Palmetto Moon (20 page)

It’s been a week since Frank has seen Vada. He’s called on her twice, and while he’s not grateful Miss Mamie’s sister is on death’s door, it was a lot easier hearing from Claire that Vada isn’t accepting callers than it would have been from the old battle-ax.

But not seeing Vada has him parched for her and worried sick that he’s already lost her because this doesn’t feel like taking it slow. He and Vada have come to a screeching halt and are racing backward. But Frank is counting on his third visit being the charm.

It’s still ninety-two paces to her front door; he prays that’s the only thing that hasn’t changed. He stands on the stoop, afraid to knock. The boys are playing chase in the front yard. The littlest one pretends he’s a big boy, too, but he falls down more than he keeps up with the others. The oldest is good with him. He picks him up and reminds him if he wants to play, he can’t cry. The bachelors are talking among themselves, looking at Frank, standing here like a coward. Mr. Clip says something to them, and they all look at him with their sly, know-it-all smiles.

“Are you here for Vada?” The bigger kid eyes Frank suspiciously and spits on the ground. “Again?”

“What’s your name, boy?”

He straightens as tall as his small frame will go and cranes his face up at Frank’s, reminding him that the boy’s daddy was a short, wiry man. “Daniel.”

Frank almost laughs at what’s meant to be an intimidating glare, but he gets it. “Oh.” He nods. “You like her, too.”

Daniel’s face turns as red as a beetroot and the defiance has gushed out of him. He’s as limp and lifeless as Frank is without her, but the kid doesn’t know how good he’s got it, living under the same roof with Vada, seeing her every morning and before he goes to bed at night. Frank sits down on the stoop and nods for Daniel to do the same. “I’ve got it bad for her, too. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

He looks horrified. “You won’t tell her. Please don’t.”

“Oh.” Frank laughs, not mockingly, just man-to-man. “She knows. Women know everything.”

“They do?”

The middle boy runs from around the corner of the house proudly, with the youngest in Miss Mamie’s wheelbarrow, holding on for all he’s worth and laughing so hard, he can barely breathe. Daniel knows as well as Frank does that the old bat would skin these children alive if she caught them.

“Look, Daniel! It’s fun. Jonathan is too little to push me. I want a turn. Come play so I can have a ride.”

The boy shakes his head and moves a little closer, to say what’s on his mind. “Do you think she likes me?”

“Now that’s where the problem begins for the both of us. There’s not a man alive who can really know what a woman’s thinking, and certainly not Vada.” The muscles around his mouth twitch like that simple truth is enough to make him cry. “But my guess is, and it’s only a guess, mind you, she likes you a lot.”

Daniel’s face drops into his hands, which are big for a short kid like him, more like a man’s hands. Being the oldest, he’ll be expected to be a man a lot sooner than a boy ought to be. “But I
love
her.”

“I know you do, and there’s no point in telling you to love somebody your own age or to love somebody else. When Vada Hadley gets under your skin, it’s forever.” The poor kid looks like he’s going to throw up. “When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“When I buy the Sheridan place.” He’s got some spunk again, a little defiance meant to ward Frank off.

“You have that kind of money?”

“No, but I went over there with my mother. It’s fancy and beautiful, just like her. Except it’s a big mansion. When I grow up, I’m going to buy it for her.”

Frank’s hands go up in surrender. “No way I can compete with that, Daniel. But a girl like Vada may not be around that long; I’d bet a three-legged cat that she’ll be married by then.”

He nods, his face grim. “And you have a three-legged cat.”

“No, son.” Frank tousles his hair, and the boy automatically smooths it back into place. “I don’t, and I can’t give her a mansion, either. But since you appear to have the upper hand here, I’m going to ask you, man-to-man, to let her go.” Daniel looks at Frank like he’s just shot Ben Ferguson’s dog and fed him to the black snake. “It’ll hurt like hell. Trust me, I know, but I promise I’ll take good care of her. Make her happy.”

“She’s been so sad lately,” Daniel says to himself, and then cocks his head to the side. “You can do that? Make her happy?”

“I’ll do my damnedest or die trying.”

He doesn’t say a word, just leaves Frank sitting on the porch by himself. There’s an extra crate turned up where the bachelors have sat for as long as he can remember. At the rate Frank’s going, it will probably be his one day.

A door slams inside, and footsteps rush down the staircase, bringing Frank to his feet. “Hurry, Vada,” Daniel says.

She doesn’t even see Frank standing right in front of her as she bursts through the screen door. She stops on the stoop, breathless, and scans the yard. “Jonathan? Peter?” The middle boy comes running around the corner again with the wheelbarrow. He and his little brother are red-faced, giggling. “Boys, are you all right?” They look at her like she’s crazy for asking such a thing, and then she sees Frank.

Just as Daniel is slipping away, she nabs him by the arm. “You said the boys were hurt. Bleeding.” With that tone, she’ll make a really good teacher.

Daniel stands up extra straight and tall, shakes loose, and walks away.

“Really. Frank.” Still with the teacher voice.

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea, but I’m glad he did it. I’ve missed you so damn bad, I can hardly stand it.” There’s a moment in the movies when the star looks into the camera for a close-up and you suck in your breath because she’s so beautiful. That’s what every moment is like looking at Vada Hadley. No wonder the boy has it so bad. “You said you wanted to go slow, but it feels like you want to stop. Is that what you want?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve been busy, preoccupied with a personal matter, and with Miss Mamie gone, I’ve been helping out around the house. Claire has a job now.”

“Really?” Frank hopes he looks like he believes every word she says, but he doesn’t. She’s been avoiding him all right. “That’s great.”

“She’s readying the Sheridan house for the owner’s return. I’ve been watching the boys, and both of us have been sharing the cooking and the wash.”

“Reggie Sheridan’s coming back to Round O? And you’re cooking?”

“Horribly, and Claire’s not much better. If she wasn’t their mother, and if Daniel and Peter weren’t head over heels in love with me, all three of them would mutiny. Especially on the nights I cook. And then there’s—” She bites the thought in half, refusing to share the other half with Frank.

“The personal matter.” He finishes her sentence, but she won’t look at him. Her arms are wrapped around herself like she’s bitterly cold; her eyes are slightly puffy. She’s either tired or, more likely, she’s been crying. “I check the mail every day myself to see if there’s anything from the Wentworth woman.” He hopes she knows what a huge peace offering this is for him to say the woman’s name without spitting on the ground. “I know you’re waiting to hear from her about Darby.”

Darby’s name startles her, like Vada’s almost forgotten about her. “Thank you.” The words are barely out, and she bursts into a chest-heaving sob. In one swift motion, Frank scoops her up and hurries to the porch swing. His aim is bad, and he ends up on the left side, making the thing sit lopsided and the chains groan, but he doesn’t care. He holds her against him with a want he’s never known before, a primal feeling that screams at him to protect her at all costs from whatever it is that is crushing her. But what if it’s him?

“
Shhh
.” He kisses her face. “Talk to me, Vada. Tell me what’s wrong, we’ll work it out. Together.” She shakes her head. Her fingers fist his shirt. Frank tells himself she’s clinging to him, but he knows she’s just hurting. So he sits, intent on holding her until she’s all cried out.

The bachelors are looking disgustedly at Frank, spitting on the ground more than usual, craning their withered necks his way like they think he made her cry. Daniel is frozen in front of Vada, along with the middle kid, the baby brother in the wheelbarrow, even the cicadas. The whole world has stopped because it can’t bear knowing Vada Hadley’s heart is broken.

“She’s all right, boys,” Frank says. “I’ve got her.”

“Frank?” It took longer than he thought, but she’s calmed. Her body quakes a little with each sniffle.

He kisses her on the head and holds her a little tighter. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears still pool in her eyes, making the irises look like glistening blue jewels. “It’s my night to cook dinner.” Her voice trails like that’s enough to set her off again. “I’ve got to go.”

She pulls herself away from Frank to sit beside him in the swing, her legs tucked off to the side, an unspoken reminder about the going-slow business. He can do slow. He can do anything as long as Vada is the prize, but he can’t help but push a little, just enough to make sure they’re still moving toward forever. “What are you making for dinner?”

“Claire left some liver mush out to thaw.”

“Not again,” the middle child whines and shoves his hands disgustedly into the pockets of his dungarees. “Come on, Daniel, let’s play while we can.”

“I’ve got some chicken in the cooler,” Frank says. “Denny Fox brought in some fresh vegetables this morning. I’ll take Daniel with me to the diner; we’ll be right back.” The boys are cheering, but as much as Vada loves Frank’s fried chicken, she looks a little leery. “If that’s okay with you. If it’s not, I understand. Completely.”

“All right.” To lay down her cross as easily as that, the poor woman must be starving. “But I want you to teach me. How to cook. So I can do it myself.”

Frank smiles immediately, a good mask to hide the questions he has as to exactly what that means. Does it mean doing it without him? For good?

Daniel falls in beside Frank as they start over to the diner. He’s as happy as Frank is to see that Vada’s not crying anymore, but both of them are smart enough to know that doesn’t mean she’s not hurting still. He jogs alongside to keep up with Frank’s long legs that want to break into a run. But he’s going slow. Slow.
Sloooow
. Whatever Vada wants. Just the way she wants it.

Daniel’s a good kid, as eager to please Vada as he is. Frank loads up paper sacks full of things he’ll need and takes a dozen pieces of chicken out of the buttermilk they’ve been swimming in since early this morning. The boy asks a lot of questions and says “yes, sir” or “no, sir” every time Frank answers. As automatic as that is for a boy his age, hell, even a man Frank’s age, it makes him feel old, and he refuses to take his place under that mimosa tree with the bachelors anytime soon. Hopefully, never.

He’s looking for the coffee can he has his secret spice mix in when he notices the boy standing by the counter in front of the cake plates, looking longingly at the red velvet. “Can we have dessert, too?” Miss Mamie might be a mean old bitch, but she does make desserts almost as good as Frank’s.

He sets three other domed plates alongside the red velvet. The boy is practically drooling. Hummingbird cake, the Coca-Cola cake Vada loves, and a whole pecan pie. “You pick,” Frank says. Daniel runs his fingers across the glass tops long enough for Frank to see his nails are bitten down to the quick. “Or, I got some peaches in just this morning. We could make a cobbler, churn some vanilla ice cream.” The boy claps his hands, and that settles it. “Get those two aluminum pails by the sink in the kitchen and fill them both up as much as you can with ice.”

The boy approaches the humming ice machine warily. Frank opens the lid to show him there’s nothing to fear. “It does that all by itself? Makes ice?”

“Yep. No trays to fill. Pretty neat, huh?”

He fills the buckets with the giant scoop. “I’d rather have a TV,” he says, trying not to sound impressed.

“Well, that would be something. Nobody around these parts has a TV, that I know of.”

“There’s one at the mansion. I saw it. Sort of. It’s still in the box.” The door of the ice machine bangs shut.