The Grave Tender, page 7
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said.
“Go out to dinner with me,” he said, without preamble.
When she hesitated he plowed ahead. “Not on a date. It’s too soon for that, I know. Just… Just two old friends catching up.”
“Sam, I…”
She had no idea what to say.
“I could pick you up at seven. Or we could meet there, if that feels too date-y.”
She considered him. Then she considered his tie.
“Two friends catching up?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay,” she said finally, and watched as he tried unsuccessfully to conceal his smile.
“I’ll meet you there,” she said, firmly, and he nodded.
“Deal. The Voodoo Queen, tonight at seven.”
They heard the first bell ring.
“I gotta go,” he said. “See you tonight,” and jogged off the way he’d come.
…
The Voodoo Queen was on the square in Whitewood. It had been there since she was young, but Hadley remembered it as a dimly lit, seedy sort of dive.
But that’s not what she found when she opened the door, the bell dinging above her head.
The place was bright, clean and surprisingly busy for a weeknight.
There was zydeco music playing over the speakers and a football game on two screens, one at either end of the bar. The waitresses were casual in jeans, black half aprons, and t-shirts in different colors, all sporting the Voodoo Queen logo on the back.
There was beer on tap, laughter and smiles from the patrons, and most importantly, a spicy aroma of Cajun food that drew her in.
She spotted Sam at a table next to the big window that looked out on the street. He waved and she made her way over, passing a waitress with a tray full of jambalaya that had her mouth watering.
“Wow,” she said, slipping into the booth across from Sam. “This place has changed for the better.”
“This is Jude’s place now,” he said.
“Really?” she said, looking around again with fresh eyes. “Of course it is,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t know.”
She shook her head. “Jude and I… drifted apart after. After Mama died.”
There, she’d said it. It never got easier to say, even after all these years.
He nodded, but she saw a hint of something there, behind it.
“She tried, you know. We both did.”
The weeks and months following Winnie’s death were still hazy in her mind. Probably always would be.
“I… I was never the same after that. I didn’t know what to say to people. So I stayed away.”
He was looking at her. Waiting to see if she would, or could, say more.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I suppose it was.”
“Let’s talk about you.” And not me, she thought.
“Not much to say, really.”
“Not married?”
He shook his head. “Not me. Came close once. A girl from college.”
“So what happened?”
“We wanted different things. I’m a small town guy, and she was from Dallas. I took the position teaching here after graduation. She visited once. Had a hard time hiding her horror. We split not long after that. Her idea.”
“Sam Brooks, don’t tell me you actually have a date. I might just faint dead away.”
The voice came from behind Hadley, but it was unmistakable.
Sam looked up over her head. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled and his straight white teeth looked like a toothpaste commercial.
“Since you keep turning me down, I had to resort to drastic measures.”
“I never once turned you down. I just said I had to bring my husband… along.”
Jude’s voice trailed off when she drew up to the table and saw who Sam’s “date” was.
“Hadley,” she said. “As I live and breathe.”
“Hey, Jude.”
“I heard a rumor, but I didn’t put much stock in it. Figured you were never coming back here.”
Hadley smiled. It was awkward, but under that, she was just happy to see the girl who’d once been her friend.
“I’ve moved back home. Me and my daughter.”
“Daughter?” Jude said. “You have a child.”
It didn’t sound like a question.
“Kate. She’s eleven.”
Jude’s eyes clouded a bit.
“What about you? Any kids?”
“No, no, not me,” Jude said. “Just my husband Mateo and I. The Voodoo Queen’s our baby.”
“This place is amazing, Jude.”
“Thank you,” she said, looking around like she was seeing it for the first time. Or seeing what it used to be. She smiled, a real smile then, one that reached all the way to her eyes.
“It is, isn’t it? I’m such a badass.”
“No argument there,” Sam said.
“Why don’t you join us?” Hadley asked.
“Oh, I don’t want to cramp Sam’s style. First date he’s had in four damn years.”
“It’s not really a date,” Hadley said. “Just old friends catching up. Wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Jude hesitated, then untied her apron, calling over her shoulder.
“Can I get a round of beers over here, when you get a sec, Bill?”
“Sure thing, boss lady,” the bartender said.
“Scoot that skinny white butt over, Hadley. I swear, girl, you are still the palest person I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Hadley smiled. “We’re not all lucky enough to be blessed with your beauty and charm.”
“Damn right.”
A drink and a big, spicy meal with two people she could honestly say she was glad to have walk back into her life turned out to be just what Hadley needed. And she hadn’t known she’d needed anything at all.
She barely touched the beer, switching to iced tea, but it hardly mattered. Before she realized it was happening, several hours had passed, and the staff was shutting the place down around them.
“We’d better get out of your hair,” Hadley said.
They rose to go, but Jude stopped them.
“You know, if you’re really looking for part-time work, I could use a hand this weekend. I have a catering job for an anniversary party and one of my regular girls broke her ankle yesterday. Leaves me in a jam. The pay is crap, but you’d be doing me a favor.”
“I should warn you, I’m a terrible waitress. I tried it in college and managed to spill enough drinks that I actually owed the restaurant money by the time they fired me.”
Jude waved her off.
“It’s buffet style. We’ll set up and take down, and keep it full in between, but I swear on my daddy’s grave not to hand you a tray of drinks.”
Hadley thought it over.
“Okay, yeah. If you’re sure, I’d love to.”
“Honey, I’m always sure. And why don’t you bring Kate along. I’d love to meet her.”
Jude smiled, and gave her old friend a fierce hug. But for the first time since the meal began, that cloud was back in Jude’s eyes.
19
“How was your date last night?” Kate asked, with just a touch of snottiness.
“I told you, it wasn’t a date,” Hadley said. “It was a group of old friends catching up.”
Her daughter arched a brow at her from the other side of the bed they were covering with old sheets.
“If it wasn’t a date, why did you mess with your hair for an hour?”
“I did not!”
“You did.”
“For your information, it was practically a job interview, Miss Smarty Pants.”
“A job doing what?” There was that snottiness again.
“Helping to cater a party.”
“Are you cooking?”
“No, although you don’t have to sound so shocked. I can cook, you know.”
“Yeah, but you don’t.”
“Hey, what’s with you today?” Hadley asked as she opened a gallon of paint.
They were starting in Winnie’s old room first, with a sea foam green that Hadley hoped would be calming. She’d also taken out a lot of the furniture while Kate was in school, planning to trade it out for other pieces she’d found in the attic. The room was nearly empty now.
Except for that damn bed. It was too big to move.
Kate sat down on the bed and picked at a fingernail.
“What’s wrong, Kate?” Hadley asked. Abandoning the paint cans, she sat next to her daughter.
“Do you miss your old school? Are you sorry we moved here?”
“Yeah, a little, but no, I mean, I like it here. School’s fine.”
“Then what is it? If you tell me, I can try to help.”
Kate looked sideways at her, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead.
“Are you going to get married again?”
“Oh, honey… Is that what you’re worried about?”
“Jenny at school, her mom’s been married four times, and it sounds awful. I don’t want a stepdad.”
“Oh, Kate, no. I’m not getting married again.”
“Not ever?”
“I can’t say never, no, but I’ll make you a deal. I will never get married unless you say it’s okay.”
Kate met her eyes head on.
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“But what if you fall in love with a guy who doesn’t like me?”
“Katy-did, I could never, and I mean ever, love a man who didn’t love you too. We’re a package deal, ma’am. A team.”
“Really? Pinky swear?”
“Pinky swear.”
“Okay,” Kate said. “But it was an hour.”
“It was a half hour, max, you turkey.”
…
They made good time. Kate loved to paint as much as her mother did, and they worked well together. In a matter of hours, the room felt fresh, cleansed of any obvious reminders of Winnie.
Maybe her dreams would be less troubled.
She caught her daughter in a hug. “Thanks for your help, babe. Why don’t you go wash up and see if Gran needs a hand with dinner.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Hadley cleared the paint away and cleaned up the mess. She had about a quarter gallon of paint left that she wanted to tuck away in case she needed to do any touch-ups later, so she dragged the stepladder to the closet and placed the can on the top shelf.
When she tried to push it back farther, though, it wouldn’t budge. There was something on the shelf behind it.
Moving the can to the side, she balanced precariously on her toes, reaching up to feel around in the dark, dusty corner.
It was a box.
Barely able to reach, she snagged the lid with one finger tip. Slowly, she slid it forward.
An old shoe box. Tucked away and out of sight in the room of a woman long dead. A woman who’d been an enigma to Hadley in life, and a wound that had never healed, in death.
She tried to shake off the sudden sense that this box might hold some clue to her mother’s life and tragic end.
That was ridiculous.
It was probably an old pair of shoes.
But as she balanced atop the ladder, the box heavy in her hands, the feeling didn’t go away.
She blew the dust from the top of the box.
“Hadley, dinner’s ready,” Gran called.
She started, like she’d been caught rifling through things that didn’t belong to her.
Sliding the box back onto the shelf, she climbed down the ladder and went to wash her hands and face, determined to put the box out of her mind.
Probably old tax bills, anyway, she thought.
20
It was late that night, after dinner. Kate was tucked into bed. The rest of the family had retired.
Hadley had showered, working out some of the kinks from a day spent moving furniture and climbing around in the attic.
She tried to lie down and read for a while. Night sounds drifted in from the window she’d left open, hoping to dispel the last of the fresh paint smell.
The window drew her out of bed. From here, on the second floor, she had a different perspective than the one she’d had as a child.
It felt elevated above the everyday realities of life. A little closer to the tops of the pines. A little closer to the stars that winked back at her.
The box sat waiting in the closet.
She hadn’t mentioned it to her family.
She went to retrieve it.
This is stupid. Tax bills, she thought again. Just open it, you’ll see it’s nothing. Then you can sleep.
But when Hadley lifted one edge of the lid, she let out a long, slow breath.
There were a few papers at the bottom of the box, and a yellowed newspaper clipping folded some time long ago.
But what stole her breath was the small bound book sitting on top, and the word embossed on the red cover in gold letters.
Diary.
Hadley shut the lid. She glanced around the room, but in spite of the coat of paint in a brand new hue and the change of furnishings, she could still see it through the eyes of the child she’d been, once upon a time.
She could hear the country music moan, and feel the auburn silk of her mother’s hair as she let down her curlers for her.
She could taste the lemon drops Winnie kept on the vanity, and see the face in the mirror smiling up at her, with that faraway look in her eyes.
Not here, Hadley thought. I can’t do this here, surrounded by my mother’s ghosts.
No, she corrected. My mother’s ghosts are in this box. These ghosts are all my own.
She shut the door quietly behind her and made her way silently down the stairs, avoiding the creaky third step.
She turned on the porch light and sat on the old swing that had always hung there from the beam.
The box was in her lap. For a moment, she took a deep calming breath, bathing in the night around her.
Then she opened the box. She pulled the diary from its resting place, running her fingers over the single word on the cover. The spine of the small volume creaked as she opened it to the first page, and the swirly, girlish writing there.
Dear Diary,
I did it! I really did it! I finally saved enough money to get the ticket. It took soooo long! Tips at the Blue Diamond aren’t great, and I had to hide them from Papa when I could get away with it, but when I took out the envelope I hid in my locker at work and counted it up last week I had $48. It was enough!
Today, I told Mama I was picking up an extra shift, and I walked to the bus stop (It was 8 blocks!) and I bought my ticket.
I can’t stop looking at it. Nashville, Tennessee!
Papa’s going to be angry. But I’m not going to let that stop me. Not this time.
I hope Mama will understand, at least. The boys, though. I’m worried about leaving them. Especially Johnny. But I’ll send for them as soon as I can. Once I’m settled in.
I can hardly believe it. I’m going to Nashville! I’m going to sing in Nashville, Tennessee, in front of anyone who will listen.
I’m going to tell them tonight.
Wish me luck!
-W
Hadley sat dumbfounded at the first entry in the diary. Her mama’s voice was so clear in her mind.
She’d heard that kind of excitement in her when she talked about imaginary shows she was getting ready for. Shows she put on in the dark of the night, the wind in the trees the only applause she’d ever get.
But this. This voice was different. It was young, eager, yes, but it was coherent in a way that the woman Hadley remembered could never have managed for long.
“What happened to you?” Hadley asked in a whisper. “What happened that broke you so badly?”
There was no answer except the cicadas in the distance.
She turned the page.
Dear Diary,
My heart is broken. How could he? How could he do that?
And Mama! She didn’t even turn from the dishes in the sink when he snatched my ticket out of my hands! Not a word!
And it’s not even the ugly things he said that hurt so bad. I’ve heard it all before. But he laughed at me!
“Sing! Damn, girl, that’s rich.”
I stood up to him this time though, even though that laughter made me want to curl up in a ball and die.
“I am, Daddy! I’ve bought the ticket, and you can’t stop me,” I said.
Why did I have the ticket in my hand? Why did I need to prove it to them? So they could see it was really real? Proof I wasn’t just making up stories and big dreams.
I should have kept it hidden. Then he wouldn’t have taken it from me. It was so easy.
He just reached across the table and plucked it out of my hand, like it was nothing.
All my work, all my dreams, and I didn’t even see it coming. I am stupid, just like he said. A stupid little bitch with big ideas, just like her mama.
But Mama, why didn’t you help me? Why didn’t you say something when he grabbed me by the hair and drug me down the hallway. When he dumped the bathroom trash onto the floor? Why didn’t you help me when he flicked his lighter open and caught my bus ticket on fire and dropped it into the metal wastebasket to burn?
Why, Mama? Why?
He said I should be thanking him. Can you believe that? Thanking him. That I’d be turning tricks in a week.
I’d rather turn tricks than go back there.
And all Mama said was, “Get that mess cleaned up, girl.”
Didn’t she ever have dreams?
Johnny tried to help me. He’s a good boy. But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
I ran to the back room and grabbed my bag. The bag that was supposed to go with me to Nashville, but now here we sit together on a park bench on the wrong side of the tracks.
I hate them. I hate them both. I hate this place.
I wish they were dead. I do. And I wish I had the courage to go back there and do it myself.
It was a terrible account. A young girl’s dreams so carelessly crushed by her own parents. Hadley’s heart ached for the pain and disillusionment so clear in Winnie’s words.
