The Street Singer, page 18
“Sounds the same to me.” Grant laid his head back and rubbed his temples.
Trisha saw his struggle. He tried to walk a fine line with his parents. She reached her hand to his and held it. “No, a peacekeeper just lets it happen, stays quiet so the boat doesn’t rock. A peacemaker will work the problem in a kind, compassionate manner. Talk to her. Tell her you’re grateful for her involvement but there are some things you want to work through on your own, you and me. Be gentle but firm.”
When he sat up, he picked Trisha’s hand up and kissed it. “How’d you get so smart?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it’s my blue-collar background.”
He caught her hand again, rubbing his thumb over the silky skin. “I know last night was hard. Let me make it up to you. Where would you like to go?”
“Right now, I just need a shower. I’ve been moving boxes. Let me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk.”
Trisha went into the shower and Grant hit the power button on the TV remote.
Ten minutes later, Trisha called out to him. “Almost ready. Five more minutes.”
“Hey, you had a missed call from that attorney you’re working with, and a text message. You want me to read it for you? It says, ‘Trisha, please call me…’”
Trisha bolted from the bedroom, her eyes wide as she grabbed the phone from his hand. “I’ve asked you to leave my phone alone.”
His hands flew up in a surrender motion. “Just trying to help. I saw the first few words and it said important. I thought you’d need the message.”
“And I’ve told you there are confidential things I can’t discuss. That’s going to be the case all of our lives. So please don’t touch my phone.” She took it and turned on her heel toward the bedroom. Was she going to have to hide her phone? How would Grant react if she started reading his text messages?
Trisha slammed her bedroom door and opened the message. Trisha, please call me as soon as you get this. Someone broke into Adda’s room and trashed it. She’s inconsolable.
Trisha rushed to get her shoes while hitting the return call. “Rusty, what happened? Is she all right?”
“Long story. Right now, I’ve got to get her out of here.”
“Bring her to the farmhouse. I’ll meet you there.”
Trisha opened the door to find Grant’s eavesdropping posture leaning toward it.
“Sorry. An emergency with the case. I’ve got to go.”
“Whoa, hold on. Who are you taking to the farmhouse?”
“I can’t talk. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”
Trisha found her purse and grabbed her keys.
Grant caught her and turned her toward him. “Honey, if someone’s in trouble, you can’t have them at the farmhouse. That’s not safe. You’ll be living there tomorrow.”
“It’s not unsafe. Trust my judgment for once.” She shook his hands off and ran out the door.
24
It was illogical to hurry. Trisha would arrive before Rusty and Adda. Yet the adrenaline surging through her body went right to the gas pedal. Someone had been in Adda’s closet and trashed it. Rusty couldn’t console her. That’s all she knew. Adda wailed in the background throughout the phone call.
At the farmhouse, Trisha paced around without purpose. She should be getting space ready for Adda, but she couldn’t focus. Could Adda walk the stairs? She’d have to. Trisha had no first-floor bathroom, a problem she hoped to remedy when she lived there. If she lived there.
The tires on the gravel driveway came sooner than expected. Trisha ran to the door, her heart sinking when she saw Grant’s car parking. She took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, stepping outside to meet him. “Grant, what are you doing here?”
“If you hadn’t sped off, I’d have offered to drive you. I need to know that you’re all right.”
He mounted the three steps up to the porch. Trisha reached her arms to him, and he embraced her. “I’m sorry I hurried out.” She had been apologizing way too much. She just needed to have this lawsuit end. It was shaking her to the core. The lawsuit and Rusty Bergstrom.
“Grant, please trust me on this. I’m not in any danger. I promise you. Just a temporary move to help a plaintiff.” She needed to appease him and get him out of here fast. He stepped back, still holding her hand. “Trish, don’t you see how unprofessional this is? Attorneys don’t bring clients to their home. If this person needs a place to stay, her attorney—not you, but the one representing her—should find something appropriate.”
Trisha refused to step near the door. Once inside, it would be harder to make him leave.
“I know you’re right, but this is an emergency. Something will be worked out soon. Please go so she’ll have some…some identity protection. I’ll walk with you.” She started down the steps, thankful when he followed.
They reached his car only to hear the gravel of an approaching vehicle. One last attempt.
“Go, Grant.” But it was too late. As soon as Rusty’s car parked, Adda rushed out. Her braids flew as she hurried to Trisha. Wrapping her in an embrace, Adda wailed once again. She clutched an envelope tight in her fist. Trisha tried to loosen the grip Adda had on her neck.
Adda moaned, repeating the same words and grasping the envelope. “My Enam Job. My Enam Job.”
“Shhh. Everything’s OK now. Let’s get you inside.” In her peripheral vision, Trisha saw Rusty approach Grant. He reached his arm out and introduced himself. With Adda still clinging to her, Trisha shimmied her stance so she could see them.
Mrs. Ramsey’s steel flints looked out of Grant’s eyes. “Is that the homeless singer?” He spit the words with disdain.
“That’s Adda Marsh, and yes, she’s a singer,” Rusty responded.
Grant smacked the side of his leg. “I told Trisha not to get involved with that woman. She never listens to me. Is that what this case is about?”
Rusty became rigid, red blotching his neck. His words contained controlled anger. “That lady needed help. Trisha isn’t a child. She listens to her heart.” He turned away from Grant and came over to pry Adda’s arms from Trisha.
“Come on inside, Adda. We’re going to take care of you.” He walked her up the three steps and into the house. Trisha walked behind them and turned toward Grant.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Trisha didn’t anticipate his heightened level of rage. He bounded the steps and grabbed her arm, turning her toward him. “You lied to me, telling me you were helping with a case.”
“I did not lie. I am helping.”
“Lie of omission. You’re the one who led this charge. And this is why you’ve been impossible to live with for the last month.” He pointed his finger in her face.
Trisha swatted his hand. “Don’t point at me, and don’t yell. They’ll hear you.”
“I don’t care what they hear. And I don’t care for that man’s attitude. She can’t stay here. You need to tell them now.”
Trisha gaped at him. “You’re telling me who can stay at my house?”
He stepped closer, apparently attempting intimidation. “I’m not kidding Trisha. This has gone too far.”
She would not be intimidated. Standing tall, she leaned forward into the narrow space left. “Someone needs to leave my house right now, and it’s not her.”
His jaw tightened and he pointed again. “You need to start acting like a Ramsey.”
Trisha stepped back. “Is that what it is? Acting?” With that, she turned on her heel and started toward the house.
Grant reached for her arm, jabbing his index finger in her face. “This isn’t over.”
Her eyes pooled with tears. “Oh, it’s so over.”
Grant stormed to his car. The tires spewed gravel as he sped away.
Trisha’s tears turned to sobs. She stepped down from the veranda hoping no one would hear. Walking around to the side of the house, Trisha leaned her back against the fence and slid to the ground. With her face buried in her hands, she wept until she cried herself out. She remembered Rusty’s words—tears were a cleansing gift from God. She’d have to take that on faith. She felt no cleansing, no healing, just emptiness. Trisha looked up. Rusty was watching her from the summer room window. She stood and went inside through the back door to where he stood.
Rusty enfolded her in his arms and stroked her back. “I wanted to come out to you, but I was afraid to leave her.” He pointed toward the living room. “She’s in there on the sofa.”
Trisha gave a tearful grin. “A man’s worst nightmare—two crying women.” She pulled back and looked at him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
He touched the puffy space below her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t deck him. I couldn’t afford the lawsuit.”
“Or the publicity.”
“Oh, I can see the headlines now.” He scrolled his hand through the empty space. “Wannabe Suitor Attacks Fiancée.”
He kissed her forehead and motioned for them to go back to Adda.
Trisha joined her on the sofa, sliding her arm across her back. Adda had calmed down but still clutched the envelope with Enam Job’s lock of hair.
“Fill in the missing details for me. Where was Adda when this happened?” Trisha spoke to Rusty so she’d get more clarity. Adda had a singular focus on the envelope she had almost lost.
“Adda stayed in and kept the door locked like I asked her to. When she needed to go across the street, she locked the door behind her. She was gone fifteen minutes. That meant someone was watching and waiting. They picked the lock and made no secret that they’d been there, spilling and scattering everything in the room. The bed was slashed, the slow cooker shattered…”
Adda buried her face on Trisha’s shoulder.
“I called the police,” Rusty continued. “They came and filed a report. Once the police finished their photos, we searched for the memory box items and found almost everything. The contract and song were missing.”
“What about the restraining order? Shouldn’t he be arrested for breaking in?”
“They never served it. They couldn’t locate him. And we have no proof that it was him.”
“It had to be him. Who else would do this?”
“Yes, but we have no proof. He’s got to go home sometime. It’ll be served when he does. He may be headed back to Nashville now. I’m sure he knows the police were there. I suspect he watched from some vantage point.”
“What about her things? Is it still in disarray?”
“The building manager came out, infuriated when he found out Adda was using the room for more than storage. Her connection with the Mendino is over. He’s giving me a few hours to get back there and clean it out.”
Trisha turned to Adda who sat up again. “You don’t need to worry, Adda. I have lots of space here.”
Rusty leaned forward. “Just for tonight. I’ll find another place.”
“No.” Trisha negated the idea. “She needs to be with someone. I’m the logical person.” She would not allow Grant to dictate who stayed in her house.
Adda’s voice broke through their discussion. “You all are talking about me like I ain’t here. I ain’t staying and putting Trisha out. I been taking care of myself for a long time.”
Trisha reached for her hand. “You aren’t putting me out, Adda. I have lots of space here.” She swept her hand around the room.
Rusty apologized. “I’m sorry. We should have included you. If you could live anyplace you want, where would it be?”
“Anyplace I want?”
“Anyplace. I’m not saying it can happen, but just if…”
“Last time I saw my Edith, I was looking at all the buildings they got. Edith’s building got nurses that take care of people ’cause they ain’t fit to look after themselves. But there’s other buildings, like one where older folks live and they have stuff folks can do, like movies and painting and singing. Somebody cooks, and you all come into a big room and eat together so’s you ain’t eating alone. Always thought that would be right nice.”
Rusty nodded. “A senior living community. You’d like that?”
Adda’s slight smile lightened the heaviness of the day. “I’m thinking I’d like that, and maybe some of them folks might even want me to sing from time to time. But I wouldn’t take no money.”
Rusty nodded. “Can’t do it yet, Adda, but we just might get Frank Gillen to pay for a place like that.”
Trisha turned toward her. “Until then, will you stay here with me? I’d be grateful for your company.”
“Let me be thinking on that for a day or two. Mr. Rusty, are you getting me my stuff?”
“I am, and I better get to it before they set it on the sidewalk. OK if I hold onto it until I’m back here in a few days?”
He stood, and Trisha rose to join him. “Of course.”
Rusty’s voice lowered to a whisper. “I was careful to make sure no one followed me. No one could have hidden once we hit these rural roads. Will you two be all right if I still head to Nashville in the morning?”
“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Will you be meeting with Gillen and his attorney tomorrow?”
“I hope so. I want to talk with some potential witnesses and hope to have something worthy of requesting a settlement. Are we in agreement that enough money to set her up in her senior living community, good health care, and a little extra will suffice?”
“Yes, she doesn’t ask for much. That would make her happy.”
Rusty reached for Trisha’s hand. “I’m so sorry for today. You sure you’re OK?”
His hand brushed over the ring.
Trisha gave him a weak smile. “I have a lot to think about.”
Rusty kissed her cheek. “I’ll be praying about that.” As he left, he turned and pointed at the door. “Lock this.”
25
Trisha walked behind Adda as they climbed the stairs to the second-floor bedroom and bath. “Lordy, I gotta climb these stairs every time I need the bathroom? I might as well be keeping myself up there.”
“Sorry, Adda. I wish I had a first-floor bathroom. I hope to have one put in, but that will be after I get a job. I can fix an extra bedroom for a little living area if you’d like. I’ll spend time upstairs with you. But it’s so beautiful here, and I know you’ll want to come down to sit outside sometimes. Maybe we can try to keep the stairs down to twice a day. Can you handle them?”
“Oh, I can handle them. Legs are strong enough. It’s just the rheumatoid in my old knees. That’s what my daddy called it.”
Trisha moved Adda into her Grandma and Pap’s room. It was the largest bedroom and close to the bathroom. Adda ran her hand over the comforter and pushed down on the pillow to test it. “This is real fine. Real fine.”
Her pap couldn’t bear to clean out Gram’s clothes, and Trisha hadn’t tackled the task yet. She pulled open the closet door and looked in a few drawers.
“I think there are things here that will fit you. They’re all clean, so just help yourself to anything you like. I’ll be right back.”
Trisha went into the bathroom and opened the old medicine cabinet. At least eight unopened toothbrushes filled the first shelf. Freebies from the dentist. Trisha gathered toiletries, a towel, and a washcloth and took them to Adda.
Adda fingered the clothes in the closet. She wouldn’t find anything fancy. Her grandmother was a simple woman.
“These all for one person?” Adda looked amazed. “Growing up, we shared a few shirts and britches among us young’uns. Then, when the record people took care of me, they brung me stuff to wear when I was singing, but they weren’t for keeping. I ain’t never had this many clothes all my own.”
“Anything you like is yours. Just take it. Rusty will bring your box of clothes in a few days.” Trisha pulled open a dresser drawer. “Here are some nightgowns. They’ll be more comfortable for sleeping.”
A shadow passed Adda’s face. “I had me some fancy ones when Ernie courted me. Most times I just sleep in these old clothes.”
“Tonight, you get comfortable and rest. I’ll show you around tomorrow. You’re going to like the view of the mountains.”
Adda had a pained expression. “I’m right sorry about your man. He don’t like me being here. I ain’t wanting to cause no trouble between you.”
Trisha let a sad smile cross her face. “You aren’t the problem, Adda. Please don’t worry about it.”
Adda’s eyes locked with Trisha’s. “That Rusty sure gonna make someone a good husband. Some girl’s gonna be powerful lucky to get him.”
Trisha suppressed a laugh. “You’re right. He’s a wonderful man. Good night, Adda.”
~*~
Trisha rose early to watch the sunrise. The air was cool, but she loved sitting on her veranda. She held her Zephaniah mug filled with ginger tea. The words faced toward her. He will quiet you with His love. He will exult over you with singing.
Trisha sat drinking in the beauty of the morning with a peace in stark contrast to yesterday. No matter what happened with Grant, God exulted over her with singing, a concept too amazing to comprehend. She had decisions to make, hard decisions. Grant. Rusty. Her whole future. Yet God quieted her with His love. This morning, that was enough.
When the sun rose and bird song was at its peak, Trisha went up to check on Adda and heard the snoring. She eased the door closed and tiptoed back downstairs. Jimmy arrived around nine.
“Morning, Trish. I gotta remember to start knocking now that you’re living here. I have all the pieces cut for the wine rack. OK if I put it in this morning?”
“Yes. I can’t wait to see it. The kitchen looks so bright and cheery. All those years with curtains blocking the light and those old, dingy cabinets.”
“I have this sanded and painted. Won’t take me any time to install.”
“I should tell you, I have a house guest. A friend is staying here for a few days. She’s upstairs sleeping.”
“You want me to wait so I don’t wake her?”
“No. She’s sleeping like a winter bear. You do what you have to do. One question—if you were going to put in a first-floor powder room, where would be the best place?”
