A Life of Bright Ideas (27 page)

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “We burned the evidence.”

Winnalee sighed, and after a bit, said, “Shit. That was a good place to work, too.”

An officer came to the house mid-morning to question Winnalee. Boohoo was in his sandbox when they pulled in, so of course he had to run straight over—which, I suppose, was better than running inside to tattle.

While the officer drilled Winnalee about the Boumans—had she ever seen them exchange drugs for money? Had she ever had a customer hand her money to pass to the owner or his son, saying he “owed” it to them?—I held her hand and squeezed it now and then. Not because she was afraid, but because she was being mouthy. “Look, you
know
they were selling dope there because you found it, right? So why you asking me?”

“That your vehicle?” The officer asked, jerking his chin
toward her hippie mobile. Winnalee nodded. “You mind if we take a peek inside?”

Winnalee looked annoyed. “Don’t you need a search warrant or something to do that?”

“We’re asking nicely, not forcing entry into your van,” the officer said, as he glanced at Boohoo, who was circling the squad car.

“Then no, you can’t.”

“Does this car make sirens like on TV?” Boohoo asked. The policeman nodded, then turned his attention back to Winnalee. I turned mine to Aunt Verdella’s house, hoping the officer would leave before she or Freeda happened to glance outside.

He asked a couple more questions, then gave Winnalee a card, telling her to call him if she remembered anything else.

“I might be a cop when I grow up,” Boohoo said as he tailed the officer to his car. “Else Spider-Man.”

The officer patted Boohoo’s head, then slid behind the wheel. Boohoo hung at the window and pointed from one gadget to another to ask what they did. “I’m sure the officer has work to do, Boohoo,” I said, as I pulled him back.

“
Officer?
Is that another name for
cop
? Like
pig
?”

I couldn’t tell if the cop was amused or insulted by Boohoo’s question, but Winnalee sure thought it was funny. She cracked up as she headed back to the house, while my whole body cooked with embarrassment.

“Hey, officer, can you make the sirens go when you leave, like a real cop car? I like that sound.”

“Boo …”

But it was too late. The cop was pulling out, his siren screeching
and
his lights flashing. Boohoo raced to the road to watch him leave, his skinny arm waving.

Out in the country, any time you heard a police siren it meant there was an accident or a fire, and you usually knew
who the victims were by the direction of the noise. In a flash, Aunt Verdella’s door opened and she flew out, holding her chest.

“Look at Aunt Verdella,” Boohoo called to me. “She’s hopping high as a kangaroo!” Freeda came out on the steps, her face full of questions.

I hurried to meet Aunt Verdella. “It was nothing. Nothing,” I told her. “There was a drug bust at the Purple Haze last night, that’s all, and he wanted to talk to Winnalee. He put on his siren for Boohoo.”

“Oh dear, I knew we should have put her in the hospital!” Aunt Verdella said.

“Winnalee didn’t do anything wrong,” I told her. “The creeps running the place did. They arrested the Boumans, but are questioning everybody who worked there to see what they know. That’s all.”

I walked Aunt Verdella back to her yard, knowing if I didn’t, Freeda would be over—and probably yelling—within seconds.

I explained everything all over again when we got to Freeda. I expected her to rant and rave, but she didn’t. She only marched back into the house and got on the phone. She tapped her foot as she waited, then said, “Darla, put Terri on.” And when she had her on the line, she said, “Terri, you’re going to have to hold down the fort a bit longer, because I’m stuck on another battlefield.”

I ditched out the door, and later, when Boohoo came back, I asked him what else Freeda had said on the phone. His answer was “Nothin’ much. Just that if all this keeps up, they’re gonna be hauling her to the
lunasylm
.”

Two days later, on Dad’s day off, he brought his toolbox over to my place to look at Winnalee’s van. We were outside at the
time and I checked the mailbox while Winnalee gave Dad her van’s symptoms.

I was closing the mailbox—nothing from Jesse yesterday—when Freeda opened the front door, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun so she could see across the road. She came down the steps. “My cue to split,” Winnalee said. “Yell if you need anything, Uncle Reece.”

I waved to Freeda, who paused, then spun around and went back into the house. I followed Winnalee inside.

“She’s putting the moves on your old man,” Winnalee said as she flopped onto the couch.

“You’re crazy,” I said.

“No I’m not. She probably went back inside to put on some lipstick and perfume, then she’ll be heading over here so she can get Uncle Reece all hot and bothered. You just watch. She’ll be trying to get him to smile five seconds after she gets in the yard.”

I went to grab a Tab and came back. “See what I mean?” Winnalee said, when Freeda’s laughter filtered through the screens like a playful breeze. I sidled up to a window and peered through the lace curtain. Freeda wasn’t
trying
to make Dad laugh. She
was
making him laugh. She was also holding Eva lee.

Winnalee had her bare feet propped on the coffee table, her arms crossed. “Told ya,” she said.

I didn’t mean for Freeda to see me, but apparently she did, because she waved for me to come out.

“Take this kid inside before the sun cooks her, will you? Introduce her to her mommy while you’re at it.” I knew Winnalee wouldn’t understand that I didn’t have any choice.

Evalee’s head mashed against my chest as she tried to hide from the bright sun. I didn’t know about taking her inside without asking Winnalee first, but Evalee’s head felt too warm
already, and it’s not like I wanted to stay standing outside with Dad there.

I patted Evalee’s back and carried her up the steps.

“We, uh … have company,” I said.

Winnalee, no doubt thinking I meant Freeda, shot up from the couch like she was going to raise a sword, if she had one. But when she saw I was holding Evalee, she stopped and just stood there, staring, her eyes pained even as a faint smile tugged at her mouth. She walked to us slowly, her eyes tearing. “Ohhhhhhh,” she said. She took Evalee’s hand.

“Do you want to hold her?” I asked, carefully.

Winnalee’s eyes went round with fear, and her hands came up to crisscross each other. “I don’t know how to hold a baby. She was eight days old when I split, and I didn’t even know how to hold her then. I don’t think Freeda really did, either.”

“I’ll show you. Sit down. Now put your feet back on the coffee table, and your knees together.” I set Evalee down on her lap. “See? Your legs make a little La-Z-Boy for her.”

“But she’s gonna fall,” Winnalee said.

“No she won’t. Just keep your legs together.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly good at that.” Winnalee didn’t laugh at her joke, but I did. A little.

Winnalee kept her legs stiff, but the rest of her softened. “Awww, she
is
pretty,” she said. “Real pretty. I’m glad, because that’s one of the things I worried about when I was pregnant. You know, because maybe her dad’s sperm was all junked up from drugs. I was afraid she’d be born with feet where her hands should be, or have a head as tiny as a pea, and her eyes cocked funny … something awful like that. Not that I wouldn’t have loved her anyway, but man, Button, it’s hard enough gettin’ picked on at school because you’re different in a
good
way.”

Winnalee looked down at Evalee, who was kicking gently
against her stomach, while her mouth struggled to find her fist. “Now what do I do?”

I sat down beside them. “Talk to her. Sing to her. Something like that.”

Winnalee started belting out a verse of Joplin’s “Piece of My Heart” like it was a lullaby. “Look, she likes that song, too! Awww, she smiled at me.”

I chuckled. “She doesn’t even startle when you or Freeda raise your voices,” I noted.

Winnalee turned to me. “Is she supposed to?”

“I don’t know. But a lot of babies do that when people get loud. Boohoo did when he was around Aunt Verdella, until he got used to her.”

Winnalee looked back at Evalee intently. “I don’t want her getting used to people screaming and fighting.”

“But you weren’t doing …”

“Take her, Button.”

“Take her?”

“Just take her, damn it,” Winnalee ordered. I lifted Evalee from her lap.

Winnalee headed for the door, then stopped, probably because she remembered that Freeda was out there and that her van was broken. She turned and ran up the stairs.

One thing I liked about sewing was that it made sense. You had a pattern—even if someone else cut it out for you—and you followed it. You sewed seams together, keeping your eyes close to where you were stitching, and there was no worrying, no guesswork about how it would turn out.

For the next few days, Winnalee was quiet. A couple of times, she said she was going out for a while, and didn’t say where she was headed. Maybe looking for work. Or maybe sitting down at Dauber Falls, thinking. I missed her. Even when she was right beside me at night, I missed her. But mostly, I worried.
Before Freeda came, Aunt Verdella was over at my place almost more than she was home. But not so much anymore. So she startled me when she suddenly appeared in my sewing room, so early that the dew was still on the grass. I hurried to shut my stereo off, but Aunt Verdella stopped me. “I like this song,” she said, doing a little dance to the last chorus of “I Want You Back.” She ha-ha’d when the song was over, then leaned and peered into the hallway. “Uh-oh, I probably woke Winnalee.”

“No, she’s not here.”

Aunt Verdella cocked her head. “I didn’t think she got up this early.”

“She normally doesn’t. She usually sleeps until nine or ten.”

“Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. I was sleeping when she left. I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” I said, hoping I was right.

“Okay,” she said, giving me a hug and cooing over the hardly made dress. “Your ma would be so proud of you, making your first wedding gown.” I smiled, knowing this was true.

I moved some folded fabric off the only spare chair I had in the room and Aunt Verdella sat down. “Freeda’s giving Cupcake her bath, and Boohoo and Rudy are out in the garden, so I thought I’d come see my favorite girl.”

“Cupcake.” I repeated the nickname that was starting to stick, and giggled.

Aunt Verdella tapped the bolt of fabric. “Oh, this is pretty.

What’s it for?”

“One of Cindy Jamison’s bridesmaids’ dresses. It isn’t exactly what she wanted, but when I told her it was Winnalee’s idea to do the dresses in the same fabric, only different colors, she decided it was cool.”

Aunt Verdella smiled, then she tapped my arm excitedly. “You aren’t gonna believe it, but I weighed myself this morning, and I lost four pounds since Freeda got here. In just one week!”

“Way to go, Aunt Verdella!”

“Freeda’s helping me. She makes me eat my meals on a dessert plate—whatever I want, but not sweets—as long as I eat it on that plate. And if I try snitchin’ anything from the pan or Boohoo’s dish, she slaps my fingers like I’m a baby puttin’ a fork in a light socket. Good thing, too, because I don’t even notice I’m doin’ it until she taps me.”

I didn’t know if people were supposed to notice a four-pound weight loss, but I pretended I did. “Your uncle Rudy couldn’t tell. But that’s a man for you. Freeda’s going to color my hair tonight, too. She said it’s two-toned. I didn’t think it looked two-toned, did you?”

“I don’t know …,” I said.

“Well, Fanny and Freeda sure did.”

Aunt Verdella picked up a spool of thread and snagged the loose end back onto the groove along the rim. “She’s sure got your dad coming out of his shell.”

“Who? Fanny Tilman?” I joked.

Aunt Verdella laughed. “Oh, Button, you know who I meant. We drove over there last night to bring him some supper, and I couldn’t believe how she got him laughin’. She decided his house better get fixed up before it crumbles, and like it or not, she’s going to see that it does. I’m gonna watch Cupcake and she’s going over there tonight after she does my hair and he heads to work, and she’s gonna start ripping up that water-ruined linoleum in the kitchen.” Aunt Verdella’s laugh had the jitters. “He’s probably gonna have a conniption fit, but Freeda said she’ll deal with him.”

“I wish she’d find a way to deal with Winnalee,” I said.

The corners of Aunt Verdella’s eyes drooped, and I was sorry I’d let those words pop out. “Oh, Button, she’s trying, but those two … sometimes I think Freeda and Winnalee are just too much alike for their own good. Both are headstrong and set in their ways. But they love each other.”

I nodded.

“Button, do you talk to Winnalee about Freeda?”

“I can’t, Aunt Verdella. She just gets mad.” I didn’t mention that the last time I tried to, Winnalee cut me off, saying, “I’ll cozy up to Freeda about the time you cozy up to your dad.” Winnalee didn’t realize that my situation was different: Freeda actually
loved
her. But she shut me up on that one, all the same.

Aunt Verdella shrugged. “I guess it’s just harder to fix things with your blood relatives than it is to fix things with the family you choose.”

Aunt Verdella stood up and peered out the window, pulling back the curtain. “What on earth is that boy doing now?” she said. “He was in the garden with Rudy when I left.”