A Wish and a Prayer (19 page)

“Depends on how you describe normal. Personally, I'll just settle for all those pig masks getting the hell out of Dodge.”

She would too. That and finding the person behind the fire in the rec parking lot.

T
wo days later, everyone in Henry Adams rode over to Franklin for the Sanderson funeral.

Although only a few people in town knew the couple personally, Bernadine felt it important that they go and pay their respects because of how and where they died. Standing beside Mal at the service, she looked around and saw everyone from Bing in his wheelchair and leg cast to the Henry Adams kids who'd been allowed out of school to attend. All were in their Sunday best, and it was her hope that the family appreciated the show of respect.

Later, after the trip to the cemetery, the mourners returned to the small Unitarian church for the traditional repast. Bernadine was pulled aside by Mike Sanderson's father.

“Ms. Brown, I want to thank you for coming.”

“It was my way of showing how terrible we all feel, Mr. Sanderson.”

“Thanks. Please call me Joel.”

The father was tall and gray-haired, with lively green eyes. Having never met his son, she had no way of knowing if the two favored each other, but she sensed they did.

“Thanks also for your generous offer to pay for the twins' last year in school. Mike and Peggy worked so hard to make sure their girls were able to attend college, but it's been a struggle the past year and a half, with Mike out of work.”

“I'm glad to help.” The deceased couple had twenty-year-old twin daughters, Megan and Marie. She'd met them earlier. “If there's anything else I can do to help to make the burden lighter, please don't hesitate to call.”

He gave her a hug, his green eyes teary. “Thank you.”

“My condolences,” she said softly.

When he backed away, he wiped at his eyes. “I see my wife waving this way. She must have somebody over there she wants me to meet. So let me get going. Again, thanks for your generosity. You be blessed, Ms. Brown.”

“You as well.”

She was about to go seek out Mal and see if he was ready to head back to town when someone touched her arm.

“Ms. Brown?”

She turned to see a young woman she'd not met before. “Yes. Hello.”

“Hi. I'm Freda Stillwell.”

Bernadine stilled and prepared herself to be blasted by Freda's anger.

“I hear you'll be helping Megan and Marie with their tuition.”

“Yes. Do you know the family well?”

“Mrs. Sanderson was my Girl Scout leader. I loved her a lot.”

“My condolences.”

“When my parents divorced, I spent a lot of time over at their house. Mrs. Sanderson helped me deal with a lot of stuff when my grandmother refused to let my mom take me with her when she and Dad split.”

Bernadine found herself moved by the admission. “I offered to help with your tuition, too.”

“I know. Gram told me, and she told me what she said. I'm sorry she was so nasty.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

“I feel like I do.”

“Are you going to have to leave school?”

“Already have. At least for this semester, but I have a full-time job off campus, and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to get some money for the fall.”

Bernadine felt infinitely better. “I'd never ask someone to go against their family, but if you want my help, just call me.”

“Thanks, but I think I'm good. In fact, I know I am.”

Bernadine found herself liking the young woman. “How's your dad?”

She shrugged. “He's gone to Oklahoma to see if he can find a job in the oil fields. I wouldn't worry about him.”

Bernadine wasn't sure how she was supposed to take that. “Okay. Please keep in touch if you'd like.”

She nodded. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Brown.”

“Same here.”

As Freda Stillwell made her way back across the crowded hall, Bernadine found herself thinking, How curious
.

Riding back to town with Mal, she told him of her encounter with Freda and asked him for the story behind the custody fight.

“It was ugly. Al was never faithful, and Ann, his wife, had had it. She filed for the divorce, but Odessa threatened to tell the courts she was unfit.”

“Was she?”

“Not that I know of, but then you don't always know the real deal sometimes. Maybe Odessa had something on her, maybe not. Anyway, Ann left, and Freda stayed.”

“That's sad.”

“Yeah, it is. The family never mixed much. You didn't see them at picnics or anything like that, but when you did, Freda always looked sad. Felt real sorry for her.”

“She said she'll have money for school in the fall.”

“Good to know.”

Bernadine thought so, too.

Chapter 21

A
s the last few weeks of April merged into the steady warmth of the month of May, things sort of quieted down in Henry Adams. Those who'd lost their vehicles in the parking lot fire scored new ones and were back on the road again. The security system was purchased and installed, but law enforcement still had no clue as to the arsonist's identity. Jack and Rocky were officially a couple, and now that his sling was gone, they were often tooling around in his new Chevy truck, christened the Silver Surfer by Eli. When they weren't tooling, they were working on the restoration of her Vincent Black Shadow over at Trent's garage. The We're So Slick Gang finished their papers and turned them in. Officially off lockdown, they were so grateful to have access to their electronics that they vowed to never put themselves in a position to be without them ever again.

The first thing Preston did on the day he was allowed to log back on was to check his e-mail. Waiting in the in-box was an unopened message from his grandmother, Lenore Crenshaw. Damn! He thought his parents and Ms. Bernadine had forbidden any further contact. Apparently the directive had gone in one ear and out the other. Knowing if he didn't open it, it would drive him crazy, he braced himself and clicked. It read simply: “Dr. Margaret Winthrop, NASA.”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?” he asked aloud.

He went downstairs and found his parents in the basement. They were dancing! The tango! He knew it was the tango because of the ballroom dancing contest he'd watched with his mom last winter on the public television station. He'd done it mainly to please her, and although he thought the whole thing dumb, and an activity only old people probably enjoyed, he'd filed it away in his brain because with Mr. James as his teacher, he never knew what the next assignment might be.

But there they were, doing all the leaning and posing and twirling around to the weird music that apparently went with the dance. His mom even had on some of the old-fashioned high-heeled shoes the ladies in the contest had worn. It was obvious they didn't know he was in the room, so he waited and watched, especially his pops. He wondered how and where he'd learned to dance. Preston was pretty sure it wasn't part of the marine boot-camp regimen. The colonel was posed up like a bullfighter and looked both strong and powerful going through the steps. His mom was snapping her head back and forth, and he liked the way she smiled up into the colonel's face, too. Her eyes sparkled with enjoyment.

The music ended, and Preston clapped and entered the room. They both looked surprised and then bowed.

“You guys are good. I never knew you liked to dance.”

His mom nodded. “We haven't done it in a while, but I've missed it.”

“So have I,” his dad said, beaming down.

Preston got the impression that they'd gotten a lot closer lately, and he liked that.

“We're rehearsing for the Idol contest,” she said.

That surprised him almost as much as seeing them dancing.

“And I think we can win. No one else is going to be doing the tango, far as I know.”

Preston was pretty sure he was right. He couldn't imagine what the audience would think when they saw them, and being a teenager, he wondered whether he'd be embarrassed by their performance, but he told himself that them doing something together they enjoyed overrode any potential personal issues he might have. “Need your help with something. Do you know who Dr. Margaret Winthrop is?”

“She's your birth mother,” his pops said, looking a bit wary. “Where'd you get the name?”

“My grandmother. There was an e-mail from her when I logged on just now. From the date, looks like she sent it right after she was kicked out of town.”

His mom sighed angrily. “Why would she do that, knowing her daughter doesn't want contact? That's so cruel.”

He thought so too, but then again, his grandmother had shown herself to be that way the day she visited. This was just another example. “Does she really work for NASA?”

“Yes. She's an astrophysicist.”

His eyes widened.

His mom searched his face with serious eyes. “Please don't contact her, Preston. She doesn't want it, and I don't want you to be hurt, thinking you can change that.”

Sadness rose inside to replace the elation. She was right, of course, but he wished she weren't. “Is it okay if look her up on the Net? I just want to know what she looks like.”

His father said, “Sure, no harm in that, and wanting to know is natural.”

“Thanks.”

With concern in her voice, his mom asked, “Are you okay?”

“I guess, but like you said, sending me her name was real cruel.”

They nodded understandingly.

“I'm going over to Amari's for about an hour for our Idol practice.”

“How's the James Brown revue going?”

“Don't ask. Amari thinks Devon's insane, and I do too.” Preston wasn't looking forward to the rehearsal or the competition. “Are you two still coming to watch the asteroid shower with our class in the morning?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Thought we'd leave here around three thirty,” the colonel said.

Everyone was meeting out at Tamar's because there were fewer lights there than anywhere else, especially now that the solar lights were all over town. “I'm going to bed soon as I get back. See you later. I liked the dancing.”

Up in the room, Preston stared at the name he'd printed out. He wanted to Google it right then so badly, but James Brown and the other Flames were waiting. He went across the street, and Trent let him in. “They're in the basement. Just follow the sound of your boy fussing.”

Preston hadn't any idea what that meant, but while going down the basement steps he heard, “Mom, I'm
not
wearing a wig!”

Entering the finished basement with its big-screen TV and comfortable seating, Preston saw the mutiny on Amari's face, the determination on Devon's, and the humor on Eli's. Ms. Lily was saying, “One day you're going to need Devon's help with something, Amari.”

“I'll bet it won't involve wearing a wig. Come on, Mom. Why are you encouraging this crap?”

“It isn't crap. Once you get into it, it's going to be fun. Promise.”

“Bull—I mean, no, it's not!”

Ms. Lily shook her head and smiled.

Eli said, “Oh, stop whining and just put the thing on.”

They finally noticed Preston standing there, and Amari asked, “Do you want to wear a wig?”

Wig! Nobody said anything about wearing wigs!

But Eli was in front of the mirror on the wall, putting his on and cracking up. “I look like Elvis.”

Ms. Lily held out a black hairy thing for Preston to take that resembled something he'd seen on the heads of the old ladies riding the bus back in Milwaukee. He took it only because she was an adult and he had to, but he had no intentions of putting it on his own head.

Devon tugged his on, and Ms. Lily began styling it with a comb.

Eli, still enjoying his reflection in the mirror, looked puzzled for a moment. “How's that song go? Oh, yeah”—he sang out loudly—“Viva Las Vegas!”

Amari grumbled, “You don't look like Elvis. You just look ridiculous.”

Preston thought he looked a lot like Fred Munster.

Trent came down, took one look at the boys, and immediately went back up the steps, laughing uproariously.

Amari yelled, “No fair laughing, Dad! This shit's not funny.”

“Amari . . .  ,” his mom warned.

“It's not!”

Preston realized that if Amari surrendered, he'd have to as well, and suddenly his worries about being embarrassed by his parents doing the tango were superseded by the reality of his own public embarrassment. If he had known this was the cruise he'd signed on for, he would've cashed in his ticket and let the ship sail without him.

In the end, Amari donned his wig, and Preston did the same.

Eli laughed. “Now we all look like Eddie Murphy in
Dreamgirls
.”

“Shut up!” Amari snapped.

Preston hadn't gone anywhere near the mirror and had no intentions of doing so. He already knew how wack he looked.

Devon was beaming under his wig, however. Pretending he had a microphone in his hand, he bent over and sang, “Please, please, don't go.” He then did a few of James Brown's swift-footed moves and grinned.

Amari looked like he wanted to make him eat the imaginary mic, and Preston wasn't far behind.

Devon asked, “Is Ms. Genevieve through making my cape?”

“Almost,” his mom replied. “Okay, Eli. Your turn.”

While Preston looked on, Ms. Lily took the comb and scissors to Eli's black wig. Preston had no idea where she'd gotten the fake hair, but he wished he knew, so he could return his. When she was done with all the cutting and the curling iron, Eli had a pompadour that the old guy Little Richard would have been proud of. Eli went back to the mirror and grinned from ear to ear. He picked up his phone and passed it to Preston.

“Here, take a picture. I want to send it to my dad.”

Preston couldn't imagine why Eli was so into this madness, but he took the pic and gave the phone back.

It was Amari's turn to get styled next, and he wore an angry face the entire time his mom worked on him. Once he had his pompadour, he got up and sat down heavily on the couch.

“You're looking good, Amari,” Devon said.

“Get away from me,” Amari snarled.

Preston was last and endured the process without comment. The wig was hot, however. He felt like he was wearing a blanket on his head.

“All done, Brain. Go look.”

“I'd rather not. Can I take it off now?”

“Hold on a minute.”

She retrieved three wig stands from the table and passed them out. “Put them on here when you're not wearing them.”

Preston immediately raised his hands to his and was told, “But don't snatch them off. Be gentle.”

So he gently removed the stupid thing from his head and set it on the faceless wig stand. They were supposed to be rehearsing too, but he'd had enough trauma for one evening. “Okay. We have to get up early to see the asteroids, so I'm going home and going to bed.”

Devon protested, “But we're supposed to practice.”

Amari removed his wig and started for the stairs. Preston was sure Amari was going to respond with a certain two-word phrase Preston thought highly appropriate considering the hell Devon was putting them through, but Amari didn't respond, probably because he didn't want to go back on lockdown.

“But Mom!” Devon whined like the brat he could sometimes be as Amari disappeared.

“Give it a rest, Dev,” Ms. Lily replied. “You have a whole month and a half before the contest. There's plenty of time to rehearse. Leave your brother alone for now.”

He was pleased to hear her tell Devon to step back. Now if she could just be convinced to tell him to forget about the whole thing, he and Amari would be happy, but he knew that wasn't happening.

He said his good-byes. Carrying his pompadour on the wig stand, he left the July house to return to the sanity of his own.

Back upstairs in his room, he Googled his birth mother's title and name, and a lot of links popped up. For the next hour he read everything he could about the famous astrophysicist who'd given him up for adoption, and when he was done, he was quite impressed. She was a very well-known scientist. After all the searching, reading, and clicking on links, he hadn't found a picture of her, so he still didn't know what she looked like; he did find the phone number of her office, however. He wrote it down and went to bed.

T
he very sleepy Bernadine couldn't believe she'd agreed to get up before the crack of dawn to go and sit in an open field and watch a meteor shower, but she had. Although she wanted to go back to bed, a part of her was excited. This would be her first time participating in such an event, and from what she'd been hearing from her friends and neighbors, they'd never done anything like this either. The gathering was another example of Jack James's topical teaching; they were all so lucky to have him as the community's teacher.

She tiptoed around getting dressed because Crystal was still asleep and she didn't want to wake her. The town's oldest princess refused to get up at such an ungodly hour, extra credit or not, and Bernadine didn't force the issue. There were going to be a lot of more important things the two of them would butt heads over before she grew up and went out into life on her own, so Bernadine refused to sweat the small stuff.

Dressed, she went downstairs and got coffee and a bowl of cereal. As soon as she was done eating, and the caffeine kicked in, she called Mal to let him know she was ready to be picked up.

While waiting, she tried not to think about the work waiting for her at the office, but it took her over anyway. The fire trucks were on order. When Lily initially spoke with the Franklin fire chief, he'd agreed to help them out, but when Bernadine called him a few days later, he told her Mayor Wiggins had threatened to fire him if he did. The memory made her shake her head again, but instead of sending a hit man after Piggly Wiggly, she'd contacted the fire department over in Lawrence, and so far they'd been very forthcoming and generous in offering suggestions and answering the dozens of questions she and her people had about putting together a department for Henry Adams. She'd be calling their chief later today with more questions about building a structure to house the two trucks she'd purchased.

The police were done with the rec's parking lot, and replacement had already begun. New lights were also on order, scheduled to arrive by week's end. That there was still a murdering arsonist on the loose was disturbing. Sheriff Dalton said the person might be holed up somewhere, content to gloat over the terror and never strike again, or planning a second act. She didn't like either scenario, but liked the latter the least. Her reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person responsible, widely publicized, had resulted in a few tips, but so far none were of any substance.