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Authors: Laura Golden

Every Day After (20 page)

BOOK: Every Day After
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Twenty
 

The Greatest Conqueror Is He Who Conquers Himself

I jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn. Mr. Hinkle opened up at seven sharp, and I’d be waiting when he did. I put on my church dress just for the occasion. You’re supposed to dress nicely for business dealings, and business dealings were what I’d be having most of the morning—first with Mr. Hinkle and then with some other not-so-nice people after that. When I crossed the hall to get Mama, I could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. If Mrs. Butler had been an early bird before she moved in, she’d be one after. Pigs would fly before she’d change her schedule.

Mama was already sitting up on the side of her bed. She looked up at me. “Morning, Mama. Mrs. Butler’s got your coffee brewing. Are you ready to get dressed?”

No reply. Oh, well, wasn’t anything new.

I went over to her dresses and pulled out the pink floral with the lace collar and white buttons, the same one I’d dressed her in nearly a month earlier—the last day she’d
actually spoken to me. But unlike the last time I’d put it on her, this time I helped her slip on her silk stockings, making sure the seam down the back was perfectly straight, and brushed her hair back into a neat bun at the base of her neck. I knew we’d be having visitors for the second day in a row, and I wanted to be sure Mama looked proper for them. She’d want that too.

Mrs. Butler looked up from the grits on the cookstove when we came in. “Oh, Rose,” she said as she clasped her hands together. “You look beautiful today.” Mrs. Butler smiled at me; then she turned and spooned some grits into a bowl for Mama. I poured the coffee and topped it off with some milk. It was one of the few times since Daddy had left that Mama had eaten breakfast at the kitchen table. The sight of her sitting there in her pink dress with her smooth bun filled me with hope.

“Where’s Ben?” I asked Mrs. Butler.

“Oh, he’s already gone over to Mr. Reed’s, dear. Sometimes I believe that boy would live there if I’d let him.” She laughed. “I never would’ve thought it. Not in a thousand years.” She shook her head and walked back over to the stove to take the biscuits from the oven.

“I need to run over to Hinkle’s this morning, if that’s all right,” I said. “I’ve got something I need to do before all the vultures come back.”

Mrs. Butler turned around to face me. She was grinning but trying to hide it. I could tell. “Now, Lizzie, they’re not vultures. They’re just trying to help, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Help us right out of our house.”

“I’m sure that’s not what they want.” She sat down across from Mama and took a sip of coffee. “Not all of them, anyway.” She winked, and I knew she was talking about Erin and Mrs. Sawyer. “Now, hadn’t you best get on with what you need to get done? I’ll take care of your mama till you get back. Ben’s supposed to come home early and help me get the rest of our belongings—the ones we’re allowed to take.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. For everything.”

“Thank you, too.”

I nodded, then kissed Mama’s cheek. “Be back,” I said, and I was out the door, jogging down toward Hinkle’s.

The sun was up above the tree line now, and the birds were chirping and singing like it was the end of days. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and when I finally reached Hinkle’s, the glass door gleamed in the morning light. I pushed it open, and the bell clanked above my head. I said a quick prayer that my plan would work. Whether it did or not, I owed it to Mama and to Ben to try.

Mr. Hinkle looked up from the figures inside his notebook. “Mighty early this mornin’, Miss Lizzie. You decide you love working here so much you just gotta be around for opening too?” He looked back down at his notebook and scribbled something.

“Mr. Hinkle, can I talk to you about something?” He closed his notebook and looked at me. At least I had his attention. “I’ll start at the beginning.” He already knew
about Daddy—that was common knowledge around town, but that was just about all he knew. In close to one breath I spilled out the whole rest of the story—the parts about Erin, and the bank, and the orphanage and Mama. The whole ugly truth.

Mr. Hinkle’s eyes widened as I spoke. The wider they got, the less they twinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me all this a long time ago?”

“I didn’t want to let Daddy down. He’d want me to take care of things by myself. I figured it wouldn’t count if I got help.”

“Oh, Lizzie, I’m sure if your daddy could see you now, he’d be prouder than he ever thought he could be.”

There’d been a time when I thought I’d burst into a million pieces if I heard my daddy was proud of me, but now that I’d heard it, it didn’t matter anymore.
I
was proud of me, and right now that felt better than a mountain of Goo Goo Clusters waiting for me on Christmas morning.

“So, here’s what I wanted to ask you.” I reached up and gripped my locket. I rubbed it for the last time, then took it off and placed it on the counter in front of him. I somehow felt lighter with it off. “Are you still interested in buying this?”

Mr. Hinkle picked up the locket and studied it, the corners of his eyes crinkled even more than usual. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even grunt. He just kept looking at the locket, then me, then the locket. Finally he spoke. “You sure, Lizzie? You seemed pretty intent on keeping
it a while back. Its sale would be final, you know. Won’t be any taking it away from Mrs. Hinkle once she’s wearing it.”

“Yes, sir. I understand. How much do you think it’s worth?”

He rubbed his chin for a few seconds. “I figure around ten dollars.”

“So that’s your best offer?” I crossed my fingers, and toes, for good measure. If he hadn’t been looking me square in the face, I’d have crossed my eyes. Ten dollars was more than I’d dreamed.

“It is. What do you say?”

I could’ve leapt square over the counter and flung my arms around him, but I thought better of it. He was my boss now, after all. I had to try to act professional. “Yes, sir,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

I removed the faded pictures of me and Daddy from the locket and placed them in my left pocket. Then I carefully folded the ten dollars and put them in my right.

Mr. Hinkle watched me without saying a word, as though he thought I shouldn’t
really
be selling my locket.

“May I ask for one more thing?” I said.

“Go ahead and ask, but I can’t promise you anything. You’ve near cleared me out this morning, and we still got the rest of the day to go.”

“It won’t cost you anything,” I said. “I was wondering if you had any old boxes I could use to make a sign to hang in your window.”

“Sure do. I have plenty of old boxes, but what in the world do you need to make a sign for?”

“For more boarders.”

“Boarders? You taking in boarders?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Got the Butlers living with us already.”

“Well, good for you. You best make that sign as pretty as possible. I hear the Martins are some tough competition for boarder seekers.”

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Martin’s got all the people she can handle right now.”

“Well, all righty, then. Be back in a jiffy with a box. You cut it to the size of your liking.”

Before long I had my sign. I thought it looked pretty good. Not as good or colorful as Mr. Hinkle’s signs or anything, but eye-catching in its own way. He showed me the best window to display it in.

I was taping the first corner to the glass when Mrs. Hinkle came scurrying through. She came to a sudden halt and stared at my sign. “Land sakes, look at that! Letting her trash up our front windows when I cleaned them just this morning. Injustice! That’s what it is.”

I looked over at Mr. Hinkle, expecting to see his usual twinkly eyes and slyly grinning lips, but they’d disappeared. His face was hard, his teeth clenched. He jammed his hand into his pocket, yanked out the locket, and marched over to Mrs. Hinkle. Not an inch from her face he hollered, “I’ve had enough! After forty-two years
of your yammering on and on and on, I’ve had enough, I tell you!”

Mrs. Hinkle, for possibly the first time in her entire life, was stunned into silence. “Why, Herbert,” she whispered.

“Don’t you ‘Why, Herbert’ me. If I have to hear one more word, I’ll fire you. Don’t you dare think I won’t.” He jerked his thumb toward me. “I already got your replacement lined up.” He snatched up her hand and plunked the locket into it. “There you are. That should keep you quiet for a while. Though why in this world Lizzie had to give it up to you is beyond me. There has to be a more deserving person out there.” He closed her hand around the locket. “Injustice! That’s what it is.”

Mr. Hinkle stomped back to his counter, and Mrs. Hinkle slumped off into the back. I finished hanging my sign, making sure it was straight and checking that none of the words were hidden from view.

Mr. Hinkle’s outburst had convinced me that there was some justice in the world. That outburst was exactly what Mrs. Hinkle deserved. I wasn’t sure how long her pouting spell would last, but I thought if there was any justice for Mr. Hinkle, it’d last for the next forty-two years.

I turned back into our drive just before nine and rushed inside to check on Mama. Mrs. Butler had helped her out onto the back porch and was sitting beside her, cutting some squares for a new quilt.

“How is she?” I asked.

Mrs. Butler glanced over at Mama. “She’s fine.” She paused and then went on, “She’ll be just fine.” She went back to her cutting and I went inside to grab $10.90 from the emergency savings jar and $1.60 from the jar under my bed. I carefully folded the money together with the $10.00 from the locket and put it into my pocket.

I’d just finished combing my hair when a knock at the front door rattled through the air. Mrs. Butler must’ve heard too, because she’d already let the whole gaggle of ’em in by the time I made it to the front door.

“Good morning,” she was saying as I came into the parlor. “I trust you all slept well.”

All the men—Mr. Cooper, the sheriff, and Dr. Heimler—nodded and removed their hats. “Very well, thank you,” they said. But not Mrs. Sawyer. Oh, no. She hadn’t slept a wink worrying herself silly about us.

Mrs. Butler tried to be patient. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Mrs. Sawyer. May I get you some coffee?”

“That may do some good, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Please make yourselves comfortable. Lizzie, will you help me?”

In the kitchen, I confronted Mrs. Butler about her overly nice ways. “You haven’t got to be that friendly, you know. A pair of ’em aren’t all that nice anyway.”

She placed the sugar bowl onto a serving tray and said, “Don’t you know you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?”

“No, ma’am, but it sure does sound like something
Mama would say.” I took enough coffee cups from the cabinet to serve the men too.

Mrs. Butler stopped filling the creamer and looked at me. “You know, I do believe that’s where I heard it.”

We finished pouring the coffee and put it onto the tray with the cream and sugar. We placed it on the table in front of the sofa and let the guests serve themselves. Dr. Heimler and Erin were the only ones who didn’t take any.

“How is your mama this morning, Lizzie?” he asked. “Do you mind if I take a look at her?”

“She’s fine, sir. She’s out on the back porch.”

“Shall we, then?”

We all herded out to the porch and converged around Mama. Erin’s eyes darted back and forth between Mama and the doctor. He bent and gently held Mama’s wrist, feeling her pulse. He nodded and placed her hand back on her book.

“Well, Dr. Heimler, what do you think?” Mrs. Butler whispered, her voice tight. She took a deep breath and laid her hand across her chest.

The doctor stepped over to me, the lines across his forehead softer than they’d been the day before. “I understand that you want to take care of your mama, Lizzie, but how are you going to manage that with no place to live?”

“Oh, we’ll have a place to live, all right, and it’ll be here. I’ll pay Mr. Cooper his money right this minute, and we’ll pay him every month from here on. Don’t you doubt it.”

BOOK: Every Day After
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