I'll Stand by You (2 page)

“Sit,” he said. “I’ll dish up the oatmeal.”

“Can I have raisins in mine?” Marshall asked.

“I don’t want no raisins,” Beep muttered defensively.

“You don’t want
any
raisins,” Johnny said, absently correcting the grammar as he dished up the hot cereal and dumped a handful of raisins on top of Marshall’s serving.

Beep frowned. “That’s what I said.”

Johnny grinned and kept dipping. Conversation ended as they began to eat. Oatmeal was not his favorite breakfast food, but it was hot, cheap, and filling, and that was that. Maybe when he won the lottery, they’d eat bacon and eggs.

He swallowed his oatmeal in eight bites, turned around, washed and rinsed his bowl, and put it in the drainer.

“Put your bowls in the hot water when you’re through,” he said and then pointed at Beep. “And don’t be putting any oatmeal in the dishwater again. Eat it. Don’t waste it.”

Beep nodded without looking up and shoveled another bite into his mouth.

“If he don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” Marshall said.

“If he doesn’t want it,” Johnny said, correcting his grammar too.

Marshall shrugged.

Johnny frowned. “Don’t shrug that off,” he said shortly. “When you don’t speak properly, people think you’re dumb, and we’ve got enough to live down without people thinking we’re stupid, understand?”

Marshall blinked. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

Beep looked nervous. If Marshall was in trouble, that probably meant he would be in trouble too.

Johnny eyed the anxious expressions on their faces and sighed.

“Look, guys, you’re not in trouble, okay? I just want you to be the best you can be, and that means no lazy talk, okay?”

“Is
ain’t
a lazy word, Johnny?” Beep asked.

Johnny nodded.

Beep beamed. “Then I ain’t gonna say that no more.”

Johnny grinned and left the kitchen shaking his head. It was time to cut his losses and end the grammar lesson, or they’d all be late.

He scratched his chin as he paused in the hall. He had time to shave or sweep, and he opted for sweeping. He didn’t want to walk on that gritty floor again tonight, and since he drove a bulldozer for Clawson Construction, no one there cared if he had whiskers.

By the time he was through, the boys were too. He sent them to brush their teeth and then went to look for rain gear. Marshall was outgrowing his hooded jacket. If Johnny had time this coming weekend, he’d stop by the Salvation Army resale shop and see what they had in stock.

“Guys, hurry up!” he yelled as he tossed the jackets by their backpacks and strode across the hall and into the bathroom. He eyed their hair and grabbed a comb, yanking it through their hair just enough to give it a semblance of propriety.

“Dang, Johnny! You messed up my ’hawk,” Marshall said as he re-combed his hair with his fingers until he had his Mohawk hairstyle back the way he liked it.

Johnny rolled his eyes and grabbed his youngest brother.

“Stand still, Beep. I just need to get this…” Johnny stopped and frowned, then looked closer at the knot in his little brother’s hair. “What the hell is that in your hair?”

“You cussed,” Beep muttered.

Johnny parted the knot with the tip of the comb.

“Is that gum? Did you go to bed with gum in your mouth again?”

Beep shrugged.

“Crap on a stick, boy, you aren’t gonna have a lick of hair left if you keep this up,” Johnny said and pulled a pair of scissors out of the drawer in the vanity.

Marshall eyed the latest surgery absently, then pointed at the other bald spots near his little brother’s right ear.

“At least it’s on the same side,” he offered.

Johnny rolled his eyes. The kid’s head was beginning to look like he had ringworm, which would definitely set him up as a target if any of the kids noticed it.

“Don’t let anybody pick on you,” he said.

Marshall put his hand on Beep’s shoulder. “If they do, I’ll whup ’em,” he offered.

“Every man has to fight his own fights,” Johnny said as he tossed the hair ball into the trash. “No more gum for you at night, bud,” he said gently and gave Beep a quick hug.

Marshall frowned, listening as the rain began to hammer on the roof above them.

“Oh man, it’s raining. We won’t get to go outside at recess,” he grumbled.

“There’s always recess another day. Go get your stuff,” Johnny said. “I’ve still got to drop you off at Miss Jane’s so she can take you to school later. And don’t make her have to wait for you when school’s over. Get your butts out to the van.”

“Okay, Johnny, we promise,” Marshall said.

He was old enough to realize how fragile the framework of their little family really was—Beep not so much. If Miss Jane got mad at them and quit being their babysitter, then that would mess up Johnny’s job, and Johnny couldn’t lose his job, or they’d be homeless, and he didn’t want to be homeless. Daddy was in prison and wasn’t ever coming out, and Mama was dead and buried. He lived in fear of what they’d lose next.

Within a few minutes, Johnny had loaded them into his old SUV and was driving across town to Miss Jane’s Before and After. She called herself a part-time day care, but since she refused to wipe baby butts, her only service was taking kids to school and picking them up afterward. She furnished an after-school snack and expected them to sit quietly and do homework until they were picked up before suppertime. Miss Jane also did not tolerate roughhousing, which meant the Pine brothers were on notice at least once a week.

Johnny accelerated slightly as he approached the incline where the old railroad tracks used to be. Even though the train no longer ran through Blessings, it was still the demarcation point for the wrong side of town. While Johnny had grown up there, he had himself a plan. He was going to take his family into a better way of life or die trying.

* * *

Ruby Dye frowned when she heard the rain peppering against her windows. Rain was never a good sign for a beauty shop. The Curl Up and Dye had a reputation to maintain, and humidity played hell with a hairdo, especially Vera’s and Vesta’s creations. The Conklin twins were inordinately fond of hair spray and used it liberally, although it had a tendency to turn hair into a helmet on high-humidity days.

She glanced at the clock. It was almost seven a.m. If she left now, she’d have time to do a load of towels at the shop and mop the floor before Willa Dean Miller showed up for her weekly shampoo and style.

Willa Dean ran the local travel agency. Last year, she’d booked a trip to Italy for Patty June Clymer after Patty divorced her preacher husband for fornicating with a local whore. The divorce had caused quite a stir in Blessings, and Willa Dean’s business increased dramatically after Patty June came back talking about good-looking Italian men.

But Ruby wasn’t in the market for travel beyond going to the salon, so she put on her raincoat, gave her own hair a last check, and flipped a curl back in place.

Ruby liked to change her hair color on a regular basis as a walking advertisement for what she sold, which was beauty in a bottle. She’d been blond and curly for the past two months and liked the look. It brought out the green in her eyes. She grabbed her purse and umbrella as she left the house, grateful for her covered porch and carport.

She had a Garth Brooks CD playing in her car and the windshield wipers seemed to swipe rhythmically to the music as she drove toward Main. On impulse, she swung by a drive-through at a local bakery and picked up a dozen doughnuts. The twins were cranky on rainy days, and a little sweetening up might be in order.

Today was also Mabel Jean Doolittle’s birthday. Her manicurist was a real sweet girl, and while Ruby hadn’t bought her a gift, Mabel Jean would be just as happy with a jelly doughnut and a week of free booth rent.

* * *

On the other side of town, semi-newlyweds Mike and LilyAnn Dalton were still sleeping. Mike had a spa/gym down on Main Street that was temporarily closed for renovations, and LilyAnn had taken off work today for her monthly doctor checkup. She was four months pregnant and still struggling with morning sickness. Added to that, her emotions were on a perpetual-motion merry-go-round. Between the daily drama of throwing up and bawling for no reason, this was getting on her last nerve. However, Mike was over the moon that there was a baby on the way, and when she felt better, she’d be on the same page. She’d wasted far too much of her life already.

* * *

Unlike most of the other businesses in Blessings, Granny’s Country Kitchen never suffered a loss of business on nasty days. In fact, bad weather had a tendency to draw more people to warm, cozy places, and there was nothing more comforting in the South than hot biscuits, sausage gravy, and a great cup of coffee.

The waitresses were turning in an unusual amount of orders, and Walt Warden, the morning cook at Granny’s, was turning them right back out just as quickly. The customers continued to come in, but then lingered because of the rain. Before long, the place was packed, and there were a half-dozen people waiting for to-go orders as well.

Dori never looked up from her job. She scraped leftovers, rinsed, and loaded dishes into the commercial-style dishwasher without hesitation. It took ten minutes for them to run through the superhot cycles, another five of rinse and heat dry, and then a couple of minutes of cooldown before she took them out again and stacked them back into service for the cook and servers. It was a nonstop process that kept her in constant motion. By the time the breakfast rush was over, it was after ten a.m. and she was ready for a potty break.

She glanced up as the back door swung inward and the owner, Lovey Cooper, came in, shedding a raincoat and umbrella as she went. Lovey smiled at Dori and waved at Walt, who was scraping down the grill.

“Busy morning?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dori said as she took off her rubber gloves and waterproof apron before heading to the bathroom.

After she finished, she washed her hands without looking in the mirror, a subconscious act reflecting the disgust she had with her life.

She was concerned about Luther’s little bottom. It was pretty raw from that diarrhea, and she felt guilty all over again for giving him the whole jar of prunes. Without a woman to ask for advice, raising her baby was a case of “live and learn.” Unfortunately, Luther was the one suffering the consequences.

She dried her hands quickly and went back into the kitchen. The last dishwasher load was just about done, and she was gearing up mentally to be ready for the lunch crowd. Her daily shift was from six a.m. to two p.m., at which time the second-shift dishwasher, Larry Bemis, would come in and work until close. She glanced up at the clock again. Eight more minutes on her break—just enough time to call home—so she slipped into the back hallway for privacy. When her granddaddy answered before the second ring, Dori knew Luther was down for a nap and Granddaddy was making sure nothing woke him before it was over.

“Hello, Dori. Everything okay, honey? Did you make it to work before the rain?”

She smiled. “Hi, Granddaddy. Everything’s fine. It rained on me some, but I didn’t get too wet. Everything okay there?”

Meeker Webb chuckled. “You are a worrywart just like your grandma was. Everything is fine, including me and buster. There’s food in the kitchen, and the roof don’t leak, so we’re high and dry. Can’t ask for anything more.”

She laughed. “Okay. I hear you. I love you. See you this afternoon.”

“Deal,” he said.

She dropped the phone back in her pocket and returned to the kitchen, put the apron and rubber gloves back on, and began emptying the busboy’s latest tub of dirty dishes. One thing was for sure: scraping out other people’s leavings was a deterrent for overeating. She was as thin as she’d ever been in her life.

* * *

The rain at Johnny’s job site made removing stumps easy, and Floy Beaudine had six of them he wanted out. But Floy had also warned Johnny not to tear up his pasture with the bulldozer if the ground got too wet.

Johnny had three stumps out before the ground got soft, and now the dozer tracks were making ruts in the pasture. It was time to stop. He was in the act of loading up the dozer when his cell phone rang. He jumped up into the truck cab, out of the rain, to take the call, and then, when he saw it was the school, his heart skipped a beat. They never called unless there was a problem.

“Hello?”

“Johnny Pine?”

The woman’s voice was clipped, the disdain in her voice a faint, long-distance slap on the cheek.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is Principal Winston. Your brother Brooks was fighting at school. He’s in the office, and you need to come get him.”

Johnny thought of those bald spots on the back of Beep’s head and muffled a groan. He’d feared as much.

“Is he all right?” he asked.

“He has a black eye, and his nose is bleeding. It seems a bit crooked. It might be broken. We thought you would want to get him checked out.”

Johnny gasped. Little kids didn’t usually do much damage to each other, but a broken nose was a lot more than a scuffle.

“Broken? What the hell happened to him? Who did that?”

“The children were sent to recess in the gym because of the rain, and some of them were—”

The skin crawled on the back of Johnny’s neck.

“Some? As in more than one jumped on Beep?”

She hesitated. “Well, we’re still investigating the—”

“I am on my way, and you better have the responsible parties in the office when I get there.”

“Now see here, Johnny! You—”

“It’s Mr. Pine to you, ma’am, and we’ll continue this discussion face-to-face.”

He hung up and got out of the truck. Minutes later, he had the dozer loaded and was driving back to town, talking to his boss as he went.

“Mr. Clawson, this is Johnny. I got three of the stumps out of Mr. Beaudine’s pasture before I had to stop because the ground got too soft. I was just loading up when I got a call from school. Beep’s been hurt, so I need to run him by the ER, okay?”

Clawson liked Johnny Pine and had known him for years. Johnny was the best worker Clawson had, and he never asked for favors. It was not a problem to grant this one.