One Lane Bridge: A Novel (11 page)
Read One Lane Bridge: A Novel Online
Authors: Don Reid
It was as if Paul Clem wanted to pick a fight. And maybe he did. This man had a lot of steam built up in him, and J. D. was becoming more and more aware that Paul was sensing something was amiss about the whole situation. But if he was ever going to be able to see Lizzie again, he had to defuse whatever was boiling in Paul Clem’s mind.
“Mr. Clem, I’m going to want to come back in a day or two and check on Lizzie. I’ll bring you anything you need when I come.”
Paul Clem thought for a few seconds and said, “I could use a few things. A new hoe handle, some chicken feed and tobacco. And bring Lizzie somethin’ to read. She likes books, and she may not get to school for a while this year.”
“What year is she in at school?”
“High school. She’s got a couple more years.”
“I’ll bring all that the next time I come. I guess I’d better be going, but I want to say good-bye to her before I go.”
Paul nodded as permission, and J. D. walked back into the parlor. But he got only halfway across the room before he saw that the young girl was asleep. He walked quietly to the side of the bed. She had covered herself with blankets clear to her chin in this stifling hot room. Only her left hand was out from under the covers, and he could see she was clutching something in her fist. It was the bottle of pills he had left on the night table. He reached up and turned off the lamp and said a silent prayer for her health, her well-being, and the life journey ahead of her.
He walked back through the kitchen and stopped to say something, but Paul was nowhere to be found. When he stepped outside, he looked in all directions and even called Paul’s name twice, but there was no answer. J. D. got in the van and started the engine, and just as he was about to back down the lane toward the road, he thought he saw someone at an upstairs window. He hit the brakes and looked again, but whoever or whatever it was, was gone. He sat for a moment and decided it was only a shadow or his eyes playing tricks on him. He put the van in reverse and backed out onto Route 814.
The downtown Dining Club was in the middle of the afternoon shift change. Karlie was sitting in the back corner booth working on an ad for the next day’s newspaper. She was holding a ruler tight on her paper and printing her perfectly formed letters above it when she sensed someone standing at the table. She finished the line she was working on before looking up. It was Lottie, her purse in her hand and her blue sweater around her shoulders, preppy style.
“May I sit down, or are you busy?”
“The answer to both those questions is yes. I’d like the break.”
Lottie looked serious but not nervous or concerned or even uneasy.
“Do we need to talk about what went on here yesterday?”
“Only if you feel a need to, Lottie.”
“I guess I do.” She forced a little laugh. “I wouldn’t have come over to talk if I didn’t think it was necessary. Would I be out of line to ask what happened with Crystal after I left yesterday?”
“Have you asked Crystal?”
“No. She didn’t bring it up, so neither did I. I didn’t want to embarrass anybody, and then I came in this morning and Katherine wasn’t here. I’m just rather confused over everything.”
“I’ll be the first to admit things are sort of a mess right now, but I don’t feel comfortable talking to you about the other girls. I think you can appreciate that.”
“Oh, I do. Don’t misunderstand. I’m just in the dark, and Randy was pretty upset when I told him about it last night. We just wanted to know where I stood. I guess Crystal is in the clear, and with Katherine gone, does that mean she’s the guilty party? That’s all we were wondering.”
“Well, if Katherine’s gone, it’s of her own volition. I can’t really answer that right now.” Karlie watched Lottie fold a paper napkin into smaller and smaller squares. “And speaking of Randy—how’s he doing?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Things are going a lot better for us.”
“Is he still working two jobs?”
As if a flash of yellow cartoon lightning had crackled across the table between them, Lottie pulled back, leaving the multifolded napkin on the table. She dropped her hands into her lap and pressed her lips together so tightly she had to spit her words out.
“Just what are you implying? If I say he’s working just one job, would you suddenly think I’m the one who took the money? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” Karlie said calmly, “I’m not implying anything. I was simply asking if he was still working two jobs. Anything more you read into that is your own doing, Lottie.”
“He quit his part-time job because he got a raise at Gillman Design. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Sounds like good news to me. Congratulations.”
“I don’t know what I expected to gain by talking to you. I just … well, I just always liked you so much, and I thought we could talk this thing out. But I have to be honest with you. I don’t feel good about this. I think you have bad thoughts about me.”
“Lottie, this is not an easy time for me. I’m handling this and a few other things that are precious to me right now with as much care and dignity as I can muster. I don’t need you going off the deep end just because you want me to say something I’m not prepared to say. We have a problem here at the restaurant. It
will
be taken care of, and when it is, you’ll know all about it in good time.”
“Well, I guess there’s nothing more to say on the matter. I’ll be in tomorrow at the regular time unless I hear different from you or J. D. If you want me to quit you just let me know.”
“We’ll see you in the morning, Lottie. Have a nice evening.”
J. D. drove back to Hanson with mixed emotions running through his head. He knew he should call and cancel the four-fifteen appointment with Dr. Carnham, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now. He was glad to have gotten the penicillin to Lizzie, and yet he couldn’t be sure that would solve all her problems. He didn’t feel good about Paul and how they had left things. If he went back—no, make that
when
he went back—he didn’t know if Paul would open the door to him again. And when should he go back? Tonight? Tomorrow? The next day? It was the same calendar date now, but what would it be the next time? The same year? A different month? Two weeks later? He couldn’t find a single minute of peace about any of this. And what would he say to Karlie? He knew that as soon as he told her, she would make him promise never to go again. He didn’t want to put himself in that situation. This couldn’t go on forever. Or what if it did? What if it went on until the times collided? No. He had to get those thoughts out of his head. They only made the back of his neck and the top of his skull ache. He had to clear his head a little before he got home. But first, he had one important stop to make.
His knock was answered swiftly and with a smile.
“J. D. Wickman, come in, come in.”
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this, Ms. Justice, but I thought I needed to see you.”
“Not at all. I’m glad you did. How did things go with Navin?”
“Navin? Ah, you mean Dr. Annata. Just perfect. He gave me exactly what I wanted, and I was out of there in minutes.”
“He’s a good man. A little unconventional, but a good man. Have a seat.”
J. D. sat down in the same blue wing-backed chair he had sat in two days before. Lavern Justice sat on the end of the sofa closest to him. She waited for him to speak, and he could see she was anxious for him to begin. She was like a child waiting to be told a secret.
“First, thank you for your help today. I couldn’t have pulled any of this off without you. Not legally anyway.”
Lavern laughed, “I’m not sure how legal it was, but I’m glad it worked. Did it work?”
“I think so. I saw the girl and gave her the amoxicillin and left her with the instructions. Keep your fingers crossed.”
“Good. What else? There’s some other reason you’re here.”
“Yes, there is. I need more help from you. I need to find out who this family is, and I know you can do it in half the time it would take me. You worked in the courthouse, and you know how to trace someone and do research on them. I don’t. So will you help me?”
“Of course I will, J. D. Let me get a pen and paper.”
She reached over to a drawer under her coffee table and took out a tablet and a number two pencil. She wrote something at the top of the page and then looked up at J. D. “Fire away.”
“This girl’s name is Lizzie Clem. She’s sixteen years old, and it’s 1942—so that means she was born in 1926, depending on exactly when her birthday is. I don’t know that. Her father is Paul Clem, and her mother was Ada. If she’s alive today she’d be … what, eighty-one years old? Chances are she’s not living today. I have no idea. But either way, there has to be a birth certificate or something on her. I just want some sort of proof that there was or is such a person as Lizzie Clem. Do you have any idea how to go about researching all that?”
Lavern finished writing before she looked up. When she did, she rubbed her chin with her index finger and said, “Tomorrow is Friday. I can start on the Internet this evening and then go to the courthouse in the morning. I’ll call you by at least Monday noon. Maybe before.”
“You don’t mind doing this, do you, Lavern?” He called her by her first name before even thinking.
“Are you kidding me, young man? You give an old woman reason to live!”
Karlie was putting a casserole in the oven, and Angela, who was supposed to be making the salad, was sitting at the kitchen island eating lettuce from the bowl. Angela watched her mother a long time before she drummed up the courage to say what was nearly bursting her head open. She didn’t want to invade on an old family secret, but at the same time she felt she deserved to know the truth. This time alone with her mother was as good a time as any. Just getting the first word out was the trick. Once the commitment was made with that first word, the conversation would take care of itself.
“Mamma, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, honey. Here, take this pitcher and fill it with ice cubes. What do you want to ask me?”
Angela stood at the refrigerator and dipped ice cubes into the glass tea pitcher, straining to think of the right words. She didn’t want to embarrass her mother. But, at the same time, she desperately wanted to let her know that she was aware of a truth that her mother had never bothered to share.
“Didn’t you and Daddy graduate from college together?”
“Yes, we did. May 24, 1986. We set our wedding date that same night and got married three months later.”
“You even remember the date of graduation?”
“You will too, honey. So many dates that are important in your life just seem to stick with you. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering.” Angela was back at the salad bowl eating snips of lettuce. “But didn’t you and Daddy go to high school together also?”
“Sure did.
We’ll give it a try—do it or die—at Hanson High.
Your daddy lettered in baseball, and I was a cheerleader—and, of course, baseball is the one sport that doesn’t have cheerleaders. So I was traveling all over the state with the football team and the basketball team, and then when baseball season came around I couldn’t go to all the games unless I got a ride with someone. I caused a big stir his senior year.”
“What happened?”
“I went to the athletic director, Mr. Scone. And don’t think we didn’t have fun with that name. Anyway, I complained to him that baseball didn’t have cheerleaders and I didn’t think it was fair to the team in the name of school spirit and all that stuff. Well, surprisingly, he agreed with me and urged me to register a complaint—those were his words, ‘register a complaint’—with the principal and the school board.”
“No, you didn’t!” And Angela began to laugh.
“Oh, I’m afraid I did. I made quite the scene. Put up posters all over school.”
“What did they say?”
“The posters, or the school board?” And Karlie was laughing too.
“Both,” Angela said through her giggles.
“The posters said something like ‘Baseball is a school sport too’
and … oh dear, I don’t remember anymore. But the school board—I went to one of their meetings and they let me state my case, and then they discussed it. It was in the papers, and what a mess! Your granddaddy Bill finally said, ‘Enough,’ and it just sort of died away, but I had a lot of fun with it at the time.”
“This was your senior year?” Angela asked.
“That was my junior year. Your father’s senior year.”
“So you two didn’t graduate from high school together?”
“No. He was a year ahead of me.”
Angela took a deep breath and remembered everything her grandmother had recently told her. How he had wanted to quit and wait for his girlfriend so they could go off to college together. And how he had not been the perfect student that first year.
“If he was a year ahead of you in high school, how did it work out that you both graduated from college together?” Angela stared into the lettuce bowl, almost afraid to catch her mother’s eye. She was pretty certain they’d kept her father’s decision to leave school that first month a secret because it paralleled her own situation much too closely. She didn’t look up for fear of seeing the look on her mother’s face that surely told the whole story. But her mother’s answer and the tone of her voice gave nothing of the sort away.
“I finished in four years, and your father took five. He worked part time all the way through school, so he took a lighter schedule than I did. He worked for an electrician that did mostly campus maintenance, and I used to tease him that he spent more time in the girls’ dorm than he did in the guys’. He was crawling around in every closet and attic and cubbyhole in the basements.”
Karlie stopped what she was doing and looked directly and curiously at her daughter and said, “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondered,” Angela said and tried to appear off-handed.
“If you’ll set the table, we’ll eat in about fifteen minutes. That is, if your daddy is home, and he should be by then.”
“Mamma, do you think, after we eat dinner, that it would be too late for me to go see Grandma again?”
“Not at all. She stays up late like you wouldn’t believe. She’s always telling me who’s on Leno. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”