Sit! Stay! Speak! (13 page)

“Let's go outside with Warren and Neil,” Wanda hollered from the hallway. “I want to see that view!”

“Sounds great,” Addie said. She was relieved to have something to look at other than Harper's legs.

“Wow,” Wanda said once they were outside.

“Jasper has one of the best views in Memphis,” Warren agreed.

“Kinda makes ya feel all kinds of Podunk, huh?” Wanda whispered. “Well, not y'all. Y'all are from a city.”

“Not everybody living in a city has a view like this,” Addie reminded her. “I'll be right back. I don't think I've been to the bathroom since before we left for dinner.” Addie slid the glass door open and stepped back inside the loft. She didn't see Jasper following her until it was too late to turn back around.

“Hey,” he said. “Have you had a good birthday?”

“Yes. Thank you so much for everything.”

“I'm sorry you ended up spending your night with a bunch of people you didn't know.”

“Don't be sorry,” Addie replied. “I've had more fun tonight than I've had in a long time.”

“Good. I'm glad you liked the cake.”

Addie held her breath as she slid past him. Jasper stared down at her for a second and continued on his way toward the kitchen. Just before he disappeared out of view she said, “Hey, Jasper?”

“Yes?”

“Is something going on between you and Harper?”

Jasper turned around. His face was sullen. His shoulders tightened. With one question he'd turned back into the old Jasper. “The only thing that's ever been between me and Harper is paperwork.”

“You couldn't even fit paperwork between the two of you on that couch,” Addie replied. She instantly regretted what she'd just said. “Forget it. It's none of my business.”

“You're right; it
is
none of your business.” Jasper caught her by the shoulder as she turned away from him. “But for the record, I'm telling you the truth.”

“Why are you so angry?”

Jasper pressed himself farther into her until her back was flat against the wall. His fingers traced along the outline of her face, her neck, and her breasts, before planting his hands firmly on her waist. “This dress is a felony.”

The glass patio door opened and muffled voices began to fill the loft. “Jasper!” Warren called out. “I hope you don't mind. I called a few friends to come over.”

“I've got to go,” Jasper said hoarsely, burying his head into the side of her neck. “Jesus Christ . . .”

Addie traced the stubble on his chin with her fingers, resting her thumb on his bottom lip. With a groan, Jasper pulled himself away from her. Taking her hand, he led her from the dimly lit hallway into the living room where their friends were eagerly waiting.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Addie awoke to a buzzing in her head like she'd had too many cups of coffee. Wanda was snoring next to her, one hand draped across Addie's midsection. Gingerly, she picked up Wanda's arm and slid out from underneath it.

The tile floor was cool beneath her feet and she shivered as she padded into the main part of the loft. She expected to see a disaster in the living room and kitchen—Warren's friends had made quite a mess. Everything looked exactly the same as it had yesterday when they'd arrived. There were no dirty dishes or empty beer bottles. Even the trash had been taken out of the trash can.

On the island in the kitchen there were two cloth bags with the logo from the market Addie remembered seeing down the street. There was also a carafe of orange juice.

Addie plopped herself down onto one of the bar stools and began to riffle through one of the bags. It looked as if Jasper had bought every breakfast food in the entire store. There was fruit, muffins, bagels, cream cheese, and a plethora of other foods. She pulled out a muffin and poured herself some orange juice.

Jasper was sitting out on the balcony reading the newspaper. He didn't look up when Addie slid open the door and stepped outside. “Good morning,” he said.

“The view is just as pretty in the daylight,” Addie said. She sat down in the chair beside him. “Memphis seems to be your element.”

“I love it here.”

“Is that why you've never sold your loft?”

“It may be one of the reasons.”

“I thought you were building a house in Eunice,” Addie said.

“I'm smart enough to know that I'll likely be there for a while, and I want to have a place to come back to that doesn't belong
to my father. You aren't the only one who doesn't want to live in Eunice forever.”

“I don't hate it there,” Addie replied. “I just never thought about making it my home.”

“Memphis is my home,” Jasper said. “Eunice . . . the farm . . . that's where I was born. That's likely where I'll die. But it isn't my home.”

Addie stared out into the abyss of city traffic. “I wish I felt that way about someplace.”

“You didn't feel that way about Chicago?”

“I used to. I always thought that Chicago was the best city in the world,” Addie said. “But after Jonah died no place felt like home. I couldn't go any of the places we used to go. I couldn't see any of our friends. It was too painful.”

Jasper looked back down at the newspaper and didn't say anything else. For once, Addie was grateful for his silence.

A
UGUSTUS
S
MOOT WAS SITTING ON
A
DDIE
'
S PORCH SWING
,
HIS
bathrobe flapping in the early morning breeze, his bony feet tap, tap, tapping against the newly replaced floorboards. She stared at him through the curtains for ten minutes before she opened the front door and stepped outside. The old man didn't speak, didn't look at her, even after the screen door slammed shut.

“Mr. Smoot?” Addie sat down next to him. “You're at the wrong house.”

No response.

“Your house is across the street.”

No response.

“Do you have someone I can call for you?”

No response.

“Maybe that lady with the nurse's shoes?”

Augustus's feet stopped tapping. “Your dog barks.”

“Most dogs do.”

“It keeps me awake.”

Addie shifted in the swing. “I'm sorry. He is scared a lot, so he barks.”

“What's he got to be scared of?”

“I don't know,” Addie replied, shrugging. “When I found him down by the levee, he'd been shot.”

Augustus turned to look at her for the first time. He raked a finger through his shock of white hair and said, “You went down to the levee?”

“I know, I know, it's not a good place.”

“It's my favorite place.”

A laugh escaped through Addie's lips. “Well, everybody else says it's a bad place, but my aunt used to take me there as a kid.”

“We had picnics there.”

“Who did?”

Augustus looked away from her. “Eleonora and I.”

“Was that your wife?” Addie didn't want to pry. Then again, the man was half naked and on her porch.

“You shouldn't go down to the levee.”

“But I thought you said it was your favorite place.”

“It's not safe there now,” Augustus replied.

“Do you know what happened to make it that way?”

When he looked at her again, his expression was grim. “The factories left. The river wasn't a means of transportation anymore. Families left their houses in the middle of the night.” Augustus pulled at the ties on his robe. “We lost half the town in a matter of a couple of years. The people left had to find another way to survive.”

“So they shoot dogs, stuff them in trash bags, and leave them at the riverbank?” Addie asked. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“Sometimes what you see on the surface is just a scratch,” Augustus
said. “What happened to your dog wasn't the cause.” He stood up on his spindly legs. “It was the result.”

She watched him walk away. He didn't look back, and he didn't say another word to her. He didn't even wait until he was inside to disrobe, and he strolled up his steps in nothing but his underwear. Addie wasn't sure whether her neighbor was a genius or crazy, but somewhere deep down inside of her, she was dying to find out.

A week later Addie sat in the waiting room at the vet clinic, Felix sitting patiently beside her. She couldn't wait to show Dr. Dixon how far he'd come since his last checkup.

“Addie!” Wanda came out from behind the reception desk to give Felix a pat. “What are you doing here?”

“I have an appointment,” Addie said. “I've had this appointment for two weeks.”

“I don't have you written down.”

“I got the other lady when I called,” Addie replied. “I think her name was Mavis . . . or something like that?”

“Mable. She was terrible.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “She lasted about three weeks, because she never wrote anything down.”

“I thought you were the receptionist.”

“I'm the vet tech,” Wanda said. “And I would really like to get back to my job of being the vet tech. But we've had trouble finding decent help for the front ever since Mrs. Dixon retired. So I've been stuck answering phones since the beginning of August.”

“So does that mean I don't really have an appointment today since Mavis didn't write it down?”

“Mable.”

“Whatever.”

Wanda jogged back around behind the desk and glanced down at the appointment book. “What it means is that we're overbooked.
It's you and Mr. LaFoy at nine thirty. Would you mind to wait until ten?”

“We don't mind.” Addie scratched Felix underneath his chin.

“Thanks. Mr. LaFoy does not like to be kept waiting.”

Dr. Dixon emerged from behind the double doors. “Wanda, I need you back here for a few minutes. We've got a cat with a toenail grown into its pad. I need your magical cat whispering skills.”

“Doc, the phone's been ringing off the hook this morning,” Wanda replied. “People get mad when they have to leave a message.”

“I could answer the phones for a bit,” Addie offered. “Felix and I are just going to be sitting here, anyway.”

“Great.” Wanda rushed to join Dr. Dixon. “Just come find me if you have any questions.”

“Can Felix come back here with me?”

“Whatever you want!” Wanda called over her shoulder.

Addie sat down behind the desk and released Felix from his leash. Felix plopped himself on the floor next to her. Addie began an attempt to make sense of the mess. Six hours later, Addie was still there. “You know,” she said to Wanda and Dr. Dixon, “you could make all of this a lot easier if you'd keep track of your records on the computer. There are lots of easy programs that are cost-effective.”

“Sounds like you've done this before.” Wanda peered over Addie's shoulder.

“I kept track of most of our contacts for the business,” Addie replied. “I didn't handle any of the financing, but I did a lot of the PR work, which required me to keep accurate records. People don't like it when they commission you to refinish their eighteenth-century china hutch and you forget they gave it to you.”

“We are in bad need of a part-time receptionist,” Dr. Dixon said. “Are you interested in coming in a few days a week?”

“I'd love to,” Addie began. “But I don't know how long I'm going to be here . . . I mean, I could just help until the end of the summer.”

“You turn into a pumpkin at the end of August?” Wanda asked.

“That's when I've planned to head back to Chicago.”

“Surely we'll be able to find someone full-time before then.” Dr. Dixon shifted his attention to Addie's dog, who was panting eagerly beneath them. “Felix is looking wonderful.”

“His mange is clearing up,” Addie said, beaming. “And he's still scared of some things, like thunder and that blond guy from
Kitchen Nightmares.
But those are totally normal things to be scared of.”

Wanda stifled a giggle. “You mean Gordon Ramsay? Girl, he's terrifying!”

“I think the mange has cleared completely,” Dr. Dixon replied. “We'll have to do a scraping to be sure, but we don't have to do that today.”

“Yeah, you can bring Felix to work with you,” Wanda said.

“Really?”

“Really,” Dr. Dixon continued. “And if you don't mind, I'd like to put off any lab work for another day. I'm beat.”

“No problem.”

“Come on.” Wanda motioned for Addie to follow her. “Let's get out of here and go back to my place. I'll feed both you and Felix.”

Addie didn't protest. She shut down the computer, grabbed Felix's leash, and followed Wanda out of the clinic.

“S
O YOU
'
RE TELLIN
'
ME THAT
A
UGUSTUS
S
MOOT WAS JUST SITTIN
' on your porch swing at six
A
.
M
.?” Wanda stood in the doorway of Addie's shed, watching her struggle with an oversized box.

“That's what I'm telling you.” Addie huffed. “Can you come over here and help me with this box?”

“Sure thing, sugar.”

“Why do you think my aunt had so many horseshoes?” Addie asked. “I mean, what on earth would she need with horseshoes?”

Wanda shrugged. “I don't recollect that she ever owned a horse.”

“Judging by half of the things I've found in here, I think she may have been just as crazy as Mr. Smoot.”

Wanda hung a horseshoe around her index finger and said, “I thought you said he wasn't crazy.”

“I don't know.” Addie wiped the sweat from her brow, smearing
rust all over her forehead. “He seemed sort of normal, except for, you know, him being on my porch in a bathrobe and underwear.”

“At least he had the sense to wear a bathrobe.”

The two women giggled.

“So have you talked to Jasper lately?” Wanda asked Addie as she counted horseshoes. “You haven't mentioned him at all.”

“Nope, not since Memphis.”

“One minute he's all hot and heavy and can't keep his eyes off of you, and another minute he's pretending like you don't exist,” Wanda replied.

“I don't understand him at all.”

“He's a Floyd.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if he had a ham under both arms he'd cry 'cause he didn't have no bread.”

“Did your granny just make this stuff up?”

“That one was my uncle Lawrence.”

Addie turned around to check on Bryar and Felix. Bryar had his arm around Felix and was stroking Felix's half ear as he watched the news. “Hey, Bryar! What do you think? Are we really going to have tornadoes on Sunday?”

“It is possible,” Bryar replied. “On average, twenty-six tornadoes occur every year in the state of Arkansas. But in 1999, a hundred and seven tornadoes were recorded, which is still the most in state history.”

Addie shot a look at Wanda who shrugged and said, “He makes me read to him out of the
Encyclopedia of Arkansas
at bedtime. I bet he's memorized every word of the weather section.”

“He's four.”

“I'm convinced he's really an eighty-year-old man,” Wanda said. “You know, like Benjamin Button.”

“Or my crazy sprinkler-dancing, porch-swing-sitting neighbor?”

“Or your neighbor,” Wanda said. “Have you talked to him again since the porch-swing incident?”

“I tried,” Addie replied. “But he pretends like he doesn't know me. I guess he and Jasper have a lot in common.”

“Well, he's not known for being cordial.”

“If it turns out that Bryar is secretly Brad Pitt, I can't guarantee you that I won't make a pass at him.”

“You've got enough man trouble,” Wanda reminded her. “Now, let's get something to eat before Bryar predicts the snowstorm of the century.”

“I found a recipe in my aunt's recipe box that I've been wanting to try ever since we got back from Memphis,” Addie said. “But I'm not exactly sure I can do it.”

“What is it?”

“Hush puppies.”

“Girl, those are easy.”

“Maybe if you've been cooking your whole life,” Addie scoffed. She fiddled with the papers inside the box. She felt silly and incompetent. Everybody down here could cook, it seemed. A pang of envy ran through her body for Wanda's knowledge. What if the way to a man's heart really was through his stomach, as her aunt Tilda always said? What would happen if she gave Jasper Floyd food poisoning? Whatever it was, she figured, it wouldn't be good.

“You want me to show you how to fix them hush puppies?” Wanda interrupted Addie's thoughts. “I promise they're real easy,
but if you're ever going to make them for anybody”—she stopped and stared at Addie as if she were reading her mind—“you'll need a main course. Hush puppies are meant to be a side. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Addie replied, although she really hadn't known. “Everybody knows that.”

A
DDIE WOKE UP
on Sunday to rain. The dull gray of the morning made her want to crawl back under the covers and go back to sleep. She curled herself up around Felix and closed her eyes, relishing the warmth of her bed.

The sound of the phone jarred her out of her cocoon. She sat up and shivered. The phone rang again, and Felix started to bark.

“Calm down, ferocious beast,” Addie whispered. Felix ignored her and jumped down from the bed, barking and wagging his tail simultaneously. The phone continued to ring.

She felt around on the nightstand, her eyes still adjusting to the odd light of the room. “Hello?”

“Addie? Is that you? I've been calling you for an hour. I thought you were dead.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Why didn't you answer your phone?”

“I guess I didn't hear it.”

“Jerry said he heard on the news that Arkansas is getting slammed by tornadoes.”

“That's the rumor.”

“What's it doing now?”

“Raining.”

“You need to go to the store and get some provisions.”

“Provisions?” Addie asked. “It's a potential tornado. That's all.”

“You're not in Chicago anymore,” her mother warned. “You can't just walk to the store down there. It's a rural community. Besides, didn't a tornado take out your kitchen window?”

Addie flopped back down on her bed and rubbed her forehead. “I could get ‘provisions' if I needed them, Mom. Civilization doesn't end outside of Chicago. It's not like
Little House on the Prairie
down here.”

“You could just walk to the store if you needed to? You wouldn't have to get in that tiny car of yours and drive? Is that what you're telling me?”

“That's what I'm telling you,” she said, although Addie knew that wasn't entirely accurate. The nearest store was more like two miles instead of two blocks. “And guess what? We also have indoor plumbing!”

“You've really become quite sarcastic. I'm just trying to help.”

“I'm not trying to give you a hard time. I'm just tired, I guess.”

“Please go to the store and get a few things,” her mother urged. “Just in case you lose power.”

“Fine,” Addie grumbled. “I'll get up and get dressed and go. Okay?”

“You're still in bed? It's almost noon!”

“Bye, Mom,” Addie said. She slid off the bed and wandered over to the window, pulling back the curtains.

Augustus Smoot was outside. Addie worried that he'd be stuck in his house during the storm without anything to eat or drink. Or worse—without any underwear.

Maybe she should just go over and check on him.

He was sitting on the porch when Addie and Felix started across the lawn. He didn't look up from the newspaper he was
reading, but as Addie neared the steps he said, “Don't bring that dog up here.”

“He isn't going to hurt you. He's a good boy.”

“Dogs that look like that are dangerous.”

“This dog's not dangerous.”

“Leave him just the same.”

Addie sighed and said, “Sit, Felix. Stay.”

The man folded his newspaper and stared down at Addie. “He listens well.”

“He's a good boy.”

“He barks a lot.”

“You told me so already.”

“You sound like a Yankee.”

“I'm from Chicago.”

“I'm Augustus Smoot.”

“I know,” Addie replied. “Remember, we had a talk on my porch swing?”

“No.”

Addie sighed. So he was crazy after all. “Have you heard that we're supposed to get some bad weather tonight?”

“I have indeed.”

All she really wanted to know was if he was going to keep himself inside or if she was going to come home from the store to find him blown into her yard like a half-naked lawn ornament. “I'm going to the grocery store. Is there anything I can bring you just in case the weather turns ugly?”

“Magdalene will be along shortly,” he said. “She'll bring provisions.”

There was that word again,
provisions.
“Okay, then.” Addie wondered if Magdalene was the woman who'd shown up at his
house the morning of the storm to coax him inside—the lady with the nurse's shoes. She'd seen the same yellow Neon parked outside of the house before. Maybe she was his girlfriend.

Augustus didn't seem to notice or care when Addie turned around and walked back across the street to her house with Felix on her heels. She glanced around the kitchen, making a mental grocery list. Felix probably needed more food. And she supposed she ought to buy some staples like milk and bread, just in case. Her new wine rack, made from the last of the barn wood and the horseshoes, was almost empty. Now, that was a staple she couldn't do without.