2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (9 page)

“Oh, Martha Maye. You must have been terrified.” Tess moved to her friend’s side.

“I was. And if I wasn’t hysterical before he hit me, I sure as shooting was afterward. I broke loose and locked myself in the bathroom.” While she’d been talking, she’d absentmindedly broken off little pieces from the muffin. She stared down blankly at what used to be the muffin but was now just a pile of crumbs. Lost in thought, she poked her finger around in the mess.

“Butterbean heard the commotion and came into the bedroom just as I slammed and locked the bathroom door. I don’t know if she’d overheard all of what we said, but she saw Lenny banging on the door and yelling at me to come out. I could hear her screaming and crying, but Lenny was so full of rage he didn’t appear to notice or care. Then I heard a loud bang and a crash, and I was more terrified for Bean than I was for myself.” Martha Maye took a deep breath and let it out.

“I opened the door just as Lenny swept past Bean, who was screaming at the top of her lungs by then. I grabbed her up in my arms and locked us both in the bathroom. Both of us were wailing away, crying and slinging snot. A few minutes later, I heard him start the car and drive away. When I came out of the bathroom, I saw he’d thrown a lamp across the room.”

As if coming out of a trance, when she finished recounting the fight with Lenny, she looked up, giving Tess a weak smile.

“Stuff like that.” She crinkled her nose.

Tess had been quietly listening to the story with one hand on her friend’s arm, but once Martha Maye finished, she wrapped her up in a hug. “Oh, sweetie, how horrible. Why didn’t you leave him then?”

“I guess I was afraid. I talked to my minister about it. Not all of what I just told you, but enough. He prayed with me, told me where some shelters were, told me to always keep my keys by the door in case I needed to leave in a hurry.”

Tess shook her head. “I’m not sure that was the best advice he could have given you.”

“I don’t think he ever would have counseled me to leave my husband, but he tried to make sure I was safe. Reverend James offered to talk to Lenny, but I never told him. If I had, he would have been livid.”

“He would have been mad you talked to your minister?”

“Mad I told the minister about him.”

“And so you stayed.” Tess rubbed her back in slow circles.

“Until this past summer. Until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A few hours later, Martha Maye looked out the store’s big picture window and saw Lenny and Butterbean cross the street, heading for the bookstore. She hurried to the back room, telling Tess as she passed her, “Don’t tell him I’m here.”

“Tell who?” Tess was confused. Then Lenny stepped through the door. “Oh,” she said under her breath.

He wore a New York Mets baseball cap, which he neglected to take off when he came inside. Tess smiled and greeted Butterbean. She looked coldly at Lenny. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Tess, right?”

She nodded.

“I never forget a beautiful woman,” Lenny said, pronouncing it
woe-man
as he always did.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. Pickle appeared out of nowhere and stood next to her.

“Who’re you?” Lenny asked bluntly.

“Pickle Culpepper. Who’re you?” Tess looked at him with amusement, and he added, “Sir.”

“I’m Lenny. We were just looking for my
wife
.”

“We want to take her to lunch,” Butterbean piped up, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Oh. You just missed her. She left to go, uh, to go. . . ” Tess looked at Pickle for help.

“She went to Lou’s for lunch,” Pickle blurted out.

“Oh, that’s right. She went to Lou’s.” Tess nodded, thinking that was a smart choice because Lenny probably wouldn’t want to see Lou. She gave Pickle an appreciative look, then turned to Lenny. “We’ll tell her you stopped in.”

After Lenny and Butterbean left, Pickle said, “He looks like a nice enough fella. Why’d Mizz Martha Maye want to hide from him?”

“People are like corn cobs, Pickle.”

“I like butter-pops.” He rocked from his toes to his heels.

“Yes, well, picture them still in their husks.”

“Okay …”

“You never can tell which ones might be bad on the inside.”

Martha Maye wasn’t able to hide from Lenny for the entire day. When she left the store later that afternoon, she saw him and Butterbean waiting for her on a bench in the shade. Butterbean ran up to her and handed her a small bunch of orange and yellow flowers. “These are from Daddy. I was just holding them for you. They’re, they’re called Chrysanthemumums.”

“Chrysan-the-mums,” Martha Maye enunciated. “And they’re lovely. Thank you.”

“Come on, Martha Maye.” Lenny took her elbow. “Come check out the ride I have today. It’s a 1987 Mercedes 420 SEL.”

He led her over to a long silver Mercedes and opened the door for her.

“Where’d you get this, Len?” Martha Maye ran her hand over the leather interior as she got into the car.

“Big Darryl D says I can take my pick any time, and I picked this one today. Tomorrow it’ll be something different. Maybe a 1998 Lexus.”

Before Martha Maye knew what was happening, Lenny had backed out of the parking space and was headed out of town on a country road. He took them for an hour-long ride, and they stopped for dinner at Dough Boy, a pizza place Butterbean picked out. The sun was setting when he pulled into their driveway. Lenny had been on good behavior, and their outing had been pleasant.

“Thank you, Lenny. That was lovely.”

Butterbean yawned. “Can Daddy come in and tuck me in bed?”

Butterbean’s big dark brown eyes were persuasive, and her mother gave in.

On the way into the house, Martha Maye saw her next-door neighbor Estherlene Bumgarner on her front lawn. She told Lenny and Butterbean she’d be in after she spoke to her neighbor.

“Put the flowers in some water for me, Bean.”

“Okay, Mama.”

“Evening, Estherlene.” Martha Maye walked up to her neighbor, who was watering some marigolds. The first thing one noticed about the older woman was her big hair. “Your flowers sure are pretty, and you’re looking awful pretty tonight, too.” Martha Maye was being a little kind. A petite woman with a slender figure, Estherlene looked to be in her sixties although she was in fact seventy-four. Despite her sizable ears and the ravages of time, she was still somewhat attractive for a woman of that age, even though she overcompensated with too much makeup and hairspray.

“Hidee and thank yew, Martha Maye. Hireyew?”

“Oh, I’m all right, I s’pose.”

“That don’t sound very convincing. Who’s that you got with you over there in that highfalutin car?”

“Oh, that’s my husband. My ex-husband. My husband.” Martha Maye winced a little, crossing and uncrossing her arms several times as she talked. She didn’t know how to categorize Lenny.

“So, which one?”

“Which one what?”

“Is he your husband or your ex-husband?” Estherlene used her wrist, since her hands were wet, to scratch her nose.

“Oh. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know, Estherlene. I guess he’s my husband since we’re still legally married, but we’re separated, so he feels like an ex.”

“Zat right? I seen him driving by here a bunch, but he wasn’t in that there car. Matter fact, I seen him in a bunch a different cars.”

“You have? Heavens to Betsy. I wonder why. He works at Car Country, and his boss lets him drive any car that’s available. That one’s just the car of the day. Have you really seen him driving past the house?”

“Sure. I sit in the chair by that window and watch my stories.” She pointed with the hose to the bay window on the front of her house, spraying the glass. “I see purty near everything happens on the street. Wouldn’t forget a face like his. He’s a hunk, Martha Maye. You sure you wanna give him up?”

“Oh, he’s a hunk of . . . something all right,” Martha Maye huffed. “And it ain’t a hunk a hunk a burning love,” she said under her breath.

“It wouldn’t hurt him to stop by the gym every once in a while and work off some of that beer belly, but he could read me a bedtime story any day of the week.”

“Estherlene! You’re a married woman!”

“Married, yeah, but not dead. I can still window-shop.”

“Believe you me, window-shop is about all you want to do with Lenny.”

“Oh, honey, he’s a man. I tell you, if they got tires and testicles, they’s gonna be trouble. Count on it. But you gotta put up with the bad in order to have the good.”

“What if all you do is put up with the bad?” Martha Maye asked, looking up at the light in the dormer window—Butterbean’s room.

“Oh. Well, in that case, sugar, dump him like a hot tater. Let him be some other woman’s problem.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Night, Estherlene.”

When Martha Maye went into the house, she found that Lenny had made himself at home. He had a beer in his hand and sat with his feet on the coffee table watching
The World’s Dumbest Criminals
on TV.

“Big idiot,” Martha Maye muttered.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“I said, that’s appropriate,” she hedged.

“Come over here and sit by me, precious.” He patted the seat cushion next to him. Reluctantly, she did so, sitting sideways with one leg under her.

“Lenny, have you been driving by my house checking up on me?”

Lenny’s face froze for a minute. He started to take his feet off the table, then sat back again, trying to act confused. He took a swig of beer.

“Checking up on you?” he finally said, a little too high-pitched.

“Uh-huh. Have you? Don’t lie to me, Len. I already know the answer.”

“Well then, Mart, why’d you ask?” She gave him a look, and he said, “It’s not what it sounds like.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m just worried about you and Carrie, and sometimes I drive by to make sure everything’s copacedrin.” He sat back, pleased with himself for spouting off such a big word. Martha Maye rolled her eyes.

“You mean copacetic?”

His face dropped. “Whatever. The point is, I’m just trying to watch out for y’all. You should be happy to have somebody care for you like I do.”

Martha Maye sat for a few minutes, watching the show with him but not seeing or hearing it. When she thought she’d spontaneously combust if she sat there one more second, she got up and headed for the stairs.

“Where you going, doll?”

“To tell Bean goodnight,” she said over her shoulder.

She hated reality TV, and she resented Lenny making himself at home when she’d only invited him in to tuck in their daughter. And she resented him checking up on her.

But as she climbed the stairs, she began to feel bad about her attitude.
Why am I being such a witch
, she thought.
He’s been nothing but nice to me since he got to town. So what if he wants to watch a stupid TV show.

Butterbean was on her bed playing with her dolls when Martha Maye walked into her room. She scurried to get under the covers.

“I thought you were sleepy.” Martha Maye stood next to the bed, hands on her hips, looking down at her daughter.

“Well, not really. I just wanted Daddy to come in. We had a real fun day. I like being with him, Mama. Do you?”

Martha Maye reached under the covers, took Barbie out of Butterbean’s hands, and then put her in the basket by the bed. She lay down on her side next to Butterbean, so they could look each other in the eye.

“Do you, Mama? Do you like Daddy?”