A Week From Sunday (6 page)

“Tell that prissy woman that ran into me that I’ll be by when I get through with work to take her to the house.”

“You’re not nice, Quinn.”

“Who said I was?”

“Don’t give me any back talk, Quinn Baxter. I’ll box your ears the next time I see you.”

“If you do, I’ll kiss you right on Main Street.”

“You’re all talk, Quinn Baxter. You wouldn’t dare!” Mildred hung up the telephone and turned to Adrianna. “He’ll be by for you later.”

“I’d like to talk to the doctor before I leave.”

“Why don’t you go back to your room and rest for a while? She may not be back for several hours if she has to see about Mrs. Thatcher.”

“I don’t know this Quinn Baxter. I’m not sure I want to go to his house. All of this was decided so fast.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe with Quinn. I’d trust him with my seventeen-year-old daughter, and that’s saying a lot. He sounds gruff, but he’s really a pussycat when you get right down to it. The doctor said you might be able to help Jesse with exercises. If you do that you’ll be Quinn’s friend for life.”

“I’m not sure I can help him.”

“Neither Quinn nor Dr. Bordeaux expect miracles.” When Mildred saw the apprehension on Adrianna’s face, she continued: “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t work out for you to stay there, Dr. Bordeaux will help you find another place.”

“But I’ve got to get a real job.”

“Gabe said something about you playing the piano at the Whipsaw.”

“That’s for the two nights a week they have a sing-along. I’m doing that to pay for the damage I caused when I slid into his truck. After that’s paid for, I’m sure it wouldn’t pay enough for me to live on.”

“The Whipsaw is a rowdy place, but with Gabe and Quinn there, you’ll be all right.”

“Is Quinn at the tavern every night?”

“I don’t know about that, but Gabe runs the place—and by the way, he can make that old piano talk. He plays a ragtime style that sets the feet to tapping and the hands to clapping.”

“They needn’t expect me to do that. I’ve only played for church services, weddings, and funerals.”

“Don’t worry,” Mildred said for the second time.

Adrianna wished people would quit telling her not to worry. None of them knew her circumstances. None of them had a man like Richard Pope trying to run their lives. Even now, her stomach turned at the thought of marrying him. Being his wife meant she would have to sleep with him.
Oh my Lord, I’d almost rather die than do that!
A shudder went through her and she closed her eyes for a moment. Mildred looked at her curiously.

“Are you feeling ill?”

Adrianna opened her eyes. “Oh, no! I was just thinking about something very unpleasant.” She looked down at her wrinkled skirt. Fastidious person that she was, it bothered her to be untidy. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while.”

It was late afternoon, and Adrianna was dozing on her bed when Mildred came to the door of her room. “Quinn’s here. He’s early.”

Adrianna groaned inwardly and got up from the bed. She dreaded facing that big uncouth man again. He made her nervous. She didn’t feel threatened by him as she had by Richard Pope, but he scared her in a way no other man had ever done. She cringed when she heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. The door flew open and Quinn stood before her.

His hair looked as if he had been in a tornado. He had a scowl on his dark face, and his teeth were clenched. She could see the muscles dance in his cheek. He wasn’t liking this.

“Mr. Baxter,” she said, “I don’t like this arrangement any better than you do. As soon as my car is fixed I’ll be on my way and mail you a check for the damages to . . . your supplies.”

“How do I know your check would be any good? Come on, I don’t have all day. Let’s go.”

Chapter 5

A
DRIANNA TRIED TO
keep up with Quinn’s long strides as he led the way down the street. She was fuming because he didn’t trust her to mail a check for what she owed him. The businesses that lined Main Street began to give way to residential houses; most of them were identical to those near the doctor’s office. A couple of blocks from the church, Quinn turned to the north onto a side street.

“You doing all right? It’s not much farther.”

Ahead, a tall row of hedges lined the street. Their branches and small green leaves still glistened from the rain. Tiny flowers had begun to pop from their tight buds and filled the air with a sweet, fresh fragrance. A scattering of petals had been loosened by the rain and lay on the pavement.

They turned up a walk and approached a two-story white home, fronted by a wide porch. Adrianna noticed a pair of bentwood chairs on the porch and a swing at the end. With the sun beginning to set, bright light was reflected off the long, slender windows that lined both stories. A door led out onto a small roof porch. An abundance of shrubs flourished around the porch; a small magnolia tree stood at the end. A patch of yard at the side of the house had been set aside for a vegetable garden, although it was obvious from the tangle of weeds overrunning it that it hadn’t been tended to lately.

As Adrianna walked up the steps and onto the porch she was aware that the house at one time had been splendid, but time and neglect had made it rather shabby. Quinn pushed open the door and walked ahead of her into the house, set her suitcase down, then held open the screen door for her to enter.

“Come in, Annie.” As he looked down at her, his eyes softened for an instant as if he were apprehensive about her being in his home.

Adrianna’s heart thumped. She wasn’t sure if it was this big man who caused it or her fear of the future in this house. She looked around. A tall stairway rose from the entry to the upper floor. To the right of the foyer was a living room; a couch, a library table covered with a tasseled scarf, an upright Victrola and an RCA radio were the only furnishings. Adrianna was dismayed by the clutter and disarray; nearly every surface was buried in papers, magazines, and books. She was trying to come up with a compliment about his home when something caught her eye. Above the couch hung a pair of oval picture frames: a sweet-faced woman with her hair piled on her head and a rather stern-looking man who appeared uncomfortable in a stiff collar, suit, and tie.

The sound of footsteps came from another part of the house, and a woman with a mass of dark hair emerged from a doorway, wiping her hands on an apron. Her face appeared to be freshly made-up: spots of rouge on her cheeks, eyebrows darkened with pencil, and thick mascara on her lashes. Her mouth was a streak of deep red. She smiled brightly at Quinn, the corners of her mouth turning up, but when she saw Adrianna her smile faded.

“Annie,” Quinn said, “this is Lola Oxnard. Lola, this is—”

Lola interrupted: “Is she the one?” Her eyes traveled from the top of Adrianna’s head to the tips of her toes. Her look was one of disapproval, and Adrianna knew immediately that the woman resented her being there.

Adrianna held out her hand. “I’m glad to meet you.”

Lola touched her hand briefly to Adrianna’s. “Ya are?”

“Of course I am,” Adrianna said firmly, determined not to let the woman intimidate her. She was aware of Quinn looking from one to the other. When he spoke, it was to Lola.

“Did you get the room ready?”

“Of course I did,” she said in the same firm voice Adrianna had used, and Adrianna knew she was mocking her.

Quinn picked up the suitcase and headed for the stairway as Adrianna followed.

Lola watched them ascend the stairs. “Bitch,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m not going to let you come in here and spoil things for me. I’ll make you wish you’d never come to Lee’s Point.”

Quinn flung open a door at the top of the stairs and nodded for Adrianna to enter. She was surprised when she entered the large, airy room. The furnishings were old but well cared for. A large, four-poster bed stood against one wall covered with a faded quilt. A rocking chair sat next to the window. A beautifully embroidered scarf hung over the back. The room was clean and not as cluttered as the rest of the house.

“This was my mother’s room,” Quinn explained.

“Are you sure you want me to use it?”

“I’m sure or I wouldn’t have brought you here. My mother spent a lot of time in here during her last days. She was proud of her needlework, and I’m trying to preserve it for Jesse. He isn’t interested in it now, but he might be someday.” Quinn walked over to the dresser and ran his fingers over the embroidered scarf that lay on it. “She liked to make pretty things.” He hushed abruptly, wondering why he was telling her this.

“It’s truly a beautiful piece of work,” Adrianna said, and she meant each word.

“Since she left us,” Quinn said, “I’ve tried to keep the room the way she would. You’ll see the rest of the house is not very well kept. Lola isn’t much of a housekeeper, but she watches over Jesse. I’ve not the time to do much with the rest of the house, but this room is different. I keep the door closed, and Lola knows not to mess it up.”

“How long has your mother been gone?” Adrianna asked hesitantly.

“Five years.” His eyes avoided hers. “Some days it seems like it’s been forever, while on others it seem like it just happened.”

“I understand how you feel. I lost my mother ten years ago and my father a few weeks ago.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“No. I was the only one.” Adrianna’s heart beat loudly in her chest. She stood silently and stared into his gray eyes.

Quinn looked away. “Lola should have supper on the table in a few minutes. Come on down when you’re ready.”

After he left, Adrianna went to the window and looked down at the street.
What in the world am I doing here in the home of this strange man?
There was something about him that made her uneasy. She was sure that Lola, the housekeeper, didn’t like her. She would have to be careful not to step on her toes. Quinn would have to tell her exactly what he wanted her to do to earn her room and board.

She heard voices coming from downstairs and wondered if Quinn Baxter ever talked in a quiet tone. Although his voice was loud, it was not unkind, and she figured he was talking to his younger brother. Well . . . she wouldn’t be here long. She could call the bank and get the money to pay him, but she was sure Richard would find out and come for her. She’d do that as a last resort.

Adrianna ran her comb through her hair and, on sudden impulse, touched her lips with her Tangee lipstick. With a handkerchief, she blotted some of it off thinking about the bright red Lola was wearing. Her estimation of Quinn had slid down a notch after she met the housekeeper; surely he could have hired someone a little bit more refined to keep his house.

Dr. Bordeaux had told her about Jesse’s accident. She tried to imagine how difficult it would be at that age to be unable to go to school with other kids. The doctor said that after the accident, Quinn had taken his brother to doctors in Jackson, Mississippi. They had told them there was nothing they could do for him, but they had given him a schedule of exercises that would help. Dr. Bordeaux said Quinn was busy and the housekeeper had been negligent about seeing that the boy did them.

Adrianna took one last look in the mirror and went down the stairs. As she stood hesitantly, not knowing if she should go to the kitchen or not, Quinn came out into the hall.

“Annie,” he called. “Come meet Jesse.”

“My name’s not Annie,” she retorted as she passed him to enter the room. Her eyes focused on the young man on the bed. He was propped up against the headboard. In her peripheral vision, she saw a chair with large wheels that sat in the corner of the room. Books and magazines were scattered on the floor, along with a dirty plate and glass.

“Jesse,” Quinn said in a quiet voice that Adrianna had never heard him use before. “This is Miss Moore. Her name is Adrianna, but I think we can call her Annie.” He grinned when he saw the frown come over Adrianna’s face. “She’s the one who slid into me on that damn curve at Baker’s Corner. I swear that corner is jinxed.”

Adrianna stepped closer to the bed and held out her hand. “Hello, Jesse. I see you like to read.”

“Yeah. What else can a cripple do?” He ignored her hand.

“Now, Jesse,” Quinn said, but the boy didn’t look at him. He continued to flip the pages of a magazine.

At that moment, Adrianna saw a great sadness hanging over Quinn, as well as a touch of helplessness.
There is far more to this man than what is seen at first glance
.

Lifting a small pile of books off a chair, Quinn moved the chair close to the bed for Adrianna to sit on. He stood at the end of the bed, his eyes on his brother.

“I hear you had a bad day. Lola said you were impossible and rude to her.”

Jesse didn’t answer. After a couple of seconds, Quinn reached out and gently but firmly tugged the magazine from his brother’s hands. Jesse didn’t protest, but he didn’t speak either, choosing instead to fold his arms over his chest.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“No.” Slowly, Jesse raised his head to look directly at Quinn.

In the sparse light, Adrianna got her first good look at Jesse. He was in his mid-teens. His close-cropped black hair was identical in color to his brother’s. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The shirt he wore hung loosely on his small frame. Even though she had only glanced at the boy’s mother’s picture, she could see that Jesse was the spitting image of her.