Approaching Menace (23 page)

“This is how I dressed whenever I left the store. I’ve been fishing oysters for quite some time, and now I can do it every day.”

“You fished?”

Her former boss nodded. “I know you often wondered where I was going.”

She’d also wondered what often caused that unpleasant smell on him.

“Did you find another job, Josie?” Hal Ripley stood directly in front of her and lifted his dark glasses. A strange glint was in his eyes, making uneasiness speed through Josie.

A puttering began. On the Allen lawn, a burly man sat on a riding mower.

“Yes, I did,” Josie said, “and I need to change clothes and get back there.” She felt her hair clumped against her scalp. Ripley’s gaze at the front of her dress made her remember it clung.

“I had a little accident.” She crossed her arms over her breasts.

His eyes gleamed as he smirked. “Then I’ll let you go.” He didn’t move. “Did you need any oysters, Josie? I usually sell them to retailers. But you’re special.”

“Not today, thanks.”

“All right then.”

“Nice seeing you, Mr. Ripley.” Josie turned and strode to the patio. She stopped, realizing she hadn’t heard his truck start.

She returned to the end of the house. He was still standing in the driveway. “If you need any, Josie, anytime. You’ll get special delivery.”

“Thank you.”

Ripley walked to his truck watching the big man across the way cutting grass.

Josie thought of something. “Mr. Ripley, how did you know where I live?”

He clutched his door handle. His back was to her. He appeared to be frozen.

Josie expected him to say he’d recognized her car, but instead he uttered, no longer with assuredness, “It was on your job application, you know.”

That was so long ago, she recalled. Strange that he’d remember.

She waved, watching him back away, and considered how unusual it was to learn this person who’d worn nothing but suits had done this job on the side. She wondered what was going on between him and Cora. Actually, she didn’t know much about their personal lives. And she didn’t need to know.

She strode to the back door.

Something was taped there. A full sheet of unlined paper. Taking it down, she saw someone had used black ink to print I’LL BE WITH YOU SOON.

She turned the paper over. No letterhead. No scribbles. Studying the large letters, she saw them start to move and realized she was shaking. Josie steadied her hand to unlock the door and bolted inside.

Chapter 16

“Andrew, it just said ‘I’ll be with you soon.’” Josie held the phone clamped on her shoulder with the side of her head. While she spoke, she tugged off soaked shoes.

“Was your name on it?”

Her arms grew still. “There wasn’t any name.” She sat on the edge of her bed while calmer thoughts came. “Do you think somebody could have left it for Sylvie?”

“Did she ever mention a man besides your father?”

“No. She hasn’t even mentioned him in a while.” Her tenseness left. She smiled at this new idea.

“Maybe there’s some other guy in the picture, and she doesn’t want to tell you yet.”

“Do you think there could be?”

“She is an attractive woman.”

Josie loved the idea. A new man in her mother’s life might be exactly what she needed. “If she is seeing someone, I hope she’ll tell us about it soon.” She told Andrew she’d had a strange morning. She would give him details later but needed to change and get back to work.

His cheer brightened her mood. “I’m glad you called,” he said. “It’s great hearing your voice so early in the day.”

Josie peeled off her clothes, used a blow drier on her hair, and tossed her stockings in a trashcan. Her knees still stung, but she left them alone. She wished she had time to shower again but she would be late enough getting back to the store.

A pinch of sunlight sprinkled through cloud streaks while she drove back. Her same space was open, so she parked in front of a black truck, realizing her former boss hadn’t asked where she currently worked. Maybe he also knew that. She had left the note from the backdoor on the kitchen table, supposing Sylvie would know what it meant and who wrote it.

Grateful to find Eve and Mrs. Banto busy with customers and both of her bosses distracted in their offices, Josie got right to work on Tabatha’s gown. She rushed to overcompensate for the time she’d lost and soon found she was sewing two layers of fabric together.

Making herself slow down, she ripped the few hand stitches that held the skirts together, being careful not to pull the material. Afterward she laid one skirt to the side while she worked on the other one.

“All dry?” Randall Allen startled her, making her almost miss a stitch.

She felt her face redden. “I hope I’ll stay that way.”

“Did my wife give you the number of my friend who wanted to make a donation?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll pick it up this evening.”

His eyebrows creased. “You need to be careful alone after dark now.”

Through the edge of her eye, Josie spied Otis Babineaux in the main showroom staring at them. When Josie met his gaze, he moved toward the front of the shop. “I will,” she said, quieting her uneasiness. Too much tension today, she decided, refusing to entertain fearful reactions any longer.

Jingling from the front door drew her boss away. “Thank you for coming,” Mr. Allen said in the showroom. “We hope you’ll come back again.”

Eve Walker appeared at the corner of the cubbyhole and, with a finger, called Josie.

Curious, she went to see what her co-worker wanted.

She could see Gloria Banto replacing wedding gowns the recent customer had tried on. Mr. Allen had gone to his office and sat at his desk, working with papers. In the office beside his, Otis Babineaux was doing the same.

“I just learned something about him,” Eve said in a quiet voice, nodding toward Babineaux. “His wife is always soaking up the bottle.”

“The bottle?”

Eve made a motion of downing a drink. “Inhales it, that’s what she does with liquor.” The elder woman’s face tightened with sadness. “My mother was like that.”

Josie glanced at Otis Babineaux, stroking his beard and poring through papers, with newfound respect. He had family problems, just like she did. No wonder he seemed strange and moody.

When the store closed, she made certain to face him squarely. In a loud voice, she said, “I hope you have a nice evening, Mr. Babineaux.”

He lifted his chin and gazed at her from the bottom section of his eyeglasses.

New satisfaction held Josie while she drove home. She had made a first move, a slight cheerful statement to begin to make amends for what she had thought of her boss. She would continue more efforts to make his days brighter, at least while he was at work.

She grinned when she saw her mother’s car in the garage. Surely her mother had seen the note on the table. Would she now mention a man in her life?

And if her mother did settle down with someone, Josie might foresee a brighter future with Andrew for herself.

“Hi,” she told Sylvie, who busily set the table.

“Hi back.” Sylvie glanced at Josie’s smile. “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

Josie noticed something different. “When did you get those?” She indicated the green circles on her mother’s earlobes.

Sylvie covered her ears. “They weren’t much. I just caught a little sale. And then I had my discount.”

Josie’s breath caught. “A little sale? On emeralds?”

“Oh really, Josie.” Sylvie scurried to the refrigerator. “I don’t know why I have to clear every little purchase with you.”

A trapped feeling overwhelmed Josie. How could she get her lone parent to realize they needed to conserve money? What were they supposed to do when a call came? Say, “Sorry, Doc, we can’t afford a transplant right now. Call us again when the next one’s available. Maybe by then we’ll have saved a little. Mom needed extra jewels.”

The refrigerator door slammed but Sylvie hadn’t taken anything out. She grabbed a crystal bottle of vinegar and slapped it down on the table. “I swear, Josie, you make everything so dramatic.” She planted her fists on the silk fabric coating her hips. “As if one little pair of earrings would break us.”

Josie stared at the woman who seemed to have lost all reasoning some time during the last months. With a sense of mourning, Josie drifted away to the den.

Colin slept. His face rested toward Fred, whose tubes suctioned dark liquid. Without waking, the child emitted small groans. His legs sprawled in separate directions, resembling cooked noodles.

Sylvie had hooked him up this time. That was a good sign.

His right hand came up and touched his opposite arm. Josie was ready to stop him from pushing against the shunt, but as soon as his fingers touched there, Colin’s eyes opened. His hand slipped away. His eyelids widened and his eyes appeared glazed. He saw Josie beside him and, without any expression, again shut his eyes. Breathing hard, he grumbled while he sank deeper into sleep.

Josie checked his pressure. Too high. She adjusted knobs to pump more fluid off faster and then grabbed the phone in her bedroom. She told the receptionist she needed Dr. Hagger.

He was out on an emergency.

“I have one, too. Colin’s gotten worse!”

“Yes, we know. But his name has been put on the list.”

“Can’t we get his name higher on that list?”

Josie knew the answer without hearing the reply, but the lady used words she’d obviously repeated many times.

“Yes, I will try to be patient,” Josie said. She snapped down the receiver, muttered an oath, and wondered what she’d expected. Because the name
Colin Aspen
had finally been typed on that list, did it mean someone would immediately die to give him new life?

Anger piled on top of her frustration. Why couldn’t she or her mother be a match for him? Why would someone now have to expire for her brother to be able to survive?

And why had Colin’s favorite television station begun airing pictures of people who were waiting for various organs and saying that while waiting, many of them would die?

Crossing the den to get the remote from Colin’s chair and turn off the TV, Josie saw a newscast begin. The meteorologist said a shifting high-pressure system was sending Hurricane Charmaine, whose winds had weakened, down toward Mexico.

Something positive there, she decided She said a prayer for the people who lived in that area and a thank-you prayer for herself and her family. Only two months remained before hurricane season would be over.

Colin’s pressure looked better. He was deep in slumber and didn’t move when Josie checked it again. Going to the kitchen, she expected Sylvie to be fixing his plate.

Their mother leaned against the polished refrigerator, her fingers gingerly tracing her neckline. She stopped when Josie entered. Their gazes locked.

Sylvie’s hand fell away and Josie saw what she’d stroked. A new gold chain holding a new large emerald pendant.

Sylvie shrank back as Josie stormed through the room and out the back door.

She sped to the mall, where she strode into a store she had never frequented. “I want that,” she told a salesclerk wearing an expensive ankle-length dress.

“A nice choice. You can’t go wrong with this fine leather bag.” The woman rang up the sale and when she gave the total Josie stopped from wincing and presented her seldom-used credit card. She accepted the package feeling no pleasure.

People in shorts and some in Sunday clothes wove through the mall’s central corridor. Josie glanced at stores alien to her and headed two doors down to a jewelry shop that gave the most competition to Your Jewelry Place, where Sylvie worked.

“That looks good,” she said when she reached a display case.

A gentleman in a pinstripe suit smiled. “That piece is lovely.” He used a key to retrieve the item she indicated. “Diamonds are always a good choice.”

He lifted the bracelet as though it might break if someone touched it. “Would you like to try it on and see how it looks on you?”

“It’ll be fine. Ring it up.”

Her credit card took care of the purchase, and she signed the receipt without thinking of flinching. Her feet led her to one shop after another that she’d never visited. Without consideration, she made selections in every one.

She brought her purchases to Andrew’s apartment and dumped them out on the sofa. “Look. I shopped.”

He surveyed the items. “So you did like her.” He looked at Josie with sad eyes. “Feel better now?”

She peered at her pile of things. They made her feel worse than before. Josie sat and leaned her head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I’ll bring them all back tomorrow.”

* * *

Sylvie seemed to breathe easier during the next days whenever Josie left any room they might be in at the same time. When Josie cooked, her mother busied herself elsewhere in the house, and when Sylvie fixed a meal, Josie stayed at her sewing machine. Work was piling up with an entire bridal party needing dresses altered, so she brought some of the work home.

Both her bosses told her whatever she could accomplish at the store was enough. No one could ask more of her, Mr. Allen said. No seamstress had gotten work out so fast or with such praise from customers.

But Josie wanted to work. She needed to keep busy. Reflecting while her hands worked needle and thread through the peach nub weave of a bridesmaid dress, she thought Colin had been aloof from her these last days. Maybe she’d done something to upset him.

Dismissing the thought, she knew she hadn’t. He’d seemed to grow closer to Sylvie during their time together on the sofa a few nights earlier. It was one of the few unique moments they’d shared since Josie moved here. Maybe that experience started a special bonding, which was building. Besides that, Sylvie had taken him to a movie. At least that was a start for them.

If only Sylvie gave him that consideration all of the time, Colin would be a happy child. Surely he’d want his mother’s attention much more than his sister’s.

Am I jealous?

No, she determined, feeling the tip of her needle press her finger and moving her hand away before drawing blood. That’s how it should be. Colin surely wanted real parents. So did Josie.