Homesick Creek (5 page)

Anita hauled the seat belt across her lap, flipped the wipers on high, and turned the car toward Sawyer, cursing Danny for the millionth time. He’d been trouble from the minute Doreen had started going with him five years ago, but try telling that to the girl. When she got pregnant at sixteen, they got married for Crystal’s sake, but you could tell it was never going to work out between them. Then last year he’d gotten in trouble for stealing tools from a body shop over in Sawyer where he’d worked for a couple of months. He said he’d been given permission to take them home for a night or two to work on his old Mustang, but the owner testified in court that that was garbage. Danny had been sentenced to two years’ probation. If he really was involved in this latest thing, he could just hang, as far as Anita was concerned. She’d move Doreen and Crystal home with her and Bob if she had to. She’d figure something out. She always did.

Anita drove over the cape, fighting every gust of wind. Dooley’s car was nice, though, even if it was small. It had been a long time since she’d driven such a new car. Bunny had a good car, of course, a nice midnight blue Thunderbird with a white landau roof. When they did things together, they never went in Anita’s car. In her next life Anita was going to have a new-model car every two years like clockwork and park it outside her new double-wide, just see if she didn’t.

At Doreen’s apartment Anita pulled into the parking space next to Doreen’s car. The asshole manager would probably give Anita hell again for taking up someone else’s designated parking place, but that was just tough shit. She was tugging her purse out after her when Doreen opened the door. Her eyes were bloody-looking and puffy from crying, but her makeup was fresh, her mascara as thick and black as iron filings. Her hair was all poufed up too and pulled back into a ponytail. She’d always had thin hair like Anita. The back-combing wasn’t fooling anybody.

“How come you’re driving Dooley’s car?”

“Daddy’s got ours.” Anita pulled the apartment door closed behind her. The place was spotless at least. Doreen was a good housekeeper. Crystal came dashing over in footie pajamas and plowed into Anita’s legs. Anita swung her up and gave her a big kiss. The girl giggled and wrapped her legs around Anita’s hips, put her arms around her neck.

“Hi, sweetie,” Anita said. “You glad to see Grammy?”

“Uh-huh,” the girl said around a big wad of bubble gum.

“She shouldn’t be chewing gum,” Anita said. Crystal already had four steel teeth because Doreen used to put her to bed with a bottle of juice every night.

“Don’t start with me,” Doreen said.

Anita sighed and gave Crystal a loud, smoochy kiss and let her down. “How about you go and get Mister Bear? Gram’s going to take you home for a visit.”

Crystal skipped off, looking for her ratty teddy bear. Doreen shuffled a paper shopping bag full of Crystal’s clothes across the floor toward Anita.

“Did you call the police station?”

“Yeah,” Doreen said. “They told me I had to come down there in person. I’ve been getting ready.”

Usually Doreen didn’t get dressed until late afternoon anymore. Sometimes she didn’t get dressed at all. Whenever Anita brought it up, Doreen just said what difference did it make when no one looked at her anymore anyway. Anita had to admit she had a point, but it wasn’t healthy all the same.

“Do you want me to come down there with you?” Anita asked.

“No. I called Teresa, and she said she’d go.” Teresa was Doreen’s best friend. She was three months pregnant with her second baby.

“How’s she feeling?”

“Like hell. You should see her, she’s already gained fifteen pounds,” Doreen said with satisfaction.

Crystal came back dragging Mister Bear, a filthy teddy bear with a bow tie, checked vest, big feet, and one eye. For the last four months she had refused to go anywhere without him.

Anita picked up the shopping bag with Crystal’s clothes. Crystal struggled into her pink plastic Barbie raincoat. Anita reached down to do up the zipper, but Crystal pushed her hands away.

“I can do it,” she said, and with infinite care zipped up the zipper all by herself.

“Well, I’ll be,” Anita said. “When did you learn to do that, hon?”

Crystal slipped a sticky hand into Anita’s hand. Anita turned to Doreen and said, “Call me when you know something.” She gave her daughter a strong one-armed hug. “Love you, baby.”

“Yeah, you too,” said Doreen.

Anita buckled Crystal into the passenger seat, working around Mister Bear, and piloted Dooley’s little car back onto Highway 101, feeling the gift of a tailwind for the first time all day.

“You okay, honey?” she asked, reaching over and patting Crystal’s leg.

“Yes,” Crystal said gravely. Anita wondered how much she understood of what went on around her. More than any of them gave her credit for, probably. Doreen didn’t watch her mouth around Crystal enough, and neither did Danny; the child was growing up in the cracks and margins of the lives of other people who were needier than she was. It shouldn’t be like that. In Anita’s opinion, it took a certain amount of joy to raise a child right, just the same as it took vitamins and milk and warm clothes and kindness. Anita and Bob had had that once, when Doreen and Patrick were little and it looked like Bob was going to make something of himself in auto mechanics, maybe even have a shop of his own one day. Doreen and Danny had never generated joy in any amount, from what Anita could see.

“What did you do today, honey?” Anita asked Crystal, preferring to fill the car with talk rather than with bitter thoughts.

“We watched TV. ”

“
Sesame Street
?”

“The Home Shopping Channel.”

Anita glanced over. Crystal continued to gaze out the window solemnly, looking tiny even in the Subaru’s small bucket seat. Anita probably should have gotten Crystal’s booster seat from Doreen, but she hadn’t thought of it. “Did Mommy buy anything?”

“She wanted to, but her car was rejected.”

“What?”

“Mommy said her fucking credit car was rejected.”

“Oh.”

“She cried,” Crystal said.

“Aw, honey.” Anita found her hand and squeezed it. “It was a sad day at home today, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’ll just have to let Grammy read you some stories and maybe you can color a nice new picture for us to put on the refrigerator door.”

“Will Daddy come home soon?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. We’ll just have to wait and see. Mommy’s going to find out.”

“Yes.” Crystal nodded. She knew about waiting. She’d spent a lot of her young life waiting in the Adult and Family Services office for shots, waiting for Danny or Doreen or someone to come get her at Head Start over in Sawyer; waiting for someone to notice that none of her clothes fit; waiting for someone to give her steel teeth. What kind of life was that?

“Will Granddad be there?” Crystal asked.

“I don’t know. He could be.”

“Okay.”

They drove the rest of the way home in silence as Anita tried to think of how to get her hands on enough money to buy cookies or ice cream. The child certainly deserved it, after the day she’d had. Anita couldn’t ask Bunny for help again, not so soon; Bunny had treated them to lunch at the Anchor just last week, and when Anita got home, she’d found twenty dollars stuffed into her purse. Bob didn’t get paid for another week, and old Marv Vernon made it very clear he didn’t give pay advances.

She steered Dooley’s little car into the Wayside’s parking lot. Their Caprice was still there, but with luck Roy had cut Bob off or he’d run out of whatever money he’d scrounged and was already home. She helped Crystal out of the car and brought her inside.

“C’mon now, Anita, you know I can’t let you bring a kid in here,” Roy said with embarrassment. He knew how things were with them.

“Is Bob gone?” Anita retreated to the open door, as though their being on the threshold would do Roy any good if an Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agent came by.

“Yeah. Hack took him home.” Roy held out the Caprice’s car keys.

“How bad was he?” Anita asked, taking them.

Roy shrugged. “He was walking.”

“He didn’t leave any money behind by any chance?”

“No. I’m sorry, Anita.”

Anita shrugged, trying to look like it didn’t make a difference. Roy knew it made a difference, but she had her pride. “That’s okay. Would you give these to Dooley?” She handed the Subaru keys to Roy. Dooley was nowhere in sight, but Anita figured he was there someplace; his habit of spending huge amounts of time on the toilet working his crosstiks was legendary.

“Sure thing,” Roy said. “You be careful out there.”

She led Crystal over to the Caprice. It looked like there wasn’t going to be any ice cream this evening. Anita would figure some way to make it up to the child. If they were lucky, Bob would already be passed out in the bedroom, sleeping it off. Anita reached over to fasten Crystal’s seat belt, bowled over by the smell of mildew. The fucking car leaked like a sieve, and the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was pure wishful thinking.

Anita drove up Chollum Road, past Bunny and Hack’s house, past Adams Street and Washington Street, then turned left into the spotty gravel and deep potholes that passed for Franklin Court. In their side yard she yanked on the emergency brake with all her strength. Two days ago the car had slipped out of park for no reason while she was under the carport hanging out laundry. The Caprice had rolled halfway down to the corner before she could catch it and haul up on the hand brake. It might be a piece of junk, but they sure as hell couldn’t afford another one if something happened to it. Bob was supposed to take a look at the transmission, but there was an excellent chance hell would freeze over before he got to it—that or pigs would fly. For some reason the thought made Anita smile. She must be getting punchy.

Anita hurried Crystal to the kitchen door, and when she opened it, a gust nearly blew it off its hinges. Anita yanked the door closed as fast as she could, but the floor was scattered with pine needles she’d clean up later. A needlepoint sampler hung on the kitchen’s far wall, GOD WATCH OVER THIS HOUSE AND ALL WHO LIVE WITHIN. It was a wedding gift from Anita’s grandmother. Privately Anita had her doubts about whether the Lord was keeping up His end, but she wasn’t about to voice them; they had problems enough as it was. Her mother used to tell her,
If you don’t see the Lord’s handiwork in everything around you, for heaven’s
sake keep it to yourself
.

But maybe there was something to it after all, because there were four overflowing grocery bags sitting on the kitchen table. Bunny or Hack had been here. Anita’s eyes teared up, and she reached blindly to help Crystal take off her raincoat so she wouldn’t break down right there in her own kitchen.

“I can do it, Grammy,” the child said. She removed her coat with the greatest care and handed it to Anita to hang on the peg by the door.

Anita cleared her throat and said, “Look, honey, I think the Food Fairy’s been here.”

Crystal clapped her hands and helped Anita unpack two roasts, potatoes, carrots, celery, apples, oranges, Saltines, coffee and coffee filters, Oreos, pudding mix, rice, Potato Buds, milk, Campbell’s soups, hot dogs and hot dog buns, Life cereal, oatmeal, raisins, brown sugar, Kraft dinner, margarine, a dot-to-dot book, a Cinderella coloring book, a fresh package of crayons, and—here Anita broke down entirely and wept—a carton of Marlboro lights.

Crystal stood beside her, patting her hand over and over. “It’s okay, Grammy,” she said gravely.

“How did you know?” Anita said when Bunny answered the phone.

“Dooley talks.”

Anita clutched the receiver between her shoulder and chin, setting a plate of Oreos and a glass of milk on the table for Crystal. “I’ll pay you back,” she said.

“Sure,” Bunny said, as though Anita ever had. “So is Doreen okay?”

Anita lit a Marlboro and inhaled deeply with closed eyes, as discerning as a connoisseur of fine wines. God, but she’d always loved Marlboros. She let the smoke leak out her nose. “Danny got arrested again,” she said.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“For what?”

“Drugs. Meth lab. Apparently he’s been helping a buddy do some cooking.”

“She ought to just get out before he involves her.”

“I know, but try telling her that,” Anita said.

“Did you bring Crystal back?”

“Uh-huh. She’s right here, eating the cookies and milk the food fairy brought us.”

“Is she okay?”

Anita shrugged, as though Bunny could see her. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“You opening up again tomorrow morning?”

“No,” Bunny said. “Beth Ann’s better.”

“Thank God for small mercies,” they both said in unison.

“All right,” Bunny said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Love you, honey.”

“You too.”

After Anita had hung up, Crystal said, “Is Granddad here?”

“Can’t you hear him snoring?” Anita said. “Holy cow.”

Crystal giggled. “He’s loud.”

“Yeah, he’s loud. Sometimes it makes the walls shake.”

Crystal looked at the walls in alarm.

“Gram’s just pulling your leg.”

Crystal looked at her leg.

“It’s just an expression, sweetie.” Anita sighed. “It means Grammy’s just teasing you.” Didn’t Doreen ever talk to the child?

“Oh.” Crystal wiped her hands on her shirt. Anita let it go. Crystal had had enough to deal with today, plus the shirt was a rag anyway; it looked like it had belonged to six other kids before it came to Crystal. Doreen would never wear secondhand clothes herself. Her things all came from Wal-Mart, fresh off the rack and in the latest style. She’d always been like that, too good to wear other people’s things. She was appalled that Anita got most of her things from the thrift shops. Anita didn’t know where she got such a high horse.

She took three cookies from the bag, dunked them in Crystal’s milk, and savored the taste, her head blissfully empty of thoughts for the first time all day, even thoughts about Doreen and Danny. A kitchen full of food could do that. She smiled at Crystal. “Good?” she said.