Morning Glory Circle (31 page)

“I think you’re so tired you’re babbling. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“That’s just like a five,” she said, as her eyes closed. “You observe and judge, but you don’t want to feel anything.”

“Just rest now,” he said. “You aren’t making any sense.”

“Maybe Mercury is retrograde,” he thought she said, but he could hardly hear her.

Drew turned off the lights and covered her with a blanket.

“Sweet dreams, Caroline,” he said.

“Namaste,” she said, and within minutes she was snoring.

Hannah was not crying when Maggie arrived at the farm, but she was still very upset.

“Tell me what happened,” Maggie insisted, coaxing her to sit down at the kitchen table. “Can I fix you something to eat or drink?”

“I’m not hungry,” Hannah said, miserably.

Maggie knew it was bad if Hannah couldn’t eat her way through it.

Hannah told her what had been going on, and gave her a blow-by-blow account of all the fights, leading up to Sam’s strangely calm exit this evening.

“Isn’t it possible it was work related?”

“I guess,” Hannah sniffed. “Although the timing is way too convenient.”

“Maybe taking a break isn’t such a bad idea. You two weren’t resolving anything together, so maybe some time apart would be a good thing.”

“I’m glad he’s gone, in a way,” Hannah said. “It just makes me so mad that he doesn’t have the will to stay here and fight this out with me.”

“He’s probably had enough fighting for one lifetime,” Maggie said.

“He’s never going to get better,” Hannah said. “He worked hard with his counselor for a long time, and got to the point where he seems recovered, but he is never going to be like I want him to be. I just have to quit wanting too much.”

“Didn’t you know all this when you married him?”

“That’s not fair, Maggie. I was in love with him. Love’s blind.”

“And balding,” Maggie said.

“And gets migraines,” Hannah said, smiling.

“And can’t dance,” Maggie said.

“I just want, when something bad happens to me, to know I can call him, and he’ll be there for me,” Hannah said. “He doesn’t have to be able to run to me on two legs, and physically protect me. I just want him to be strong for me, emotionally, and let it be about me, and what I’m feeling.”

“And you told him that.”

“Twenty times at least. He can’t get past blaming himself and then pushing me away.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for myself and sorry for him. Hell, I’m sorry for everyone tonight.”

“Are you sure you couldn’t eat something?”

“Maybe a little something,” Hannah said. “I think there’s some cake left in that tin over there.”

Maggie fixed Hannah a generous slice of cake and a glass of ice cold milk.

“What were you doing when I called?” Hannah asked her.

“Nothing important,” Maggie said.

Ava had introduced Charlotte and Timmy to the new baby when they got home from school, and they were both entranced. She told them that he was lost, and they were going to keep him until they figured out what happened to his parents.

“He looks just like you, Timmy,” Charlotte said.

“What’s his name, Mommy?” Timmy asked.

“I don’t know,” Ava said. “What shall we call him until we know?”

“Tickle Bug,” Timmy laughed.

“No,” Charlotte said. “He should have a proper name.”

“I was thinking maybe we could call him Fitz,” Ava said, “after your Papaw Fitz.”

“Papaw will like that,” Charlotte said. “Can we take Fitz to see Papaw?”

“He has a little cold right now, so he needs to rest where it’s quiet. We’ll take him this weekend to see Papaw Fitz.”

“There will be a big Fitz and a little Fitz,” Timmy said.

Ava had enlisted Gail Goodwin, one of the women who worked as a housekeeper at the bed and breakfast, to go up in the attic and bring down the Moses basket she had used for both Charlotte and Timmy when they were babies. Gail lined it with soft blankets, swaddled the baby, laid him in it, and then sat the basket on the couch where Ava could watch over him. Delia was taking care of the guests, and was on hand to change his diapers when needed, or to give him a bottle. When Ava finally sent Delia home, saying she’d be fine until morning, it was midnight, and her children were tucked up in bed.

When the phone rang, she was ready.

“Hey sweetheart, did you go to the bank today?”

“No, Brian,” Ava said. “I was busy rescuing the baby you abandoned in the trailer park.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this beautiful little redheaded boy that some old woman was looking after, who left on a bus this morning without your son.”

“How about that,” Brian said. “It sounds to me like he found a soft place to fall, though. Takes after his old man, I guess.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t care,” Ava said.

“He’s alright, isn’t he? You were a lousy wife, Ava, and I can tell you’re still a relentless nag, but everyone knows you’re a great mother. Stop bitching at me and let’s get back to the money issue. I really need to get out of Dodge pretty soon.”

“I have a new demand.”

“You’ve got that backwards,” Brian said. “I make the demands here.”

“No, I’ve been considering my position, and I think I won’t give you any money. I think you should come home. I’ll have the police waiting for you when you get here.”

“You bitch.”

“And relentless nag, don’t forget.”

“What’s this demand?”

“First of all, where’s the baby’s mother?”

“Forty leagues under the sea,” he said, “probably fish food by now.”

“I don’t want to know anything more about it. I want you to sign papers giving me full custody of this baby. As soon as they’re signed and notarized, I’ll give you the money.”

“How do I know you won’t double cross me?”

“I could have set you up and had you arrested when you came to pick up the money here. You must trust me somewhat.”

“I know you want me gone so you can shack up with my brother.”

“Oh, I do. But I want this baby taken care of first.”

“Sure, I can do that. Tell you what, I’ll even call my little brother Sean and have him make the arrangements. But if I see one cop hanging around, darlin’, I’m gone. That baby will go into foster care and there won’t be a thing you can do about it.”

When Ava hung up the phone she was shaking all over. She called Sean, who agreed to do as she asked, but suggested she get the police involved, at least covertly.

“He’s so smart,” Ava said. “He’ll know.”

“How are you going to get the money?”

“Brian said I could borrow against the trust Theo left me.”

“Not this one,” Sean said. “Theo set it up like Fort Knox.”

“What will I do?” Ava asked. “I can’t protect this child from him without those papers.”

“I’ll give him the money, and you can pay me back as your trust funds are released.”

“Sean, it’s too much.”

“I’ll tell him we could only borrow ten percent of its value. That will be enough to make him disappear again, but won’t clean you out.”

“Do you think he’ll settle for that?”

“He’ll have to.”

“He said the mother is dead,” Ava said.

“He’ll have to have a death certificate to prove it,” Sean said. “Does he have one?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“What happened to her?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”

“Okay,” Sean sighed. “I assume he’ll call me sometime soon.”

“Thank you so much,” Ava said. “It seems like the Fitzpatricks are always coming to my rescue.”

“You’re one of us, Ava, don’t forget that. We’re your family.”

When Ava hung up the phone, she was startled to see a well-dressed, gray-haired woman at the back door. She looked familiar to Ava, who couldn’t remember where she’d seen her before.

Ava let her in, saying, “Were you looking for a room?”

“No, dear,” the woman said. “I’m looking for your husband.”

“He’s not here,” Ava said, startled. “My husband has been missing for a long time.”

“I know you’ve been communicating with him, Ava,” she said. “Why don’t you invite me in? You’re in no immediate danger. I just need to talk to you.”

“What’s your name?” Ava asked, as she let the woman in the kitchen.

Ava peeked in at the sleeping baby to make sure he was okay. The woman followed her glance, walked over to the basket on the couch in the family room, and looked down admiringly.

“I’m Mrs. Wells, dear,” she said quietly. “Isn’t that a lovely baby? Look at all those beautiful red curls.”

The woman’s words were sweet, but something about her was making Ava very uneasy. She instinctively wanted her away from the baby, and quickly inserted herself between them.

“I’m sorry to seem inhospitable, Mrs. Wells, but it’s very late and I have had the most stressful day.”

“I know all about your day,” the older woman said, giving her a kindly, warm pat on the arm. “Let’s have some tea and get acquainted. I won’t keep you long, and it will be very worth your while, I promise.”

Ava felt like she was walking through a dream. She made tea, and the two women sat at her kitchen table, looking just like two new friends getting to know one another at a tea party. That appearance could not have been further from reality.

Ed found the letter from Margie over the visor in his truck, where he had stuck the mail he picked up on Tuesday and then forgot about it. He took the letter in his house and sat at the kitchen table with it for awhile. He thought about Mandy and all she’d been through in her life. He wondered what she could have done that would be bad enough for Margie to be able to use the information to blackmail her into being her friend.

It was just after two in the morning when Ed picked up the letter and took it to the sink, where he used a match to set it on fire. He let it burn in the sink until it was nothing but black ash. Then he took Hank to Mandy’s trailer and knocked on the door, holding a stack of newspapers and roll of packing tape. As soon as she opened the door Mandy jumped from the doorway into his arms. He had to drop the newspapers and tape in the snow in order to catch her.

“I was just surprised is all,” he said, in between her kisses. “I love our team, and I do want a long term contract.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she said. “I been missin’ you somethin’ awful.”

“I brought tape and newspaper to help you pack,” he said. “But it’s all wet now.”

“I don’t care about any damn tape,” she said, and squealed as he picked her up and carried her back in the trailer, slung over his shoulder. Hank followed them in, climbed up on the couch, turned around twice, and lay down to sleep.

Scott lay awake and thought about the letter still tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. He meant to talk to Maggie about it, but everything was going so well between them he couldn’t bring himself to take a chance on ruining everything.

‘What if I’d never found it?’ he thought to himself. ‘What if I burn it? No one knows about that letter but me. No one has to know.’

He got up and went to the front room, intending to take the letter and destroy it. He wanted to do it, had convinced himself he had a right to protect Maggie from the contents. Anything written inside could only hurt her, after all. When he took the letter out of his jacket pocket he once again experienced the overwhelming feeling that he was about to do wrong. There was no mistaking the feeling, or the cold sweat that accompanied it. He put the letter back in his jacket and went to the window, which was frosted with ice. He rubbed a spot big enough so he could look out at the snow-covered lawn and a night sky full of stars.

‘I want her so badly,’ he thought. ‘But if I go about it the wrong way I will never forgive myself.’

He knew he had to give her the letter. Once she read it, she could decide for herself if what he did was wrong or not. It had been seven years, but it might as well have been yesterday as far as Maggie was concerned. She may be willing to hold Scott in her arms, but he wasn’t convinced he occupied the first place position in her heart.

M
aggie hadn’t been to Fleurmania in several years. The little town was tucked away in the foothills of Pine Mountain, just like Rose Hill, but on the other side of Bear Lake. It was half the size of Rose Hill, and was well off the beaten track as far as tourists were concerned. There was a large Mennonite Church there, but no folksy tourist attractions. As a consequence, the town was peaceful, but poor.

At Pine Crest Manor, Maggie found the administrator was a Mrs. Kathleen Dougan, someone who went to school with her father and mother.

“Your dad was the handsomest boy you ever did see,” she said. “He had that black curly hair and bright blue eyes. We all had mad crushes on him, but he only had eyes for your mother.”

Maggie knew that wasn’t entirely true, according to her mother, but she let this nice lady have that fantasy. She played ‘remember when’ and ‘do you know’ with her for a little while, and then got to the reason for her visit.

“You remember my Aunt Delia?” Maggie asked her.

“Of course I do, how is she?”

“She’s doing well. Ian’s retired now but they still have the bar, the Rose and Thorn.”

“It was such a shame about their little boy. He was the sweetest thing.”

“Yes, he was. Did Connie Fenton work here at the same time Delia did?”

Mrs. Dougan’s demeanor immediately changed.

“Unfortunately, yes,” she said.

“Why, what happened?” Maggie asked.

“Nothing I’m allowed to talk about,” she said, “if I want to keep my job.”

“I certainly don’t want to jeopardize your job,” Maggie said, clearly wishing she could.

She could tell Mrs. Dougan was dying to say just what she thought of Connie Fenton, so Maggie told her about the president of Eldridge College dying in the Eldridge Inn, where Connie was in charge, and Mrs. Dougan’s eyes got bigger as she listened. After Maggie finished telling her all she knew, the administrator got up and left the room for a minute, before coming back with a thick file.

“I have to run out to my car and look for my cell phone,” she told Maggie in a loud voice, as she thumped the file down right in front of her on the desk. “It might take me awhile. You help yourself to anything you need while I’m gone. I’ll lock the door so no one disturbs you.”

With that final remark she left the office, and Maggie wasted no time in opening the file to read through the contents. By the time Mrs. Dougan came back twenty minutes later, Maggie had learned all she needed to know. She thanked the woman profusely.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what you needed to know,” Mrs. Dougan said loudly, as they walked through her secretary’s office.

“That’s okay,” Maggie said. “I understand.”

Maggie walked out of Pine Crest Manor and down the steep stairs set into the hillside to where she left her car on Main Street. There weren’t many businesses open in Fleurmania, just a gas station and a general store. Maggie went into the latter to see if they had any root beers.

Morris Hatcher came out as she walked in.

“Hatch!” she said just as he said, “Maggie!”

“What in the devil’s name are you doing in this godforsaken town?” he asked her.

“I came to see someone at Pine Crest,” she said.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said. “How’s your family?”

“They’re all just fine,” she lied. “How about your bunch?”

“It would take me all morning to get you caught up, and I have to get back to work.”

He pointed to the gas station down the block.

“Is Marvin Bledsoe still running that place?” Maggie asked.

“He is, and about to drive me crazy. He hasn’t changed much either; he’s just fatter and meaner.”

“How about if you put the VW up on the rack and talk to me while you change the oil? He can’t fuss about that.”

“Sure, bring that old buggy on down here. I’d like to see what kind of rubber bands and paper clips you got holding her together these days.”

“I’m going to buy myself a root beer and I’ll be right down.”

Morris Hatcher had been Hannah’s boyfriend in high school. Then his good-for-nothing father drank himself to death, and his mother died of cancer, leaving Hatch at age sixteen with four younger siblings to look after. He dropped out of school, went to work for Marvin as a car mechanic, and broke up with Hannah, who was devastated.

Maggie bought her soda and then drove her vintage VW Beetle down to Marvin’s gas station. Marvin Bledsoe was a gigantic man who’d already had one leg amputated because of diabetes, but still he sat in the gas station all day long drinking whiskey in RC Cola and accepting money for gas and car repairs. He started out nice in the morning, but by afternoon he was a different person altogether.

It was still early, and Marvin was in good form. He was sitting behind the counter in his wheelchair, chewing the fat with a couple old coots.

“Hey Red,” he said when Maggie walked in. “How’s that ole man a yers?”

“Fitz is fine,” Maggie said. “How are you doing, Marvin?”

“Oh, I can’t complain,” he said with a wheezy laugh. “Nobody’d listen even if I did.”

“I’d like Hatch to take a look at my VW, if that’s alright with you. My oil light just came on and I’m afraid to drive it all the way back to Rose Hill.”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “Go on in.”

Maggie walked through the connecting door to the service area, which seemed very familiar to her, having an uncle with a service station very much like it in Rose Hill. She threw Hatch the keys and he brought the VW in and raised it up. He found Maggie a milk crate to sit on and placed it near the gas stove. He draped a newspaper over it.

“That should keep your britches clean,” he said, and she thanked him.

Hatch’s hands were stained black from his work. He wore a pair of faded blue coveralls with the name “Dwayne” embroidered on the chest; they were several sizes too big and hung on his thin frame. Hatch had never been what you would call a handsome man, with a lanky, bony frame, a long neck with a pronounced Adam’s apple, and a big hooked nose. He had large dark eyes and a friendly smile, though. His features were further improved by the black goatee he wore to cover up his receding chin. In high school he’d had long silky straight black hair, which many a girl envied, but now he wore it nearly shaved. When he smiled, a chipped front tooth was still apparent. He always looked tired as a teenager, with dark circles under his eyes. They were still there.

“How’s Patty?” Maggie asked first.

Patty had been in Maggie’s class, a very shy girl who quit school the year after Hatch did to help look after the younger kids.

“Well, that’s a kind of sad story right there,” he said, as he drained the old oil out of the pan. “She took up with a fella from over to Familysburg, and he got her hooked on that meth. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead, to tell you the truth. I haven’t heard from her in over a year. I got her child living with me, though. He’s about seven, and he’s a good ‘un. Smart, you wouldn’t believe how smart that boy is. Gets all A’s on his report card. Better’n I ever did, that’s for sure.”

“I’m sorry to hear that about Patty,” Maggie said, thinking Hatch would never be free from raising someone else’s kids.

“She may kick it yet. I guess there’s some that do.”

“What about Boyd?”

“He’s done good. He went in the army, got himself a promotion this past year. He’s running the procurement department down at a base in Texas. He doesn’t come home much, got a family of his own now, two little girls and a real nice wife.”

“And Lessie?”

“She went to beauty school and works at a place in Morgantown. She’s married to a steady, nice guy who’s a meter reader for the gas company. They don’t have any kids yet. Her job keeps her busy, so she doesn’t get home much either.”

“And Trudy?”

“Trudy graduated from high school ‘bout five years ago, and she’s working at the Megamart in Friendsville, sharing a place with another girl she works with. She’s got her a real nice Christian boyfriend, and I expect she’ll marry him and have a bunch of little Sunday-schoolers before long.”

“So it’s just you and Patty’s boy?”

“Joshua. Yep, it’s just me and Joshie now. I never did get married; I just didn’t have room for anybody else, ya know what I mean?”

Maggie thought of how Hannah had suffered when he broke her heart in high school. Hannah, who didn’t seem to be able to have kids of her own; she would have married him in a heartbeat, and been a good mother to all those kids. Things might have turned out differently for everyone if she had.

“How’s our Hannah?” Hatch asked her, as if reading her mind. “You two still joined at the hip?”

“Pretty much,” Maggie said. “If I don’t see her every day I talk to her four or five times.”

“How’s she getting along?”

“She’s good,” Maggie said.

“I heard she married Sam Campbell. She happy?”

“She’s doing fine,” Maggie said. “She’s still the animal control officer for the county; she and Sam took over the family farm. She keeps pretty busy.”

“She got any kids?”

“No, not yet.”

“I see her dad every once in awhile when he tows somebody through here. You tell her I said hi.”

Hatch and Maggie played the “remember when” and “do you ever see” game until the oil change was done, and then Maggie paid Marvin while Hatch backed her car out of the service bay.

“You tell your Uncle Curtis I want to sell him this place,” Marvin said to Maggie.

“Why would you want to do that, Marvin?”

“I’m gettin’ old, girl, and I want to move to Florida.”

“It’s way too hot in Florida,” Maggie told him. “You’ve got that mountain blood in your veins, and it’s too thick for the beach.”

“You tell him I’ll make him a good deal,” Marvin ordered, in between sips of RC and the whisky Maggie could smell from where she stood. “I mean it.”

Maggie waved to him as she went out, and took her keys from Hatch.

“Your buggy’s in good shape for a senior citizen,” he said. “I adjusted the timing belt and cleaned your spark plugs while I was in there, but Marvin don’t have to know ‘bout that.”

“I really appreciate it,” Maggie said. “It was good to see you again.”

“You ever hear from Gabe?” he asked her.

Maggie still felt a sharp pain in her heart at the mention of his name.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know where he went or what he’s doing.”

“Well, I don’t want to spread gossip, but I heard he was in prison down in Florida.”

Maggie’s heart thumped hard in her chest and the pain increased.

“That’s not true,” she said. “He couldn’t be. For what?”

“Possession with intent to sell,” he said. “A huge shipment of drugs is what I heard.”

“That can’t be true,” Maggie said. “Gabe didn’t do drugs, let alone sell them.”

“I’m just tellin’ ya what I heard. He and Patty’s man had the same supplier.”

“That’s just vicious gossip,” Maggie said. “I don’t believe a word of it.”

“I won’t argue with ya, woman,” Hatch said. “I know ya too well, and I’d never win.”

Maggie just kept shaking her head.

“Patty’s man is thinking of someone else.”

“Alright,” Hatch said. “Sorry I said anything. You mad?”

“No, I’m not mad.”

Hatch looked at her with those big soulful dark eyes, reflecting a life of sorrow and hard work.

“You take care,” he said to her. “I’d give ya a hug, but I’m too dirty.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “Hug received, just the same.”

Maggie cried a little on the way back to Rose Hill; for Hatch and his orphans, for Hannah and her troubled husband, and in a burst of self-pity, for herself and Gabe.

Several people nodded to Scott as he entered the Rose and Thorn, and one or two people took the opportunity to leave, but he was used to that. Patrick was serving drinks, and his Uncle Ian was holding down one end of the bar, entertaining the tourists. On top of the other end of the bar, oddly enough, what looked remarkably like a small beagle was sprawled out asleep, its head resting on a folded bar towel.

Patrick lowered the volume on the Alison Krauss CD he was playing, and said, as Scott sat down at the bar, “Sorry about giving you so much grief about clearing out the bar the other night. I know you were just doing your job, and we did have way too many people in here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scott replied and nodded at the dog. “Who’s your friend?”

“That’s Banjo,” Patrick said, as he resumed polishing glasses. “I’m dog sitting him for Hannah. Caroline asked her to find homes for all Theo’s dogs and Hannah’s kennel is full up. She found a home for his brother, but this one is still available.”

“Just dog sitting, huh?” Scott said with a smirk.

“It’s just for a few days, until she gets something else sorted out,” Patrick insisted, but Scott knew better. “Lazy Ass Laddie doesn’t like him, so my mother had him tied up behind the bakery, bossing him around something awful. I brought him down here so he could relax where it’s warm.”