Polly Dent Loses Grip (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) (20 page)

He had the door open and was almost all the way out when he stuck his head back inside. “Hurry back. We sure miss having you around to sass us.” He shut the door real quick-like. I had to smile.

With a couple of hours left before my doctor’s appointment, Old Lou carried me over to the Bright Sky Grocery where Shiny Portley did his best to keep the produce fresh and greet every customer who entered his store.

“We’ve been missing you around here. How’s Matilda?” was his greeting to me as I pushed my basket toward the spinach. He swiped his hands down his ever-present apron and over his bachelor’s belly and trolleyed his produce cart full of cabbages and bagged lettuce from the fruit section to salad fixings.

“Doing well. She’s settling in okay.”

One thing about Shiny is he knows people. He heard the hesitation in my voice and pounced on it almost as quick as I would have. “Has she had a hard time making the transition? I hear lots of things from children with aging parents; mood swings, stubborness, anger . . .”

“And you’d think that was a parent talking about their child.”

Shiny chuckled, starting his stomach to vibrating. “When it comes time for the kids to grow-up and start taking care of their weakening parent, it can become a real battle of wills.” He stacked another head of lettuce on the pile and started straightening the heads of cabbage.

I reached for a package of pre-washed spinach. “Matilda’s been real good that way, but it’s Bridgeton Towers that’s got Hardy and me in a muddle. A resident there had a fall right after we arrived.”

Shiny held a cabbage in place and stacked the other heads around it. “Can’t say that I’ve heard much about the place. I can ask around though. There’s bound to be someone in Maple Gap who’s had experience with Bridgeton Towers.”

Now why hadn’t I thought about that? With Bridgeton Towers being less than an hour outside Maple Gap, surely someone around here knew of the place and its reputation.

“Might want to check the Distant Echo’s office. Michael would know of any rumors.”

I bagged a red onion, the light bulb shining bright in my head. Michael, editor of Maple Gap’s weekly paper, would have his journalistic ear to the ground. I grabbed some fresh sliced mushrooms, slid them into my basket, and mentally added stopping by the paper to my list of things to do.

“You cooking for anyone in particular?” Shiny’s eyes held a hopeful gleam.

I waved my hand at the fixings for the spinach salad. “For Sara.”

Shiny’s eyes lost their playful gleam. “You haven’t heard the news then.”

I made enough spinach salad for Lela and Sara, and did some serious chopping for a quick batch of chicken noodle soup. Within minutes I had the broth and vegetables boiling, with the intention of adding the noodles later. I turned down the burner to let it simmer and headed out to the doctor’s office, heart feeling heavy in my chest. Old Lou’s driver’s side door was developing quite a creak. I’d have to get Hardy to dab some oil on the hinge or we’d have us a haunted house on wheels. Old Lou already had quite a collection of engine coughs and moans.

As soon as I set foot in the waiting room of Dr. Alex Icon, I came upon Lester Riley, dressed in his usual overalls and farm boots.

“LaTisha Barnhart!”

“How are the cows, Lester?”

“Chewing their cud and challenging the environment.”

A jab at environmentalists worried over the methane cows burp in a day. Lester had a problem with people worrying over such things. “Human activity accounts for fifty-five percent of methane production and they’re worried about my cows?”

“You train them to belch on cue and we can fuel a power plant.”

Lester slapped his leg and guffawed. “You’re good, LaTisha.” He worked his jaw and quirked his brows. “You thought anymore about taking a seat on the city council? You’d make a good council member.”

I noticed the Doctor’s receptionist was not at her desk and wrote my name on the waiting list under Lester’s. “Politics makes me crazy. Besides I’ve got my degree to finish as soon as Matilda is settled.”

“Think on it. With Mayor Taser expected to retire, we might have a seat or two become available.”

He’d been after me for months to consider the council. I dared to voice what was truly my opinion. “I’d vote for Regina.”

Lester scratched his chin. “She’s got a natural love for it, but I’m not sure how the majority would feel about her involvement with the Taser campaign scandal.”

“Forgiving. Regina did it for her momma.”

“But you don’t steal from a campaign to fund your mother’s nursing home care.”

Lester had a valid point, but I also knew that those who really knew Regina Rogane, owner of our hair salon, believed her when she said she intended to pay back the money. And she had, too, even while being the victim of our current Mayor’s wife’s blackmail scheme. Which led me to another point. “Look how good everyone treated Betsy after her public apology about the whole blackmailing scheme on Regina.”

Lester shook his head. “She had to do it, though. Betsy Taser’s a social climber without a conscience.”

Tammy Lyons, the Doctor’s receptionist, appeared, calling for Lester. When she laid eyes on me she squealed and held out her arms. “Mrs. Barnhart!”

I embraced that girl like she was my own. And she nearly was. Her and Lela had gone to school together and been great pals. “Lela call you? She’s coming home tomorrow.”

Tammy smoothed her hair from her eyes. “She is? She taking leave?”

“No. She was fired.”

Tammy’s eyes grew wide. “No. That was her dream job.”

I shrugged. “Was. She said the pressure was hot and she was almost glad to go. How’s your school going?”

Tammy had begun her first semester of college after working for the doctor over the summer and finally saving enough for tuition.

“All A’s.” Her grin was huge.

“That calls for another hug.” I gathered her slender form into my arms while Lester slid by us.

Tammy whispered into my ear
,
“Thanks for getting me the job. Doc told me your recommendation made the decision for him.”

“All I said was true, too. You’re hard working and determined, mannerly and pleasant. What employer wouldn’t want an employee like that?”

She pecked my cheek and scurried down the hall. Since the wood-looking plastic chairs looked less than inviting, I mounted the lone armchair like a queen ascending her throne. My hose went quickly to work rolling down. Made me want to switch to knee-highs. Not often did I get a bad pair anymore, but when I had to buy the cheaper brand because it was all I could find. . . I sighed and gave the curled waist a tug.

If only I was home breathing the scent of chicken broth instead of the sterile scent of antiseptic. I wanted to be anywhere but here. I sucked in a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm myself. The spells of the last few days haunted me. Somehow, way down deep, I knew this visit would not end in good news.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I called Lela as soon as I got home. Her cell phone rang and rang. I raced through what to say in my message, then decided to simply ask her to call me back. No use upsetting Lela without being able to explain, though I knew my simple message of “Call me, baby,” would put her on alert. Usually I left pleasantries
,
and the latest on her daddy when she didn’t answer.

I mixed up homemade egg noodles and cut them with a pizza cutter, making them as thin as I could. When I lifted the thin noodles and added them to the boiling broth, the tears began to gather. I blinked. Drops of salt spilled down my cheeks as I tossed the last of the noodles into the pot and turned it low again to simmer.

I swallowed, wiped my hands on the dishtowel hanging over my shoulder and turned to the refrigerator. I split the spinach salad into two containers and mixed the dressing in the blender, dividing that as well. Lining the picnic basket with a dishtowel, I slipped in the container of spinach salad and dressing, leaving enough room for the soup.

With nothing left to do, I sat.

The phone rang.

Lela.

“Momma, are you okay?”

“No, baby. Things are bad all around.” Tears came full force then, a gushing, gasping fountain that choked me and rendered me unable to answer the questions Lela peppered at me. I told her all about my doctor’s visit. She listened close.

“Don’t you tell me
‘
no use borrowing trouble
’
?”

I couldn’t help it, my heart puffed with pride, even if her words pricked at me. “True, baby, but I know how I’ve been feeling.”

“Then don’t fret until you know those test results. God hasn’t suddenly lost control.”

“There’s more news, Lela.” And this hurt me real bad to tell. “It’s not good.”

She sucked in air. “Tell me.”

“It’s Sara.” I felt the rawness build in my throat. “The cancer is back.”

Lela went quiet. “Oh no.”

“You got fired but the good Lord knew there was certainly work for you to do here.”

“I’ve got my bags packed already, maybe I should go ahead and start out.”

“I made up some spinach salad and chicken noodle soup for them. There’s some for you too.”

Her voice got soft. “How long does she have?”

I steeled myself against another wave of grief. “Six weeks. Two months max.”

 
Lela made her decision to come home immediately, the tie between her and Sara a strong one. They’d become real good buddies during the weeks and months of Sara’s first struggle with cancer. Before remission, and before Lela went off to college.

I told her I needed to go back to Bridgeton Towers. “Should be home in four days or so
,
and I’ll join you in helping them out.”

I sat down hard at the table and tried to focus on the task at hand. Sara needed to eat. Even if she didn’t want to eat, her family would. And Lela would be home. She would take care of them for me while I was gone. It was the least we could do.

Closing my eyes, I breathed a prayer for this grieving family. For hope crushed beneath the heel of a sometimes too harsh reality. Sara would go be with the angels, but she wouldn’t leave here unaware of how loved and missed she would be.

My experience had been the reverse of Sara’s, my momma dying when I was eleven, but my momma’s sister took good care of me, and I had no complaints, only a deep grief to have held onto my mother for a little bit longer.

I placed the picnic basket in the back seat and slid behind the steering wheel of Old Lou. The Buick, with its leather seats and carpet stains from Shayna getting car sick, seemed like a scrapbook on wheels of my life raising children.

 
It wasn’t even noon yet and I felt drained. This wasn’t just about Sara, this was about the elephant in the room. The weight on my shoulders over the possibility of something really serious being wrong with me that the doctor had hinted at. A subject I wanted to avoid. Lela’s council had been sound and true. Not a bit of use being droopy over what I didn’t know.

Lord knows, and that’s good enough for me.

I squared my shoulders.

I rounded the corner and pulled up in front of the Buchanan’s rancher. Sara stood at the door as if waiting for me. I heaved my bulk out and did a wave in her direction. Her face beamed at me through the screen door.

“Mom. Mrs. Barnhart is here. She’s here!”

But Sara didn’t run outside and throw herself into my arms, and dread gripped me anew. It was the weakness. Her mother had seen it, worried over it, for the last three weeks. Sara didn’t want to eat, and even when hungry she only picked, and then other symptoms. . . I’d forgotten Sara’s doctor appointment coincided with delivering Matilda to Bridgeton Towers, and chided myself for forgetting this baby.

I placed the picnic basket at my feet and spread my arms wide, sunshine beaming down on my head. Sara slipped outside, movements slow, her face pale. She wrapped her little skinny arms around me as far as they could go.

“I missed you, baby.”

“Mom made me go to the grocery store with her. Shiny told us he’d seen you and that he thought you might be dropping by.”

Ah. That explained her vigil. “Brought you some spinach salad and chicken noodle soup. And I have a grand surprise.”