Stardust A Novel (6 page)
Sally’s eyebrows arched like a cat’s back. “You’re not seriously considering it, are you?”
“No, but let’s face it, I don’t have many options. Get a job waiting tables at Ruby’s. Move in with Aunt Cora. Or follow Bobby Carl Applegate’s suggestion and sing at the Grand Ole Opry.”
Sally burst out laughing. “Leave it to Bobby Carl. He’s been pining for you forever. Has he asked you out yet?”
“Good grief. Even he’s got brains enough to know how far that would get him.”
“I’ll give him a month.”
I took another bite of my sandwich. “Are you sure there’s no pineapple in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I put mandarin oranges in it. Do you think the Magnolias will like it?”
“I’m sure they will. It’s delicious.”
Sally lowered her head and placed her well-manicured hand over mine. “Forget the chicken salad. Tell me, how are
you
? The shock of O’Dell walking out, then him drowning—”
I held up my hand. “Hey, I’m through crying over O’Dell. Not only did he leave me without any means of support, but I found a life insurance policy in his briefcase with
her
name on it.”
“
Her,
as in the woman he was stupid enough to leave you for? Was it someone you know?”
I shook my head. “Fiona Callahan. I can only imagine what kind of person she is. One with plenty of wiles, apparently, if he’d take out an insurance policy with her as the beneficiary.” The self-pity I’d told myself I wouldn’t wallow in rose up like a phantom. I swallowed to keep it at bay, but tears sprang to my eyes.
Sally reached a bejeweled hand across the table to me. “Hey, you don’t have to be brave on my account.”
I drew my lips into a tight pose. “Thanks, Sal, but dang it, I’m sick of thinking about it day in and day out. I need to do something to get my mind off O’Dell, and crying all the time’s pathetic and weak. I’m open to suggestions.”
“Well, the Magnolias can always use your help.”
“I’m not society material. Just because you and Hudson are swimming in dough—”
“Is that what you think? The Magnolias are a bunch of rich girls? Nu-uh-uh. Georgia, I love you more than all the china in my cupboards and half as much as your sweet girls, but I swear you jump to conclusions faster than a cricket with its tail on fire.”
“I do not jump to conclusions. And crickets don’t have tails… do they?”
We burst out laughing and spent the rest of the afternoon giggling like old times. It was medicine for my weary spirit, but when it was time to pick Rosey up from school, I wasn’t an inch closer to knowing how I would take care of my girls. Or even where to start.
A phone call from Hugh Salazar, attorney-at-law, changed all that.
I
’d known Hugh Salazar for as long as I could remember. When he wasn’t working on a case, he drank coffee and ate snickerdoodles at the counter of the Sweet Shoppe two doors down from his office. Not a lot of crimes are committed in Mayhaw, but Hugh was considered the best if you needed his services for a will, a contract, or a sticky divorce. He handled Aunt Cora’s affairs, and I say that tongue in cheek as he was one of the most frequent of her gentlemen callers at Mara Lee on State Street. Dark and handsome, his ominous presence in my life scared the bejesus out of me. But he wasn’t intimidating enough to keep me from showing up at his office every year on the anniversary of my grandfather’s death to ask if he’d heard from my parents.
The year I was ten and had saved up twelve dollars from delivering the
Mayhaw Messenger
for Mr. Wardlaw, I went to him and asked him to hire a private investigator.
“My parents’ names are Gordon and Justine Mackey, and the last place we lived was Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. I want you to have someone find them and give me an explanation of why they left me and when they’re coming back to fetch me. A person should know, don’tcha think?”
“I know what their names were, Georgia. Justine was in my graduating class. I’ll tell you one thing, you didn’t get your pretty face from her.” He stroked the dark shadow of whiskers on his chin and looked at me over the top of his wire spectacles. “And twelve dollars wouldn’t be enough to get a private eye halfway across Texas. Your momma had her reasons, and you best give it up and concentrate on getting yourself out of the sixth grade.”
“Fifth. I’m only in the fifth. Old enough to learn the truth, even if it ain’t pretty.”
“You best not let your aunt Cora hear you say
ain’t,
or she’ll be having you write ‘I won’t say ain’t’ five hundred times.”
I remembered huffing up my shoulders and glaring at him. “If you know the reasons, then I’ll give
you
the money and you can just tell me. ’Twould be the Christian thing for you to do, if you ask me.”
He ruffled my hair and said, “You got the spunk, missy. Best be putting it to use on your schoolbooks.” And then he ushered me out the door and slipped me a nickel. “Go have yourself some ice cream now.”
Each year I dreamed up a new excuse to ask Mr. Salazar to help me find my parents, and sure as the sun sets over Hixon Bayou, he evaded me. The last time I’d asked him was two weeks before my marriage to O’Dell. And that time he’d called me into his office.
He set me down and lit up a cigar. “Georgia, I’ve been like a father to you, guiding you whenever I saw the opportunity—”
“All you’ve ever done is avoid my questions and pat me on the head. I could’ve used some fatherly advice now and then, but all my life I’ve wanted to know one thing and one thing only. Why did my parents leave me?”
He blew smoke in the air, and I knew then he was thinking up another excuse not to answer me. Instead, when the smoke thinned and my patience had gotten even thinner, he leaned over. “I asked you here for two reasons. One: Why in the name of thunder are you marrying O’Dell Peyton? I thought you had better sense. You could go to secretary school or even the University of Texas if you wanted. Instead, you’re marrying a boy with no more ambition than to run his daddy’s fishing boat up and down the bayou—”
“What may seem like idle fishing to you is O’Dell’s way of planning his future. He has his sights set on bigger things. You don’t know him like I do.”
“And how’s that, Georgia?” He picked up the cigar and leaned back. “Please don’t tell me you’re in a family way.”
The look on my face gave him the answer. I was eighteen years old and almost five months pregnant. I’d been dating O’Dell my senior year, and what I’d done was stupid, no doubt.
“He loves me and told me nothing would happen if it was my first time.”
“I take back what I said earlier. O’Dell has two sterling qualities: fishing the bayou and he’s a cockamamie salesman.”
His tone dripped with sarcasm, but I leaned over and looked him in the eye. “You said you asked me here for two reasons. You’ve stated your dismay at my upcoming marriage. So be it. What was the other reason?”
“You didn’t allow me to elaborate before you jumped in with your accusation of why I wouldn’t tell you about your parents. If you’re old enough to be married—and I have doubts, my dear—then perhaps it’s time to tell you what I know of Justine and Gordon Mackey.”
The oxygen in the room fled, swallowed up by the cigar smoke and the great hunks of it I’d inhaled, leaving me now with a head that swam with dizziness and a heart that galloped like a racehorse through my chest. My spine straightened, and I waited.
Mr. Salazar was no doubt amused as he waved his fingers through the air and said, “By last count, Justine is wanted in three states for failure to appear after being charged with drunk driving. Her husband, Gordon, whom you call
Father,
has been divorced from Justine for twelve years. If my calculations are correct, that would put the demise of their marriage around the same time as your arrival in Mayhaw. His whereabouts are unknown.”
The possibilities piled one upon another in my head. Alcohol, divorce, skipping from one state to another. The fairy tale of one day being reunited with them in a clapboard bungalow with a tire swing in the front yard had screeched to a terrible halt. Aunt Cora’s declarations that my momma had done me a favor by dropping me off in Mayhaw settled over me like the final pounding of a judge’s gavel. My destiny had never been mine to choose. Aside from getting myself in a
family way,
as Mr. Salazar put it.
And that was the thought uppermost in my mind the day Hugh Salazar’s call came. Since O’Dell’s family used Skaggs Whiting as their attorney, I discerned Hugh’s call had nothing to do with O’Dell. When he asked me to come in at ten the following morning, I asked what was going on.
“Now, Georgia, I don’t cotton to talking on the phone regarding legal matters. Get your pretty self down here in the morning.”
Obviously, Aunt Cora was up to something. What, I couldn’t imagine, but it would be like her to take matters into her own hands and ask Hugh to give me a job out of pity. Being the state typing champion my junior year hardly gave me credentials, but what else it could be escaped me.
Hugh jumped up and pumped my hand when I went into his office, then leaned across the desk and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you, Georgia. You know Mrs. Palmer, I believe.” And in a grand gesture he held out his hand to Doreen Palmer.
Heat engulfed my face. Embarrassment over not calling on her in so long. And in the tizzy of worrying over being summoned to Hugh’s office, I’d not even baked the cake I meant to take to her in consolation over Paddy’s passing. At least my manners took over, and I went to her and leaned over, gave her a kiss on her soft cheek.
“I’m so sorry about Paddy.” Tears brimmed to the surface, but through the blur in my eyes, I could see her smile through deep lines of age and sorrow.
“He was a fighter, I’ll give him that.”
I tried to swallow, but shame and grief choked me. “You must think I’m awful. Not calling or bringing the girls by.” My nose ran along with a new surge of tears.
“Don’t you be fretting. Gracious, you’ve had your hands full, and losing your own husband to boot. I couldn’t even make it to O’Dell’s funeral. Tell me, how was it?”
I sniffed and blinked my eyes, trying to gain some control. Hugh handed me a handkerchief, and when I looked up to thank him, he nailed me with a look of stone.
“Thanks.” I blew my nose and willed myself to calm down.
Hugh cleared his throat. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
I scooted the empty chair closer to Doreen, took a deep breath, and dropped into the seat.
Hugh, however, remained standing, a document in his hand. “We’re here today at Doreen’s request. Paddy, as you are aware, passed away—rest his soul—and upon his being of sound mind and body when this instrument was established, this is his last will and testament.”
My chest tightened as he read. At first I was curious. Intrigued. Then confused. Paddy had bequeathed
me
the Stardust Tourist Cottages. All of it except his and Doreen’s personal belongings.
My heart sped up, and I was certain I’d misunderstood. While Hugh read on, Doreen reached over and took my shaking hand in her calloused, knobby one.
“There are a couple of provisions. The first is that Doreen shall have access to one of the cottages for as long as she is alive or desires to occupy one. The second is you must continue the operation of the business for at least five years from the date of transfer of the property. You may assign a third party to run the day-to-day operations, but you may not lease or sell the property for the stated time.”
As the news sunk in, the main question that surfaced was “Why? Why me?” And I asked it of Doreen, not Hugh.
“Simple, sweetie. Paddy always took a hankering to you as a child. Said you had the Tickle spirit. And I think you reminded him of a picture he has…
had
of his mother. She was a spitfire. Like you, Paddy said.”
My insides churned with the gravity of it. What did I know about running a tourist court? What did I know about anything?
“I was crazy over him, too. But surely there were other nieces and nephews… or even you. Why wouldn’t you want to continue to run the Stardust?”
She shook her head, her silver hair wispy and soft like a cloud. “The only other nieces and nephews are on my side of the family. Which is one of the reasons I’m anxious to finish the arrangements here. My family is from Oklahoma, and I’ll be going there next week for an extended stay. Maybe permanently.”
Done. Just like that. In the blink of an eye, I’d been handed the keys to my future. Unfathomable. Undeserved. And what it left me feeling was uncertain.
Hugh ruffled the papers. “I can draw up the document to transfer title. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”
Doreen stood. “Thank you. I hate to rush, but I need to stop by Garvey’s Funeral Home. I forgot to take Paddy’s eyeglasses. He’ll look more natural for the open casket with them on, don’t you think?” She patted me on the cheek, her fingers lingering for a moment, the wrinkles in her face softening as she smiled.
