The Day Will Come (4 page)
“Where’s Jordan now?” I asked.
Zach shook his head. “Home, I guess. Why?”
He obviously had no idea that Jordan would be devastated by this news. Hell, I wouldn’t have had any idea, either, if I hadn’t seen his face the night before when he talked about her.
“Just wondered,” I said. “Since he’s part of the band.”
He shrugged. “Want me to get started milking?”
“Sure. I’ll take care of the feed.”
I watched as he casually walked off to fill a bucket with soapy water, having unknowingly delivered news more shocking than he had expected. I stood unmoving, wondering if I should call Jordan or Jermaine, or what exactly I should do. My hands were suddenly pulled forward, Pocahantas tired of waiting for her hay. I yanked the clump apart and scattered it in front of her, my thoughts miles away.
A glance at the clock told me it was only five-thirty. Too early to call Jermaine’s house, for fear of waking Lavina, their one-year-old, but I assumed Jordan would be up.
“I’ll be right back,” I called to Zach.
He waved without looking up from the spigot.
In my office I punched Jordan’s number into the phone but was rewarded only with several rings and his answering machine.
“Jordan,” I said after the beep. “I’m so sorry to hear about…the news. Give me a call if I can do anything.” I hit the flash button and called Granger’s Welding on the very slim chance Jordan—or any of the guys—had gone to work that early, but reached their answering machine, as well. I stared at the phone, then went back out to the parlor. I stood at Zach’s elbow while he ran the wet cloth over Cinderella’s udder.
“They know anything else about how Genna died?” I asked him.
He glanced up. “Not that they told me. I guess she was trampled, or something. You know, everybody trying to get out.”
I thought back to the evening, with its chaos and panic. The closest I’d seen to trampling was the bottleneck at the top of the stairs when Norm’s wheelchair got stuck, and the guy trying to climb over the people next to me. Besides, wouldn’t the band have had a close exit backstage?
“Nothing else?” I asked.
Zach stood up and skirted around me to drop the cloth in the bucket. “I’m telling you, I don’t know much. Just that she’s dead. Why?”
I looked at him, thinking if his folks didn’t tell him about Jordan’s relationship with Genna, I shouldn’t, either. Maybe his parents didn’t even know. And maybe I was making something out of nothing.
“Just curious. Since I was there, you know.”
He looked at me like he wanted to say, “Whatever,” but was smart enough not to. I went back to feeding the herd, and he grabbed the milker to stick it on Cinderella’s teats.
By the time we’d finished milking and cleaned the stalls I was really feeling the late night and the strain of knowing about Genna.
“Thanks, Zach,” I said, smothering a yawn. “I’ll get your paycheck to you by Wednesday.”
“Sure. No problem.”
We walked outside, where I stretched my back and did some neck rolls. “Want to come in and get a bit of breakfast while you wait for your mom?”
He looked at me. “You know, thanks. But I think I’ll wait.”
“My food not good enough for you?”
“It’s not that.” He grinned. “It’s just…you really stink.”
I made a face and swatted his shoulder before leaving him laughing on the lawn with Queenie.
Inside, I took off my boots and made sure I wouldn’t be dragging any straw or cow crap through the house on my clothes. In the old days, before I had roommates, I would’ve just stripped at the washer. Modesty definitely had its drawbacks, no matter how necessary it was. Ever since Lucy and Tess had moved in the summer before, I’d been revamping my behavior. A bit, anyway. In a couple of weeks I could go back to my old ways. Lucy and Lenny would soon be off on their honeymoon, and Tess would be hanging with me for one last week, since she still had school. Then they would both move to Lenny’s townhome in Perkasie. I’d be alone again in my creaky old farmhouse, except for those weekends Nick came up from Virginia or I could get away to Harrisonburg.
“Wow, that smells great,” I said, peering in the kitchen door. I was surprised my stomach was making hungry noises, after hearing the news about Genna. “Baked oatmeal?”
Lucy looked up from the counter, where she was slicing strawberries into a bowl. Her hair, wet from the shower, had made a semi-circle of wetness on the collar of her shirt. “Thought we could all use a little sustenance after last night.” She stopped slicing and searched my face. “What is it?”
I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms, sticking my hands in my armpits. “They found a body in the club last night.”
She sucked in a breath. “I thought they got everybody out.”
“I did, too.”
“Who was it?”
I pinched my lips together. “Remember the female singer in the band?”
“The one Jordan was looking for?”
I nodded. “Genna.”
Lucy’s eyes filled. “Oh no. What happened?”
“Nobody knows. Zach told me they think she was trampled, but nobody said anything about that on the news, and the cops would’ve found a pile-up right away.”
She stared at me. “You think it was something else?”
“It must’ve been. Exactly
what
, I don’t know.”
We stood there, looking at each other, until I changed position and my smell wafted up to me, reminding me how rank I was.
“I have time for a shower before eating?” I asked. “Please?”
“I would appreciate it. The oatmeal needs a few more minutes in the oven, anyway.”
I peeked into the front room to see Nick still comatose. I tiptoed over to make sure he was breathing, and when I assured myself he was, went upstairs to the bathroom. Tess was just coming out, her hair disheveled and her princess nightgown wrinkled.
“Hey, Punkin,” I said.
She wrinkled her nose. “Eww. You stink.”
Ah, the honesty of a nine-year-old.
Twenty minutes later I smelled like Lever 2000, not trusting the girly stuff I’d received as a birthday present to cut through the nastiness. I washed my hair twice and was keeping my fingers crossed that it did the trick.
In my bedroom, I ripped the sheets off the bed, along with the mattress pad and pillowcases, and tried not let them touch my clothes on the way downstairs. By the time I’d stuffed them into the washing machine and started the load, I was hearing Nick’s voice in the kitchen.
“Nick stink, too?” I asked Tess when I entered the room.
“Yuck,” she replied.
Nick laughed. “All right, I get the hint. I’ll take my turn now.”
He pushed himself up from the table, and I gave him the once over. His color had returned somewhat, but his eyes were still criss-crossed with red.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked.
“A bit better, I guess.”
“You still heading home today?”
“Yeah. Once I get breakfast.”
“You’ll be all right to drive?”
“I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I let it go.
On his way past me, he stopped and spoke quietly. “Lucy told me about the singer. Jordan going to be okay?”
“So you saw it, too?”
“What? That he loves her?”
I nodded. “And I’m pretty sure it was mutual.”
He sighed. “I thought so, too. Poor guy.”
He left then, and I sat down to eat. No matter how bad I felt for Jordan, I still got a good helping down. I had to take the cooking while Lucy was around.
After breakfast Lucy headed out for her chores. I stuck around and kept Nick company while he ate his oatmeal.
“I called home and had Mom get me a doctor’s appointment,” he said.
I looked at him. “You think you caught a virus somewhere?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea.” He looked at his hand, opening and closing his fingers. “I just feel so…weird.”
“You’ll let me know what you find out?”
“Of course.”
“And you’re sure you’ll be all right driving?”
He covered my hand with his. “Like I said, I’ll be fine.”
I remembered how Jordan looked when he couldn’t find Genna the night before. The nervousness. I felt it now, and I wasn’t sure why.
I pulled my hand out from under Nick’s and walked over to the window. Queenie and Tess were in the side yard playing tug-of-war with an old sock, Queenie dragging the girl in circles. I watched as they played, and Nick brought his empty bowl over to the counter. He put his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my head, watching the dog and girl.
Lucy walked past with a shovel and garden rake over her shoulder, laughing and calling out something to her daughter. Queenie, sensing something new, let go of the sock to follow Lucy. Tess landed on her bottom with a thump and looked at the sock with confusion. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on her face, and Nick laughed softly in my ear.
“I’m gonna brush my teeth and head out,” he said.
I turned around, and he let his hands slide with me, keeping me within his arms. “You’ll be back for the wedding?” I asked.
“The rehearsal, actually. Lucy invited me to the lunch, and I figured since I have a free place to stay…”
I raised my eyebrows. “She’s putting you up?”
“Yeah. In some old farmhouse, with a cranky farmer.”
“Cranky? Who’re you calling cranky?”
He leaned in to kiss me and I enjoyed it for a few moments until he broke away.
“You going to check on Jordan today?” he asked.
“As soon as you’re gone. I wonder if his family has any idea that they were…whatever they were.”
“He certainly didn’t tell us.”
“Huh-uh. And I don’t know if his family’s even met the members of the band.”
He gently slapped my hips. “You’ll take care of him.”
“We’ll see if he wants taking care of.”
Nick went upstairs to get his stuff together, and I opened the hall closet to pull out my leather chaps. I’d been riding lots of times already that spring, but not yet without the chaps. That spring breeze could cut through jeans in a heartbeat. My leather jacket, which I’d left on the porch, still stank to high heaven, so I pulled out my denim one and hoped it would do the trick. With the added layer of my leather vest I should be okay.
“Well, I’m off,” Nick said. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and dangled his truck keys in the other hand.
“I’ll walk you out.”
After a hug from Tess, a lick—or three or four—from Queenie, and a waved good-bye from Lucy, Nick settled in the driver’s seat of his Ranger.
“You’ll call?” I said.
“I’ll call.”
“All right.”
“I love you,” he said.
“Love you, too.”
One more kiss and he was down the driveway and off south to Virginia. I stared after him, hoping the empty feeling in my stomach was more about Genna than whatever was going on with Nick.
Carrying my chaps and jacket, I walked through the dry grass to the garden plot, where Lucy knelt in the tilled garden, planting green beans.
She glanced up. “You going somewhere?”
“To check on Jordan.”
She sat back on her heels. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“Will do. You’ll be here for the milk truck?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks.” I began walking away.
“Stella?”
I turned back. “Yeah?”
“You’ll be home in time for our appointment?”
“What?”
Her eyelids lowered, and I wondered what I’d done to deserve a glare like that.
Then I remembered.
We had an appointment at the bridal shop. I was going to be Lucy’s maid of honor in a week, and we still didn’t know what I was wearing. I’d put it off for so long Lucy was starting to worry I’d show up wearing my newest jeans and cleanest T-shirt. In fact, I’d almost asked if that would be an option.
I swallowed. “What time’s it at?”
“Eleven. And we can’t be late.”
I looked out over the field, where tiny shoots of corn lay in perfect green lines. “I’ll be here.”
She turned back to the garden, and I knew I’d better be back in time, or I would become the latest addition on her shit list.
In the garage I put on my chaps, vest, and jacket, and freed my Harley from the chain that locked it to a hook in the garage floor. The 1988 Low Rider and I had been through a lot together, from rebuilding the front end, to last summer’s accident, to a complete refurbishing of more bike parts than I could count. The black and chrome were now relieved by blue ghost flames and the words “Daddy’s Princess” on the tank. Lenny’s handiwork.
Once I pushed it outside I flicked a rag over the main body of the bike and stepped back to admire it in the sunshine. A beauty, if I did say so myself.
The ride to Granger’s Welding was pleasant, the leather of my chaps, gloves, and vest keeping me toasty in the spring air. I pulled into the gravel lane with care and parked out front, setting my helmet on the ground.
Peering into the interior of the shop, I could see the silhouette of a very large man at the welder, and stepped out of the sun to get a clearer view. He glanced up and moved back from the machine, putting aside the piece he was working on. Pushing his safety helmet off his head, he used one hand to take it off, the other to adjust the handkerchief he’d tied around his head to keep the strap of the helmet from digging into his skull, seeing how he had no hair to protect it. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his cheeks were sucked in to his teeth.
“You heard?” Jermaine finally said.
“Yeah. Jordan here?”
“Nope. Just me. Jethro’s out at a special job in Chalfont. I wouldn’t be here, either, if this job didn’t have to be done by this afternoon.”
I leaned against a table and tipped my head back, my gaze drifting toward the high ceiling. “So where is he?”
“Jordan? Philly. He refused to leave last night until he found that singer.” At the tone of his voice I brought my eyes back to him. “Stella, I didn’t
know.
” He yanked off a heavy glove and rubbed his face roughly.
“You mean about Jordan and Genna?”
He nodded abruptly. “You did?”
“Just last night. I never knew she existed before then as something other than a voice on an album. But there was obviously some kind of tension between them, even though—or maybe because—she already had a boyfriend.”
