Coal Black Blues (12 page)

Cracked linoleum covered all the floors and the place stank of damp. The fuzz of mildew climbed the wall on one side of the shower, and she made a face at it. Hard water stains discolored the toilet, but overall, the place, although basic and in rough shape, was clean.

As Neil gathered up his miner’s clothing, his hard hat, head lamp, gloves, and steel-toed boots, he kicked aside what Caroline thought to be a tissue aside. “That must have been a big snake.”

Her voice went up the scales. “Snake? There’s a snake in here?”

He laughed. “It’s just the skin but he must’ve been in here.”

Caroline shuddered. “I’m ready to go, soon as you are.”

“Almost.”

Neil packed up his gear and a few other things, then they drove away. Caroline couldn’t look back. She didn’t want to see the place again, not even behind them, and she hated the fact he’d lived there.

As if he knew her thoughts, he said, “Let’s go home and you can fry me some chicken.”

She scooted beside him. “Nothing sounds better.”

Caroline liked the fact he called her house ‘home’ and willed it would be so, for a long time, if not forever.

Chapter Fourteen

Monday passed slowly, one of the longest days Caroline had ever endured. Neil had risen early, long before dawn, and been gone to the mine before she had managed to roll out of bed. All her plans to send him back to work with a hot breakfast had failed to happen. If he hadn’t plugged in the coffee pot himself, Neil wouldn’t even have had coffee.

Carrie’s Corner, which had run smoothly under Alexander’s hand, erupted in chaos almost as soon as she set foot inside. One of the Bunn coffee makers quit working after the first pot of the day, making the second one be in almost constant service to provide enough coffee for customers. Mattie, working day shift, discovered a nest of brown recluse spiders in the store room and went on a frenzy chasing them outside with a broom. Everyone who lived anywhere with twenty miles of Coaltown apparently decided it was the day to get gas, buy sandwiches, or otherwise shop at the store, so lines remained long and business brisk throughout the day.

Caroline worked, but she worried about Neil constantly. Although he’d recovered from his bout with pneumonia, he hadn’t recovered his full strength yet. The negative effects of the mines on his already damaged lungs were a major concern. Now that she’d come to her senses and returned home, she wanted to be with Neil for the rest of her life. Although she avoided any mention of marriage, she coveted the commitment and she had realized she wanted children, something she’d never considered with Dylan.

In her absence, Alexander had stocked the store with candy canes, both traditional and flavored, with little packages of mistletoe, a cardboard display of stocking stuffers, everything from mini-flashlights to costume jewelry. The dairy distributor delivered cartons of egg nog with the milk products. Around three o’clock, Caroline paused long enough to drink a soda and eat a ham sandwich.

“I hadn’t realized Christmas is so soon,” she said to Mattie.

“Three weeks,” the woman said with a shake of her head. “I’ve had the kids some toys on layaway since October. I’ll pay them off and get them next time I go into town. Jim always had a little tree with lights and a few ornaments in the store. It was pretty and made it kinda festive in here.”

“I’ll have to see if I can find one,” Caroline said. Neil must have been making it all right, or he would have come to the store. “I thought maybe a few poinsettias would be pretty too.”

“They would! And maybe some electric candles for the front window. You ought to ask old Earl if he will come down and be Santa this year again. That’s something your uncle Jim always did.”

“Santa Claus?”

Mattie nodded. “Last Saturday before Christmas, Jim always had Earl here so kids could tell Santa what they wanted and we’d take instant pictures to give the parents for free. Earl’s got a real nice suit and everything.”

The dull headache dogging Caroline all day long increased. Right now, she didn’t want to think about Christmas trees or decorations or Santa Claus. “I’ll see if I can get in touch with him tomorrow.”

Two hours later, running later than she had expected, Neil drove up and parked. From the moment he climbed out of the truck, Caroline saw his fatigue. He moved slowly, like an old man, and when he came into the store, his lopsided smile wasn’t genuine. She came around the counter to meet him, but he held up both hands to keep her at bay.

“I’m dirty as homemade sin,” he said. “I just stopped by to tell you I’m heading home to clean up and I’ll see you at the house. How long you staying?”

Caroline glanced at Jackson, who had relieved Mattie at four. He nodded and she exhaled a long sigh. “I’m ready anytime. I’ll be right behind you.”

Neil closed his eyes and nodded. “Good. I’ll see you soon, honey.”

“You look so tired.”

“I am, Carrie.”

She wanted to kiss him but didn’t. Instead, she watched him leave and planned to be five minutes behind him. Five became thirty and dark had fallen by the time she turned into the drive. Neil’s truck sat in the usual spot. Caroline found Neil’s gear stacked on the porch beside his filthy clothes and entered the house. A good fire blazed in the woodstove. He must have poked it up and added wood.

“Neil?”

When he didn’t respond, she cocked her head to listen and smiled. A few splashes from upstairs told her his location. She climbed the stairs and poked her head into the bathroom. Neil sat in the old claw-foot tub with most of his body submerged. His head rested against the back rim and his eyes were closed. The water had turned black from the dust, but she noticed he’d been using Lava soap. She remembered the grittiness of it from childhood. Her daddy had often used it and so had she, when she became extra dirty.

“Hey, baby,” she said. Neil jerked and sat up, hair wet and dripping. “Were you asleep?”

“I might have dozed off,” he said. “What time is it?”

“Almost six o’clock,” she told him. “How was work?”

He frowned. “It was just like always, same old, same old.”

“How do you feel? I worried about you all day.”

“Other than being dog-ass tired and out of strength, I’m all right. All I need is something to eat and rest.”

Caroline didn’t think he looked very well, but she said nothing. “I didn’t start anything this morning and I forgot to get anything out of the freezer. How about bacon, eggs, and toast?”

“That sounds good. I need to get out of this tub while I’ve got the strength to climb out.”

“Then I’ll start cooking.”

She turned to go. “Carrie?”

“What?”

“Don’t you have any old towels? I don’t want to ruin these good ones.”

“I can always buy more, Neil. Those came from Wal-Mart, not some fancy department store.”

She fried the bacon crisp and cooked the eggs in the bacon grease. Caroline buttered the toast as Neil came downstairs, in sweat pants, clean white T-shirt, and a flannel shirt worn over it. “The food’s almost ready. Are you cold?”

Caroline wasn’t. Between the wood stove radiating heat and cooking, she found the house quite warm, but Neil nodded. “Yeah, a little. It seems like the cold seeped into my bones down in the mine.”

“It probably did,” Caroline said. She wanted to scold him for going back when he could have made another choice but refrained. If she did, they might fight, and she didn’t want to argue. Instead, she told him about her day while they ate the simple meal. He mopped up the last of his over-easy eggs with toast as she talked about holiday decorations for the store and Mattie’s suggestion that Earl Williams come play Santa.

Neil glanced up. “When is Christmas?”

“Mattie said three weeks.” Caroline glanced up at the calendar on the wall. “It appears to be exactly three weeks from today. I didn’t realize it was so soon.”

“Me either.”

His sentences had been brief since the bath, as if the last of his energy drained away with the water.

“What do you usually do for Christmas? You told Rob you wouldn’t go to your folks in Texas.”

“I won’t,” Neil replied. “And most years, I just sleep, maybe watch movies or something. If I go anywhere, it’s to dinner at Uncle Sammy and Aunt Mart’s house, but I hadn’t even done that in a couple of years. Why? Are you going to Baltimore to your mama’s?”

He spit out the longest sentence he’d spoken yet with machine gun speed.
He’s still not convinced I’m not going to run out on him.
“No, I’m not planning to and I won’t. I want to be where you are. I’d like to have Christmas here, and if you want to invite any of your family, you can. If you want to go to your uncle’s house, I’ll go with you if I’m welcome.”

Neil scrubbed his face with both hands and sighed. “You know you would be, but I like the idea of having it here. I reckon it’ll be plenty different than what you had up there in Virginia.”

Dear Lord, those years with Dylan had been everything she hated about the holidays. They always put up an eight-foot artificial tree, flocked with fake snow, and positioned it in the bay window overlooking the street and on display so all the neighbors could be impressed. Each year, they decorated it—or Caroline did—with a color theme. One year had been blue and silver, another time peach and turquoise, red and gold, and once black and white. December always brought a round of cocktail parties and gatherings, things she hated but Dylan adored. They had to attend, he always said, to meet and greet. Then they had to host a party to reciprocate. Dylan didn’t trust her hillbilly cooking skills so they had hired a caterer. On Christmas Eve, they went to a family get-together at his parents’ home in Washington. And on Christmas Day, they hosted another catered affair. Her mother and Frank usually made an appearance and so did their closest friends. Dylan’s partners and business associates came, too.

Caroline had always become maudlin, missing the warmth and depth of her childhood Christmas celebrations when gifts were given not for show or to impress but to please the recipient.

“Lord, I hope so. Someday I’ll tell you about it but not now. I don’t even like to think about it. I want a Christmas tree and a good dinner and you. I think Granny’s box of ornaments is probably still in the attic.”

Neil shut his eyes and pushed his empty plate away, his knife and fork on top. He put his head in his hands. “Sounds good,” he mumbled.

“What’s the matter?” Her voice came out sharper than a kitchen knife.

“I’m just woozy,” he said. “I’m so tired I can’t even think straight and my head feels like it’s full of cotton. I need to lay down, honey, before I collapse.”

Caroline removed the dishes to the sink and hovered. “Do you want to go up to bed?”

He lifted his head. “I doubt I could manage the stairs right now.”

She put her hand across his forehead, afraid it might be feverish, but his skin was cool. Neil shook his head. “I ain’t sick, Carrie, just exhausted. I’ll be all right in the morning. I’ll sleep down here.”

“Then I will, too.” She had to be nearby in case he needed her.

The smile he flashed her direction touched her. Neil made his unsteady way to the recliner and tossed himself into it. Caroline cleaned up after the simple meal and by the time she joined him, he slept, deep enough to snore a little. There were tears in her eyes and unshed ones tight in her throat, but she held them back as she covered him with quilts. She went upstairs and brought two pillows she tucked under his head. She wiped the black ring left after his bath and cleaned the tub. Then she fed the fire and sat down, too distracted to read or watch television. Before she eventually put on pajamas and slept, too, she reflected it would be a long, hard week.

In the morning, Caroline woke when Neil rattled around in the kitchen. Her body resisted getting up, especially when she noticed the time was four thirty. A series of noises followed by whispered cussing roused her.

“Neil? What are you doing?”

“I’m making coffee, then my lunch.”

Her feet slid into moccasin style slippers and she headed for the dark kitchen.

“I made it last night, after you went to sleep. Turn on the light.”

He did and the sudden burst of artificial brilliance almost blinded her. She walked up to him and put her arms around him in a hug. Neil tilted her face upward and kissed her, slow and sweet. “Good morning, Carrie.”

“Good morning. Do you feel better?”

Fatigue still haunted his face and he had dark circles beneath both eyes despite hours of sleep, but he nodded. “A good night’s sleep helped. Will’s gonna stop by and pick me up. We’re on the same shift and he comes right past here anyway. He’ll bring me home, too, so when you’re done at the store, I’ll see you here.”

Caroline struggled to assimilate it all without coffee. “Okay,” she told him. “I’ll be here a while yet. I thought I’d make chicken and dumplings, put them in the Crockpot for supper.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Would you like breakfast before you shower?”

Neil laughed. “I’d love a hot breakfast, whatever you want to fix, but I ain’t showering. I’ll be filthy almost as soon as I get there so it wouldn’t make any sense. I’m going to shave, though.”

“I’ll have something ready by the time you come back down.”

Caroline popped open a can of what her Papa had called ‘hypocrite biscuits” and fried the rest of the bacon. She scrambled a couple of eggs and added a little cheese so when Neil came down, dressed except for his safety harness and hard hat, breakfast was ready. He drank two cups of coffee to wash it down and gathered up his lunch pail.

“Will should be here anytime, so I’m going to look out for him,” he said. “Have a good day at the store, honey.”

She caught his face between her hands and kissed him. “You be careful and if you get too tired or don’t feel well, have Will bring you home. Or call me and I’ll come get you. Okay?”

“All right, but I’ll be fine,” he said, then added what were usually rare words for him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A horn blasted through the morning quiet and Neil waved as he headed out the door. Although she couldn’t explain quite why, Caroline sat down at the table and indulged in a short cry. She knew Neil wasn’t completely recovered, and if he asked Will for a ride, then he hadn’t felt up to driving himself. But Caroline also knew how stubborn he could be, worse than a sullen old mule, and that he would go to the mine if he died trying to work his shift.
I don’t know what he’s trying to prove, but he doesn’t need to prove anything to me.