Coal Black Blues (5 page)

After the delightful meal, Neil suggested they visit Capitol Street, a venue lined with bookstores, galleries, eclectic boutiques, coffee bars, and more. Caroline agreed and although she hadn’t expected much, Capitol Street pleased and surprised her. They meandered along hand in hand, window shopping and making an occasional foray into one of the shops. Some had Halloween displays with skeletons and ghosts. On those, black and orange were the predominant colors. Caroline bought a few books so she would have something to read, and Neil bought a copy of one of her choices.

“We can read them and talk about them,” he said. Caroline nodded.

“I like that idea, very much.”

She deposited the check from Dylan into her bank account at the ATM. With it and the settlement from the divorce, which had been considerably less, she had a little breathing room, at least for a while.

As the afternoon waned, they headed home, first to her house where she made coffee for Neil. They spent a lazy hour talking at the kitchen table, reminiscing about the past and avoiding the powerful kiss. Around five, Neil stood up.

“I’d better go, Carrie. I get up early come morning, and I have a full day tomorrow. If I’m not too tired, I’ll come by the store on my way home and see how things are going.”

“I’m going to put up a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window. And call the suppliers to order more goods.”

He nodded. “The milk truck and bread man should be by anyway, so you won’t have to worry about that. The gas truck should show up on Wednesday and you ought to be good ’til then, at least. Don’t hire anybody until you ask me about them. I know about everybody and you probably won’t, not now. Thanks for going up to Charleston with me. I had a good day, a fine one.”

“I did, too.”

When Neil walked to the front door, Caroline trailed him. When he paused to put on his jacket, she waited and then grasped the collar to propel him toward her. Before he could say anything, she kissed him, this time with fierce need and more than a little passion. Her mouth devoured his lips and he wrapped her in his arms. Then he gave back as good, maybe more. After their lips unlocked, Neil held her close enough she could hear his rapid heartbeat. For a moment, she knew almost perfect contentment and sighed, a slow, satisfied sound. Neil kissed her again, this time just a light peck on the forehead and matched his gaze to hers.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do about you, Carrie Reaburn.” His voice rasped, husky with emotion. “I never expected you’d come back or that you wouldn’t be married. Once I thought … well, it doesn’t matter. You know how it was, back then, between us. But I went to the Army and gave up on the idea I would ever be a family man.”

His words troubled Caroline. “Why not, Neil?”

He turned his mouth downward in a frown. “I got married, after basic training, to my drill sergeant’s daughter, but it didn’t work out. She was too immature and I was, I don’t know, still hung up on you. Then after I got hurt so bad, I just figured I’d be a loner all my life. I hadn’t met anyone I thought I could be with for a long haul so I came home, made a life for myself, and figured I’d live this way till I died. But you came back.”

“Are you sorry I did?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

Neil never hesitated. “No, God, no, I’m not. I’m glad, Carrie. I figured we could be good friends, but it’s still there, some of what we always had, and I’m not sure how to deal with that. I want to spend every damn minute I’m not working with you but I gotta think about all this. I’m scared I’ll smother you and ruin any chances we might have to move forward. It’s not you, honey, it’s me. I told you I’m damaged goods and I meant that.”

His intent wasn’t clear, not to her. “So what do you want to do?”

If he says quit hanging around together and that he would rather not see me or get involved, I will be hurt and want to die. But I’m stronger than that, I learned that with Dylan, and I’ll go on, but I won’t be happy. And the loneliness will likely make me bitter.

“I want to take things slow, see what happens with no pressure.” His tone became almost desperate. “You have to understand, I’m not the whole man you knew years ago. I told you, I got as many scars inside as out. Sometimes things bother me and sometimes they make me near crazy.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Neil nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. PTSD. It’s damned hard to live with sometimes and I don’t want to make things difficult for you.”

“You won’t,” she told him.
And I want to make things easier for him.
“So, we’ll take it slow. I promise I won’t try to push faster than you can handle. Deal?”

A hesitant smile touched his lips and he lifted one hand to trace the line of her cheek with his fingers. “Deal, Carrie. I’ll see you tomorrow after work, at least for a few minutes.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Take care, Neil.”

Caroline wanted to tell him she loved him, to tell him to get plenty of rest, to relax and trust, but the words wouldn’t come. They were a jumble in her mind, not ready to speak, not yet. She watched him walk to his old truck and drive away, waving until he passed out of sight.

Then she went inside, sat down in her Granny’s old rocker, put her hands over her face and cried. Her tears were for Neil and all he’d endured and for her own scarred heart. They were for the future they planned to have and lost and for the uncertainty of the future straight ahead.

Afterward, as dusk arrived and shadows loomed in every corner of the old house, Caroline didn’t turn on the lamps. Instead, she fumbled over to the old cabinet record player, found the records on the shelf beneath, and put on a much scratched, worn favorite disc of hymns. The voices of various artists, all well known, all old favorites, sang into the night and sometimes she sang along, too.

Far away in the distance, the long, lonesome train whistles of the ceaseless coal trains echoed in the night and when she slept, Caroline didn’t dream at all.

Chapter Six

Monday morning, fortified by strong coffee, Caroline opened the store on time. She put up her sign in the window and by noon, she had three completed applications in hand, using a form she’d found online and printed at home. The bread delivery truck arrived and refilled the empty shelves with bread, buns, and cupcakes. Her coolers once again held plenty of milk and dairy products. Customers came and went in a steady stream. Mothers showed up with kids in tow on their way to the school bus, buying mini donuts and individual milk or juice. Some of them waited until the kids had gone and came to browse. Old men gathered, and when she remembered an ancient card table tucked away in the storeroom, Caroline set it up with some folding chairs in the corner opposite from the cash register. They soon were settled down playing cards, mostly pitch and swapping stories. Long before the yellow buses brought back the kids, she had two high-school students who drove their own vehicles apply, and although Neil had asked her to wait, Caroline hired one of them.

Jackson Curtis impressed her enough that she had no hesitation in offering him a job.

“You can start Wednesday at four,” she told him. “And work until ten o’clock if that’s all right. I don’t want to get in the way of your homework or school activities.”

“It won’t, ma’am,” said Jackson who told her he preferred to be called Jack. “Thank you.”

She rang up purchases, talked about the weather, and made light conversation until her voice grew hoarse. As the day wound toward evening, Caroline watched for Neil and he arrived around four thirty, dirty, his step dragging, and eyes heavy with fatigue. Although she’d steeled herself throughout the day not to fuss over him, Caroline came around the counter to greet him.

“You look like you had a hard day,” she said.

“Aren’t they all?”

When Caroline reached out her hand, he held up both his. “I’m filthy,” he said. “If you touch me, you’ll get coal dust and dirt all over that pretty blouse. I thought about going home to clean up before I stopped in, but I figured if I got there once, I wouldn’t want to leave again. How was your day?”

“It went pretty good.”

“Shelves look like the delivery trucks came.”

“Most of them did. And I hired my first employee.”

Beneath the grime, Neil quirked one eyebrow upward and said, “I hope it was somebody dependable.”

“Jackson Curtis.”

He shot her a smile. “Jack’s a good kid. He’ll do all right. How late are you staying open?”

She had already revised her notion of remaining open until midnight. “I think I’ll close at six tonight. Once Jack starts, I’m going to try for ten o’clock. Maybe eventually until midnight but that’s going to be a while.”

Neil nodded. “I’m glad you’re closing early. You need the rest, too, Carrie.”

Caroline did and couldn’t deny it. “True. Are you on the way home now?”

The moment she asked it, she recognized it had been a dumb question, but he didn’t comment on that, just answered in a voice as faded as worn denim.

“Yeah, I am. I thought I’d grab a sandwich or a pack of bologna or something, then go home, clean up and lay down. I started that book last night.”

“I did, too. Did you like it?”

He made a brief laugh. “I did right up until I fell asleep and dropped it on my head. I’ll probably try to read some more tonight if I can. I’m gonna go grab what I need and get out of here so you can wrap things up.”

Caroline acknowledged him with a nod, then accepted payment for gasoline from two customers and rang up a pack of diapers for a harried-seeming young mom. By then, Neil had returned with a loaf of bread, package of lunch meat, and a soda pop.
Not much of a meal after working all day.
But she bit her lip and kept silent. An idea sparked, one she promised herself she’d pursue farther after she got home.

“See you tomorrow, Carrie,” he said after she sacked his purchases.

“Goodnight, Neil.” She ached to say so much more but didn’t. He nodded and amidst the rush of customers returning home to Coaltown after work, she missed his leaving. His truck was there and the next chance she had time to look, he had gone.

Closing at six proved more difficult than Caroline planned. Customers kept trickling until after six thirty when she turned off the pumps and dimmed the lights. She rang up the last few purchases and locked up for the night. Weary and bleary eyed, she made her way home and heated a frozen turkey pot pie in the oven.
I’m not much better than Neil but at least my supper is hot.

As she ate, Caroline remembered her idea back at the store. If Neil didn’t eat a decent meal after a hard day’s work, she could provide something at the store. After she finished, she searched the cupboards for her grandma’s old Harvest Orange Crockpot. After washing away the dust and accumulated dirt from years of storage, Caroline put two cans of chicken broth, canned chicken breast, some diced baby carrots, a chopped onion and seasoning into the pot. She would let it simmer on low all night long.

Although tired, she took time to make egg noodles the way her grandmother always did, without a recipe, with flour, an egg, dash of salt and a pinch of baking powder. Caroline rolled them out to dry, leaving them thicker than usual to make what Granny called “cut dumplings” in the morning. She would add them to the pot and carry it to work, leaving it to slow cook all day long so when Neil came by after work, she could offer something hot and satisfying. For a second, she wondered what she’d do if he didn’t come, but her instincts said he would.

With tomorrow’s supper on the make, Caroline took a bath and retired. She woke before the alarm, finished the dumplings, loaded the slow cooker and packed some old heavy bowls. At the store, customers arrived almost before she had the pumps or lights on. The hours moved with speed, business keeping her too busy to think about much of anything except the store. By the time she spotted Neil’s truck parking out front, Caroline’s feet ached and so did her back.

He managed to arrive in the slack between after school and the after work rush. His arrival reminded her of old times, when she worked here as a teen and he’d come by to see her. Caroline greeted him with a genuine smile, noting he’d made an effort to wash most of the coal dust from his face and hands. “Hi, Neil,” she sang out. “How did your day go?”

“Hard,” he replied and she resolved to think of another greeting. But, before she could say anything more, he offered a small smile. “Tolerable, though, thanks for asking. How’s business?”

“It’s booming. I guess Coaltown missed having a local store. I think everyone in this part of the county’s been here.”

“I imagine so.”

Two pickups and three cars were at the pumps. In a short time, she’d be ringing up their fuel purchases along with whatever other purchases they might make. Before Neil could leave or she got too busy, Caroline asked, “Are you hungry?”

He leaned against the counter and shut his eyes for a brief moment. There were bags beneath them and heavy shadows. After a moment, though, he opened his deep gray eyes, a contrast to his pale face and dark beard stubble. “I’m near starved, but I have the rest of that baloney I bought at home. I just came by to see you for a minute. You’re fixing to get busy so I probably should go.”

“I have chicken and cut dumplings in the slow cooker behind me,” Caroline said. She inclined her head toward the bright orange pot. “You’re welcome to have a bowl, if you have time. You can sit at the table or take it into the office if you’d rather. Come around the counter and I’ll dish you some.”

Neil shook his head. “Carrie, you do beat all. Yeah, I’d like some. Probably save my life or something. When did you drag that table out here?”

“Yesterday for some of the old men,” she told him. She turned around, served him a bowl of dumplings and handed him a spoon. “They liked it.”

“Good idea,” he said. “Thanks, Carrie, for the food.”

He sat down at the battered card table and she watched as he bowed his head for a silent blessing. Then he took the first bite and grinned. She turned back to the cash register and by the time she had a free moment, he’d finished. “Do you want a little more?”

“Maybe just a bit and I’ll buy a cup of coffee to go with it.”

While he enjoyed seconds, a tall, lanky miner sauntered in and stood beside Neil. “Damn, son, that looks pretty good. Where did you get it?”

Mouth filled with dumplings, Neil pointed at Caroline.

“Do you got another bowl of that?” the man asked. “How much is it?”

“Well, Bill, it’s four dollars,” Neil said before she could answer. Caroline spread her hands apart, a silent query ‘of what the hell’. He shot her a look she remembered very well, one that meant ‘let me carry this one’.

“A bargain at the price,” Bill said. Caroline, who now recognized him as Billy Wilson, a classmate of Neil’s, dished up a bowl and rang up the sale. Bill joined Neil and within a few minutes, she’d sold every bit of the dumplings. Two more miners bought some and one elderly man who confided, “I haven’t had chicken and dumplings since my wife got the Alzheimer’s and went to live in a nursing home over at Charleston.”

At six, the crowds thinned and then were gone, leaving Caroline and Neil. He remained at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, shoulders relaxed, and he wore a contented expression. After she shut down the store, she joined him, shaking her head.

“I made that mostly for you, you know.”

“I figured, but you made twenty bucks that you otherwise wouldn’t have,” Neil answered. “I ain’t the only hungry miner round here. You could probably do well with offering some hot food.”

Caroline nodded. “You have a point. I know a lot of convenience stores have chicken strips and hot dogs and catfish and things. It’d take some work to get it going, though.”

“I think it would be worth it. I want to see you make the old store into a success.”

“Well, so do I. I can see the community needed something like this.”

“And if it makes you a living, you’re more likely to stay.”

Although his tone remained soft, his simple statement told her plenty about how he felt.

“I’m planning to, Neil.”

“Good.” He yawned. “I need to get going before I fall asleep here at this table. Let me tote your stuff out to the car for you, though.”

After the crock pot and dishes were tucked into a cardboard box in the rear floorboard, Neil lingered. “Are you planning to cook something tomorrow?”

She made a rapid mental assessment of what she had on hand at home and nodded. “Sure. I’m not sure what, but yes, I will.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Neil took a step closer and slid one arm around her waist, careful not to rub against her in his mining garments. He kissed her, slow and with a sense of longing. Caroline didn’t think she’d ever had a sweeter kiss from anyone. “Thank you, honey,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Goodnight, Neil. Sleep well.”

He had started to walk away but he turned back toward her. “I just might for once,” he said. “’Night, Carrie.”

The next day, she brought scalloped potatoes with ham, rich with cheese. Neil and two other customers proclaimed them tasty, but he praised the navy beans seasoned with bacon grease the way her grandparents always cooked on the following day even more. On Thursday after Jack took his second shift, Caroline was confident enough he could handle the store that she headed for the next town over, larger than Coaltown, that had a small grocery store. She bought food she could prepare in the slow cooker over the next few days.

It became habit to sit down and eat with Neil when he arrived. Although they weren’t always alone, they talked about the store, about life, and everything in between. On Thursday evening, over meatballs and sauce, Neil asked her if she had hired anyone else. They’d discussed a few applicants and he had given his approval on three of them.

“I did,” Caroline said. “I hired Alexander Akins, the retired Marine, to work weekend afternoon and evening shifts.”

Neil nodded. “He’s dependable. That’s good. Anyone else?”

“Mattie Millikin for days and Bertha Pennington for both days and evenings.”

Mattie, a mother of four teenagers, needed the job to make ends meet, and retired hair dresser Bertha Pennington craved conversation with the public. Both women appeared to be capable and Neil said, “They’re both good. How late are you staying open now?”

“We’re trying to be open until eight PM every night if Jack can handle it, and so far he has. I still hope to extend to ten, maybe later but we’ll see.”

Jack, currently on duty behind the counter, appeared to be in his element. “It looks like he’s doing awesome to me.”

“He is.”

“So you can start going home earlier.”

“I don’t know. Tomorrow night is Halloween. Maybe I should be here to hand out treats.”

Neil put down his spoon and reached for her hand. “I wouldn’t even mess with that trick or treating. Kids will run you out of candy before you can snap your fingers. And you’re gonna have to get out of here earlier, Carrie. You’ve been staying till you close at eight, then going home and spending half the night cooking. Then you’re up at four…”