Getting Lucky (5 page)

   "I hear you and understand. There was one on the house where I grew up, too. Maybe that's why I was always told to not slam the door," Mamie said.

   Julie poured tea into two recycled jelly glasses filled with ice and set one before her first guest. Mamie had light brown, shoulder-length straight hair she wore feathered around her square face, thin lips, and deep-set green eyes. She wore pink seersucker capris and a T-shirt and sandals.

   "I wanted to welcome you to our part of Texas, but I also came for a couple of other reasons, Julie. I own and operate my late grandmother's shop on the town square. Miss Molly's Shoppe—but most folks just call it Molly's. I do the realty business right out of the shop. In a town this size, you've got to diversify. Anyway, my grandmother died years ago, but she and Edna were friends of a sort. They grew up together up at Illinois Bend, and Edna made jellies and jams and pie filling, about anything that could go in a jar for us to sell. Did pretty good with it most years." She stopped to sip the tea. "There's a cellar under the house. Did I forget to mention that when we talked about it? Don't tell anyone. I'm supposed to do the complete disclosure thing and I forgot. I've only been doing this about a year. Anyway, I'll show you how to get down there."

   Mamie went into the living room and set aside one of the end tables. The carpet had been cut to fit a place about three feet wide and a little longer. "This picks up and this door leads to the cellar where Edna kept the stock that she sold to me. I brought along the price list from last year. Last time I was here, there was still some stock left and I'm running low. Would you sell me what's left?"

   Julie nodded. "Sure. Did she use particular recipes for her stuff?"

   "I'm sure she did and they're probably somewhere in the kitchen. Would you be interested in keeping up the business? I'll buy all I can sell and that's a lot. You want to lead the way, or you want me to go first?"

   Julie took the first step into the dark cellar. Mamie followed and flipped a switch at the bottom of the narrow staircase. The sides of the cellar were concrete and the floor was poured concrete. It was cool without being musty. There had to be vents somewhere. Julie found them up near the top of the shelves, which lined every possible inch and were filled with jams, jellies, canned fruit, pie filling, picante sauce, and other home-canned delicacies. There were so many names on the fancy little labels that Julie couldn't possibly remember them all.

   Mamie picked up an empty box and began to fill it. "I'll take pepper jelly. You'd be surprised how well it sells to tourists. I've been out of picante sauce for two weeks so I'd best have half a dozen jars of that."

   "Where did she get the labels?" Julie asked.

   "I have no idea but I bet there's paperwork some where around here. You got a computer? With just a little work, I bet you could make them yourself and you could change the label to fit whatever you want to call your business."

   "I'll have to think about it," Julie said, but she was already thinking about making squash relish from the abundant crop of yellow squash in the garden.

   They carried two boxes up to the living room and set them on the table—twenty-four quart jars of merchan dise. Mamie wrote her a check for a hundred and eighty dollars. "I sell this stuff for $14.95 a jar and can't keep it on the shelves. I pay seven-fifty a jar for it. If you want to go up on your prices should you decide to keep the business going, that's fine. I'll just adjust my prices when you do yours."

   "I'll think about it for sure. I love gardening and canning. I cleaned out her closets yesterday. Know anyone who'd be interested in having her clothing?" Julie asked.

   "There's a Goodwill store over in Wichita Falls. I'm going over there tomorrow for a meeting. Want me to take them for you?"

   Julie refilled their glasses. "That would be great."

   "Cute kid out there. She looks just like Lizzy Luckadeau."

   "She's so excited about having someone else around with that streak in her hair that it's all I hear about," Julie said. She didn't want to discuss the fact that her daughter belonged to Griffin. She hadn't even had time to process the information much less put any part of it into words.

   Mamie finished the last bite of her second piece of pie and began, "Now about Edna. Back during the Civil War, some folks came out here and settled at Illinois Bend. Called it Wardville at first but then, when the post office was granted, they named it Illinois Bend because a lot of them came from that state. It had about three hundred people back then. That would be back when my great-something grandmother was born. She and Edna's grandmother knew each other and the next generation were friends and then Molly and Edna were born right before the flu epidemic of 1918. They would have been about two or three years old then. They talked about losing relatives during that time."

   "Why did she never marry?" Julie asked.

   "It was the Lassiter curse. Her aunt got left at the

altar by a man and died an old maid and then the exact same thing happened to Edna. She never talked about her experience, but Granny Molly knew about it. She said she was to stand up with Edna and the night before the wedding, the man took off without even telling her why. He joined the army during World War II and when he came home he didn't try to explain. The feud actually started back when her aunt was left high and dry at the altar. The strange thing was that Edna fell in love with one of that man's relatives, like it happened back in the Hatfield and McCoy days. Then he pulled the same stunt and Edna just holed up on her five acres and died an old maid."

   "That's sad," Julie said.

   "Not really. She was a spunky old girl. Said her piece and didn't let anyone get ahead of her, even if she was a hermit of sorts."

   "Wow! Since I bought her property does that make me a Hatfield or a McCoy?"

   "Hmmm," Mamie eyed her closely. "I think you look more like a McCoy with that red hair. Got to be Irish or Scottish blood in there somewhere. I bet you've got a hellacious temper, too," Mamie teased.

   "You a prophet or a fortune teller?" Julie asked.

   Mamie giggled. "Now, onto the other reason why I stopped by today. We've got this big fight going on in the city. We have a Fourth of July shindig and no one is against that; it's solid tradition. But I'm heading up a committee to do a thing for the holidays. Maybe a parade on the Saturday after Thanksgiving to kick off the season. A drawing on Saturdays with tickets you get when you shop in town. Something to bring some winter trade back to Saint Jo. I think it's a wonderful idea. Old folks like Clarice Utley don't want any part of the thing. Come to the City meeting with me next Thursday night. I'd love to have some young folks, especially teachers, to help me out. But right now I'm running late, so I'd best be going. You think about the canning business and you don't let that McCoy temper get the best of you," Mamie said.

   Julie walked her to the door. "Wouldn't think of letting the McCoy temper have upper rein. I'm going to spend the afternoon searching for those recipes and deciding if I want to make jelly."

   "See you later. I live just up the road a ways and my shop is open six days a week most of the time. Tomorrow morning I'll open late because I have to go to Wichita Falls. Where's those clothes?" Mamie said.

   "In the shed. I'll haul them around to the front. Stop by anytime. I'd love the company," Julie said.

   They quickly threw the sacks into Mamie's car and she waved as she drove away.

Lizzy rode her pony right up to the fence line and looked at the little girl on the quilt playing with a whole litter of yellow kittens. She slung her leg over the side, slid off the Shetland pony, and tethered it to a mesquite tree. She wasn't supposed to ride past the fence, and she'd get in big trouble if her father found out that she'd not only gone through the gate but ridden more than a mile down the road to Annie's house.

   But the idea of knowing where Annie lived drew her to the house like ants to the syrup bottle in the pantry. She had to make sure her new friend was aware of the witch who used to live in the house and tell her to be careful. That mean old lady might make her a spawn, too.

   Annie looked up to see the little girl sitting on the ground staring through the chain link fence at her. "Lizzy! How did you get here?"

   "I rode my horse. I'm not supposed to ride him outside of our ranch, but I saw where you lived and I wanted to talk to you."

   "Come around the end of the fence and play with me. I'll show you my kittens," Annie said.

   Lizzy shook her head. "I can't come in your yard but we can talk. Daddy says we're like doubles. He says that there's somebody out there who looks just like somebody else and we are like that."

   "My momma said the same thing. Do you believe it?"

   "I guess so. Did anyone ever call you a skunk?" Lizzy asked.

   Annie blushed. "A little boy did one time in the grocery store."

   "He was a mean little boy just like those little girls were mean that called me one. Hey, I got black and white kittens. Want to trade? I'll give you a black and white one for a yellow one," Lizzy said.

   Annie nodded. "You got a black and white one on your horse?"

   "No, I didn't bring it today. But I'll take one of yours and bring mine back to you another day."

   "Okay. Come around to the front yard and there's a gate. You can pick out whichever one you want, but don't want this one because I really want to keep him because he's my favorite," Annie said.

   Lizzy shook her head again. "I can't come in your yard. A witch lives there in that house. My Nana Rita said so. I'm afraid of the witch. She called me a spawn."

   Annie left the kittens and went to the fence. She looped her small fingers in the holes and looked right into Lizzy's eyes. "Are you trying to scare me? You can't be my friend if you do, and anyway, what's a spawn?"

   Lizzy walked up to the fence, laced her fingers over Annie's and whispered, "I'm tellin' you the truth and I don't know what a spawn is but the devil makes them 'cause she said I was a devil's spawn. I saw her at church lots of times, and I rode my pony up to the trees and watched her but I didn't tell Daddy. She had gray hair and a long nose. She looked at me real mean and never did talk to my daddy and her name was Edna Lassyturn. She died but her ghost still lives here because she was so mean."

   "My momma don't know she bought a witch's house. I'll have to tell her."

   Lizzy nodded very seriously. "Nana Rita said nothing could kill something that mean."

   "Who is Nana Rita?" Annie asked.

   "She's kind of like my grandma, only I have one of those, too. She lives in… I can't remember but it's a long way to her house. She's Daddy's momma and I call her Granny, but Nana Rita lives in a house on the ranch and she comes every day to cook and keep me."

   "I had one of those. She lived in the house beside ours, and I went there every day. I called her Grammy. I miss her but I'm glad my momma bought this place because I found you for my friend and we both got a white streak in our hair," Annie said.

   Lizzy touched the white forelock. "It's my lucky streak."

Annie touched her hair. "Is mine lucky, too?"

   "We'll ask Jane. She's Slade's wife now. She's my friend and I like her a lot. She'll tell us if yours is a lucky streak. You think you can put a yellow kitten through the fence so I don't have to come in there?"

   "Yes, I can. There's a hole. I found it yesterday when the momma cat got under the fence. I can give it to you back there. Which one do you want?" Annie whispered so the ghost of that Lassyturn woman couldn't hear.

   Lizzy pointed toward the back side of the yard. "Can you bring them all back there and we'll look at them?"

   Annie picked up five squirming kittens and carried them to the place where Lizzy stopped. They sat down, one on each side of the fence, passing kittens back and forth and giggling like only five-year-old little girls can.

   After half an hour Lizzy had made her choice and mounted up, waved good-bye to Annie, and rode back toward the ranch house. Lizzy was happy until she looked up and saw the car in the driveway.
She
was there. Lizzy determined she'd stay in the barn until
she
was gone. Sometimes her daddy was so stupid. Nana Rita even said he was when it came to
her.

   She stayed out in the barn with the momma cat, who accepted the yellow one right in with her three black and white babies without so much as a slap or a meow. Lizzy played with all of them until her stomach started growling and she had to go inside.

   "Where have you been?" Griffin asked. "We were ready to come looking for you."

   "I was playing with my kittens," Lizzy said.

   "Well, get washed up for supper. Rachel is staying with us. Isn't that nice?"

   Lizzy dragged her heavy heart back to the bathroom without answering. She could think of nothing worse than Rachel staying for dinner. She lathered up her hands and tiptoed so she could see in the mirror. Looking back at her was Annie, or so she pretended.

   "She's mean when Daddy isn't looking. You are my friend. What would you do?" Lizzy giggled at what came to her mind, which she was sure came from Annie in the mirror.

   The three of them sat down at the big table in the dining room for supper.

   "So what did you do today?" Rachel asked.

   Lizzy shrugged.