Love Lift Me (8 page)

“I
was away,” I answered slowly. “I had no idea.”

“Ol’
Mister Reid was goin’ nuts on the TV, tellin’ everybody that if he had to shut
down it would cost Kirkland a couple hundred jobs. I reckon he was more worried
about himself though, knowing that greedy son of a gun. From what I recall, the
government’s been after him to clean that place up since the late eighties.”

“Patterson
Reid gets what he deserves,” Momma said proudly. “It’s a shame about all the
people that might lose their jobs, though. Most of ‘em is just normal,
hard-working people tryin’ to make ends meet.”

I
thought about Cindy Reid and how this news might affect her bad attitude. She
didn’t deserve to watch her family’s fortune go down in flames, but thinking
about the look on her face when she found out about Shane made me turn up one
corner of my mouth into a smile.

“That
whole family is rotten to the core,” I said, and happily scooped up another
spoonful of sweet potatoes.

“That
may be, Lil’ Bit,” Daddy said. “But your new friend that’s come into town is
sure gonna have a lot of folks ‘round these parts all kinds of upset. Ain’t no
telling what some of them might try to do. Patterson’s plant is a big part of
what keeps this whole area from going under and plenty of people depend on a
paycheck from ‘em. You watch yourself.”

Nine

Logan
.

That
was Shane’s last name. I learned it while sitting with Momma at her clinic appointment
the next day when all of a sudden, there he was on the television screen by her
chair. He was being broadcast in high definition, standing in front of the
steps at the old Federal Courthouse in the historic section of downtown
Wilmington. He was dressed in a similar tailored black suit to the one I’d seen
him wearing on the day we met, and for the first time, he was wearing a tie.

His
voice was confident and sure as he answered the questions of about a dozen
reporters. A woman in a conservative, peach-colored outfit and three older gentlemen
also clad in suits stood behind him.

“Mr.
Logan, why has the government brought suit against PCR, the phosphate plant
owned by Patterson Reid?” A balding man asked and shoved his microphone in
front of Shane.

“Patterson
Reid’s plant has poisoned the people, the wildlife, and the land for long
enough,” he said, shaking his finger. “They’ve skirted the regulations time and
again, and the EPA, along with other government agencies, has turned a blind
eye for far too long. We aim to rectify that in the coming days.”

There
was no doubt about it; the EPA was going after Patterson Reid’s phosphate plant
with guns blazing.

“So
that’s him?” mother asked curiously and I affirmed her with a nod. “Well, I can
certainly see why you was so excited before. He’s a handsome one.”

The
sequence at the courthouse ended with a brief statement by Reid’s gaggle of
attorneys, which outnumbered Shane’s team by more than three to one. They
vehemently denied the allegations that the plant had willfully ignored
restrictions set forth governing the expansion into the coastal wetlands, and
denied the environmental testing results as inaccurate. When asked by one
reporter how they intended to fight back, the lead defense attorney simply
stated that they had, “Hired an outside consultant.”

The
rest of mother’s appointment went as usual, and despite her harping that I
needn’t stay there with her, I wasn’t going anywhere. I needed to stay by her
side, even in such a melancholy place, and I couldn’t just come right out and
tell her how worried I was getting about her because she’d only dismiss it
again as me fussing over nothing. In only the last few days she’d lost much
weight; so much so that her cheekbones were plainly visible, becoming sharp
edges that seemed to cast a dark shadow on her weakening smile, and her eyes
had sunk into grayish circles that swallowed them like two sinking brown
pebbles.

At
least her radiation treatments were going well. We went there every day, just across
the street from the clinic, after her chemotherapy was complete. The oncologist
we talked to had good things to say about her progress and didn’t seem overly
worried about her appearance. Whatever bits of cancer hadn’t been removed by
surgery were being zapped away by the radiation or destroyed by the cocktail of
drugs she was getting. As far as he could tell us, it had not spread beyond her
breast or the lymph nodes of that area. Before we left, the oncologist
encouraged her to try and eat more and prescribed a handful of new medicines
for her to try as a combat for the ever-present nausea that was slowly starving
her.

Back
at the house, she adjusted her reading glasses and tried to decipher the
complex language on the pill bottles. “Lorr…azz…eepam,” she said, and
frustrated at that, picked up another bottle. “Pa-hen-ergan. Heck kinda name is
that? Lordy me. Now they’s giving me chicken drugs.”

“That’s
Phenergan
, Momma. It’s to help with your nausea. The other one is for
your nerves. We administered both of them often when I was in nursing school.”

“Ain’t
nothin’ wrong with my nerves! I’m as cool as a cucumber!”

“Not
like that. It’s supposed to help you rest,” I tried to explain.

She
set the bottle down and pushed it away. “Don’t need no help with
that,
Mary
Katherine. All that other stuff they put in my arm wears me plum out, along
with watchin’ all those folks sleep and snore at the clinic.”

I
had to admit, she had a point. Sitting around for hours and being surrounded by
people sleeping had me yawning most of the day. A time might come when she
would need some help getting a little rest though, so I stored the bottle away
in the medicine cabinet.

“How’m
I supposed to keep this thing down?” She asked, holding out the small white
pill between her shaking fingers. I could tell she hated to sound like she was
complaining, but it was a blessing that she was asking for my help at all.

“Just
try your best, Momma. If it stays down for thirty minutes or so, you ought to
start feeling a lot better. If it doesn’t, then we can try again.”

“Ugh.”

With
a look of absolute disgust, she tossed the pill into her mouth and washed it
down with a gulp of apple juice. When she was done, she already looked like she
was getting sick. Thankfully, after some time passed, she began to settle down.

“Better?”
I asked.

She
closed her eyes and nodded lightly before she spoke again. Her body language
screamed that she was exhausted and stressed beyond even her uncanny capability
to hide it. “Still not hungry though, honey. Cancer was what killed your
grandmaw, you know. Not breast cancer mind you, hers was in the lungs. This was
back when the farm used to grow tobacco, and didn’t nobody know how bad for you
it was. Nearly everybody around here grew it and smoked the stuff, not like it
is today.”

“I
remember. Hard to believe it’s been almost seven years since she passed,” I
said, remembering my grandmother’s cheerful face. Her smile seemed to last all
the way to the end.

“She
knew she was dyin’ for a good while. The doctors wanted to treat her for it,
but she told ‘em all to go to hell.”

I
nodded and agreed, “Sounds like grandma, all right.”

“She
wanted to be in heaven, back together with your grandpa. That’s why none of us
could talk her out of it. We jus’ about begged her to listen to that doctor.
‘When it’s my time, it’s my time,’ she’d say.”

“They’d
been together for a long time.”

“Goin’
on fifty years. I’m sure you don’t remember him, though. Your grandpaw passed
on when you was still learnin’ how to walk and wearin’ diapers. He was a good
man, though. The best.”

I
touched my shirt, and felt the locket hanging on the other side, cool and round
against my skin. The gift he’d given my grandmother was a symbol she’d held
onto, and once she knew in her heart that she would feel his love again in the
next life, that symbol was passed on to me.

“I
wasn’t trying to stop her from giving you that because I thought you shouldn’t
have it,” mother said complacently. “If it belonged to anyone it was you. She’d
always said that she wanted you to have it one day, but I was worried with you
being so young, that you might somehow lose it.”

“I
did, Momma. In the accident.”

“No
honey, you didn’t,” she said, shaking her head knowingly. “You
gave
it
to someone, and they brought it back to you. That locket was never lost, not
for a minute.”

Two
hours later, I was in my room, getting ready for my date with Shane. Momma had
gotten an appetite after all, and before I’d left her downstairs, she and Daddy
had decided to go out on a little date of their own. She told me that it had
seemed like forever since she’d been hungry, and if that man of hers didn’t
take her out for a steak and an ice cream sundae he’d live to regret it. I
don’t think Daddy ever looked so happy in all his life.

In
front of my mirror and fresh out of the shower, I did some gussying up. I chose
a deep red lipstick that I hadn’t worn in ages and puckered up, showing my
reflection the best kissy-face I could manage to hold without laughing as I put
on the finishing touches. A thrill ran through me from my toes to the top of my
head when I thought about what it might feel like to have Shane’s lips against
mine before the night was out.

What
a man
.
Not even here, and already he was driving me mad.

After
reminding myself that the date hadn’t even started, I refocused on getting ready.
A look at the glowing alarm clock on my nightstand told me that I only had
another twenty minutes before Mr. Special came a-calling. Since my hair was
cooperating once it was dry, I combed it out and teased the strands half-way up
with the curling iron, leaving wavy lengths that fell in an auburn cascade
across my shoulders. A bit of fluffing here and there, and the look was
complete.

Next,
I dug out the sultry black dress from the closet and stepped into it, marveling
in the slick, smooth feeling of the fabric as it glided over my skin. It hugged
around my hips just enough to look good without restricting me, and the tight
fit of it stretching around my breasts gave my bra a run for its money. After
nearly twisting my elbow in half to get the tiny zipper in the back up, I spun
in the mirror, and then promptly wondered who the gorgeous woman staring back
at me was!

“Hello
Shane,” I whispered to my reflection with a lusty smile, and then blew it a
kiss. It was silly, but I hadn’t been so excited in a long time. Sue me.

By
the time I finished my show in front of the mirror and put the last touches on
my makeup, the doorbell chime rang out. “Coming!” I shouted, while
simultaneously hopping into my little black shoes and then trying to rapidly navigate
the steps down into the foyer. It was a lucky thing that our date didn’t end
with me lying at the bottom of the hardwood stairs with a broken neck.

Just
as the doorbell rang again, I swung open the door, and my happy expression fell
flat. Standing before me, wearing naught but his old boots and a pair of
oil-covered blue jeans was Hale. He wiped his chiseled, sweaty chest with a
cloth and gave me a burning look from underneath the faded baseball cap on his
head.

“Kat…”
he started, and his eyes opened wide. “Hot
damn
, girl.”

“Not
right now, Hale.” I looked down the winding dirt road towards the street.
God,
Shane would be here any minute.
“What is it? What do you want?”

“Hang
on, hang on, I want to take a mental picture-“

I
slapped at him with my purse, but missed by a mile. “You better tell me what
you want right now or I’m slamming this door in your face.”

“Alright,
easy. Damn. Your old man home?”

I
anxiously looked around him, towards the street again. “No, he ain’t. Won’t be
back till tonight, later. Him and Momma went out.”

“Well,
let him know one of the barrel housings on the harvester is shot. He’s gonna
have to order a replacement if he wants me to fix it.”

“Uh
huh.”
Was that a car coming towards the house?
“Can’t you just tell this
to Daddy in the morning?”

“I
reckon I could,” Hale said before slapping the cloth back over his shoulder and
sticking out his stubbly chin for a scratch. “Say, ain’t that the dress I
bought you for Valentine’s one year? What you all dressed up for, anyway?” His
eyes traced the path of my own, which were still searching the long drive from
the street to my house. “Ooh,
I see
. Kat’s out on the prowl already. No
wonder you like to be called that.”

That
is definitely a car. His car.

“Just
get out of here, Hale. This ain’t none of your business, remember?”

“Maybe
I’ll stay. Get to meet this gentleman caller and make sure he’s up to snuff. I
reckon I can give him a few pointers about you. Tell ‘em what you like, and all
that.”

“Hale
Ellis, if you don’t get away from this door and get back to that dirty ol’
garage so help me-“

“Easy,”
he said and raised his hands. “I’m gone. Don’t let me stop ya. I got my own
plans tonight anyway with a smokin’ hot blonde.”

With
that, Hale duck-stepped off the porch and towards the garage, throwing up a big,
overzealous wave to the incoming silver BMW and the dust cloud trailing in behind
it.

My
heart felt like it was stuck in my throat as I watched Hale strut away, only
disappearing from sight when the squeaking, rusted garage door shut loudly
behind him. I knew there was a chance that he and Shane might cross paths
eventually, but the last time I wanted that to happen was moments before we
went on our first date. I could hardly believe Hale so easily passed up an
opportunity to ruin my evening.

Probably
trying to act like he’s changed
, I thought.
It’s
not sincere.
He’ll never learn.

“Wow-whee!
He’s sure got a nice car,” a little voice from behind me said. It was Abby, and
she was pressed up against the screen window and watching everything.

“Abby!
Get out of here!”

Her
nose pushed against the thin screen and she crossed her eyes comically. “Is
that why you like him, Kat? Is he really rich?”

“No!
I…I don’t know if he’s rich or not.” I stepped closer to the window and reached
back like I was about to pop it with my hand. “That has nothin’ to do with it,
you! No go on, get!”