Stardust A Novel (22 page)
“Georgia, sometimes you have to lay out a claim, drive a stake, and put your life on the line no matter what. I have a feeling you’ve done that here at the Stardust. Took a risk and worked for something you cared about.”
“A lot of good it did me.”
“I doubt you’ll let one setback stop you.” His eyes clouded, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.
Goose bumps skittered down my arms, but I kept my gaze on him. “Just because you’re from Georgia doesn’t mean you have to slow dance around what you’re trying to say.”
His hands cradled my face and neck, his breath warm and close. “I want to get to know you better, help you out with this crisis. You’ve been hurt, but I realized something in San Antonio. Life is short. Too short to spend it drifting around the country. I’d like to drive my stake in Mayhaw. Get a job, put down some roots, and see what happens.”
He kissed the tip of my nose, then drew me into his arms and held me.
When he kissed the top of my head, the hot tears I’d held at bay slid down my cheeks. My arms slid around his waist, and I told myself to be careful, that getting attached was dangerous, and love might be lethal.
Don’t get too close.
People leave.
My heart, though, didn’t get the message.
W
hile wrapped in Peter’s arms, I remembered O’Dell’s journal with his sales list. I hadn’t wanted to know at the time who the other woman was, but now I needed to learn more so I could get Bonnie reunited with her family. It was also a good excuse to get away from Peter before I got caught up in something I would later regret.
Peter waited while I went into the quarters to retrieve O’Dell’s briefcase. We found Fiona’s name with
Kilgore
written beside it, but no street address. It wasn’t much, but Peter offered to relay the information.
The earlier moment of tenderness fled, and I was glad of it. Concentrating on Bonnie took priority, and with luck, she would soon be on her way. Hopefully, people would forget that the Stardust had birthed Mayhaw’s first case of polio. I prayed it was the only one.
Morning came way too soon, and I felt disoriented when Rosey shook me awake from where I’d slept on the divan. “Morning, Momma. Time to get up.” Three jam-covered smiles hovered over me.
“Morning to you, too. I see you’ve met Bonnie. And made breakfast, too.”
“I toasted the bread, but Bonnie spread on the butter and jelly. Is Bonnie staying here now?”
A fleeting memory pinched my stomach. Something in one of the brochures Aunt Cora had given me on infantile paralysis.
The infection can spread through any hand-to-mouth contact. Thorough hand washing is imperative.
Jelly smudges on the girls’ fingers and chins. I’d seen how my girls spread jelly on toast before, licking their fingers and the spoon. A vision of millions of polio germs being licked and spread and swallowed made me want to throw up. I leapt from the divan and herded the girls to the kitchen sink.
“Let’s get your hands and faces washed.” With water as hot as I dared, I lathered soap on each girl’s hands in turn and held them under the faucet, willing whatever germs might have lingered down the drain. Separate washcloths for their faces. Then I marched them into the living room and told them to sit.
“Girls, I know we’ve talked about this before, but I’m going to tell you something
very
important. You cannot drink after each other. You may not use the same forks or spoons. You know you have to wash your hands when you go to the bathroom, but now it’s more important than ever.”
Rosey bounced on the divan, a sassy look on her face. “I know all this. We did the germ rules every day at school.”
“Good. I’m glad you know them. You can help Avril and Bonnie remember. It’s very important.”
“You said that. Can we go outside and play?”
“We need to help Bonnie with a bath and see if she can wear one of the dresses you’ve outgrown. We want her to look nice when her family comes to get her.”
Bonnie, who sat with her hands between her legs, looked at me, her lower lip trembling. “When’s my momma coming back?”
I knelt before her. “Bonnie, your momma is sick and has to stay in the hospital for a while. I know you’re sad and scared, but someone will come for you soon.”
Her chin jutted up, a steely look in her eyes. “She’s not coming back.”
“I’m sure she will, but it might take awhile.”
Rosey put her arm around Bonnie. “My daddy left, and when he came back, they put him in a hole in the ground.”
“Rosey, that’s not what Bonnie needs to hear.”
Bonnie chewed on a fingernail. “My daddy got put in a box and sticked in a hole, too.”
Avril, who had been quiet, tugged on my arm. “I want to go outside and play with Sebastian. Please.”
I nodded. “That’s a splendid idea. Rosey, go out with your sister and remember to stay in the back.”
After putting Bonnie in the tub, I threw on my own clothes, then ventured to the bathroom to get more information from her. “I’m sorry about your daddy. I bet your momma is thinking about him and you, too, right this minute. Was that what you were doing when your car went in the mud? Coming back from your daddy’s funeral?” It might be the Arkansas connection. Perhaps they’d once lived there and moved to Texas.
“That was a long time ago. When I was three. I’m four and a half now.”
“I bet your grandma and grandpa were sad, too.”
She shrugged and clapped the bubbles between her hands. “Aunt Teddy was there. She smelled like Christmas.”
“Was your uncle there, too?”
Bonnie scowled. “I was sad. He gave me candy.”
An aunt who smelled like Christmas and an uncle who was sensitive to a child would surely want to provide a home for Bonnie. “Where do your aunt and uncle live?”
She made an O with her mouth. “O Sarks.”
“Arkansas, then?”
“Don’t know. Can I have a pink dress? Momma says pink is my best color.”
“You and Avril are going to get along fine. Pink is her best color, too. And I think I know the perfect dress for you. Come on, let me shampoo your hair and get you dolled up.”
“What’s your name, lady?”
“I guess I’ve not told you that, have I? I’m Georgia Peyton, but you can call me Georgia.”
“Georgie, can we go see my momma?”
“Maybe before too long. We’ll see.”
After combing the tangles from her hair and putting on the pink gingham dress Rosey had worn two Easters ago, I sent her out to play. As fine as Bonnie’s hair was, it would be dry after ten minutes in the sunshine.
When I unlocked the office door, I didn’t see Peter’s Studebaker in its usual spot and trusted he’d gone to see the sheriff about locating Bonnie’s relatives. But I did see two gentlemen marching toward me. If their expressions were any indication, they were not happy patrons.
The man with big ears stomped into the office first and shoved the key in my hand. “My family and I are leaving. I just went to the donut shop for coffee and the woman you let stay here is the talk of all downtown. She’s got the polio. I knew it all along. So help me—”
The other gentleman, pock-faced and quite pleasant when he checked in, slapped his hand on the counter. “I want a refund. My wife is on the verge of a nervous breakdown after last night. She’s suffering with a migraine right now, and our vacation is ruined.” His nostrils flared, and I half expected smoke to pour from them.
I pasted on a smile. “Refunds are made only if you’re unable to complete your stay. You were paid up through last night, so I think we’re even.”
“Even, you say? I’ll get even if my wife or one of our kids comes down with polio.” He looked at the other man. “I heard the same thing you did, only over at the tire shop when I went to get a quart of oil for my car.”
They both glared at me, waiting.
“I’m sorry about your wife. You might take her to have her headache checked. You can find Doc Kelley’s office—”
“We’re not spending another minute in this town.”
“Headache is one of the symptoms of infantile paralysis. Does your wife have a stiff neck or trouble touching her chin to her chest?”
“Excuse me. I thought you were an innkeeper, not a doctor.”
“I’m sorry. Just trying to help. I wish both of you well. I’m distressed myself about what happened last night. I truly didn’t know. I can take your keys, and please, if you’re passing through again, I hope you’ll consider staying at the Stardust.”
The man with the bad complexion fished the key from his pocket and handed it over. “In your dreams, lady. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get sued or shut down.”
I watched them go, sad because they spoke the truth, but also feeling I should shake it off. There would be more customers. And hopefully no other unpleasant incidents.
A few minutes later, Ludi trudged in, her eyes round. “I seen the child I brung over outside, but no one answers the door at the cottage. I thought it best to check with you before I barge in and see how she be.”
“Ludi, I’m sorry. She was sicker than we thought. I had to call the ambulance.”
Ludi fanned herself with her hand. “Lordamercy. I’m sorry I got you in this mess. What she got?”
“Doc Kelley says it’s polio. They’ve sent her on to Tyler. I’m waiting for Peter to get back now to see if he’s found out anything more.”
“Mercy, mercy. My man say he’ll look for her car. Can’t be far away since she walked on up to Zion. It’s a mystery, that one. And the poor child. What’s to be done with her? And us? You ever think it might be one of our own gets the crippler next?”
Ludi gave wings to the fear riding low in my gut, but I refused to think about it. I explained that I was keeping Bonnie and told Ludi to leave Fiona’s room as it was until I heard from the sheriff. “We want to do whatever we need to meet their regulations and see if they can tell anything from the room. I have my doubts…” Cooperation might make the difference between getting a quarantine slapped on us or not.
“What you be needing me for?”
“Several of our tenants have already left. Scared off, I think. There’ll be their rooms to clean.” I gave her the numbers.
“I sho’nuf never expected this.”
“It’s all right, Ludi. We’ll make it through. We’ll keep busy and things’ll work out.”
What worked out, though, was that the
Mayhaw Messenger
ran the story of Fiona Callahan on the front page of the Sunday edition, which arrived at five o’clock on Saturday afternoon. Word spread like a brush fire. All of the guests fled except for Mr. Overstreet, who dropped by on Sunday afternoon to see about his account.
“I’ve seen a lot in the thirty years I been coming to the Stardust. Not letting this scare me away.”
“I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
“I like what you’ve done with the place. I was speaking with the young man from Georgia. He mentioned having a new barbecue pit out back. Maybe you and the rest of the regulars here could join me in a fish fry?”
“Don’t you want to take home the fish you’re catching?”
“Nobody to take ’em home to. My wife passed a couple years ago. Sure do enjoy fishing, though. Doreen used to fry up what I caught while Paddy and I told each other lies. Sure miss seeing them.”
“Me, too. And I’d love to have a cookout. How about tomorrow evening? Will you still be here?”
“I’ve been thinking of extending my stay another couple of weeks, maybe longer. Like I said, there’s no one to go home to.”
It was settled. He and Peter would manage the outdoor cooking, and I would make a couple of side dishes and bring the ice cream. At least it gave me something to think of besides all the empty rooms and Fiona’s tragedy.
I called Aunt Cora that afternoon, too, and after listening to her tell me I’d brought this on myself, I got in a word edgewise.
“Aunt Cora, I know what you’re saying has some truth in it. I accept that, so please, let it rest so I can tell you why I’m calling.”
“I’m listening.”
“The woman with polio is the same woman O’Dell left me for. I don’t know how this bizarre incident happened, but it’s not important. What’s important is that she already had a child when she met O’Dell. I believe her husband died, possibly as a soldier. The sheriff is trying to locate that information. What I want is to find the child’s family so she can be reunited with them. I was hoping the March of Dimes might help.”
“I suppose I could put my personal feelings aside to do that. Of course, I’m going to be busy helping to calm the fears of the people of Mayhaw. I can feel the hysteria gaining momentum, and I’m worried sick about Rosey and Avril.”
“Thank you. I’m concerned about the girls, too, but they’ve already been exposed by being around Bonnie. We can only hope and pray Bonnie’s not a carrier or a victim herself. She’s a sweet girl, one who I’m sure a relative would welcome.”
“So tell me what information you already have.”
I gave her the scant details and thanked her. We both promised to call if there were any changes. There was nothing to do then but wait.