The Devil Has Dimples (14 page)

Grant sighed.  He pushed away the paper and pencil in front
of him and took the book away from me.

A few long minutes passed.  Then he closed the book and set
it on the table.  He raked his hand through his hair.

“I should have known that it wouldn’t have been easy.”

“No.  It seems like nothing is ever easy.”

I grabbed my cup of tea and took a swallow.  It was
lukewarm.  I threw the contents down the sink and washed the cup again.  It
looked like I wasn’t going to have any tea tonight.

Grabbing up the loose stuff still on the table, I threw it
back into the box.  The compact and the ring sat side by side.

“What should we do with them?”  I asked.

“Put them in a safe place for now, someone might come in to
claim the ring.  I wouldn’t ask any questions about it until we can have the
engraving translated.”

“Who do you have in mind for that?”

Grant looked at me, then gave me a big smile that I knew I
wouldn’t like the answer he was going to give.

“T-Jack.”

I groaned.  It seems like I was destined to be in T-Jack’s
near vicinity.

“But you can ask the librarian when you check on the date
issue.”

“You can be sure I will check out the librarian before I
have to tackle T-Jack.  The man wears me out.”

Grant laughed at me.  I wanted to slap him.  But this was my
mission, and I was going to have to carry it out.

* * *

September 14, 1992

He came by today.  After his mother’s funeral.

She was always nice to me, so I went and sat in the
back.  Thinking of ‘what could have been’  and getting sadder as each moment
passed.

I didn’t expect him to come.  He knows that being alone
with him hurts me.

He reached in his pocket and brought out a beautiful engraved
box and handed it to me.

I stared at it.

He placed it on the counter.  “It’s yours.  If you ever
decide that we can marry, I want you to wear my mother’s ring.  If not, give it
to our daughter.  It’s rightfully hers.  It has my mother and father’s initials
on the box.

I remained silent.  Staring at the box, unable to pick it
up and open it.

Then he walked out.

I couldn’t bear to open the box, so I slipped it in my
desk drawer.

I’m such a coward.

I don’t know if my daughter would ever want anything from
me.

 The thought saddened me for the rest of the day and into
the night.

* * *

As I lay in bed that night, the stars twinkled above me.  It
was hard to believe that my mother stayed here, looking at the same stars.  I
wondered if she thought of me.  She must have, what with all the photos of me
growing up.  Why did she give me away?  From all reports, it seemed like she
didn’t care what people thought of her.  So, why give me away?  What was the true
relationship between my parents and her?  One question kept leading to more and
more questions, the answers to which I haven’t received as yet.  I rolled over
in bed and stared at the wall for a while.

There were pictures of Grant there, in his wrestling
uniform, a total hunk.  Another picture of him with his dad, his father smiling
broadly, both dressed in tuxedos, with baby roses in their lapels.  Obviously
at Lenny’s wedding.  Lenny seemed so happy, Grant so solemn.

There was a picture of me there.  At least I think it was of
me.  A newborn baby photo.  It was different than the one in the scrapbook.  It
could have been any baby in the world, round faced, a button nose, hairless ,
but I felt in my heart that Maudie had this one picture of her only child,
where she could see it every day, and no one would be the wiser.

Secrets.

Maudie had secrets.  We all have them to some extent.  Only
she carried hers to the grave.  I wonder if I will ever find them out, or are
they hidden so deep that the truth will never be discovered.  I nestled deeply
amongst the pillows and tears formed.  I wish I had known her, talked to her,
hugged her.  Why did she give me away?  And why wait until she was dead to let
me know part of the truth, but not the whole truth?  I fell asleep, wondering
what her secrets were.

* * *

April 30, 1984

Secrets.

Lord, you know I can’t keep a secret.

I want to shout it from the skies.

I’m pregnant.

I’m going to have a baby.

A sweet wonderful baby.

Then I realized.  I have to keep it a secret.  No one
must ever know.

My baby’s life would be ruined.

I broke down and cried.

It seemed like I cried for days.  But it was only a few
hours.

I knew then what I had to do.

I had to give my baby up.

Oh, Lord.  You do like to punish sinners.

My innocent baby.

My horrible sin.

One thing about Maudie’s sky window, when the sun came up,
it was up.  A good thing I am a morning person.  I jumped out of bed and beat
it to the shower before Grant hogged all the hot water.

My thoughts danced around him as my hands soaped my body.  I
was being a bad girl, at least my thoughts were being bad.

When I stepped outside my bedroom, Grant was already gone. 
His door was open, his bed made.  Everything was neatly in place.  At least he
wasn’t a slob.  An empty juice glass was in the sink.  I had to smile.  At
least he wasn’t drinking out of the jug.

It was still early, so I whipped up some pancakes, placing
them in the oven to keep warm, as I fried some bacon.  It was pleasant cooking
breakfast.  I generally ate oatmeal as it was easier, but a big breakfast gave
me an energy spurt that carried me through the day.

I was cleaning up when Grant thundered up the back stairs.

“Hey, it smells good.  What did you fix?”

I turned to face him and noticed that he had a guest tailing
him.

“This is T-Beau.”  Grant introduced a lanky kid, exceeding
tall, with a shock of orange hair.

I know I must have looked shocked myself.

T-Beau gave me a shy smile and ran his huge hand over his
head.  “It’s supposed to be blond.”

Embarrassed, I smiled to let him know that we all have
moments of stupid decisions, I indicated a seat at the table.

“If you clear that drawer off there, grab a seat and I’ll
feed you.”

Grant and T-Beau cleared off the table while I pulled out a
frying pan, a spatula and grabbed the carton of eggs from the refrigerator. 
“How do you like your eggs?”

It didn’t take long for us to finish off all the pancakes,
bacon and the half-dozen eggs that I fixed.

“T-Beau is on the wrestling team.”  Grant said.

I looked at the gangly youth with doubt.  He didn’t seem
muscular.

“He wins quite a few matches, the other guys have trouble holding
onto him.”  Grant said.

T-Beau bowed his head and looked up at me with shy eyes.  He
looked familiar.

“He’s Bitsy’s grandson.”  Grant said.

My mouth made an “O” shape.  What was going on here?  I
smiled at T-Beau and asked.  “You run too?”

T-Beau smiled and stated.  “Run every morning, I’m on the
track and football teams, as well, but Coach stopped me this morning and
invited me to breakfast.  He said you were a good cook, so I took him up on it.”

A “good” cook.  Thanks, Grant.  I thought I was an excellent
cook.

“Usually he makes a rest stop at Bitsy’s for breakfast, but
she wasn’t home this morning.”  Grant said.

Curious.

“Where do you think she went, T-Beau.”

He scratched his head, then mumbled, “I don’t know.  It’s
the first time she’s never been home for me.”

Now that was strange.  “Was your grandfather home?”

“Oh yes, ma’am.  He was home.  Dead asleep on the sofa.”

“Is that where he usually sleeps?”  I asked.

“Yes, ma’am.  Either the sofa or his recliner.  Can’t get
him too far from the television set.”

That must be a happy home life.  How does Bitsy put up with
it?  Or does she?  Where could she have gone?  Did she leave after she came to
visit me?  What was going on here?

Grant stood up and T-Beau jumped up right after him.  “I
told him I’d drive him home so he wouldn’t miss school, so we better get
moving,” said Grant.

I pasted a smile on my face and held out my hand to T-Beau. 
“It was great meeting you.  I hope Bitsy comes home soon, as I need to talk to
her.”

A shadow swept over his face, as though he wasn’t telling me
the whole truth.  Then he muttered, “I hope so too.”

I watched them as they left the room and heard their shoes
on the back steps.  Clearing the table, I wondered what was going on.  It
seemed strange that Bitsy wouldn’t be home for her grandson if she usually
was.  Where could she have gone?  I wondered if Silas knew.  Hesitating only
for an instant, I looked up their number in the phone book and then realizing
that I didn’t know their last name, dug for Maudie’s little black book.

It was there under ‘B’ for Bitsy.  I dialed the number and
after four rings the answering machine picked up.  Bitsy’s cheerful little
voice informed me that they weren’t in and to leave a message.  I carefully
hung up the phone.  For some reason I didn’t want to leave a message on their
phone.

I pulled open the phone book again and checked out the
library opening hours.  Nine o’clock.  That was still an hour plus away.  Cleaning
up the dishes, I thought of all the information that I needed to check on before
the library quest.

It was still warm, so I walked to the Library.  It wasn’t on
the square proper but on a side street two blocks away.  I brought my notebook,
along with the paper with the French phrase that Grant had transcribed from the
ring.

I certainly hoped that I could do everything there and not
have to go to T-Jack to ask any questions.

The librarian at the front desk pointed me to the back of
the library, where they had a Louisiana reference room and someone there could
help me.

I opened the door to the room, and wouldn’t you know it. 
Joanna was there.  She looked up at me as though I was an intruder, and then
she frowned.  Didn’t the woman ever smile?

I pasted a grin on my face.  “Joanna, how good to see you. 
I didn’t know you worked here.”  Why didn’t Grant warn me?

She sniffed with her rat snout, showing me her displeasure. 
I put on a broader grin.  Kill them with kindness is what my dad always told
me.

“What do
you
want?”  She asked.

Oh, joy, joy, she wasn’t happy to see me at all.

“Just some answers to a lot of questions,” I said.

For a moment there, fear ran over her face.

I wondered what that was about.  Deciding to just plow ahead
I asked.  “They said at the front that there was someone that could help me,
would that be you?”

“Yes.  I could help you if I wanted to.”  Her voice rose at
the end, in a very condescending tone.

Joanna was definitely against me.  So I asked her. “What’s
your problem with me?”

That took her aback.  Her head snapped away from me as
though I slapped her.  “I don’t have a problem with you.  Just all your
questions.”

“Why would my questions affect you?”

“It’s affecting the whole town.  That’s all anyone talks
about, who’s your daddy, who’s your daddy, who’s your daddy.”  She voiced the
last phase like a taunting child.

But would Joanna know?  My heart knocked against my chest. 
I had to ask.

“So, who is my daddy?”

Joanna’s rat face twisted to sheer vile.  Somehow I hit a
sore spot.  I decided to push my luck.  “It wouldn’t be your husband by any
chance?”

Apparently I pushed my luck button too far.

“You bitch!”  Joanna screamed as spittle flew out of her
mouth.  She raised her hand and slapped me across the face.  It caught me by
surprise and I had to take a step sideways to keep my balance.

The burn from her palm radiated down my body, and when it
reached my hand I automatically made a fist.  My body was shaking.  But I stood
there and took her abuse.  I’d take anything to get the answers and to get out
of this town.

Joanna didn’t notice my fist, or she wouldn’t have kept
talking.  “Maudie should have had an abortion.  She was nothing but a slut.  Always
after another woman’s man, while pretending to be your best friend.”

Joanna’s face turned redder and redder.  You can never gain
ground with someone who is in a violent rage.  So I took my only recourse and
turned and walked away.  My hand still in a tight fist.

Joanna screamed at me as I opened the door and left the
reference room.

“Get out of my library!”

“Get out of my town!”

“Get out of my life, bastard!”

Then I was hurt, deep within my heart.  Bastard was a cruel
word, and I had no responsibility for the events surrounding my birth.  That
was my birth parent’s decision.  I was innocent.

She was still screaming at me, even through I closed the door.

Hot tears began to stream down my face.  It was all I could
do to leave the building with my dignity intact.  The librarian stared at me as
I walked across her vision, several patrons turned to follow my course, Joanna
yelled so loud it was a wonder if there weren’t people on the street turning
their heads.  I hurriedly left the building and stumbled down the stairs.  I
walked blindly down the street, not paying attention to where I was going.

I didn’t care.

I had enough.

I was leaving this miserable town.

* * *