The Devil Has Dimples (19 page)

I answered back.  “Hi, T-Beau.  What’s cooking.”

He stirred the pot once more, then removed the spoon and
placed a lid on top.  “Just some chicken and okra gumbo.”

“Smells delicious.”

“It is.”  He walked over to Bitsy and gave her a big hug.

“I’ve missed you.”  He whispered.

“Where’s Silas?”  Bitsy asked, she looked worried.

“Out in the garage.”

Bitsy gave a big sigh.  “Where’s Mother?”

T-Beau gave a shy smile to me.  “She’s in her bedroom,
sprucing up for our company.”

“Good.”  Bitsy threw me a look, but I couldn’t quite decipher
her meaning.

The phone rang.  T-Beau picked up the receiver from the wall
phone.  Listened a moment and handed the phone to me.

“Who is it?”  I asked.

“Coach.”

I groaned deep inside.  Grabbing the phone, I answered. 
“Hello.”

“What the hell are you doing over there?”  He demanded.

I’m sure that Bitsy and T-Beau could hear him yelling at me
over the phone, so I gave them a smile.  A feeble one, I’m sure.

“I was invited for dinner.  How did you know I was here?”

He let out a big sigh.  “I saw Bitsy’s beast of a car pull
away, while I was drinking coffee on the porch.”

So the sap was up when I left.  “And?”

“Why are you there, Sara?”

It was my turn to sigh.  Both T-Beau and Bitsy seemed
occupied and not appearing to listen to my conversation, but I knew they were.

“I was invited to dinner.  That’s all.”

That seemed to settle his nerves, a grunt sounded on the
other end of the line.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Duh.  Men are so dense.  Of course we needed to talk.  We
had heart-stopping sex.  Well, at least I did.  And then he’d been beaten up,
hit by a car, then he’d totally ignored me, so yes.  We did need to talk.

I turned my head and looked out at the backyard through the
glass in the door.  Silas was coming.

“Yes.  As soon as I get back.”  I hung up quickly, not
giving Grant a chance to answer me.  I wanted to be prepared when Silas walked
in the door.  Which he did.

He took one look at me and snapped.  “What is she doing
here?”

He glared at his wife and grandson, daring them to answer
him.

“I invited Maudie’s daughter, Silas.  So be nice.”  The
voice was soft, gentle, but firm.  I turned to see Bitsy’s mother standing in
the hall doorway.

She turned her gaze toward me and her eyes lit up.  “Oh,
Maudie’s daughter.”

She opened her arms wide.  “Come to me child.  Let me give
you a hug.”

I entered her embrace.  Then began to cry.  What was wrong
with me?

I’m sure she could feel my sobs, and, sure enough, she
started to stroke my back.  “Don’t cry, baby.  Your momma must have loved you
an awful lot to give something so beautiful away.  I can’t imagine how much it
hurt her.”

Did it?  Did Maudie cry?  She must have hurt, and hurt
deeply.  All the photos.  Pictures of me in her bedroom, her workplace.  As
though she wanted me to be with her always.  Perhaps she really did love me.

I drew back from her embrace.

She gave me a big grin.  “Just call me Momma.  Everyone does
in these parts.  Seems like I almost forgot my real name, everyone’s been
calling me Momma for fifty or sixty years.”

“I ain’t calling you ‘Momma’ and never have.”  Silas
interjected.

What a jerk!

“That’s ‘cause you haven’t any respect, Silas.  Never did. 
Never will.”  She entered the kitchen and called out.

“Bitsy, girl, you and Sara come help me set this table. 
T-Beau, you start dishing up that rice.  It’s time to eat.”

What a charmer.

We set the table in no time.  Momma supervised.

T-Beau brought in a tremendous bowl of gumbo and set it on
the table next to the rice.  There were baked sweet potatoes on a platter along
with several sticks of butter.

Momma turned to Bitsy.  “Sweet girl, would you grab the hot
vinegar out of the fridge.”

Bitsy left.  Momma bellowed.  “Dinner, Mackie!”

I know I jumped.  Then, I heard the recliner creak.  Mackie
must be a bit deaf.

Silas entered the kitchen, looking disgruntled.

Momma motioned for me to sit beside her at the huge round
table.  At least I wouldn’t have to look at Silas directly across from the
table.  T-Beau sat across from me, while Bitsy sat between me and her husband. 
Mackie sat next to his wife.

Momma reached out her hands to both sides, holding my hand
and her husband’s.  I held my hand out to Bitsy and when she tried to hold Silas’s
hand, he ignored it.  It didn’t seem like he was trying to repair his marriage
or his life.  The five of us held hands around the table.

Mackie started grace.

“Lord, bless us with your everlasting bounty.  Our good
health, our wonderful child, our blessed great-grandson, our beloved Maudie’s
daughter.  We praise you with our hearts.  Amen.”

Well, Silas was left out of that prayer.  He should have
held our hands.

I glanced over at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Momma squeezed my hand, so I looked in her direction.  She
smiled.  What a sweet woman.

“Silas, you be a good boy and dish out that gumbo, it’s too
large to pass around.”  Momma said.

Calling Silas a “good boy” was funny.  It was all I could do
not to laugh.

Silas grabbed his bowl and started to load it up.

“You can pass that to Mr. Mackie.”  Momma said when he put
the plate down in front of himself.

He shot her a baleful look and reluctantly passed the bowl
to Mackie, who in turn gave him an empty one in return.

While he was doing that, Momma started to talk.

“Maudie gave me this recipe for gumbo.  I didn’t like okra
in my gumbo, but it’s the way you cook it down before you add the rest of the
ingredients.  It’s mighty good.  Especially if you put a little hot vinegar on
it.  Mackie plants me some jalapeño pepper plants every year so I can put up
several jars to last the year.”

She started to shake some hot vinegar on her food.  It
looked like a lot to me, but then what do I know?  I’ve never eaten hot vinegar
before.

She passed me the bottle, and I gingerly shook on a few
drops.

“That’s kind of light girl.  But you’re from down south,
aren’t you?”

I paused with my spoon in midair.  “Yes, ma’am, I was raised
in Baton Rouge.”

“Baton Rouge?”  She took a bite and thought on that for a
minute.

I bit into a spoonful of gumbo and thought my mouth was on
fire.  I grabbed for my glass of tea, and drank about half of it down.

Momma was laughing, in fact, everyone was laughing.

“You must have a sweet mouth, ‘cause you didn’t hardly put
any vinegar on that dish.”  Momma said.

I rather gasped for air.  Geez, I think I broke into a
sweat.  My whole body was on fire.

“Don’t be afraid.  It’s usually the first bite that’s the
stomper, it’ll be okay now.”  Momma said.

“Yeah.  It keeps your heart ticking.”  Mackie said.

Well, considering these two were in their nineties, it sure
couldn’t hurt.

I slowly took another bite, and while hot, it didn’t burn as
much.  I guess not, I think my taste buds were singed beyond feeling.

“Sara brought you a coffee cake, Momma.”  Bitsy said.

Momma’s eyes lit up.  “That’s nice.  I love a good coffee
cake.  Bitsy told me you make a mean lemon cookie.”

I smiled.  “Yes, ma’am. I’d be delighted to make you some
one day.”

We ate in silence.  Silas got seconds.  T-Beau was silent
throughout the whole meal, and when done, he excused himself and took his plate
out to the kitchen.  We could hear him washing dishes.

Momma said.  “That sure is a good child, even though his hair
is orange.  But that doesn’t matter.  I learned a long time ago not to look at
the outside of people, but to look inside and see what they are really made
of.  That kid is made of good stuff.”

I had to agree.

“He comes over most afternoons, helps out with supper, eats,
cleans up, does a few chores for us, then off he goes. Can’t ask better than
that.  His momma works the afternoon shift at the hospital, else she’d be here
today.”

I nodded.

Silas stood up, leaving his plate on the table.  He walked
into the living room, and the television started to blare out a football game.

Mackie heard the game and finished eating.  He, too, got up
and left the room.

I finally managed to finish the last of my dinner, and stood
up to grab my plate, when Momma’s hand reached over and grasped my arm.

“Wait a minute.  Bitsy will do that.  I need to tell you
something.”

I sat down with a thud, my heart beating fast.

Bitsy took several plates and stepped into the kitchen,
closing the door.

“I taught school when I was younger.  Maudie was one of my
students.”

Her hand remained on my arm, and she started to stroke it.

“Maudie was a good kid.  Happy, always smiling.  She was a
joy to teach.”

Momma looked out the window.

“Then she was raped in the fifth grade.”

I gasped.

Momma turned to look at me.  “Don’t hardly anyone know that
happened to her.  This town is wild for gossip.  I discovered her, back behind
the storage room, where she was left, like a dirty tissue, just used and thrown
on the ground.  Like to broke my heart.  A little girl like that.”

Her hand still rubbed my arm.

“Seems it was a stranger, going through town.”

My heart went out to my mother.  And to Momma for telling me
this.

“Did they catch him?”

Momma smiled.  It wasn’t pretty.

“Seems like he liked to jump trains.  Apparently he grabbed
another little girl in the next town over, abused her, and ran for the train
and jumped wrong and fell under the wheels.  He managed to lose both legs.  He
died in jail.  God punished him for his evil doings.”

So, there is a God protecting the innocent.  Too bad, he
didn’t act sooner.

“Is that what you needed to tell me?”

“Yes.  But there’s more.”

I felt my stomach clench.  Bitsy came into the dining room
and saw us both sitting there, glum.  She picked up the rest of the dirty
dishes, then left us alone.

“Your mama never did get any closer to any boy after that. 
Oh, a few kisses here and there.  But anytime one tried to get close, she
backed off.”

“Did she ever tell you why?”  I asked.

“Oh, yes.  That poor girl came to me every time she broke up
with someone, crying.  Wondering if there was something wrong with her.  I just
told her that the right fella hadn’t come along yet.”

“Did she ever tell you when he did?”

Momma shook her head.  “Yes.  She danced in here one day,
and was happy as could be.  She wouldn’t tell me why, but I knew.  Only the
next time I saw her, she was sadder than that day so many years ago.  It seemed
like all the life had been taken out of her.”

What did happen?  She was happy, then not.  Was it because
of me?  Did she find out that she was pregnant?  I didn’t know what to think
anymore.

“That’s all you know?”

Momma shook her head.  “Yes.  Only her, her parents, the
doctor and sheriff knew the details of the rape.  We all kept it quiet.  It
would have destroyed her life here.  I’m the only one alive who remembers it.”

She looked at me directly.  “And don’t you be telling
anybody either.  It’s past history.  What’s done is done.”

Who to tell?  There was no one in my life it seemed.  Not
even Grant.

“I won’t tell.”  I whispered.

Momma squeezed my arm.  “That’s a good girl.”

I didn’t feel like a good girl.  I felt like shit.

T-Beau drove me home in Bitsy’s clunker.  He was a little
rough on the gear shift, but we sputtered in one piece in front of the shop.

I pushed the car door open, when he appeared at my side.

“I was supposed to do that,” he said.

Wow!  Someone was training this kid right.

I grinned at him and gave him my hand.  “Well, pull my
carcass out of this tin trap and we’ll call it even.”

His hand was strong and firm as he pulled me out.  He
slammed the car door and stood there, brushing his hand through his orange hair.

“I just wanted to thank you for the work yesterday,” he
said.

“No.  It’s thank you.  I needed some help getting that table
to Margie’s house, and you came through for me.”

He brushed his hand through his hair again.  It was sticking
straight up.  He hesitated slightly, then said, “Thanks for being good to
Bitsy.  She really misses Maudie.  It’s been hard on her.”

“Thanks, T-Beau.  I adore your grandmother.”

“So do I, Miss Sara.  So do I.”

I watched him get back in the car and drive off.  I wondered
if I would ever have grandchildren who adored me.

It was hard enough to get just one person to adore me.  I
glanced at the upstairs apartment.  The porch beckoned me with its ferns and
bright pillows.

* * *

Grant wasn’t home.  So much for “we need to talk.”

I changed my clothes into something comfortable and trekked
downstairs to finish up Maudie’s office, I’d take a break on the porch when I
finished, or in an hour, whichever came first.  I no sooner got half way down the
stairs when the phone rang.

My stomach clenched.  I didn’t know if I wanted to answer
it.  But I trotted down the rest of the way and grabbed it on the third ring.

“Sara?”

It was Alice on the other end.  “Yes.”

“Can you come over?  I found someone you might be interested
in meeting.”

I inwardly groaned.  But managed to say yes, got the driving
instructions and was headed in her direction in five minutes.

I pulled up in front of a small house.  It could have fit
four or five times in the antique store.