Chapter 34
The multiple county-wide lockdown stayed in effect until daylight because it ran into the curfew. Trust me the “whaaaa, whaaaa, whaaaa” was not a great way to wake up.
I had a raging headache and Mr. Musgrove found me in the kitchen fighting with the childproof cap on the Excedrin. He took it from me and after looking at it opened the bottle. “A migraine?”
“Getting there,” I muttered about as coherently as I was capable of being at that moment. When I said, “Eggs?”
“Uh … you okay?”
“Eggs. As in do you want some.”
He blinked. “Er … you don’t need …”
“Me, empty stomach, and emotional hangover do not mix well. I have to eat and take these stupid antibiotics so do you want some eggs?”
“Uh … sure.”
“Scrambled, over easy, anyway in particular?”
“Scrambled always works.”
So I fixed eggs, took my medicine like a good girl, and tried not to be the embarrassed grouch I wanted to be.
“You aren’t … freaking out.”
“Takes too much energy.” After a pause I asked, “What do you think I should be freaking out about exactly?”
“You had a man in your house last night.”
I blinked through the zagging pain of the headache and eventually put a few words together. “You were on the sofa. I was behind a locked door. I have security cameras that would have gone off if you’d come too close to the door or if the front door had opened. If you turned out to be a psycho-maniac I also had a gun. And a phone that works. Had you somehow gotten through the door and beyond my gun, I have a bat that thinks it is called Lucille. What did you think this was? Some kind of stupid horror flick from the 80’s?”
He just sat there looking at me for about five seconds then he started laughing. When I grabbed my head in pain, he tried to laugh into his elbow then got up and walked out of the room to gain control of his noise level. I gave him the evil eye when he came back.
“Sorry. Do you really have a bat named Lucille?”
“I have a bat that thinks it is called Lucille. I just call it a big bat wrapped with barbed wire and sharp pointy things drilled through it that has the potential for being lethal. Mitchell made it for me before he left for Basic. He’s the one that tattooed the name Lucille on it.”
He had to get up and walk away again, this time snickering and holding his stomach.
Next time he came back he asked, “How’s your head?”
“It’s been better. How do I help with Mr. Barnes?”
That took the laughter away. “You don’t. Not yet.”
“But …”
“Mina, Uncle James … look, you push him too hard, and he’ll go the opposite direction. Aunt Maggie is trying to get him to have the operation his doctor suggested in hopes that it extends his life. Since this is the third recurrence though, he doesn’t have a lot of time to make that decision.”
“Fine. But what do I say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?!”
“Don’t even act like you know. Just continue being you. He values that. And I’m beginning to understand why.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you remind me a lot of Aunt Jean … his wife. She could be a firecracker too.”
“I’m not a firecracker. I’m me. And I’m aware that being me isn’t always comfortable for other people. I’m working on my mouth. Just after yesterday I’m not completely interested in watching my mouth the way I was. So … I’m sorry.”
“You’re human. And … being you has helped me with Daniel. The kid is a lot better than he used to be.”
“That’s just getting his diet straight.”
“It’s more than that but it also isn’t something we need to talk about.”
I sighed. “Is this where you think I am recovered enough to handle a lecture? Because if it is I’d be willing to act pitiful again.”
His mouth twitched. “I think at this point a lecture isn’t needed. That said?”
“Watch my p’s, q’s, and what they call my sixes at Sheepdog.”
“Yeah. And I’m also going to sound forward as hell.” I got a little wary. My mouth nearly fell open when he asked, “Would you consider letting me pull my trailer here and renting storage space for it?”
“’Scuse me?”
“It wouldn’t be until after the first of the year. Aunt Maggie is deeding her house over to her son from her first marriage. Taylor is a good guy but there’s history. I’ve got a place I can take Daniel and live … at least for a couple of months … but it is a garage apartment and there’s not room for much.”
“What kind of history?” I asked despite warning myself not to get involved.
“History called Felicia. Her husband was Taylor’s cousin from the other side of the family. It’s actually how they met. That side of the family has always questioned the paternity and … still do.”
“Oh. That kind of history.” I must have been suffering temporary insanity. That’s my only excuse. “Sure. Why not. And after I get more things cleaned out of the barn you can even pull it in there and out of sight. Valuables you can store in the carriage house apartment thingie that is over the garage.”
“Uh … you’re serious?”
“Was yours a serious enquiry?”
“Actually … yes it was.”
“Then just accept. Sometimes you’re the bug and sometimes you’re the windshield. This way neither one of us has to be either one, nor do we have to have people get in our business and make things harder. If you don’t want to store things in the barn you can maybe stick it all up in the apartment. C’mon.” My head wasn’t pounding quite as bad, but I still wasn’t happy about climbing the stairs. Then I remembered what I had stored in there. “Look, I’m still cleaning and organizing. The space is clean, but I have some … stuff … stored in the space. If we agree, I’ll get everything moved. And I’m not stupid, you’ll need keys and all the rest, like a clicker for the gates. But … um …”
“Well I’m not stupid either. I expect we’ll have to compromise as we go along. We can work that out as soon as we both see if this is something we can do.”
I’m certifiable. But to me it looked like a way to find an ally that was no more interested than I was in the sickly sweet fairytale … or soap opera … some people wanted us to be actors in. We talked and he said it might not be until the beginning of the year and I was hopeful by then of having full custody of the twins.
The multiple county-wide lockdown stayed in effect until daylight because it ran into the curfew. Trust me the “whaaaa, whaaaa, whaaaa” was not a great way to wake up.
I had a raging headache and Mr. Musgrove found me in the kitchen fighting with the childproof cap on the Excedrin. He took it from me and after looking at it opened the bottle. “A migraine?”
“Getting there,” I muttered about as coherently as I was capable of being at that moment. When I said, “Eggs?”
“Uh … you okay?”
“Eggs. As in do you want some.”
He blinked. “Er … you don’t need …”
“Me, empty stomach, and emotional hangover do not mix well. I have to eat and take these stupid antibiotics so do you want some eggs?”
“Uh … sure.”
“Scrambled, over easy, anyway in particular?”
“Scrambled always works.”
So I fixed eggs, took my medicine like a good girl, and tried not to be the embarrassed grouch I wanted to be.
“You aren’t … freaking out.”
“Takes too much energy.” After a pause I asked, “What do you think I should be freaking out about exactly?”
“You had a man in your house last night.”
I blinked through the zagging pain of the headache and eventually put a few words together. “You were on the sofa. I was behind a locked door. I have security cameras that would have gone off if you’d come too close to the door or if the front door had opened. If you turned out to be a psycho-maniac I also had a gun. And a phone that works. Had you somehow gotten through the door and beyond my gun, I have a bat that thinks it is called Lucille. What did you think this was? Some kind of stupid horror flick from the 80’s?”
He just sat there looking at me for about five seconds then he started laughing. When I grabbed my head in pain, he tried to laugh into his elbow then got up and walked out of the room to gain control of his noise level. I gave him the evil eye when he came back.
“Sorry. Do you really have a bat named Lucille?”
“I have a bat that thinks it is called Lucille. I just call it a big bat wrapped with barbed wire and sharp pointy things drilled through it that has the potential for being lethal. Mitchell made it for me before he left for Basic. He’s the one that tattooed the name Lucille on it.”
He had to get up and walk away again, this time snickering and holding his stomach.
Next time he came back he asked, “How’s your head?”
“It’s been better. How do I help with Mr. Barnes?”
That took the laughter away. “You don’t. Not yet.”
“But …”
“Mina, Uncle James … look, you push him too hard, and he’ll go the opposite direction. Aunt Maggie is trying to get him to have the operation his doctor suggested in hopes that it extends his life. Since this is the third recurrence though, he doesn’t have a lot of time to make that decision.”
“Fine. But what do I say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?!”
“Don’t even act like you know. Just continue being you. He values that. And I’m beginning to understand why.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you remind me a lot of Aunt Jean … his wife. She could be a firecracker too.”
“I’m not a firecracker. I’m me. And I’m aware that being me isn’t always comfortable for other people. I’m working on my mouth. Just after yesterday I’m not completely interested in watching my mouth the way I was. So … I’m sorry.”
“You’re human. And … being you has helped me with Daniel. The kid is a lot better than he used to be.”
“That’s just getting his diet straight.”
“It’s more than that but it also isn’t something we need to talk about.”
I sighed. “Is this where you think I am recovered enough to handle a lecture? Because if it is I’d be willing to act pitiful again.”
His mouth twitched. “I think at this point a lecture isn’t needed. That said?”
“Watch my p’s, q’s, and what they call my sixes at Sheepdog.”
“Yeah. And I’m also going to sound forward as hell.” I got a little wary. My mouth nearly fell open when he asked, “Would you consider letting me pull my trailer here and renting storage space for it?”
“’Scuse me?”
“It wouldn’t be until after the first of the year. Aunt Maggie is deeding her house over to her son from her first marriage. Taylor is a good guy but there’s history. I’ve got a place I can take Daniel and live … at least for a couple of months … but it is a garage apartment and there’s not room for much.”
“What kind of history?” I asked despite warning myself not to get involved.
“History called Felicia. Her husband was Taylor’s cousin from the other side of the family. It’s actually how they met. That side of the family has always questioned the paternity and … still do.”
“Oh. That kind of history.” I must have been suffering temporary insanity. That’s my only excuse. “Sure. Why not. And after I get more things cleaned out of the barn you can even pull it in there and out of sight. Valuables you can store in the carriage house apartment thingie that is over the garage.”
“Uh … you’re serious?”
“Was yours a serious enquiry?”
“Actually … yes it was.”
“Then just accept. Sometimes you’re the bug and sometimes you’re the windshield. This way neither one of us has to be either one, nor do we have to have people get in our business and make things harder. If you don’t want to store things in the barn you can maybe stick it all up in the apartment. C’mon.” My head wasn’t pounding quite as bad, but I still wasn’t happy about climbing the stairs. Then I remembered what I had stored in there. “Look, I’m still cleaning and organizing. The space is clean, but I have some … stuff … stored in the space. If we agree, I’ll get everything moved. And I’m not stupid, you’ll need keys and all the rest, like a clicker for the gates. But … um …”
“Well I’m not stupid either. I expect we’ll have to compromise as we go along. We can work that out as soon as we both see if this is something we can do.”
I’m certifiable. But to me it looked like a way to find an ally that was no more interested than I was in the sickly sweet fairytale … or soap opera … some people wanted us to be actors in. We talked and he said it might not be until the beginning of the year and I was hopeful by then of having full custody of the twins.