Chapter 26
MATT
Night had long since settled over Sea Blue Beach as he joined Dad on the back porch steps after the Starlight’s Tuesday evening session.
“Is Granny skating?” Dad reached into his mini cooler and passed Matt a beer.
“She’s carrying on like nothing’s changing.” The bubbles of the beer felt good on his tired throat. As the evening DJ, he’d mixed things up, resurrecting some of the old racing and tag games, which involved a lot of shouting and whistle blowing, but what a blast. Who could stay depressed trying to Hokey Pokey on wheels? Or feel angry while relay racing to the Jackson 5’s “Rockin’ Robin”?
“I’d expect no less,” Dad said. “She’s been my rock all my life. I’d not be here without her. Without that crazy Starlight.”
“You should tell her that, Dad. She thinks you gave up your dreams for her. Thinks you resent the Starlight.”
“Maybe. I thought she’d get the picture, what with me building my business and raising you here. Though she’s not entirely wrong. Growing up, I had it in my head I was fourth in line behind LJ, the Starlight, and Pa. Maybe even Doc.” Dad set aside his empty beer bottle. “Then we all went to war...”
“Who’s Doc again?”
“The older gentleman who ran with Pa’s crew for a while. We met him when he dug a bullet out of Pa’s shoulder one night.” Dad pointed toward the rink. “In the back room. I think he had a thing for Ma. But for her, there was only Pa. Who didn’t deserve her.” He looked over at Matt. “Just so you know, there’s nothing out there more valuable than family, friends, a good town, and a solid job that allows you to go to your kid’s ball games. When your mom died, that’s when I saw how great your granny was, and I gave up some of my young man foolishness.”
“Hark, Sea Blue Beach! Dupree Knight is expressing tenderness for his ma and son.”
“Don’t be a wise guy.” But there was a layer of affection in Dad’s voice. “I’m not sure I can sleep without the Starlight sign casting its colorful glow over the town. Sometimes even makes me want to skate.”
“If you showed up with skates, Granny would keel over.”
“Probably,” Dad said. “So, you’re going to LA? Any word from Harlow?”
“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. The petitions come down Thursday for verification. Spike and Mary are going to take care of it. I called Harlow, and she’s forgiven me, but we’ve ‘called it a day,’ as she said. Besides, I’m not sure I can compete with Xander Cole anyway.”
“You’re ten times better than Xander Cole. What about your misdemeanor charge? Any word from Bodie?”
“The state attorney has to decide if they have a case. I’m hoping they consider a misdemeanor charge involving a Hollywood star is not worth the hassle. I’d be happy to pay a fine. Even apologize to Cranston.”
“I’ve been thinking about your diarrhea-of-the-mouth issue.”
“You got some Pepto-Bismol wisdom for me?”
“Matt, I think you should call Booker.”
As he chewed on Dad’s advice, the Starlight sign cut through the dark horizon. The wind rose and fell. Somewhere on the next street over, an engine revved.
“I think that’s what’s been eating you up inside all these years. Why you let people walk all over you, crash at your place, trash it. You don’t think you deserve your success because you ruined Booker’s life. Or so you believe.”
“And I’m still messing up people’s lives. Look, Dad, Book blasted me in front of everyone that one Christmas we were both home. He made it clear he never wanted to talk to or see me again.”
“Then you stopped coming home for holidays.”
“I flew you and Granny to my place a couple of times.” Though nothing compared to Christmas at the Starlight. Not even Tinseltown.
“I’ve been thinking about the night you blabbed,” Dad said. “You were supposed to meet him at the Starlight, right? Then you ran into Ricky and Jonas. You never showed.”
“Yeah, so? He was off stealing the test.”
“I wonder if he wanted you to talk him out of it.”
“It’s a decent theory, Pop, but I’m still the one who blabbed. Would Principal Conroy have been more lenient if the whole school didn’t know?”
Matt distracted himself from the familiar sense of guilt by breaking off the twigs and peeling the loose bark from a stick he found at the bottom of the steps.
“Booker is responsible for his own actions. Even his daddy Abel said so. But your friend needed you that night, Matt,” Dad said, “and you never showed. Did you ever apologize to him for that?”
TUESDAY
SEPTEMBER 1940
A girl did the best she could, you know, after her son ran off to join a foreign military. As promised, LJ sent a letter from New York before boarding the Queen Mary.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Ma, but I was afraid you’d talk me out of it, and I wanted to go. Doc says I’ll be well cared for, and there’s a group of American fellas flying for a Charles Sweeney. I promise to be careful. You know I’m good for it. I never lied to you except this. Don’t let Dup get away with anything. I’ve written to him too, told him to help you without giving you lip. I think he’s good for it. Well, the train’s pulling into the station. That’s why my writing is so wobbly. I’ll get this in the nearest postbox. I love you, Ma.
In the first few months he was gone, he wrote often, promised he was thriving, excelling in his training, and learning the ways of the British.
But now England was in the fight. Chamberlain did not broker peace with Herr Hitler, who American journalists called a caricature and a clown. Yet that clown amassed an army, invaded Czechoslovakia after Poland, and, in July, bombed London. As far as Tuesday Knight was concerned, he bombed her boy.
In August, Leroy started showing up. He looked old and worn out, like a man carrying on in sinful living. He puttered around the house, fixing things like the rotted posts on the porch and leaks in the roof. Even fixed the loose floorboard in the kitchen. Thank goodness LJ had removed the deed box. Tuesday made a note to ask him where he’d hidden it in her next letter.
Lee painted the house a pretty blue and hammered new white shutters by the front window. He mowed the lawn and plowed up the front flower bed for perennials. He bought her a new washing machine and showed her plans to expand the kitchen and add on a family room.
Wasn’t that peachy? Yet every night as Leroy mopped the gravy from his plate with her homemade bread, he never said a word about why he was home or about her old potbelly stove.
In September, he showed up with workers and technicians to install central air conditioning at the Starlight. Central. Air. Conditioning. Land sakes alive. At the Starlight! It was practically unheard of in these parts, except for movie theaters, but the old Midnight didn’t have A/C. Dale Cranston Sr., who just remodeled the place with his granddaddy’s inheritance but decided against central air, turned every shade of green.
Tuesday asked Lee a hundred times, “Where did you get the money?”
“Someone owed me a favor,” he answered a hundred times in return.
He pulled out his Richardsons and joined her at the rink several nights a week, and even took a turn playing the Wurlitzer. He only knew one song, but my, how her heart overflowed.
The boss man with the thick brow and beady eyes came around once in a while, inspecting the Starlight with a hungry look in his eyes, talking in low tones to Lee.
Once, after skating and devouring ice cream cones on the porch, Lee dared to ask if she still kept the deed to the rink at the house. And if she’d filed it with the county.
She scooted closer to him, kissed his full, ice cream–sweetened lips. “You know what I said, Lee. If you ever asked about the rink again, I’ll kick you out of my house for the rest of your born days. Hear me?”
By the look on his face, he heard.
Even better than all the buying, skating, loving, and sprucing up, Lee and Dupree talked like men. A high school graduate now, Dup worked for Mr. Day’s carpentry company full-time. In the evenings, he and Leroy listened to the radio and talked sports and war.
It took some time, but Tuesday grew accustomed to her husband being home, though she knew better than to hope this was the new way of things. Lee carried a faraway look in his eyes, and his shoulders sagged under a heaviness known only to him.
One night, as she washed dishes and he rolled a cigarette, she said, “I don’t like you talking to Dup about war, Lee. He’s a dreamer. He’ll get wild ideas in his head, try to join up like his brother did. LJ’s going to lose his citizenship over this. I don’t want Dupree following the same path.”
“LJ will be fine. Once we’re in this thing, the American government will do something for the boys who fought for England. As for Dup, I told him to stick near Sea Blue Beach.” Leroy struck a match, and the fragrance of tobacco filled the kitchen. “Until he gets called up. Though he should be going off to college.”
“What?” Tuesday exclaimed. “Called up?”
“There’s something else too, baby. I talked to my old commander.” Lee moved to the porch door to release a plume of smoke. “I can reenlist, go in at my former rank of sergeant.”
“Reenlist?” Tuesday flung water and suds to the floor as she whirled around. “You’re thinking of going back in the army? You’re forty-two years old. Why would they want you? Why do you want to go? What happened to FDR keeping us out of this?”
“When you see rain clouds gathering...” Leroy took a long drag of his cigarette. “The army wants experienced men. Besides, I done some things I ain’t proud of, Tooz.” Regret tainted his confession. “I told myself I was doing it for you and the boys, getting us to a better life. After all, how can a common working man climb the ladder of success when greedy politicians make laws for their own benefit and hike up the taxes?”
“You don’t have to join the army to redeem yourself, Lee. Just start doing honest work.”
“I ain’t cut out to run a skating rink, Tuesday. Or sack groceries or sweep floors. The boss is after me to run gambling in the back room at the Starlight after closing.” Leroy’s cigarette perfumed the kitchen with tobacco. “I want out of the racket. This ain’t my game, never was, but I tried. Doc said it best. ‘Lee, you’re a fighter.’ He’s right. Ever since the Great War, I ain’t found my place.” He looked into her eyes. “Except with you.” He dropped his cigarette to the porch boards and stamped it out. “I liked soldiering. It was honorable. Compared to what I do now, it’s downright noble.”
Tuesday dried her hands, wrapped her arms about his waist, and rested her head against his chest. “You do what you have to do, Leroy Knight. And when you’re done, I’ll be here, waiting for you.”
He tipped her face up to his with a soft touch on her chin. “You are my starlight, Tuesday Knight. I loved you the first moment I saw you.” His kiss was tender and full of love. “I’m sorry I’ve let you down.”
“You gave me two beautiful boys, a home—”
“Lonely nights.”
“The Starlight.”
“Raising our boys on your own.”
“Yet here we are with two healthy, good sons, a business I love and can run on my own. You may have run around too much for my taste, but you never abandoned me like my mama and granny. You gave me what no one else saw fit to do. You gave me love. Lee, I’ve felt it from the first time you held my hand.”
He wrapped her in his arms and together they faced the cool wind as the first raindrops fell. “I’ll be around for a little while,” he said. “I’ll fix up the house and anything else you need at the Starlight.” He tugged a piece of paper from his pocket. “This is a bank account in New Orleans. Never, ever show it to anyone, hear me? But if you need anything, you call this number and ask for Monte.”
“Lee, I don’t want blood money.”
“It ain’t blood money. In fact, I’ve probably saved it from being blood money.”
“You stole it?”
“From thieves, crooks, murderers, and liars, yes.”
“Then I can’t.” She tried to shove the note away, but Lee folded it into her hand.
“I won’t sleep at night unless you have this, Tooz. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want, but just in case...”
She relented and tucked the paper in her pocket. “Dup’s manning the rink tonight with Treader. How about we drive over to Niceville and see the new Roy Rogers picture, Colorado?”
“You just want to see if the newsreels will update you on the battle in Britain.”
“We might get a glimpse of LJ.”
“How long since you’ve had a letter?”
“Three weeks, maybe more.”
“He’ll write, baby. He loves his mama too much to let her worry.”
“He’s doing a poor job of it at the moment.”
Leroy laughed and patted her bottom. “You get dolled up, Tooz. I’ll finish here.”
Lee doing the dishes? Sakes a’mighty. Miracles happened in Sea Blue Beach. She liked to think the Starlight had a part to play.
At the bathroom sink, she washed her face, put on a bit of rouge and lipstick, then fluffed the curls on the ends of her hair. She slipped from her housedress to the new frock she’d ordered from Montgomery Ward and exchanged her everyday shoes for a pair of low-heeled pumps usually reserved for church, weddings, and funerals. Clipping on a pair of earrings, she glanced out the window toward the Starlight.
When she came down, Leroy had dried and put away the dishes, hung the towel on its rack, combed his hair, and tied his tie.
“I checked the mail.” He motioned to the table. “A couple of bills. I’ll pay those.” He reached for a yellowish envelope. “LJ.”
“A letter? Not a telegram?” Tuesday tore at the flap, but she was shaking so hard, Leroy took over and read aloud. “‘Dear Ma...’”
Just a short note to say I’m fine. Don’t worry. Your boy LJ knows how to take care of himself. I can’t pretend you don’t know how rotten it is over here. The Huns are really giving it to us. I’d like to say the blitzkriegs are propaganda, but we hear the Messerschmidts day and night. Us chaps on base are all right. We play cards and listen to Glen Miller, but everyone in England, especially London, is pretty jacked. They’re sending all the kids to the country. I’m glad I’m here, Ma. Glad to do my bit. It’s not just about flying—though no lie, I dig it—but to fight for the good guys. I think of Pa and the Great War. Maybe I’ll help save the world like he did.
She glanced at Lee, whose eyes glistened.
I miss you and the Starlight. Even that little pest Dupree. How is he? I’ll drop him a line soon. Is he wanting to join up yet? He won’t have to wait long ’cause most of us don’t think the president can keep the good ol’ US of A out. Best get some shut eye. Signing off and hoping to dream of you, Sea Blue Beach, and the Starlight.
Your loving son,
LJ
She pressed the letter to her face and tried to breathe in the scent of her son. “He’s all right, he’s all right.”
“Of course he is.” Leroy said. “He’s a Knight. Let’s get to the movies and maybe catch a glimpse of him on the newsreels.”
“I like what he wrote about you, Lee.” Tuesday tucked the letter inside her purse. She’d read it ten more times before closing her eyes tonight.
“Maybe he’ll stop hating me so much.”
Tuesday slipped her hand into her husband’s. “You know the line between love and hate is thin. So very, very thin.”