The Party Line

Chapter Three

S trawberry season had always been an exciting time of year for me. The berries ripened the first couple of weeks in March in our part of the state. Folks would come from miles around to pick their berries, and Aunt Gracie would let me sit behind the table with her and Mr. Thurman while she helped him with the sales. Everett would be setting up the canopy and tables nearly every morning once the berries began to really redden.

Before I started to school, we didn’t see many people other than Jasper, the folks at church on Sundays, and, until they all passed away, maybe weekly visits from Gracie’s poker friends. So strawberry season was the time when lots of folks came out to Ditto to gather what Gracie called the very best strawberries in Atascosa County. When folks asked Everett how he grew such juicy berries, he would tease and say that it was an old family secret. That morning, when I took my break and carried my glass of sweet tea out to the back porch, the idea of that secret hit me.

Was that little joke about whatever fertilizer or trick they had for strawberries been what had started the rumor that lasted for more than eighty years? I was pondering on that when I heard deep laughter and folks talking. What sounded like a dozen mice fighting over a chunk of cheese came from the hinges of Jasper’s wooden screen door when he pushed it open. I reminded myself to take some oil out there and fix the squeak. Everett followed Jasper outside, both of them still chuckling. They each claimed a rocking chair and set their mugs of coffee on the stump between them. I waved at the two old guys and peeked around the corner of the house to find a tall, dark-haired guy setting up a canopy not far from the house.

“That’s Connor, my grandson,” Everett yelled. “Go on out there and introduce yourself to him. He’ll be taking over the strawberry business this week.”

“He looks busy,” I said, raising my voice. “Maybe some other time.”

Jasper shook his head, frowned, and pointed at me, then swung his finger around toward the strawberry field. I bit back a giggle. There I was, almost thirty years old and still feeling like I had to obey my elders. Since I worked from home these days, I didn’t bother with makeup or getting dressed in anything that resembled a power suit. That morning I was wearing an oversize T-shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton on the front, no shoes, and faded jeans—a step up from my usual pajama bottoms. A pretty stiff breeze sent strands of hair flying around my face. I was in no shape to meet anyone, but if Jasper wanted me to traipse out to where Connor was working, I would do just that.

He saw me coming and laid a wrench down on the long table. He wiped his right hand on the leg of his jeans and stuck it out. “You must be Lila. Grandpa has talked about you often. I’m Connor.”

“I am, and I’m pleased to meet you, Connor.” I looked him right in his mossy green eyes and shook hands with him. When Mama measured my height for my high school–graduation gown, I was just an inch shy of six feet tall. Connor towered over me and had to be at least six feet, three inches. His olive drab T-shirt—the same color as his eyes—stretched across his broad shoulders and did a poor job of covering his ripped abdomen.

“Since we’re neighbors, I reckon it won’t be long until we are friends,” he said and dropped my hand.

“I hear you’re retired from the army.” My fingers still felt hot, as if I had held them up to Aunt Gracie’s fireplace to warm them in the dead cold of winter.

“Not really retired. More like got booted out after sixteen years. The last mission got me this scar,” he said, pointing to his cheek. “Right along with a worse one on my leg. The higher-ups determined that I couldn’t do my job anymore, so they sent me packing with a medical discharge. Not to worry, though; Grandpa says that I’m capable of running a strawberry stand. If I do that well, then I get to sit on the board of directors at his oil company in San Antonio sometime in the future.” He punctuated that with a chuckle.

I twisted my hair up and secured it with an elastic ponytail holder. “How does he determine if you did the job well?”

“I really don’t know. I haven’t ever had a list of what the criteria is for that particular job”—he shook his head with a smile—“and don’t really care because I’m not so sure I want to wear a suit and drive to San Antonio every day, either.” He waved over the canvas canopy he had already set up so the table would have some shade. “Come on into my parlor here and have a seat. I won’t be leaving until Grandpa’s done visiting Jasper. Those two old guys will talk for a while yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if Grandpa doesn’t come with me every day just to visit with Jasper. They do love to reminisce.”

I rounded the end of the table and sat down in the nearest chair. “When I was home last year, there were only three chairs: one for Jasper, one for Everett, and one for Aunt Gracie.”

“Yep, but Grandpa told me to set up four chairs, and the military taught me to obey orders.” He handed me a basket full of ripe strawberries he must have picked that very day. “Have a snack while we visit. The new order of things is that there’s a chair for me, one for each of the old guys, and one for you when you bring us sandwiches and tea for lunch.”

I hadn’t been aware that the job of providing sandwiches had come with my inheritance from Aunt Gracie, and I started to argue. But the pesky voice inside my head whispered softly, This would be a great opportunity for you to hear their stories—and besides, that Connor is one good-looking fellow.

“Thanks for the strawberries and for the chair.” I used my thumbnail to remove the green leaves from the end of a plump red berry before I popped it into my mouth.

“You are welcome,” Connor said. “I am sorry about Gracie. We would have been at the graveside service, but Grandpa said she told him that she wanted to go out of this world without any fanfare.”

“Thank you for honoring her wishes. We tried to do things just like she wanted. Though you should hear Jasper be crabby about the lack of visitors.”

Connor sat down in the chair at the far end of the table. “Grandpa told me that her passing made him get on the ball about making some new arrangements in his life. I don’t know what they are, but he and his lawyer spent several hours in his office this past week.”

“Aunt Gracie had everything written down—even to which hairdresser was to fix her hair and what red pantsuit we were to bury her in. I figured she would leave the house to my mother—but then, she knew how Mama felt about the place. I’m rambling on ...,” I said and popped another strawberry in my mouth. I tended to talk too much when I was nervous, and a mouth full of food would keep me from doing that.

“You can ramble all you want. I love to hear you talk. Seems like I lost a lot of my accent while I was in the military,” Connor said.

No one had ever told me that they liked my accent—but then, I’d lived in Texas my entire life and had only traveled to a couple of other states. “Thank you.” I paused. “I think.”

“It was a compliment,” he said with a grin that deepened the scar on his cheek. “If you want to know for sure if I’m giving you a compliment, here’s another one: you are a beautiful woman.”

Blushing makes every freckle on my face stand out like Christmas lights, so I fought it, but the redness won the battle. “Thank you,” I muttered as I stood up. “I really should be going now.”

“You are blushing. I’ll take my compliment back if you stay a while longer,” he said.

“No, sir. It’s mine and I’m not giving it back to you. I’m going to think about that the rest of the day. Not many folks outside of family has called me beautiful before.” I liked the little tap dance of desire chasing through my body too much to give any of his words back to him.

He pushed back his chair and followed me across the lawn. “Then you’ve been around the wrong people.”

I reached to open the gate, but he was faster. His hand brushed against mine, and there was that same little surge of heat again. I attributed it to not having had a date in a couple of years. Working from home certainly put a damper on any kind of social life. That, and the fact that most men even near my height ran toward short women who made them feel all macho.

He walked with me all the way to the porch steps and lingered there. “Did moving to Ditto give you a dose of culture shock?”

“A little,” I admitted. “How about you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned. “But Poteet is only five minutes down the road, and it’s got a little more to offer.”

“And San Antonio isn’t even half an hour away.”

He nodded toward Jasper’s place. “What do you think they’re laughing about?”

“Jasper is older than Everett, but they’ve lived through a lot of the same eras. They’ve got a lot of memories to talk about—or old jokes that only they would think are still funny.”

“You got that right. So, are you going to really live here, or is this just a stopover until you find out what you really want to do?”

“I have no idea.” Where did that answer come from, the back corner of my mind? At this moment in time, I planned to live in Ditto forever. I noticed that he was waiting for me to say more, so I turned it back on him. “How about you? When do you get the fancy oil-business crown?”

“Very funny. I’m next in line to take over the business, but I need to learn everything I can from Grandpa,” he answered. “I hope he lives to be a hundred or even beyond that. I figure it will take me that long to be ready to step into his old work boots.”

“Starting tomorrow, you will likely know about the selling portion of the strawberry business,” I said.

“More than that. I was here for the strawberry season last fall, and then I’ve been helping the crew take care of things since the spring season started.”

“That’s a step in the right direction.” I put a foot on the lower porch step and tried to ignore the sparks dancing around like little fairies above my head. “Nice meeting you, Connor. My break time is over, so I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said.

I worked on the files that had been sent to me the day before, but thoughts of Connor distracted me several times. He had liked my accent, and he’d said I was beautiful. I sure hoped he didn’t think that a couple of compliments would cause me to lead him up to my bedroom. I’d played a similar game a few times before, and it had not ended well.

Because I had spent a few extra minutes on my break that morning, and time got away from me at noon, my workday didn’t end until five thirty that evening. I was starving, so I heated up what was left of the takeout I had brought home on Sunday and ate it standing up by the counter. I had just finished off the last bite when Mama knocked on the back door and poked her head inside. “Hey, I’m going into town to get some groceries. Want to go with me?”

“Sure,” I said with a nod, “and maybe we can get an ice cream cone afterwards?”

“Sounds good. Meet you in the car.”

“Be there soon as I put on some shoes and grab my purse.” I washed my plate and fork and put them in the dish drainer.

Hopefully, there would come a day when Mama would be comfortable in Aunt Gracie’s house, but today wasn’t that day. But whether she did or did not, she was still my mother, and it didn’t matter if we spent time together in her house or in mine. Calling Aunt Gracie’s place mine still seemed strange when the word came to my mind, and even stranger in my ears when I said it out loud.

Mama was listening to the playlist on her phone when I slid into the passenger’s seat. George Strait was singing “Check Yes or No,” and she was keeping time with her thumbs on the steering wheel.

“I went to see George three years ago,” she said. “He and Chris Stapleton were touring together. They were both fabulous.”

I set my purse on the floor and fastened my seat belt. “I remember how excited you were, and that you came home and started listening to Chris as well as George.”

“Aside from having the blessings of you and Aunt Gracie, that was one of the highlights of my life,” she said and then frowned.

“Whoa!” I said. “You were smiling one minute, and then it turned into a frown. What happened now?”

“Annie, my friend from Annie’s Café, called me today and offered me a job,” she blurted out.

“So now you have three options.”

“Yes, I do, and I was struggling with two,” she admitted. “But we’ll think about that tomorrow. Today, we’re going to talk about you and how you are adjusting to living in that house .”

“Did Aunt Gracie’s place always affect you this way?”

She started the engine and turned to face me. “Not as much as it has since Aunt Gracie died. There was a feeling in it when you were little, but not like now.”

“What kind of feeling?” I bent forward and groped around in my purse until I found my sunglasses.

“I can’t describe it. Just something unsettling, like that awkward feeling you get when you walk up on some folks having a conversation and they suddenly quit talking. You know they are talking about you, but you aren’t sure how to handle it gracefully.”

“Kind of like someone is pushing you out the door?” I asked.

“That’s right!” She nodded as she released the parking brake. “Aunt Gracie wouldn’t ever make me feel like that. But someone in that place doesn’t want me there.”

“But, Mama, I’m the only one there, and I would be happy if you moved in with me,” I told her. “I get lonely rattling around in that place by myself.”

“You’ve got Jasper, and you can always come to my house.”

At that moment Connor and Everett came around the end of the house and got into a dark blue pickup truck. They both waved, and Mama stuck her arm out the open window on her side and waved back.

“That Connor is a good-lookin’ guy. He and Everett always leave a good tip when they eat at my place.” She put her vehicle in gear and drove down the lane.

“You are changing the subject,” I said.

“Yes, I am, and I’m also telling you to be real careful of him, Lila.”

“Why’s that?” I enjoyed the fresh spring wind flowing through the truck, even if it was blowing my hair in my face.

“Since he moved back to this area, he approached Aunt Gracie several times with an offer to buy her house and land. Offered her more than it was worth, even.” Mama fumbled around in the console and handed me a ponytail tie. She always seemed to have exactly what I needed, either in her purse, in the pocket of her jeans, or hidden away in the car. “I don’t have a brush, so you’ll have to just finger comb it up.”

“I actually met Connor today, Mama. He’s going to run the strawberry business this next week. I expect the folks who want to pick their own berries will keep the road hot and dusty until the plants are bare. He asked me if I planned to stay in the house or if I was just here until I could figure out if I wanted to stick around for the long haul. Maybe not in those words, but something similar.”

“He’s layin’ the groundwork to sweet-talk you into selling out to him,” Mama said. “It’s your property, but you need to think long and hard before getting rid of it. It’s been in the family for more than a hundred years. Gracie was born in that house.”

I bit back a giggle. “You won’t even come inside the house unless you have to. I’d think that you would be glad to see me sell it, take the money that’s been left to me, and move far away from the eerie feeling you get in the place.”

“Don’t laugh at me.” Her voice went into that scolding mode I recognized from my youth. “I grew up knowing when something wasn’t right. If I had listened to my heart instead of my hormones, I would have known that your father was never going to be anything but a bad boy.” She sighed and turned onto the road leading to the grocery store. “But then, things happen for a reason. If I hadn’t had you in my life, then who knows what would have happened to me. You were the light in both mine and Aunt Gracie’s world.”

“Even if there were eerie feelings in her house?” I teased.

Mama pulled into a parking spot fairly close to the front of the grocery store. “Yep. She knew how I felt and said she understood, so we usually visited on the porch or else at my place. There at the end of her life, she had me bring her and Jasper takeout from the café several times a week. Rain or shine, she would meet me at the door because she knew how uncomfortable I was in the house, and it’s worse now.”

We got out of the truck at the same time and headed across the parking lot. I slowed my stride to match hers and asked, “Did anyone else feel like that about going in her house?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mama said with a shrug. “Her Sunday school group came about once a year for the monthly meeting that rotated among them. Come to think of it, her turn to be the hostess was always in March—about this time of year. She always ordered food from the café and made strawberry shortcakes for dessert. After she retired, she and several of her friends got together to play poker on Friday nights. That ended maybe ten years ago. She was the last one of her age group when she passed away, other than Jasper.”

Mama grabbed a cart and pulled a list from her big black purse. “Let’s meet back here when we are finished. I don’t need a lot, so it won’t take long.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said and pushed my cart toward the deli. I needed to stock up on sandwich makings for the next week to ten days since I had been given the job of making lunch for “the strawberry crew,” as Aunt Gracie used to call them. On the way to the back of the store where the deli market was located, I picked up a big box of tea bags, five loaves of bread, and two big containers of individually wrapped chips in various flavors. Cookies were on sale, so I added six packages to the cart.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Lila Matthews, is that you?”

I whipped around to see a man who looked vaguely familiar. It seemed like I recognized the voice, but putting it with his face didn’t work. Not one name surfaced.

“Richie Brewer,” he finally said.

My mind felt like a hamster doing double time on a wheel. Where did Richie Brewer fit into my life? With that mop of gray hair hanging down to his shoulders, he looked too old to have gone to school with me.

“I worked at the café with your mama when we were both in high school. I remember when you were born,” he explained. “I was real sorry to hear about your aunt passing away, but I understand you are back here to stay.”

I smiled as if his explanation made all the sense in the world to me. “Yes, I am. It’s good to see you again, Richie. Do you still live in this area?”

“I retired and moved back here six months ago. Lost my wife a couple of years back. Kids are all grown, have kids of their own, and are scattered seven ways to Sunday, as my granny used to say.” He ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. For a minute, I wondered if he was about to ask my permission to go out with my mother. “Well, it’s good to see you again, all grown up. I heard that Gracie left her place to you. Wouldn’t be interested in selling it, would you? A little strawberry farm might be just what I need to keep me busy on a part-time basis.”

“Nope,” I answered. “I plan on staying right out there in Ditto, and Everett Thurman still has the lease on the strawberry farm.”

“If you change your mind, give me a call,” Richie said and pushed his cart on around me.

I nodded but had no intentions of selling my newly acquired property. The warning Mama gave me about Connor popped into my head. Was he just another one in a line of folks who were coming out of the woodwork to get my house?

Mama said she felt an eerie presence in the place, but Jasper never mentioned anything like that. I personally felt a sense of peace there, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep asking about the Poteet secret until I found an answer. She was already at the checkout counter when I pushed my cart to the front of the store. She went on ahead of me and had her full sacks in the back seat of her older model Chevy Silverado truck when I arrived.

“I’d have been here sooner, but I ran into Richie Brewer,” I said.

“Gossip travels faster than the speed of light,” she chuckled. “Gloria Sue and her sister, Tresia, asked me whether I was going to keep working at the café.”

“Hey, Sarah!” A stout woman with salt-and-pepper hair got out of the car that had pulled in beside us. “Are you buying Madge out? I hear her café is up for sale.”

“Not today, Melanie,” Mama said.

While she visited with the lady, I loaded the groceries into the back seat and returned the carts to the front of the store. When I got back, she was behind the wheel and Chris Stapleton was singing “Millionaire.”

“I always wanted that kind of relationship,” she said with a long sigh.

The lyrics talked about having a woman whose love made him feel like a millionaire. Neither of my more serious relationships had ever made me feel like that. I wasn’t even sure if such a thing existed. “If I can’t have one like in the song, then I’ll just be an old maid like Aunt Gracie,” I declared.

Mama backed out of the parking spot, waved at a couple of folks who were walking toward the front of the store, and then pulled out onto the road heading toward town. “I want a strong, healthy, and happy relationship for you. I want grandbabies—and even more than that, I want you to have the joy of being a mother. But never settle for just anything, Lila. Be sure to listen to your heart. It won’t ever lie to you.”

The sound of her voice breaking when she spoke brought tears to my eyes. I’d been super emotional since Aunt Gracie’s funeral, and crying snuck up on me at the strangest times. Like when I heard her voice in my head or when I started to get a coffee mug from the cabinet and saw her favorite one, with a long crack cutting through the words I LOVE MY AUNT . There was never any doubt in my mind that she loved me. But Mama’s words about listening to my heart was the same advice she had given me the last time we visited.

“Why didn’t you ever get married?” I asked.

“I had some trust issues, of course, and I was afraid to bring a stepfather into our family. I’d seen what chaos that created in some of the regular customers at the café.” She sighed. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with someone new in our family.”

“Not all of them were sorry excuses for fathers, though, right?”

“No, they weren’t, but still ...” She paused. “Some were good to the children they got with the marriage license, but it wasn’t the norm. I’m changing the subject because something is making you all emotional. What did Richie Brewer have to say? He asked me out when he first came back to this area, but I turned him down.”

“Why?” I asked.

“There’s no spark, and without that, there’s no passion. I had sparks with Billy, even if he wasn’t a responsible man.” She raised one shoulder in half a shrug.

I thought of the chemistry between Connor and me. Could there be responsibility and heat at the same time?

“Besides, Richie is dating Melanie, the woman that spoke to me back there,” Mama was saying when I tuned back in to what she was saying. “I’ve decided that I don’t want to buy the café. Finding dependable people is tough.”

“Are you thinking about working for Annie, then?”

“I told her that I was weighing my options.” Mama frowned. “That I didn’t really want the responsibility of being an owner and doing all that paperwork, but I wasn’t ready to have a full-time job. She said she would be glad to let me work a few days a week.”

“Did Richie tell you that he wants to buy my house and strawberry field because he wants something to work at part-time?” I asked. “Why is everyone interested in a house that’s over a hundred years old and is possibly haunted, if you are right? Do they think there’s gold hidden in them there walls and under the strawberry fields?”

Mama giggled. “Maybe they want to turn Aunt Gracie’s place into a bed-and-breakfast and bill it as haunted, or maybe they think there’s more oil to be discovered on the acreage that Gracie’s father kept when he sold the company. Or maybe Richie really just wants to have a hobby farm.”

My mind was still trying to figure out why anyone would want to buy property in Ditto when my mother turned left off Highway 16 and onto West Ditto Road. She hadn’t even gotten up to speed yet when she braked so hard that a bag of groceries flew off the back seat and landed upside down in the floor of her truck.

“What the ...?” I squealed and then saw the puppy sitting on the yellow line in the middle of the road.

“People who dump animals out on the road should be hung up by their toenails,” Mama fumed.

“Even cats?” I opened the door and got out of the truck.

“Even cats. Just because I’m allergic to them ... What are you doing?” she yelled out the open window.

“Rescuing a puppy and getting a free pet. We’re going back to town to see the vet and get some food.” I picked up the dog, carried it to the vehicle, and settled into the passenger seat with the pup in my lap.

“You’re lucky I didn’t buy any frozen food, what with this detour,” Mama said. “That thing is going to grow up to be as big as a bear.”

“Be a good guard dog, then—and the backyard is fenced, so he’ll be safe until he gets used to the place. Look at his blue eyes. They are even lighter than mine and yours. I don’t know much about dogs, but a friend of mine in Austin had a white dog with blue eyes just like this one, and he said it was part husky. If this feller grows up to be as big as my friend’s dog was, he might scare away any of those weird feelings you get in the house.”

Mama cut her eyes around at me as she pulled into the vet’s parking lot. “Ain’t dang likely.”