Chapter Ten
Libby laid the sealed envelope with her paycheck aside, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and flopped down on the sofa in her apartment on Thursday evening. Before she even twisted the lid off the water, she rolled the icy-cold plastic bottle over her sweaty forehead. Every inch of her T-shirt was soaked with sweat, and her underpants were stuck to her body. Cleaning out file drawers for three days in the office was nothing compared to unloading and getting a trailer load of heavy oak furniture positioned in a steamy, hot warehouse.
“Benny should bill the place as the Sawmill Spa Steam Room and charge admission to come inside.” She shivered in the cool air flowing from the overhead vent right above her.
She could take a nice, cool bath and read a few chapters of the next club book, but poor Benny had to rush to his trailer, take a shower, and then go on a date with Miss Tatum, who had to have been the one who’d left a joint in the store. Libby sat up, opened her bottle of water, and gulped down several long drinks.
Why didn’t you tell him that Tatum had been in the store? the pesky voice in her head asked.
Libby stood up, set her water bottle on the coffee table, and peeled her shirt off her sticky body. “I am not a snitch. Like Victoria always told me, finding out things for myself is better than being told by someone else.”
She finished undressing on the way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of her clothing on the floor behind her. She adjusted the bathwater to barely lukewarm and crawled in when the bottom of the tub was covered with only a couple of inches. She propped her neck on the rounded edge of its sloped back and closed her eyes.
She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but within seconds she was off in a dream world, transported back to the day that one of Victoria’s best friends brought her the unopened box that plagued her thoughts at least once a day and had now slipped into her dreams.
In her dream, she took the box, used a bottle of vodka for accelerant, and set it on fire. Then her grandmother literally flew in from the clouds and blew the blaze away like she was blowing out candles on a birthday cake. She shook her finger at Libby and set her mouth in the firm line that meant she was really angry, and said, “You have to open this someday to understand.”
“Understand what?” Libby muttered, and opened her eyes to see that the bathwater was about to overflow. She glanced around to be sure that the box hadn’t transported itself to her bathroom. Unfortunately, she remembered it was still sitting in the living area, where she had put it when it arrived earlier that day.
There are several steps to grieving for a loved one, she reminded herself. “I skipped the first one about denial and went straight to anger,” she said. She couldn’t even put a finger on why she was upset. The money that Victoria had squandered away was hers to handle however she wanted. All she’d promised Libby was that she had enough put back to pay for her college, and part of that was what Libby had saved from working in the antique shop.
She quickly stood up, turned off the faucet, and stepped out onto the bathroom rug. The sun had set, leaving the apartment in darkness. She wrapped a towel around her body, left the bathroom, and felt along the wall for a light switch. Then she remembered that she had to use the wooden thread spool and pull the cord. She groped around in the dark for a full minute before she gave the spool a jerk, and the light from the bare bulb illuminated the room, and she could breathe.
She glared at the box with the words For Libby written on the end in Victoria’s fancy handwriting. She blinked several times and looked away. If she left it alone, whatever was inside couldn’t hurt her. But if she ripped the tape off and saw what was inside, it could very easily be like Pandora’s box and cause her nothing but heartache. Better to ignore the thing and not know.
She took it off the shelf, turned it around so the other end was showing, and shoved it back in the same spot. Now it was only a box with a faded label that declared it was full of reams of paper.
Benny was splashing on aftershave when his phone rang. He hit the accept button and then the one for the speaker. “Hello, Opal,” he said.
“I just wanted to tell you to have a good time on your date tonight,” Opal said. “Tatum is really looking forward to it, and she even bought a brand-new outfit especially for you. We appreciate you picking her up from Sally’s.”
Benny covered a yawn with his hand and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Tell him about tomorrow,” Minilee yelled in the background.
“We’re going to drive up to Hugo, too, and go to a craft fair with Sally, and then we’re going to play dominoes with her and Ilene. We should be home before dark,” Opal told him.
“Have fun,” Benny said, wishing he could curl up on his sofa and watch reruns of Longmire on television—maybe even with a cold beer in his hand. He had brought home a trailer full of merchandise, and even with Libby’s help, unloading it had just about used up every drop of his energy. A visual of the four old women sitting around in Sally’s living room, passing a joint back and forth, put a grin on his face.
“You too,” Opal said in a cheerful voice.
He hit the end button on the phone’s screen, got dressed, and took time to stop and pet Elvis. “Hold down the fort until I get back, and maybe we’ll have time for one Walt Longmire episode before bedtime. There might even be a wolf or an owl on the show for you to growl at.”
He’d been to Sally’s house only once before but had no trouble finding the place since it sat right off the highway. It was still painted bright blue, with white shutters and trim, like it had been back when Opal took him with her to Hugo and they’d stopped by Sally’s to pick her up. He got out of the truck and shook the legs of his jeans down over his boots.
“That’s where the marijuana came from,” he whispered as he got a faint whiff of skunk before he even reached the porch. Sally must still be sneaking a little pot every so often, and she had dropped one of her joints when she came by the store. Opal would throw a pure old southern hissy fit—as his grandfather used to say—if she knew what her younger sister was doing. But Benny wasn’t about to tattle on a seventy-year-old woman.
He raised a hand to knock on the door, only to have it swing open before his knuckles contacted the wood frame.
“Well, hello,” Tatum said. “Don’t you look handsome.”
“I pale in comparison to you,” Benny said and hoped that the line wasn’t too mushy. “Are you ready?”
She took a step out onto the porch and nodded. “Yes, I am, and I’m starving. Aunt Sally wanted to be here and take a picture of us before we left on our first date, but she’s got a meeting with the ladies from her Sunday school class. Something about a wedding shower they’re throwing for one of the local girls. I’m kind of glad. It’s not like this is a high school prom.”
“Small towns have a different set of rules,” Benny said as he escorted her to his truck and opened the passenger door for her. Maybe the smell that the breeze had brought to his nose was really a skunk and not marijuana. He reminded himself to check out all the plants around the blackberry patch.
She slid into the seat and immediately sneezed. “Something must be pollinating.” She barely got the words out before another sneeze came, sounding like a full-fledged tornado. “Sorry about that.” She smiled and grabbed a McDonald’s napkin from the console.
“I guess allergy season—”
“Has a dog been in this vehicle?” she gasped, just before another round of uncontrollable sneezing started as she buckled her seat belt.
“I have a dog, and he goes with me on trips,” Benny admitted. “I was petting him before I left Sawmill.” A wave of relief at the idea that the date might have an early end washed over him.
Tatum unfastened the seat belt and jumped out of the truck so fast that she was barely a blur. “We’ll have to take my car. I’m allergic to dogs. Let me take a shower and an allergy pill before my eyes swell shut.”
“I’m really sorry,” Benny said and felt guilty for lying to her. “I had no idea you couldn’t be around animals.”
She stopped when she was on the porch and turned around. “Just dogs. Cats don’t bother me, but I hate them anyway, and now you know. I thought I was allergic to the old furniture when I had a minor attack at the antique store yesterday. I bet your dog had been in there.”
An attack at the store? Benny closed the passenger door, rounded the front of the vehicle, and opened the driver’s-side door. “He comes and goes wherever he pleases.”
Tatum kissed him on the cheek. The smell that her perfume couldn’t cover up left no doubt that a little black-and-white-striped animal was not the source of the pungent scent that evening.
“We can reschedule, darlin’,” she said and sneezed again. “Maybe we’ll just meet at the restaurant, and you can borrow Aunt Opal’s car. I’ll take an extra allergy pill, and you can be sure to stay away from the dog before you leave.” She hurried inside the house.
“We’ll talk about that later.” Benny closed the door and waved as he drove away. “I don’t think there will be another date,” he muttered. “Even if we got serious, I would not give up Elvis, and I sure don’t want to find joints stuck all over the place.”
Texas sunsets were always beautiful, but that night, the sky was painted in a bright array of pinks, purples, oranges, and even a streak of minty green. Down to the southwest, a bank of dark clouds rolled in slowly and blotted out the beauty of the sunset. Grandpa Walter would have called it an omen—a sign to let Benny know he had been saved from taking steps down the wrong path. He had never been keen on dating Tatum, but there weren’t a lot of choices or even chances for dates in a community with a population of three—no, make that four now, and five if he counted Elvis. Plus, he didn’t want to disappoint Opal.
He couldn’t believe that no one, not even Opal, had mentioned Tatum’s allergy to dogs. But to be fair, he’d been around her only a few times when they were young, and back then, there’d been no pets in their community.
The sky was split when he reached Sawmill. Half of it had a lovely sunset on the western horizon. The other part looked like a tornado funnel could drop down out of the clouds any minute. A bolt of lightning zigzagged through the sky and lit up the dark part. It reminded him of the two different paths he could take in his life. He could be married to his job like his father—a businessman who didn’t want anything to do with antiques and had little time for his own dad or for Benny—or he could make a different choice and enjoy a family of his own. The latter appealed to him more, but he would choose the first option if Tatum was involved. A few seconds later, thunder rolled. He parked the truck and was on his way to let Elvis into the trailer when Opal yelled at him from across the street.
“You back already?” she asked.
“Had a little problem,” he answered.
“What kind? Is she sick, or are you?” Minilee asked.
He walked across the street with Elvis at his side. “No one told me that Tatum is allergic to dogs.”
“I forgot all about that,” Opal gasped. “And to tell the truth, I thought she’d outgrown that when she was in the service. What happened?”
Benny sat down on the top porch step. “She got into my truck and had a sneezing fit. She went inside to take a shower and get some medicine. I came home.”
“Does that mean we’re back to square one in looking for a wife for you?” Minilee asked.
“Unless you want to rehome Elvis,” Opal suggested.
“Not a chance,” Benny said, shaking his head. “I promised my friend that I would take care of Elvis. I won’t go back on my word.”
Minilee sighed. “Well, there goes that dream of you really being kin to us. That’s probably why she sneezed in the store yesterday. She was only there for a few minutes before we came home for lunch. Opal made her favorite soup, and she showed us the dress she’d bought for your date.”
“Aha,” he said under his breath as his earlier suspicion was confirmed.
“We thought it was the pollen or maybe something in the old settee where she was sitting,” Opal said. “It was almost time to leave, anyway, so I yelled through the office door and told Libby we were leaving.”
“She stood up and dropped her purse when she sneezed. Everything spilled out on the settee, and she found an old buffalo nickel when she was gathering up her things.” Minilee took a step toward the door. “I’ll get it for you.”
“Keep it,” Benny said with a smile. It all makes sense. “Put it in your coin collection.”
“Well, thank you very much,” Minilee said with a wide smile.
“I’m so disappointed that I’m going to go inside and have a big piece of chocolate cake. You want some?” Opal asked Benny.
“No, thank you,” he answered. “I’m going over to my trailer and popping a frozen pizza in the oven, and then Elvis and I are going to watch some television if the storm doesn’t knock out the electricity.” Benny refrained from slapping his forehead over his earlier misjudgment.
The voice in his head didn’t share the same restraint: You jumped to conclusions and blamed Libby.
Libby was reading the novel for book club when she heard the crunch of gravel heralding a vehicle coming down Sawmill Road. Then headlights flashed through the window above her sofa, and she laid the book aside and went to the front room and looked out the window. Benny got out of his truck. Opal yelled something across the road, and then Benny walked over that way.
“Good Lord!” she gasped. “Have I been reading that long, or did I fall asleep for a couple of hours?” She pulled her phone from her hip pocket and checked the time. He had been gone only thirty minutes.
Even though bits and pieces of their conversation floated across the road, she didn’t understand what they were talking about. She went back to her book, and a streak of lightning zigzagged through the sky with a clap of thunder right behind it. She put the book aside and lit the candle that had been left on the cabinet. Even that tiny bit of light would keep her from going into a panic if the electricity went out.
Benny’s deep voice was clear as he crossed over to his trailer. “Come on, Elvis. Let’s get inside before the rain starts.”
Libby settled down on the sofa and was in the middle of an emotional scene in the book when it sounded like a load of rocks had been dropped on the roof. Then poof! The electricity went out. The air conditioner and the refrigerator stopped humming, but the three wicks on the jar candle provided enough light to keep it from being completely dark.
She traipsed through the book club room, opened the front door, and stepped out onto the porch. She sat down in one of the chairs and watched the lightning as thunder crashed around her. The sweet smell of rain surrounded her. A dim light flowed through the window in Opal’s house, and a couple of times, the lace curtains were pulled back, but no one came out to enjoy the sheer beauty of the storm.
It passed over Sawmill within half an hour, leaving behind a clean scent and a sky full of stars that looked like diamonds had been strewn over dark blue velvet. She heard the trailer door open, and in a few seconds, Benny came around the corner of the station. Elvis beat him up onto the porch and laid his head in Libby’s lap.
“Is he afraid of storms?” she asked.
“No,” Benny replied as he went to the cooler and opened it. “Want a beer?”
“Love one,” she answered.
He took out two longneck bottles, twisted the caps off both and handed one to her, and then sat down across from her at the table. “What about you? Do storms frighten you?”
Libby shook her head and then took a long drink of the cold beer. “I think they are beautiful and a powerful source of protection.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I was left alone a lot when I was young. I figured that evil people weren’t so stupid that they would come out in bad weather, so during that time, I was safe,” she explained. “The way storms fascinate me, maybe I should have been a tornado chaser. Did the weather knock out the electricity in the restaurant where you and Tatum were going?”
“Nope,” Benny answered. “I came home early.”
The only sound that Libby heard for the next two or three awkward moments was a few crickets, who seemed to be glad for the cool front that the storm had left behind, and some tree frogs out in the distance.
“She’s allergic to dogs,” Benny finally said. “Why didn’t you tell me that she was in the store yesterday?”
“It wasn’t my place to tattle—and for your information, I did have the door closed most of the day. She poked her head inside one time when I was muttering about the spiders being like a military force,” Libby admitted. “It didn’t take her long to retreat when she saw all those granddaddy longlegs. If I remember right, I told you to talk to Minilee and Opal. Was it her marijuana?”
“Most likely,” Benny answered. “I’m sorry that I accused you.”
“Apology accepted.” A surge of gladness filled Libby’s heart, not only because she had been right about Tatum, but because Benny was man enough to apologize. “Lots of folks smoke a little. You can’t hold that against her. Did you reschedule the date?”
“No, and I do not intend to do so,” Benny said. “We might as well nip this in the bud—no pun intended. She can’t be around dogs. I won’t give Elvis up. So it’s over.”
Libby laid her hand on Elvis’s head and rubbed the spot between his ears.
“Elvis lost a leg defending my best friend. When they were taking my best friend, Grady, into surgery, I promised him if he didn’t wake up, I would take care of Elvis. I don’t go back on my word.” Benny took a sip of his beer and shook his head.
“Does Opal know?”
“Yes, she does.”
“She may be pissy for the next few days. She had her heart set on you marrying Tatum,” Libby said.
“Yep, but that probably wasn’t ever going to happen anyway. Tatum has always been too ...” He paused.
“Too what?” Libby asked.
“Too everything for me,” Benny answered, stood up, and tossed his empty bottle into a nearby trash can.
She stood up and took a step toward the door. “Then why did you ask her out?”
“I didn’t want Opal to be all pissy,” he said with a grin. “And besides, she did the asking, not me.”
“She’ll call again.”
Benny frowned. “What makes you think that?”
“You are rich, and even if you weren’t, just look in the mirror. You’d be quite the catch, Benny Taylor. I’m surprised that you haven’t installed one of those number machines on the front of the store so women can peel off a piece of paper that says when their turn will be,” she said with half a giggle as she stepped inside.
“Yeah, right,” he chuckled.
“Good night, Benny. See you in the morning.” The rattle of the air conditioner turning back on stopped her. “Would you look at that? The lights are back on, too. Think that’s a sign?”
“Yep, that the storm is over and the beer isn’t going to get warm.” He nodded before he disappeared into the night with Elvis at his side.