Chapter Fifteen
Libby was on the last leg of her early-morning run Tuesday morning when she heard the rumble of a vehicle rolling down the gravel road. Then the wind blew a fine mist of gray dust toward her. She stopped at the porch in time to see the tail end of the trailer in the distance. Benny had said the day before that he was heading to northern Oklahoma to check out two huge estate auctions and wouldn’t be home until Thursday.
Back at the service station, she grabbed a bottle of water, let Fancy out of the apartment, and sat down in one of the chairs. “Your job is to guard the store and keep all the snakes, spiders, and mice at bay today while I work on the computer.”
Fancy’s tail wagged so fast that it was a blur.
“I’ll take that as a promise to protect me,” she said and then realized that she had slept through the night without nightmares.
“Hmm,” she mused. “You must be my good luck charm. Maybe tonight we’ll try to do without a night-light. Think we can handle such a big thing?”
Fancy sniffed the air and stared at the house across the street.
“It’s bacon and coffee,” Libby told her. “I’ll introduce you to them later, when they pop into the shop. Just between me and you, I think they’re checkin’ up on me and reporting back to Benny. Not that I would throw blame at either of them. They don’t really know me—yet.”
Opal stepped out on the porch in a red-and-white-checked gingham robe over a pair of blue silk pajamas and waved. “You had breakfast yet? We’ve got leftovers we can bring over, if you don’t mind us coming before we get dressed.”
“No, I haven’t, and come as you are,” Libby yelled across the road.
“Be there in five minutes. Put on a pot of coffee, and we’ll have a visit,” Opal hollered and then went back into the house.
The coffeepot had just begun to gurgle when Opal and Minilee came inside the station and set a plate covered with plastic wrap on the table.
“Good Lord!” Libby gasped. “That’s enough food for three meals.”
“We figured you could use the leftover eggs and bacon to stuff inside the biscuits for your breakfast tomorrow. Now, sit down and eat before it all gets cold. We’ll get the coffee when it’s done. We want to know how the day went yesterday,” Minilee said.
Opal pulled out a chair, sat down, and glanced down at Fancy. “Just tell us about it between bites.”
“You aren’t going to ask about the new dog?” Libby took the first bite of eggs.
“Tatum called and said you had gotten one,” Opal answered. “You do know that dogs of any size can’t come into my house, don’t you?”
Fancy tucked her head down and went over to where Minilee was standing beside the cabinet.
“That was hateful,” Minilee scolded. “But then, Tatum had to get her attitude somewhere.”
“I’m just stating facts.” Opal shook her finger at Minilee. “Tatum is my great-niece, and she comes before a dog.”
Minilee reached down, picked Fancy up, and hugged her. “You can come to my house anytime you want. Tatum is just shirttail kin to me, and I already like you better than I do her.”
“Minilee Stephens!” Opal gasped. “What has gotten into you?”
“I really thought that Tatum would be a good match for our Benny, but I’ve changed my mind. From the way she’s acting, she’s only interested in his money so she can be one of them social butterflies like the people on those reality shows I don’t like. She would never be happy here in Sawmill or helping Benny in the store. And he wouldn’t be happy anywhere else. They just ain’t a match. She won’t even call him Benny!” She put Fancy on the floor and poured three mugs full of coffee.
The tension jacked up so high that Libby felt it sucking the oxygen right out of the room, and she wondered if the two elderly ladies might start slinging fists. Fancy escaped through the open door into the apartment, and Libby wished she could follow her. As wonderful as the breakfast tasted, she would rather eat a toaster pastry than listen to Opal and Minilee stand off like a couple of banty roosters.
“Okay, okay. You’re right, but it pains me to admit it,” Opal finally said. “And the dog still can’t come into my house.”
Minilee brought the coffee to the table. “That’s your right, but I like the little critter, and she can visit me anytime she pleases. I won’t let Elvis in because he’s too big, but ...” Her focus went from Opal to Libby. “What’s her name, anyway?”
“She was already named Fancy when I got her at the garage sale. An older lady had had her from the time she was a newborn puppy.” Libby was glad the subject had gotten away from Tatum.
“Don’t look at me like that, Minilee,” Opal scolded. “I don’t hate the dog. I just have to think of family first. Now, let’s put all that aside and talk about something else.”
“I agree,” Minilee said with a nod. “We were at a church committee meeting for hiring a new preacher when y’all came in yesterday, so we want to hear all about the day.”
“We found a great garage sale and bought out the whole place,” Libby answered. “We picked out what we wanted for the store, and then the lady who was selling her aunt’s things called a shelter to come get the rest of the merchandise to sell. But”—she paused and took a sip of coffee—“the only way that she would make a deal with us was if we took Fancy. She was going to send Fancy to the shelter if someone didn’t adopt her that day. We got a trailer load of really good stuff.”
“That was a good move, and now you’ve got a little critter to protect you,” Minilee said.
“I think maybe you are right,” Libby agreed. “I didn’t have nightmares last night. I slept better than I have in years. I believe it’s because Fancy protected me.”
“That wee thing couldn’t do anything but bark and maybe chew on someone’s ankle.” Opal giggled. “If she was a boy dog, she might take a whiz on their shoes.”
Libby almost choked on a bite of bacon. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Just speakin’ the truth,” Opal said, laughing harder.
“What about the estate sales? Did y’all come right back to Sawmill, or did you go ahead and hit them up?” Minilee asked.
“We went to one in Marshall and then drove back to Jefferson for another one. Didn’t buy anything at either of them,” Libby replied. “But ...” She went on to tell them about the house where she had grown up.
“I thought I’d have some sense of closure if I ever faced off with that house again, but it didn’t work so well,” she admitted and blinked away a tear.
“How did you feel when you went back inside your old bedroom?” Minilee asked.
Libby finished off the last bite of the eggs and bit into a biscuit that had been slathered with butter. “Strange is the only word that comes close to describing the feeling. I could ...” She paused.
Minilee leaned forward in her chair. “What happened there, other than you having to stay alone at night when you were only ten years old?”
“Nothing, other than a lot of fearful nights that I probably brought on myself by watching television shows that kids have no business seeing,” she finally murmured. “The memories were even more vivid because I ran into June—one of my grandmother’s old friends—in the house yesterday. Seeing her, even for a few minutes, and being in that house brought back a whole raft of feelings of abandonment and fear.”
“Go on,” Opal said.
“Did you ever confront Victoria about staying alone?” Minilee asked.
“Not ever. I was too afraid to even think about that. I did tell her about a dream I had one night that was so real that I thought some man had broken into the house. She was more concerned about whether he might have found her stash of cash than she was about my well-being or if it was even real. That taught me to not ever tell her about my night terrors again.” Libby couldn’t believe she had just bared her heart and soul to these two old gals, but she felt better than she had in years.
Opal got up from her chair, rounded the table, and hugged her. “I’m so sorry that you had to live in circumstances like that. A child should feel safe and protected.”
“And loved,” Minilee added. “Did you find a little bit of closure?”
Libby shook her head. “Not even when I went into Victoria’s bedroom. I could swear that I got a whiff of her perfume when I was in there, but she’s been gone too many years for that to even be possible.”
“Most likely, someone walked through there wearing the same scent and left traces of it lingering in the room,” Minilee said. “And, darlin’, don’t rush it. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to finally find closure. Before you can do that, you have to learn to trust your heart. The heart won’t ever lead you wrong.”
“Like in the book we are reading for our club meeting?” Libby asked.
“That’s right. The lady in the book has had lots of past troubles with her own life and with the men she trusted, but she’s working her way through it. If a fictional character can learn to trust people again, then you can, too,” Opal told her.
“Thank you,” Libby said, forcing a smile.
Minilee stood up, refilled their coffee mugs, and then sat back down. “Don’t you worry about anyone breaking in here. Fancy might not be able to attack someone—but, honey, she can sure sound the warning bell, and you are a strong woman. Do you have a weapon? I’ve got a sawed-off shotgun I will loan you.”
“I have pepper spray and a Taser,” Libby told her, “but thank you for the offer.”
“Me and Minilee learned to shoot when we were just married,” Opal said. “There’s snakes out in these parts, and some of them have two legs. I can knock the end out of a beer can at fifty yards, but Minilee is better than I am. And, honey, a bullet travels faster than pepper spray or a Taser.”
“I always wanted to be a sniper in the army, but girls didn’t get to do that back when me and Opal were young,” Minilee said with a great deal of pride mixed with a touch of sadness.
“You ever shot a gun?” Opal asked.
Libby shook her head.
“Well, this evening, after you finish in the office, you come over to our house for supper. After we eat, we’ll take our pistols out in the backyard and set up some targets. When you are comfortable shooting a handgun, we’ll teach you how to load, shoot, and clean a sawed-off shotgun,” Minilee said. “But for now, we should be getting back across the road to get dressed for work. And you need to do the same. Just remember, if anyone tries to break into this place, don’t dial 911—just poke in my number. I’ll get here faster than the police, and I’m a helluva lot meaner than they are. We’ll take care of you, darlin’ girl.”
“Thank you, but—”
“No maybes or buts.” Opal frowned. “If you live out in the boonies, you got to know how to protect yourself. We’ll see you at five for supper. Maybe we’ll even see a snake or two, so we don’t waste ammo.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Libby agreed, but she was already trying to think of excuses not to go. She hadn’t even thought about getting a gun, and now she had a yappy little chihuahua to sound the warning if anyone was around.
Minilee took a step toward the door. “We’ll let you get ready for work now. From what you said, you’ve got a lot of items to catalog in the computer today.”
“We’ll see you in a little while,” Opal assured her. “I want to see all the new stuff, and it might need a thorough cleaning before folks look at it this weekend.”
“Thank you for everything,” Libby said. Opal and Minilee whirled in and out of the antique shop, seeming to have endless energy when it came to their gardening and cooking and the sweetness in their attitude toward her—it was all too much for Libby to take in, but she wanted to grow up and be just like them ... and Dolly.
Minilee stopped, stooped down, and patted Fancy on the head. “You are very welcome. And, honey, scars like the ones on your heart and soul tell you where you have been, but they don’t have to dictate where you are going. You have your whole life ahead of you. Shake off all those fears and enjoy the journey from here on out.”
“I hope I can,” Libby whispered as she walked the ladies to the front porch and watched them cross the road.
Libby had seen target practice on TV. Paper targets with a bull’s-eye right in the middle. Putting a hole in that little thing was the ultimate goal. She was surprised to see a whole row of tin cans hanging on a clothesline with wooden pins, flapping in the wind like someone’s underwear that had been put out to dry on wash day.
“I thought we’d be shooting at—” Libby said.
Minilee butted in. “Honey, if someone is coming at you, they ain’t goin’ to be standing still and waiting for you to take aim. They’ll be in survival mode. You need to learn to shoot a moving target—and better yet, shoot six of them cans off the line before you stop to reload.”
“It’ll teach you to put some faith in yourself,” Opal assured her with a pat on the back. “Until you do that, you won’t ever have closure for any of those bad dreams. Now, lesson number one: make sure the first thing you do is take the safety off.”
“And then you hold the gun like this, not like they do on those gangster shows you see on television. They’re just showing off. When you have to use a gun for protection, you hold it with both hands,” Minilee said. “I’ll show you after we put our earplugs in. This can be noisy business.”
Libby felt a little like the character from the movie she had watched with the kids at the women’s shelter when she shoved the bright orange things in her ears. “I’m Shrek,” she whispered.
“What was that?” Minilee already had the pistol aimed but dropped it to her side.
“Just talking to myself.”
“Okay, then, here we go!” Minilee fired off three shots and knocked two of the cans off the line.
Opal wiped her hands on the tail of her faded apron and boom, boom, boom—two more cans hit the dirt. Then she handed the pistol to Libby.
Hold like this, Libby thought as she took the gun. Aim and fire.
Minilee raised her voice so Libby could hear her. “Don’t be afraid of the gun. It’s a tool to be used in time of need, like a hoe is used to chop off a snake’s head. Never aim it at anyone unless you mean business, and don’t be afraid to shoot if it’s a matter of your own injury or death.”
Libby’s hands were shaking so badly that she lowered the weapon. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Opal encouraged her. “Remember when you were a kid and you used your forefinger and thumb like a gun? Think of it like that. Look down the barrel and fire!”
Libby raised the gun, pictured one of the cans as the faceless man in her dreams, and fired. She missed the target, but she set her mouth in a firm line, narrowed her eyes, and fired two more times. Two cans hit the ground and rattled against each other.
“Way to go, Libby!” Opal and Minilee threw up their hands to high-five her.
She dropped the pistol to her side and slapped both of their palms. “Beginner’s luck.”
“Nope,” Minilee disagreed. “That was raw talent. It took me and Opal weeks to hit even one can.”
“But just in case you are right,” Opal declared, “I’m going to reload that pistol with six more bullets, and you are going to fire it two more times. If you hit four out of six cans, then we’ll go inside, and I’ll show you how to clean your firearm.”
“Can you show me how to load it?” Libby asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Opal said with a nod. “Just push that little lever right there, and the side will pop out. Then you simply put six bullets in their spots and shove it back in place.”
Libby was surprised that her hands were steady as a rock when she loaded the gun with more bullets, but even more so when she put a hole in five out of six cans.
“I’d say that she’s a natural for sure,” Minilee said as she pulled the orange plugs out of her ears.
Opal narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to one side. “Either that or she’s been lying to us about never shooting before.”
Libby handed the gun to Opal and removed her earplugs. “I’m not lying—but I have to admit, that was fun. I pictured the man in my dreams on each can. Now, can I learn how to clean that thing?”
“You sure can,” Minilee said. “We’ll pour up some sweet tea and have a visit about that man while we get these weapons ready to put back.”
“All but the one you are holding. It goes home with you,” Opal told her. “Remember—”
“To keep the safety on until I need it, right?” Libby said before she could finish.
“That’s right,” Opal said with a nod.