Falling From Grace

Chapter 4

4

T he mornings Pa would stay at Uncle Wayne’s had become precious. It was a luxury to be able to sleep in the one bed with my arms and legs splayed wide across the sheets. But even though Pa hadn’t been here the night before, he still left a suffocating stench, reminding me that this was his territory the moment I opened my eyes. Maybe if I shut them again and whispered a prayer, I’d wake up in the middle of springtime sitting on a porch of my own, underneath my umbrella, holding my baby girl and drinking my sweet iced tea. A morning like that didn’t sound so bad. No morning ever sounded bad with her in my arms. As much as I yearned to continue pampering my aching muscles some more and daydreaming of the what-ifs, the growing light outside willed me to leave the confining walls of the trailer.

With the first glimmers of light catching the edges of the mountains, my problems didn’t seem so big, and no matter what life threw at me I could still stand tall and strong, just as those mountains had for millions of years. Shutting my eyes, I emptied my mind to fully bask in the soul-catching howl of a coyote in the distance. When the light of day had touched across all the land, a sudden movement in my belly caused me to look down. And like the first time I felt her tiny hand or foot kick, I smiled just as big. It was a feeling I could never grow tired of. “What? You hungry, baby? You know, I reckon Sam’s wonderin’ where we are. So let’s go and get some food and keep him company.” I pushed myself off the step and slowly stood, supporting my back with my left hand, feeling another sudden movement.

“Well, aren’t you just a ball of energy this mornin’.”

After a much-needed trip to the bathroom, I walked out of the trailer and slipped on my sandals one at a time. I stepped off the makeshift patio and took not even one step before I had to stop. Using the post for stability, I lifted my right foot and my fingers reached down as far as they could, untwisting the plastic strap of my sandal. I sighed in relief as my nose caught a whiff of black coffee and a hint of motor oil. At first I looked at Arlene and Ray’s trailer for the source of the smell. The kitchen curtain was still shut. Even the porch light was on. Lowering my foot, I walked forward and saw a cup of coffee and a paper plate with a slice of toast sitting on top of an old milk crate across the way.

I halted.

Next to it was a pair of Timberlands underneath the neighbor’s truck, once tan but now covered in layers of motor oil and dirt. Harley sat by the right tire, standing guard and watching his owner, ears raised to the highest point I’d seen. My neighbor then pushed himself out from underneath the truck and dusted off his hands, standing upright. After wiping the sweat from his forehead, he cleaned the grime off his hands with a dirty cloth before reaching for the toast. Only then did he turn around and lean his side against the truck, ripping off a piece. Harley stared up at him, all the more hopeful. The man’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear the words. It was obvious he was talking to Harley. That said, it was the first time I’d ever seen him so relaxed. And much to my surprise, he even smiled. As silly as it was, a part of me hoped that maybe one day someone would smile that way at me, a smile that spoke of a bond that only two like-minded souls shared.

He tossed the bread and watched Harley catch it with ease. He did a double take my way, and suddenly his countenance changed. He shifted his stance as he stood straighter. It was then I realized I had intruded.

“ Mornin’.”

He rubbed the back of his left ear. “Mornin’.”

The sound of his voice was low and soft, and I almost mistook it for the wind. He then looked to the ground, sticking one hand in the pocket of his jeans. Even from afar he seemed hesitant to acknowledge me, possibly more so than he had been just yesterday in his truck. And that’s all it took for the stillness to stretch further and further between us.

“Well, bye now.”

“Hey, um, do you...” he began as he stepped closer to speak, but instead he cleared his throat as if another part kept him from doing so. I stared at him, wondering what he possibly had to say to me. But whatever it was that brought him to a complete standstill, it quickly passed as he said, “Right. So, well, just—just be careful, will ya?” He remained still for another moment before turning on the heel of his boot and striding back toward the trailer, head down, rubbing the back of his sweaty neck. Harley looked at him and then at me before quickly following him to the door.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, confused as to whether I had said something to offend him. Was it because I had intruded? But when I heard the sound of his door slamming, a sound I was becoming all too familiar with, my feet moved. And I wholeheartedly believed right then and there that any future interaction would be fleeting and never more than just a hello. Just when I thought I had seen a sliver of the sweetness that lurked under his sour outer core, he returned to being quiet and stoic. I wasn’t sure if I cared, but nonetheless, a part of me couldn’t help but question it. It wasn’t until I was further down the road that keeping my curiosity and uncertainties at bay didn’t seem so much of a struggle anymore as his truck had now become small enough to fit in my pocket.

By the time the morning rush shoppers had bought their quick fix of coffee and talked with Sam, I still hadn’t shaken my neighbor from my thoughts. Even the sound of Tracy Lawrence singing “ Alibis ” on the radio wasn’t enough to lure me into a sing-along. And every so often, I’d raise my head, a small part of me expecting to see the neighbor’s black truck pull up in the gas station lot.

Looking away from the window, I saw that Sam had just passed Mrs. Anderson her bag of toiletries and tobacco products. Her frail and wizened gray hair was pulled into a tight bun, stretching the crow’s feet further back from her eyes. Though they held a certain brightness, there was still a lack of spirit in them. And for a brief moment, I wondered if that’s what people saw in mine. Sinking into the fold-out chair and propping my swollen feet on the counter, I returned my attention to the August edition of Reader’s Digest .

“You two have a nice day now. Nice seein’ you again, Grace. Tell your daddy I said hi,” Mrs. Anderson said, giving Sam and my feet another quick once over as she left. I lifted my chin, watching her.

“Well, isn’t she just a peach.”

“Not her fault she was raised that way, Sam. You know that,” I said and sat upright with a sigh. “You could say, though, it’s her fault for not breakin’ that nasty pattern.”

“Not everyone can change, Grace. Takes a certain kind of person. And there’s not a lotta people like that out in the world.” Sam sat on the stool, occupying himself with the latest edition of Rolling Stone .

Dark shadows circled his eyes and gathered at the creases of his downturned mouth. I recognized the exhaustion his body exuded. No matter how many times he denied it, even after living here all his life, I knew he played with the idea of packing up his family and leaving. I wanted to pry, but I knew he would just say what Mama used to say: “I’m fine, Grace.” Turning away, I stared at my feet, wiggling my toes in my sandals.

“Hey, you sure your daddy isn’t gonna come in here lookin’ for ya? By now you’re usually headed back home.”

“For the second time, Sam, I’m sure. He stayed at my Uncle Wayne’s again last night, or at least I hope so.”

“Alright, well.” Sam exhaled and shut his magazine, providing me his full attention as he said, “Wanna share another story from that ‘bible’ of yours?” He gestured toward my Reader’s Digest , seemingly interested.

I sat upright with a burst of energy and lowered my feet from the counter, anxiously finding the page I had left off on.

“I know I say this all the time, but that stuff is gonna get to you sooner or later.”

“Oh, hush, you love it, too,” I replied and found the page, sitting on the edge of my seat. “Here’s a good one. This one was a speedboat in Florida that nearly severed a diver’s arm. He was in the water for almost a half hour until someone found him. Can you believe that? The driver of the boat visited him in the hospital, and they fell in love. Six months later, he divorced his wife and a year later married the driver. Now they’re expecting their first child. Well, ain’t that sweet.”

“You really can’t make this stuff up, I guess,” Sam said, nestling the earmuff of his Sony Walkman against his ear.

I placed the magazine down on the seat and slowly pushed myself up with a grunt. “I need to pee. That last juice box set me over. I gotta say, though, I do feel bad for the wife. Does marriage mean nothin’ anymore? I swear, Sam, this is why I don’t wanna marry. Nothin’ good comes from it.”

Sam snorted and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?”

“As I’ve said before and will say again, Grace, it takes two people who are in love for a marriage to work,” he stated for a matter of fact. “And you ain’t even nineteen yet, by the way. You got your whole life ahead of ya. I said the exact thing when I was your age, and ten years later, I married my wife. Are there days when she pisses me off? Good golly, yes. But I know I piss her off, too.”

“Well, my mama always said it takes a certain kind of man to handle a Callaway woman.”

“Yeah, well, parents don’t know everything.”

“If my mama was right about one thing, Sam, I think she’d be right about...uh-oh.” I halted at the sudden urge to hurl. I tried to hold it back, but it fought back harder, and I raced to the bathroom, pushing past Sam.

“Grace?” he asked, worried.

After patting my heated face with a cool paper towel, I returned to the counter with an exhausted sigh, tightening the string of my dress around my waist. Sam looked up from the magazine, concerned. I placed my hand on the counter for extra stability, fighting against the wobble and ache of my body and knees. Taking one last breath, I shut my eyes to recenter myself.

“ You okay?”

I did a thumbs up.

“You need some water?”

I nodded, holding my back. “I don’t think the baby liked the fourth Slim Jim,” I said with a soft laugh.

Ring.

I looked toward the entrance. A group of teenage boys walked in with Wildcats jerseys and baseball caps, filling the air with their boisterous laughter. One of the lankier boys had hoisted himself on the back of another, piggyback style, and they charged down the aisle. It’s funny how seven months could seem like a different lifetime. And seven months was all it took for me to forget about them, like they had seemed to forget about me. I turned to go sit with Sam when the bell rang again. It was Mason. He was here. And taller than the last time I saw him. His white T-shirt was tighter across his chest and arms now. Mason looked over, and his face dropped. Every nerve of my body kicked into high gear, and I made a sharp turn down the candy aisle, hoping he hadn’t seen me.

“Hey!” he called out. “I saw ya, Grace!”

Just as I made my way to the end of the aisle and peeked around the endcap, Mason slid in front of me. He caught his breath, propped his arm on top of the shelf, and smiled at me with his perfectly straight, white teeth.

“I gotta say, Grace, you still move just as fast as you used to.” He pushed back the fallen strands of his brown hair and then gestured to my white dress. “Oh, hey, I like the little flowers you have there. It’s pretty. I thought you didn’t like—?”

“It’s the only thing that fits me.”

“Oh, well, you look good,” he said and cleared his throat.

“And you’re taller.”

“Well, I hope I am. It has been a while.” He grinned big, showing off his left dimple. That smile made all his boyish features shine even more. His eyes were the same clear green that I’ve always loved since I met him. Those two things, mixed with the sweet talk he learned from his father, made me ultimately and shamefully putty in his hands. All he had to do was flash a toothy grin and wink that right eye, and it made any girl catch her breath. His smile disappeared once he knew he hadn’t pulled the reaction he had wanted out of me. “Can we go talk outside, Grace?”

Be it from his friends’ loud laughter or the desperate gleam in Mason’s eyes that had already bent my better judgment, I said, “Alright.”

I followed behind him to the door and glanced over at his group of friends who were at the slushy machine debating over the cherry or blueberry. Mason held the door open, and I stepped outside into the hot air, keeping myself underneath the awning. My eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness of the sun. Mason cleared his throat, scratching the middle of his chin. Though he had changed physically, his little quirks hadn’t. And it still took all I had to not slap him across the face.

“So you’re, uh, five months preg—?”

“ Seven.”

“Seven, right. You got any names yet?”

“What are you doin’ here, Mason?” I asked, trying to hide the irritation in my voice.

“I came to get—?”

“No, I mean right here. Right now. What do you wanna talk to me outside for? I got nothin’ to say to you.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“And it took you seven months to wanna talk to me?”

“I was busy.”

“ You were busy?”

“Hey, you’re the one who stopped coming over, Grace,” Mason stated in a low hushed tone. “I did try and talk to you. You’d always run the other way. Like you did just now. You’ve never made it easy for me to get through that wall of yours. Ever. You even stopped coming to school. So don’t try to blame it all on me. You—?”

“Were you bullied every day?”

“ No, I—?”

“Were you stared at every day?”

“ Grace—?”

“And anytime I saw you in the hall, you just looked at me like I was some embarrassment. You don’t know nothin’ about what I’ve been goin’ through. Were you laughed at? Were you called a whore? Did you get called fat? No. You didn’t. I can’t even go into a store now without someone looking at me like my baby’s an abomination. Your mom and dad were the ones who told me to stop hanging out with you,” I said, noticing Sam watching us from the counter. “They said I was a bad influence,” I continued, facing Mason. “And what did you do? You did nothin’.”

“Hey, I’m not having an easy time either with you being knocked up and all. You know why I couldn’t tell them about it. My dad would beat my ass and knock me into next Sunday, Grace. You know it.”

“It’s called a baby. Not an ‘it.’ A baby.” I turned away, making a straight beeline to the door. He caught up with me with little to no effort and grabbed my arm. I yanked it back. “Don’t you dare touch me, Mason.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was wrong of me,” he admitted. “It’s just...I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now, Grace. I’ve been messed up about it. And I get why you don’t want anythin’ to do with me. I get it, alright? Really. I do. I wasn’t the best boyfriend there. But I wanna try again. Like old times. Can we, please? And I swear, if I do something that pisses you off, we can cut it off and I won’t bother you ever again. I promise.”

A twinge of guilt weighed on my chest from the anxious gleam in Mason’s eyes. “Well, alright, I guess.”

In spite of everything, a part of me still held onto that hope that every person had in this world. For a brief moment, Mason had almost made me forget the crater that had dug itself in my chest. That I had spent my childhood building a series of walls around. That moment was all I needed to think that maybe it was okay now. Maybe it was okay to knock down the wall just a bit for him. I could rebuild. I’ve done it before. A smile spread across his face, and just as he was about to speak, his group of friends piled out of the station with large slushies in hand. Their laughter went quiet as they looked toward us. Two boys gawked at me as the other two directed their attention to Mason, bewildered.

“What? You got somethin’ to say, Grady?” Mason asked.

“No.” Grady cleared his throat. “How you doin’, Grace? It’s been a while since we last saw ya.”

“Fine, and you?” I asked.

“Asked Mary to the Pima County Fair this week,” Grady said proudly with a grin. “She finally said yes.”

“That’s this week?” I asked.

Mason smiled toward me and said, “Yep, this Friday.”

I nodded, catching one of the boys giving me a prolonged once-over. His eyes set on my belly.

“Anyway, uh, we’re gonna go wait in the car, Mason.” Grady flashed me a forced smile before leading the group away. “Nick, come on. Nick. Stop starin’!” He snapped his fingers. Nick quickly turned and caught up to the three boys, head down. Mason and I watched them huddle into the Jeep.

Mason exhaled. “I guess I should get goin’ before they die of heat stroke, huh?” He retrieved his keys from his pocket and said, “You know, those big pretzels that you like will be there at the fair. Or can you not have that?”

“I can have it.”

“Good, ’cause I was thinkin’ we could go with them. In separate cars of course. Cause I-I know you don’t really care for Grady’s driving. Especially when he’s had a few too many...” He flinched when one of the boys honked the horn. “I’m comin’!” he yelled. “For fuck sake. I’ll pick you up at nine. Alright? This Friday.” He stepped off the sidewalk. “You still live with your dad, yeah?”

“ Yeah.”

“This Friday. At nine o’clock. Don’t forget.” Mason smiled, jogging across the lot over to the Jeep.

From a young age, words had lost their meaning to me. Someone could say they’d do something, but it doesn’t mean they’d do it. As much as I wanted to feel a bit of passion, hope, and maybe, even, love, I knew at the end of the day, Mason would never love the baby as much as I would. If by some miracle we did work out, I’d only be giving my baby girl the same father as I have now. And no matter how badly I wanted to experience the one thing that comes close to magic in this world, there was nothing more important to me than keeping her from having the same kind of father. Either way, I’d never find something as good as this baby. I headed inside, relieved to feel the cool air. Sam looked up from his magazine.

“I take it that was the baby daddy you don’t like talkin’ about?”

“What does your gut tell you?”

“Funny. Very funny. But whatever you two were talkin’ about out there, he better have told ya that he’s gonna help you and that baby, Grace. Boy needs to step up.”

“Sam, my mama told my pa the same thing, and look at how he turned out. I don’t wanna give that to my baby. And as much as I don’t like the boy, he don’t deserve that either. Nobody does.”

“Grace, I’m not tellin’ ya that you need him. I know you don’t. I’m sayin’ no matter how many books or magazines you’ll read, it’s not gonna tell you everything. Take it from me. I have three kids, and I still don’t know what to do with the third one. Now sit your butt down and rest those feet. Just lookin’ at you is making me tired.”

I smiled and walked over to the counter.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re sweet, Sam?”

“Only you, and my wife when I take out the trash. Now come on, how about you read me another story from that magazine of yours? I know you got another one in there. Let’s hear it.”

As the sky dimmed, Mason now occupied my thoughts instead of that new neighbor. Though I had played that scene so many times in my head till I lost count, it was as if I had seen a ghost that had come back to remind me of what I did. It was like looking into a past reflection of myself. And I wondered if this was what Mama felt like whenever she saw Pa. There was a sense of relief, then a little terror because I hadn’t the slightest clue what to say or do next. I thought the burning anger had been swept away since the moment I heard my baby’s tiny heartbeat. At least that’s what I thought until today.

“Alrighty, Sam. See you tomorrow.”

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home? I could close up shop for ten minutes. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be okay. And I have water.” I reassured him one last time and waved goodbye before stepping outside.

Despite the throbbing pain shooting from my feet to my calves, my mind was captivated by the palette of colors accumulating in the sky. Rivers of pastel pinks and blues stretched across the horizon. No matter if it was dawn or dusk, my mind always found a sense of peace. It was one of the few times I truly enjoyed living in a place like this. I didn’t even hear the rebellious teenagers and the bass of their low riding cars. For once, it was almost quiet. Then a delightful smell of burning charcoal and sizzling meat wafted up my nose, becoming more potent with each step I took. A puffy stream of smoke came from outside Arlene and Ray’s trailer, dissipating into the sky the higher it traveled. Even as a little girl, I swore that I always tasted Ray’s secret barbecue sauce hanging in the air. I picked up my pace as Ray stepped out from the trailer with a platter of hot links ready to be grilled, humming to himself.

“ Evenin’, Ray.”

He turned, and his face lit up. “Well, howdy, Grace. Haven’t seen you all day. Hung out with Sam?”

“He does have the strongest A/C around.”

“He does, for sure. Here. Come sit. Keep me some company while I fire these babies up.”

“You havin’ a party or somethin’?” I asked as he placed half a dozen hot links on the grill.

“Nah, Arlene wanted me to get started on these before we head on over to Paul’s and have dinner with his family. You want me to make a plate for you and your dad? I got a couple extra.”

“We could always go for one of your patties, Ray. You know that. Especially my pa.” I sat down at the picnic table with a relieved sigh and set my legs on either side of the seat to compensate for my belly.

“Speakin’ of your dad, I haven’t seen him since yesterday. You know where he ran off to?”

“I think he stayed at my Uncle Wayne’s,” I answered, resting my elbow on the table.

“Again?” he asked, shaking his head. “What do your dad and Uncle Wayne even do over there?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t wanna know,” I said and sat upright in anticipation as he flipped over a patty and coated it with his secret special sauce. Arlene and I reckoned, even on Ray’s deathbed, the recipe would die with him. “Can I have that one?” I pointed. “That one looks good.”

“I know you want this one.”

“ And—?”

“Well done with two slices of cheese. I know what you like.” Ray grinned and tapped his noggin with the prongs. “I still remember. Haven’t lost my memory yet,” he proclaimed proudly and did a double take across the way and waved. “Oh, howdy there, neighbor. Good evenin’.”

I looked over, spotting the new neighbor walking to his truck. He halted and regarded us, standing like a deer in headlights. It reminded me of the first time Ray had come face to face with a javelina. Till this day, Arlene and I are still convinced he did in fact stop breathing.

The man gave us a quick, bland smile and glanced between us one last time before hastily turning away, fiddling with his left ear. Ray and I shared a quick look as he climbed into his truck and fled down the dirt road.

Ray clicked his tongue and returned his attention to the grill, nodding. “Well, alright, then. Guess you weren’t kiddin’ when you said he didn’t talk much.”

“ He’s odd.”

“Everyone’s odd in some way, Grace. That’s what makes the world so interesting. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” I said truthfully.

“You thought I was the boogie man.”

“Ray, I was five.”

“Still, it took ya a long time to say hi to me. Didn’t stop you from watchin’ me and Arlene, though. I’d always see you sittin’ on your porch or in that chair of yours. But now you love me,” Ray said with a toothy grin. “And love my food. Can’t ever get enough of it. Funny how that works out, don’t it?”

Rolling my eyes, I smiled and pushed myself up to stand beside him to watch the most important process of crafting the perfect hamburger. The condiments. After he carefully laid across two crisp pieces of lettuce, two slices of tomato and onion, he smeared on a layer of mayonnaise before setting the bun right on top. Everything had its place and was done with intention. Ray stepped back to admire his work and threw the towel over his shoulder, placing his hands on his sides.

He nudged my shoulder. “I gotta say, those are some good-lookin’ burgers if I do say so myself.”

“ Thanks, Ray.”

“You want some fries?”

“I can heat up some at home. Thanks, though.” I gave him a quick side hug and carried the paper plates in my hand, walking away. “Have fun at Paul’s. Say hi to Arlene for me, okay?”

“Will do, Grace!”

After making a trip to the bathroom and baking half a bag of fries in the toaster oven, I sat on the porch with my full plate of food. And though Arlene and Ray had taken off down the road ten minutes ago, the smell of burning charcoal still hung in the air. I stretched my achy legs down the steps and took my first bite, savoring the spicy but sweet sauce that coated just enough of the meat. Ray’s burgers had become the equivalent to my mama’s chocolate chip cookies. I took another bite and sucked the excess sauce clean off my thumb, then looked up to see Harley sitting at the bottom of the porch. Leaning forward, I searched for any sign of the neighbor’s truck.

It was nowhere in sight.

“Does he know you’re out, or is this your little secret you keep from him?” I asked Harley.

His large ear twitched.

“You know, not everyone here likes big dogs like you. You gotta be careful,” I said. Harley tilted his head one way and the other, whining. “I know. It’s a problem.” I tore off a piece of the greasy meat and held it out for him. He approached and retrieved it from my fingers. “You want another?”

Harley sat down, determined and hopeful. In seconds my hand was covered in slobber when I offered him the second piece, his tongue made of sandpaper. Little lines of drool fell from his prickly chin as he chewed the thick meat. “Pretty good, ain’t it? I would eat them every day if I could.”

Two loud engines in the distance caused me to raise my head. I then spotted Pa’s truck and Uncle Wayne’s flashy red pickup behind him. Harley turned his head, curious as to what grabbed my attention. I pushed myself to stand just as they pulled up. Both their trucks backfired, and I waved the smell of exhaust from my face. Harley’s ears raised. From the tinted windshield I was unable to make out Uncle Wayne’s face. He killed the engine just as Pa stumbled out of his truck with a case of beer.

“Grace, what’s that dog doin’? I told you, I don’t want that mutt shittin’ on my property.”

Uncle Wayne jumped out of the truck.

Even without his boots on, Uncle Wayne was just as tall as the new neighbor but didn’t pack as much muscle in his blue T-shirt and denim jeans. His hair was slicked back, giving any woman the assumption he loved things in place and to be in control. And he did. The days Uncle Wayne started paying more attention to me were the years my chest started filling out and the childhood plumpness had left my cheeks. After I turned fifteen, his hugs grew longer, and the smile he wore around me never seemed so pure anymore. It was then I learned a man like my Uncle Wayne couldn’t ever be a saint no matter how much preaching he did in church. And though Pa and Uncle Wayne weren’t blood-related, one could say their inner demons had a lot in common.

“That the dog you told me about?” Uncle Wayne asked.

Pa jerked his head to Harley. “That’s the one.”

Uncle Wayne lowered his aviators and spat out a piece of chewing tobacco onto the ground. “You weren’t kiddin’. That is one funny-lookin’ German shepherd.” He stepped back to fully regard Harley, who stayed still, staring at him. “Never seen one like it. Not even my buddy’s dog looks like that.”

“He’s a Malinois,” I corrected him.

His eyes fell toward me, and his tongue slicked across his teeth, letting out a small chuckle. “Those are the dogs that, uh, sniff out shit in the Army, right? Like landmines?” Uncle Wayne drifted his attention back to Harley. “Hey, buddy.” He stepped closer and went to stretch his arm forward but immediately paused at the sound of low growling. “Whoa. Alrighty, then.” Harley’s ears had fallen back. The little hairs on his back stood at attention, and his upper lip was now lifted into a snarl, baring his teeth.

Pa chuckled, saying, “Guess it doesn’t like you.”

“Shut up, Bill.”

“Grace, get the mutt off my property already, will ya?” Pa threatened, leaving no room to negotiate as he walked past me, smelling as if he had already started on that case of beer. “I don’t want him takin’ a shit.”

“Harley, go.” I snapped my fingers. Harley whined. “Go.” Harley gave me one last look before bolting off to his porch.

“Seems it listens to ya,” Uncle Wayne said, his eyes wandering across the way to the trailer next to ours. “Hey, Bill, you said it was that new neighbor’s dog, right? The one that don’t talk much.”

“That’s what I told ya, ain’t it?” Pa shook his head. “Oh, hey, is that Ray’s food? Got any left?”

“Yeah, yours is in the fridge,” I answered.

“Good, I’m starvin’. And thanks again, Wayne. Have a good night.” Pa tipped his hat before taking it off to fan himself.

“No problem, Bill.”

Uncle Wayne and I watched Pa head into the trailer, and the moment the door shut behind him, we looked at each other. Any time I was left alone with him, something always shifted in the air. And even now it still left me cautious. Like the day Mama was sweeping the porch, and a little voice inside her told her to scoop me up and run. If she hadn’t, I don’t know what would have come from that big, nasty scorpion standing behind me. Uncle Wayne reminded me of that scorpion. Sometimes it wasn’t the rattle of a snake that made people scared. It was the things that never made a sound and that sneaked up on them.

“It was nice seein’ you, Gracie. Keep an eye on your dad for me, alright?” He gestured toward the front door. “And tell him he needs to wake up bright and early tomorrow. I don’t wanna be late again.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Hey, you still likin’ that chair I gave you? Your dad told me you are. Three things I learned with my last wife was to always have a chair on hand, food in the fridge, and to never leave a pregnant woman unattended. Never doin’ that again, I tell ya. That woman never let me live it down.”

“I am. Drive safe, okay?” I turned away and muttered, “Like any woman would ever wanna be alone with you hangin’ around.”

“What was that?”

“Nothin’. Tell Tina I said hi, Wayne.”

“Will do.” Uncle Wayne nodded and let his eyes do a quick sweep of my body, allowing a suggestive smile to touch the corners of his mouth before he turned to leave. “You look good, Gracie, even with a bun in the oven.” He climbed into the truck and shut the door, but not before saying, “You have a good night now.”