Chapter 4
Growing up, my brother took it upon himself to be my keeper from the get-go, and I did everything to prove he wasn’t.
Cy took it upon himself to assign me chores and I took it upon myself to hide from him and his orders.
My favorite hiding spot was either the open-air crow’s nest on top of Grandma Olla’s house or underneath my bed.
I would hunker down and pretend nothing existed beyond my hiding place until my big brother showed up and demanded I get to whatever task I had been avoiding.
After carrying in my belongings the other night, I debated making a bed in the crow’s nest but it started raining, of course.
And scooting underneath a bed wasn’t nearly as appealing as back in my childhood, so I chose to cling to the lavender scrapbook and hide away underneath the blankets instead.
There I remained while hours turned into days, sleeping then flipping through the memories of Fern.
I kept promising myself I’d get up out of this bed and get on with it as soon as Cy called or showed up to make me.
How foolish that ended up being. And, yeah, I knew being an adult meant making myself do the adulting things, but sometimes it would’ve been nice to have someone around to nudge me in that direction with some encouragement. Some support.
I rolled over and adjusted the pillow under my head, wrinkling my nose as a waft of unwashed hair and stale breath hit me. Not caring enough to do anything about it, I shut my eyes and let my thoughts drift until the doorbell rang.
After getting my bearings, I shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the sink faucet.
Ignoring the doorbell and whoever it was knocking incessantly, I slurped several gulps of water, then splashed my face a few times to wash away the fatigue.
A shower would do a better job, but I decided to go downstairs and figure out who the heck was trying to break down the front door.
I yanked it open and glared at my unwanted guest. Just beyond him, dark clouds hung heavily in the sky, fittingly so. “I should have known it was you.” No one else bothered to visit me.
Gilbert gave me an assessing once-over and made a sound much like a rumble of thunder. “You didn’t, Junie. Please say you didn’t.”
I crossed my arms and leaned on the doorjamb, hoping he’d pick up on the fact that he wasn’t welcome inside. “What are you talking about?”
He gave a resigned shake of his head and walked to his car.
I closed the door and started to the kitchen. Some tea would be good, but before I could start the kettle, I heard the front door open and shut with a little force, then a brown bag landed on the counter beside me.
“It’s not what you think.” I snatched up the bag and marched to the bathroom and yelled, “I can’t wait to prove you wrong!”
“Me too!”
Ten minutes and another clean test later, I tried to direct Gilbert to the door, but he made it no farther than a barstool at the kitchen island and refused to budge.
“Have a seat and let’s you and me have a talk.” He motioned to the stool beside him.
Defiant and also aware of needing a shower, I moved to the other side of the island and remained standing. “Just say what you need to say.”
Gilbert swiveled on the stool and craned his neck, surveying the living room and all my stuff still stacked up and waiting to be put away. “What have you been doing since I saw you last week?”
“Catching up on my rest.”
“That’s it?”
I shrugged. “Between prison and rehab, I had a lot to catch up on.”
Gilbert scrubbed a hand down his face. “There’s more to it than just needing rest. What’s this hibernating really about?”
I stared past him, watching the ocean waves crash onto the shore. My family acts like I don’t exist and . . . I’m wondering if that would be for the best. I chose not to say this out loud for fear he’d haul me back to rehab or some other facility, and I’d had my fill of such.
“Junie?”
I shrugged. “As my Grandma Olla used to say, this is just my winter, ya know.”
“No. It’s May in the South. Ain’t no winter in sight.”
“You know very well that’s an expression, old man.” I combed my hair over my shoulder and began plaiting it in a loose braid. “I’m staying clean and that’s all you need to concern yourself with.”
Gilbert leaned his elbows on the counter and frowned.
“I’ve come out of retirement for the sole purpose of concerning myself with all things Juniper Wilder.
So, let’s be clear here, young lady, you are my main priority.
If you stumble, just keep in mind I’m a seventy-three-year-old geezer.
I’m liable to break a hip when I go down with you. ”
I suppressed a snort. As much as I hated to admit it, I liked Gilbert and found him quite endearing.
He’d shared a little bit about himself in our initial meeting.
Served in the military, did two tours in Vietnam, lost a lot of his friends in an air strike, came home, and fell into a bottle.
It took a childhood friend named Valerie to get him to sober up.
After marrying her, Gilbert made a career in law enforcement.
He’d worked enough, if you asked me, and shouldn’t have to be dealing with a recovering alcoholic at this stage of life. Yet here we were.
Gilbert glanced over his shoulder and around the room as if searching for something. “What’s that creaking sound?”
I tipped my head to the side and listened for a moment, hearing the faint groaning from a strong gust coming off the ocean. “Just the house complaining like any coastal home. It’s never liked windy days. And it really has a sore spot for hurricanes. You live on Isle of Palms, you should know this.”
“I live in a condo. It doesn’t creak.” Gilbert tapped his knuckles against the gray and white marble. “Anyway, we need to hit the road soon, so go get yourself cleaned up.”
Instantly on guard, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Where are we going?”
“To go make some new friends.”
Looking heavenward, I whined. “I’m not feeling social.”
“Too bad. We have an AA meeting to get to.” He wore that stubborn look on his face. The one that didn’t allow any lip, so I stomped upstairs like a pouty child to shower.
*
Filled with dread, I descended the back stairs of a community center near Mount Pleasant. I had done group therapy in rehab. I wasn’t much of a fan of it then and had no desire to do it now. I never considered the whole opening-up-to-strangers thing as a fun pastime.
“Stop dragging your feet and wipe that grimace off your face.” Gilbert held the door and beckoned me to hurry up, nodding his head and waving his hand, which had me slowing down to a snail’s pace. “Today, Junie, today.”
I skulked past him and as soon as I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room, the grimace returned to my face as the smell of burned coffee and mildew hit me. I opened my mouth to complain to Gilbert, but raised voices by the refreshment table distracted me.
“I said take it back!” A wiry guy with dark circles under his puffy eyes jabbed a finger into a much bigger guy’s chest. The scrawny man seemed too frail to be yelling and jabbing someone.
“You don’t tell me what to do!” burly guy shouted back.
Gilbert held out his arm, directing me to stay behind him. Unsure of what to do, we remained rooted in place. The arguing escalated and a few others ended up being pulled into it when their efforts to intervene backfired.
“Stay put,” Gilbert ordered, then moved in the direction of the conflict, yelling at the crowd to knock it off.
Of course no one listened. Seemed this whole crowd had a chip on their shoulder.
A few shoves in, chairs started toppling over and a box of donuts shot through the air in an explosion of pink frosting and sprinkles.
Wiry guy launched himself at burly guy, only to bounce off the big guy’s barrel chest, sending him on a crash course toward me.
It all happened so fast. One moment it was raining donuts, the next I was flat on my back, seeing stars.