Chapter 10 #3
“I heard what you just said to my mother. You need to take your blinders off, lady, look at where you live right now, where all of us live. It is as hillbilly as it gets. We’re down in a holler, between a mountain and a river, with half the town trooping up a mountain every Sunday to listen to an unordained preacher spouting fire and brimstone, and the congregation dumping money in the pot to pay for their sins of the week, then going back down the mountain for Sunday dinner.
You are a peck shy of a bushel if you think I’m going to help you find anything after disrespecting her that way.
And no…I am not going back to work and bag groceries for the women in this town, because at one time or another, every freakin’ one of you has made my mother cry.
So don’t any of you ask me to find anything for you ever again.
My mother has groceries to buy, but hers will be the last groceries I bag for anyone here. Now get away from her.”
Bev was red-faced and wishing for a hole to crawl into when Tate turned his back on her as if she’d ceased to exist.
“Mom, give me your list. You push the cart. I’ll get the stuff.”
Lilith put her hand on Tate’s arm, then lifted her head as she handed him the list. “Thank you, son. I need some baker’s yeast. I like Red Star if they have any,” she said, and they walked away, talking as if nothing had happened, leaving Bev Harwell standing.
Andy Sparks overheard all of it and glared at Bev Harwell in disgust. “You just cost me the best employee I ever had,” he muttered, and walked off before he said too much.
Tate calmly finished the shopping as if nothing had happened, and as the items were being scanned at the checkout stand, he was talking and teasing the cashier as always while he bagged their groceries.
Lilith watched, seeing her son in a different light. As they left the store, she slipped her hand beneath his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I’m about as proud of you right now as a mother can be,” she said.
“And I’m about as pissed as I’ve ever been. I’ll get over it, but that heifer won’t forget it, so there’s that.”
Lilith burst out laughing. “Heifer?”
He shrugged, then grinned. “I’m still hot under the collar. Get in, Mama, and turn that air conditioner up to high.”
She was still laughing as she got in and started the car, then watched as he returned the empty cart to the store before coming back on the run.
His stitches were out, and he was feeling no pain.
Tate Bandy was good to go.
* * *
With the town still trying to pull itself back together, Abel took off an hour every day to go home for lunch, just to satisfy himself Lilith was okay.
He was in the kitchen digging through the refrigerator when he saw Lilith and Tate drive up, so he went out to help. “Did you get those stitches out, son?”
“Yes, sir, I did,” Tate said, and picked up a couple of sacks and went into the house while Lilith was getting out.
“What’s his big rush?” Abel asked, as he got the last two sacks from the trunk.
Lilith sighed as she closed the trunk lid and started into the house with Abel.
“We were in Sparks Grocery when Bev Harwell took it upon herself to refer to my witchy ways and hillbilly roots. Tate was talking to his boss when he overheard her. All of a sudden, he’s standing between me and Bev with a look on his face that reminded me quite a lot of you.
And Bev shifted her attitude so fast it made my head spin and started talking all sweet to Tate.
She was about to ask him to help her find something that was lost in the storm, when he stopped her. ”
Abel groaned. “Oh lord. What did he say?”
Lilith giggled. “Something about this whole town being hillbilly, which was a reference to the hillbilly she’d called me, then something about her being a peck shy of a bushel if she thought he’d do anything to help her after the way she talked to me.
And then he alluded to all of the other women who come into Sparks for groceries who he knew had been either mean or rude to me, and basically, announced that my groceries were going to be the last groceries he bagged for anyone at Sparks and there was no more coming to him for answers about anything. He quit his job, and now we’re home.”
Abel was quiet as they entered the house.
Tate had already put his sacks on the counter, and they could see him outside talking on the phone. Abel put down what he’d carried in, then put his arms around Lilith.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Tate’s not. He’s always known what was going on, but I don’t think he’s ever actually witnessed it before. He’s ‘seen’ stuff happening, but not in real time.” Then she cupped Abel’s cheeks and kissed him. “It’s all okay. We have an escape plan, remember? Have you eaten lunch yet?”
He shook his head. “I was about to make myself a sandwich.”
“If you’ll start putting up the refrigerated items, I’ll make it for you,” she said.
He grinned. “Deal.” He glanced out the window but didn’t see Tate. Then he heard the squeak of the porch swing and let go of his last spurt of concern. Tate would figure it out, just like always.
And Abel was right. Tate would figure it out, and Briar was always his default. When something bothered him, she was all it took to get him back on track. So as soon as he ended his call with Andy Sparks, he sent her a text.
Stitches are out. Had a few choice words with a woman at Sparks who called Mom a witch and a hillbilly, among other things, and then she had the audacity to want me to help her find something she lost in the storm.
Like that’s gonna happen. I also quit my job.
Can’t work there and still bag groceries for the women in this town who made my mother cry.
I know your birthday is tomorrow. Happy eighteenth a day early. Hang in there, darlin’. You’re almost legal.
* * *
The construction crew was replacing the subfloor in the primary bedroom, while the roofers were installing the replacement rafters above the kitchen.
Briar was sitting on the stairs, using her clipboard to catch cookie crumbs, with a cold drink at her side. She was trying to stay out of the way but still accessible to the workers, when she got Tate’s text.
As soon as she started reading, she could tell how bothered he was about what had happened at the store, but mentioning her birthday surprised her.
She’d been so wrapped up in the remodeling that she’d forgotten what day it was.
She quickly responded, hoping a lighthearted answer would soothe some of his indignation.
Chicken poop on the old biddy who insulted your mother. Sorry about your job, but school starts soon, anyway. All those old hens can sack up their own stuff and carry it to their cars. And if you still want to carry something, you can carry me to bed. All I want for my birthday is you.
She hit Send. No matter how low Tate was feeling, this would give him something else to think about. Then there was a knock at the front door. She saw the mailman through the front window and went to answer.
When Briar opened the door, he smiled. “Just the little lady I need. You have a registered letter you need to sign for.”
She signed where he pointed, took the handful of mail along with the registered letter back into the house, then sorted out the mail belonging to her dad, and the letter addressed to her. When she saw the return address on her letter, her heart skipped. Tulane University, New Orleans, Louisiana.
One of the colleges she’d applied to for a scholarship.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, my first college letter.”
She was standing exactly where she’d been when the tornado blew the tree into their house and nearly ended her life. Hopefully this letter held the answers to what came next. Using a paring knife for a letter opener, she slit the top of the envelope, pulled out the contents, and began to read.
It wasn’t until she got to the words four-year, full-ride scholarship…food allowance…room and board, beginning with the January semester at the university that she squealed, then began jumping for joy.
She had to tell Tate.
* * *
Tate was still outside when he got Briar’s text. The henhouse references made him smile, but there was nothing funny about the ache of wanting her, or the frustration of having nowhere for them to be together. He was still thinking about her when his phone rang. It was Briar.
“Hey, you, I just got your text. What’s up?”
“I did it! I did it!” she cried. “I just got a letter of acceptance from Tulane. It’s a four-year, full-ride scholarship with room and board and a food allowance beginning with the January semester.”
Tate felt the first pang of separation at the same time he felt her joy. “Fantastic, darlin’! This is the start of us. Are you going to accept it, or wait to see what else comes?”
“Oh, I’m going to accept it. There can’t be a better offer, and I know I don’t want to live up north in snow nine months out of the year.”
Her delight was catching. “So, now I know where to locate myself. We’ll be in the same city, which is more than I hoped for. Have you told your dad yet?”
“No, but I will now that I’ve told you.”
“I’m proud of you, Briar. So proud of you,” Tate said. “I know you’re busy at your house, but is it okay if I come by tomorrow and bring your birthday present?”
“Absolutely, okay! Can’t wait to see you,” she said.
“See you then, darlin’. Love you.” Then he got up and went back into the house, got his laptop, and headed for his room.
After the caustic interchange with Bev Harwell, and the TV interview with the well-known reporter from St. Louis calling him an actual psychic and praising him for a warning that saved her life, he had an idea.