"I have?"
Lynda stood beside Ella Kate and helped ease her into her wooden chair. "Don't you think she's worked wonders on this old house, Ella Kate?"
"I reckon," Ella Kate said. "You got any coffee left?"
I fixed her a mug and took it over to the table. She took a sip and nodded her approval. "Your mama makes coffee a lot better'n you do."
"She does everything better than me," I said. "But I'm trying to learn from her example."
Ella Kate thought about that. She jerked her head in Lynda's direction. "How many times did you say she's been married?"
I gasped, but Lynda threw her head back and gave a belly laugh. "Only twice," she protested. "I know lots of women who've been married more times than that."
"You married to this Leonard fella you're livin' with?" Ella Kate demanded.
"Well, no, but we've been together for six years," Lynda said. "That's longer than I've ever been with any man before. It's my personal best."
"Huh," Ella Kate said, shaking her head. She looked at me. "What about you and that Berryhill boy? You ain't studying shacking up with him like your mama does, are you?"
"Ella Kate!" Lynda protested.
"I knew Sarah Berryhill," Ella Kate went on, as though she hadn't heard. "Now that was a fine Christian lady. But once that breast cancer took ahold of her, she was just eat up with it. I believe that's the biggest funeral I've been to around here since Olivia passed. The Berryhill boy's a lawyer, ain't he?"
"His name is Tee," I put in. "And you know good and well he's in practice with Carter."
"I hear the son is runnin' the newspaper these days. I reckon he wadn't too good at lawyerin'. Not as good as his daddy, anyhow." Ella Kate looked at me plaintively. "You got any eggs and bacon in the house? I b'lieve I got my appetite back this morning."
"Tee's a fine lawyer," I said, skipping over the subject of breakfast. "But he loves journalism, and he wants to give back to this community. He's doubled the paper's circulation since he took over running it, you know."
"I don't take a paper these days, but if I did, it would be the Atlanta paper," Ella Kate said grandly. "Norbert always took the Atlanta Constitution. He liked to read the sports section. I like the Sunday funnies and Ann Landers. Does your boyfriend's paper have Ann Landers?"
"Ann Landers is dead, you know," Lynda said, apropos of nothing. She went to the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs. She set the eggs down on the counter and grimaced as she brought out a package of bacon.
"Here," I said, taking the offending meat from her. "I'll fix her breakfast. I'm not trying to chase you off, but I guess you better get on the road before you get tied up in Atlanta traffic."
"You're right," Lynda said. She planted a kiss on my forehead. "Good-bye, sweetheart. Call me tonight and let me know how your meeting turned out."
"I will," I promised.
"Be strong," she said, hugging me. "I'm going to visualize you strong. And that snake in the grass Hodder, I'm visualizing him in prison.
"And you!" Lynda said, wheeling around to face Ella Kate. "You take care of yourself, will you? No more joyriding around in stolen cars. And look after my girl too, will you?"
"Huh!" Ella Kate said, trying to suppress a pleased grin. "You comin' back for the wedding?"
"Wedding?" My mother and I said it in unison.
"Wedding," Ella Kate said firmly. "I ain't fixin' to live under the same roof with anybody livin' in sin. It ain't right. I don't care if her mama does it that way. That's California. But this is Guthrie, Georgia. In Guthrie, we go to church and stand up in front of God and pledge our troth. And then we have cake and punch in the church parlor. And cheese straws. Gotta have cheese straws."
"Is there going to be a wedding?" Lynda asked.
"He hasn't asked me," I said, blushing.
"He's fixin' to," Ella Kate volunteered. "The boy's goofy over her. Anybody can see it."
"Well then," Lynda said, picking up a suitcase in each hand. "That settles it. I'll definitely be back for the wedding. And who knows? Maybe I'll even bring Leonard along. Wouldn't that just set your father's teeth on edge?"
"I'm not even engaged," I said weakly. But nobody was listening.
61.
As soon as my mother zoomed away from the curb in her rented Escalade, I started wondering how I would fill the hours until it was time to leave for the New Macedonia Full Gospel Church of the Brethren and my come-to-Jesus meeting with Alex Hodder.
When the senior-services bus arrived to take Ella Kate to physical therapy, I waved her off and promised to take Shorty for a walk. It was a beautiful morning, full of the promise of spring. The dogwoods were in full bloom, and every house on the street seemed to flaunt frills of azaleas at the edge of bright green lawns. Shorty was happy to be out, he trotted along, barked at every squirrel and stray cat and baptized every fire hydrant and shrub on the block.
But with every step, the what-ifs haunted me. What if Alex didn't come? What if he did come? What if he didn't bring the money? What if something happened-with the hidden cameras, or me? What if, after all that had happened, I somehow managed to screw the whole thing up?
Back from the walk, I decided to fight the sense of dread settling over me by keeping busy. I did the breakfast dishes, and wandered around the house making a list of all the projects I still needed to complete. The bathrooms were at the top of the list. Much as I loved the big pedestal sinks and roomy old bathtubs, no amount of scrubbing was going to remove decades-old chips and rust stains from their porcelain surfaces. We needed proper showers, new tile, new fixtures, new plumbing. It wouldn't be cheap.
As I tallied up the potential cost of the work, I started to think about all the questions Carter and my mother had peppered me with. What would I do after the whole Hoddergate mess was settled? If it was settled.
Carter seemed to think the feds would be happy to let me walk away from any charges, considering my cooperation with the FBI. Could I go back to Washington? Would anybody hire me as a lobbyist, after my name had been so publicly dragged through the mud? More to the point, and to Lynda's question-did I even want to go back to my old life?
Up until now, I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on the "what next" scenarios. It was all I could do to get through the moment I was in, without wondering about the moments still to come.
My mother seemed to think I'd made a life for myself in Guthrie. That thought hadn't occurred to me. True, I'd found unexpected joy in fixing up Birdsong. Unexpected joy too with Tee Berryhill. Was this the bliss Lynda had talked about?
I didn't have time to ponder the questions. The doorbell rang, and when I got to the door, I saw Carter and Tee standing there, both of them grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, hello," I said, swinging the door open. "You two seem pretty pleased with yourselves."
Tee leaned in and kissed me-full on the lips. "We've got a surprise for you," he said.
"Goody," I said. "Lead on. I just love surprises."
Carter turned and gestured toward the curb. "There she is," he said.
And there she was. The Catfish. Her Georgia Bulldog red paint gleamed in the warm morning sunlight. Her chrome had been buffed to a high sheen. Her crumpled roof and busted-out front and rear windshields had miraculously been mended. All the dents and scratches and indignities she'd suffered from her brush with disaster were but a distant memory. As far as I was concerned, she was showroom perfection. She had new white-sidewall tires. She was a smoking-hot vision of vintage loveliness.
"Oh my God," I shrieked, covering my mouth.
I walked out to the curb and circled her, running my fingers over the new paint job and the smoothed-out body. Tee and Carter stood on the lawn, enjoying the spectacle I was making. "This is so awesome," I said, blinking back tears. Yes, I was crying over a car. Maybe I'd become a bona fide Southerner. The next thing you knew, I'd be frying chicken and drinking sweet tea. It was insidious.
"You like it?" Tee asked. I threw my arms around his neck and demonstrated just how grateful I was.
"I believe she does," Carter said, chuckling.
"She's beautiful," I said, releasing Tee from the neck lock. "How on earth did you get her looking like this? I bet Uncle Norbert himself wouldn't recognize her."
"Shawn is a very talented and hard-working individual," Carter said. "As it happens, he used to do work for your great-uncle Norbert. He was very familiar with the Catfish."
"I can't thank you enough," I said. "I was just about to call you and ask if I could borrow a car for my meeting today."
"The timing of your meeting figured heavily in my urging the mechanic to put a rush on things," Carter said. "He only called an hour ago to tell me she was ready."
Tee ran his hand over the front fender. "Pretty sweet, huh? You wanna take her for a spin?"
I bit my lip. "Wait a second. This must have cost a lot of money. All the body work, the windshields, the paint job. And those are new tires. What's all this going to cost?"
"There is no bill," Tee insisted. "No cash changed hands. Shawn's girlfriend needed a lawyer, we needed a car fixed. It all worked out."
"It's a zero balance," Carter said solemnly. He held up his right hand. "Scout's honor."
"Then I owe you the money you would have gotten in legal fees, plus my own legal fees," I persisted. "I want a bill, Carter. That's the only way I'll take the Catfish back. That was our deal, remember? The pink slip for legal fees."
"C'mon, Dempsey," Tee said, tugging at my hand. "Will you let it go, please? It's a gift. From us to you."
I shook my head stubbornly. "My mother taught me some manners. Candy or flowers or books are proper gifts from a gentleman. She never said anything about cars."
Carter chuckled. "She's got us there, son. Your mother told you the same thing when you started dating." He rolled his eyes. "When he was fourteen, young Romeo here bought his lady friend a pair of blue jeans for Valentine's Day. Sarah was horrified."
"Got 'em at the Belk's in the Macon mall," Tee admitted. "I spent a month's worth of my lawn-mowing money on 'em, and then Mama made me take 'em back."
"What was that young lady's name?" Carter asked.
"Lydia Dexter," Tee said promptly. "The love of my life till she dumped me for B. J. Johnson. He was the first guy in our class to get his driver's license, because he failed fifth grade. Once she saw that Toyota Tacoma of his, it was all over between us. I still can't believe it. Ditched for a Japanese pickup truck. I tell ya, I'm still traumatized when I think about it."
"Cars. It all comes down to cars," I muttered.
Carter cleared his throat. "Dempsey, I don't have a bill to give you because we don't always work that way in Guthrie. It was a pure barter situation. And I can't let you give me this car as payment for my meager legal services. My fees might add up to the cost of one of those tires. So you see, my dear, we are at an impasse."
Tee jingled the car keys in front of my face. "C'mon. You know you want to see how she drives. And how else were you going to get to your meeting?"
I snatched the keys from his hand. "This isn't over," I said. "I'll find a way to pay you back, Carter, if I have to show up at your office and clean windows to pay off my debt."
"The office," Carter said. "Now there's an idea. I have somebody who does windows, but I could use some help with my caseload. And I seem to remember you have a law degree."
"From Georgetown," I said. "Although I'm not licensed in Georgia."
"Interesting," Carter said, nodding. "We must discuss this, Dempsey, if you're serious."
"I'm serious about paying you back," I told him.
Tee glanced at his watch. "Okay, you can negotiate a settlement later. Right now, it's after noon. Let's go get some lunch." He glared at me. "My treat, or we don't go. It's a date. Remember dates?"
"It's been a long time," I told him. "You might have to refresh my memory."
He opened the door on the driver's side, and I slid onto the leather seat. He loped around to the passenger side, and as we drove off, Carter gave us a snappy salute.
"I just love your dad," I told Tee, returning Carter's salute. "He's like someone from another century."
"He thinks the world of you," Tee said.
I smiled. "We had a talk at the dance Saturday night. I accused him of wondering if my intentions toward you are honorable."
"I hope you told him they aren't," Tee said, throwing his arm across my shoulders and scooting over on the seat beside me. He nibbled on my earlobe. I tried to concentrate on my driving.
"He's worried that I'm trifling with you," I said, not daring to take my eyes off the road. "He seems to think things have gotten pretty serious between us."
"That old hound," Tee said, groaning. "He's about as subtle as a sledgehammer. What did you tell him?"
I chose my words carefully. "He told me he's glad I make you happy. And I told him you make me very happy. He said he wished I could have met your mom. And then he said something, like, wishing I would stay."
"Stay?"
"Here. In Guthrie."
"What did you say to that?"
"Nothing. The song ended. 'The Twelfth of Never.' Kind of a dumb song, don't you think?" I held my breath, wondering what he would say to that.
He put his lips next to my ear and hummed a bar of "The Twelfth of Never."
"What if that song were still playing? What if instead of my old man, it was me you were dancing with? Johnny Mathis was always the king of the make-out song. What if we were dancing, right now, and I told you I've fallen in love with you. What if I asked you if you would stay? Right here in Guthrie. With me?"
I exhaled slowly. "I'd say I think I'm falling too. But I want the song to keep playing. Just a little longer, Tee. I'd say let's enjoy the right now. Let me get through this meeting with Alex Hodder. Let me banish the past before I try to figure out the future."
I shot him a quick, pleading look. "Please? Let me get through today?"
"And then you'll give me a straight answer? No more stalling? Yes or no?"
I nodded my head. "Absolutely."
"Then let's get some lunch."
62.