I'll Stand by You (38 page)

Frankie was stumbling up the aisle toward the door, yanking at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt when two police officers arrested him for rape and yanked his hands behind his back. Before he knew it, he was cuffed. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t loosen his clothing. He couldn’t even scratch. It was his worst nightmare come to life.

Lon Pittman caught Dori’s eye and almost winked as he began dragging his prisoner out the door while the other officer read him his rights.

“Frankie Ricks, you are under arrest. You have the right to—”

Peanut Butterman was already on his feet when Dori jumped out of her chair and hugged him. She leaned over the railing and hugged Johnny, then turned around hugged Butterman all over again.

“You did it! You saved us,” she cried.

Peanut shook his head. “You saved yourself, Dori, and you should be very, very proud. If you hadn’t stood up for yourself the way you did, I doubt if any of the other victims would have come forward.”

“Is it over?” she asked. “Is everything over? Will I have to testify at his rape trial?”

“Maybe, but I would seriously doubt if it goes to trial. I’m betting he’ll plead out and take his chances with a judge—one other than Beecham, of course.”

Johnny leaned across the railing and shook Peanut’s hand.

“We are so grateful.”

Peanut grinned. “It was my pleasure. I’ll send you a bill.”

“It will be the best money we ever spent,” Dori said. “So, can we go now?”

“Yep, you’re free to go. Go have a great life while you’re at it, okay?”

“Okay!” Dori said and then looked around for Johnny again, but he was already coming around the railing to get her.

He picked her up in his arms and swung her off her feet. She was laughing with joy when their friends surrounded them.

* * *

It was just after sundown on a hot Sunday evening when the Pine family loaded up the car to go get ice cream. All of the boys were in the backseat, and Johnny and Dori were buckled in the front. When they drove across the railroad tracks and started uptown, instead of turning right, Johnny turned to the left.

“Hey! This ain’t the way to ice cream!” Beep yelled.

“This isn’t the way,” Johnny said.

“I already said that,” Beep muttered.

Dori was puzzled too, but in the two short months she’d been his wife, she’d learned that Johnny never did anything by accident, so she stayed quiet, waiting.

He took the back streets of neighborhoods she hadn’t been through in years, and then he turned back north. When she realized where she was, her heart started pounding. She sat straighter, unaware she was also leaning forward. Two blocks more and he tapped the brakes and pulled over.

They were at the scene of the fire—only all evidence of the fire was gone, the debris on the lot long since hauled away.

The house across the street, where the Joneses used to live, sat empty, with a For Sale sign in the front yard. While she was staring, remembering, he reached across the seat and took her hand.

“We start building a pad for the house tomorrow, and I’m doing it. I just wanted you to see, to know that everything bad is gone and tomorrow is for good times.”

The boys were silent in the backseat, aware of the momentous occasion. Dori knew she was looking at their future, but she was also remembering the past. He’d come out of the night in her darkest hour to give them shelter, then ultimately his love. She squeezed his hand as she turned to face him.

“People have mentioned often in the past few months how crazy brave it was of us to get married after only one week together. I’ve always smiled or laughed it off, because that was our business, not theirs. But the truth is that when you’ve survived the worst, it doesn’t take nearly as long to recognize the best.”

The lump in Johnny’s throat was so big, he could barely breathe. He’d never considered their life blessed in any way before Dori and the baby walked into their house, and then it had become instantly clear that they were what had been missing.

Then a little voice from the backseat whispered, “How about that ice cream?”

Dori laughed.

Johnny grinned at Beep. “Yeah, how about that ice cream. I’m getting chocolate.”

“I want starberry,” Beep said.

“I want vanilla,” Marshall added.

“What about you, Mama? What do you want?” Beep asked.

Dori looked over her shoulder at the trio in the back and then back at Johnny.

“I think I want vanilla too, but I don’t want no dried-up grapes on it.”

* * *

The next morning, Ruby Dye walked in the back door of the Curl Up and Dye to begin her day. She dumped her stuff in the workroom and then went through the salon, turning on lights, turning the Closed sign to Open, and unlocking the front door. As she did, she saw the Greyhound bus pulling to a stop a few blocks up. They always saw the bus go through town, but she couldn’t remember the last time it had stopped. Curious, she stood, watching to see who was getting off.

The driver got out and went right to the luggage compartment beneath the bus, and still Ruby waited, wanting to see what passenger claimed the large duffel bag the driver laid out on the sidewalk.

Finally, she saw a leg, then the side of someone’s shoulder. Well, it was a man, but that’s all she could see. The driver got back on board, and moments later, the bus pulled away, leaving a puff of black cloud from the exhaust behind.

When she saw the uniform, she realized it was a soldier, but he was too far away for her to recognize his face. She watched him pick up the duffel bag and walk away, limping.

“A wounded warrior. Blessings on you,” she said softly and then went about her business.

Throughout the morning, she kept wondering who he was and where he’d gone, but it was something to find out for another day.

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In case you missed it, read on for an excerpt from
The Curl Up and Dye
by Sharon Sala

LilyAnn Bronte already knew how fast life could change. Her past was a road map to prove it. But on this particular Friday in the first week of November, she experienced one of those déjà vu moments as the Good Lord hit Rewind on the story that was her life.

She was sweeping the front sidewalk of Phillips’ Pharmacy, where she worked, when she heard the low, sexy rumble of a hot-rod engine. The skin crawled on the back of her neck as a shiny black pickup truck went rumbling down Main Street.

Before she could see the driver, sunlight hit the windshield, reflecting directly into her eyes. At the same time she went blind, she heard him rack the pipes on the muffler, just like Randy Joe used to do when he picked her up for their Saturday night date. But that was a long time ago, before he went away to war in Afghanistan and got himself killed.

She had no idea who was driving this truck, and when she looked again, it was turning the corner at the far end of the street and then it was out of sight.

For LilyAnn, seeing that truck and hearing the pipes rattle felt like a sign. Was it the universe telling her she was living in the past? Because if it was, she already knew that.

LilyAnn had been a constant source of pride for her parents through all her growing-up years. She was an honor student and a cheerleader, and was voted prettiest and friendliest every year by her class. When she was chosen head cheerleader her senior year, Randy Joe Bentonfield, the star quarterback, also chose her for his steady girl.

But it wasn’t until she won the title of the Peachy-Keen Queen that her parents broke out in full braggadocio. Lily felt as if her life could not get any better. But as the old saying goes, once you’ve reached the top, the only place to go is downhill.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, two planes flew into the World Trade Center in New York City and another one into the Pentagon. When the fourth one was taken down by the plane’s passengers, crashing into a cornfield and killing all on board, the world suddenly stopped turning.

National outrage followed the shock as young men and women from all over the country began enlisting in the army, including a lot of the young men in Blessings.

Randy Joe was one of the first to sign up. She cried herself silly, after which they made love. Randy Joe was so full of himself about being a man going away to war that he gave her a promise ring before he went away to boot camp. He came back long enough to have his picture taken in his uniform and then he shipped out, returning a month later in a flag-draped casket.

People said it had been a good thing he’d had that picture taken beforehand because he’d come back to Blessings in pieces, no longer fit for viewing.

His death devastated Lily. She dropped out of college that year and wore black, which went really well with her long blond hair. She visited his grave site every day for a year, and people said what a faithful young woman she was, grieving for her lost love in such a fashion.

One year turned into two and then three, and everything became a blur. Her daddy had a heart attack and died, which turned her mama into a widow, and Lily barely remembered her dreams for the future and had forgotten how to get there.

The worst were the times when she could no longer bring Randy Joe’s face to mind. At that point, the guilt would set her to eating a whole pint of chocolate-chip ice cream, just because it was his favorite treat. It didn’t revive her memory, but it did pack on the pounds.

The years came and went without notice until Lily was eleven years lost. Now she only visited his grave when she thought about it and had unwittingly masked her emotions with a bulwark of extra weight.

LilyAnn was stuck in a rut: too afraid to step out for fear of getting too close to someone and getting left behind all over again.

* * *

At least, that’s how Lily
had
felt, until today when she’d heard the rattle of those pipes. She felt off-center, like she was trying to balance on one leg, and became convinced that truck was an omen of great change.

At noon, Lily clocked out and headed for her weekly appointment at the Curl Up and Dye. When she reached the salon, she was relieved. This was a safe place, where people came to get pretty. If only there was a place where people could go to get their lives back, she’d be the first in line.

The bell over the door jingled as she walked inside. The owner, Ruby Dye, who everyone called Sister, was already smiling, which prompted Lily to smile back.

“Hey, LilyAnn. How’s it going, honey? Boy, that wind is sharp today, isn’t it?”

Lily nodded as she hung up her jacket. “Yes, it’s getting cold. I sure hate to see winter coming.”

“I kind of like it,” Ruby said. “The short days and long nights give me time to den up with a good book and some popcorn, or watch old movies.”

The last thing Lily needed was more time to eat through the loneliness.

“I guess,” she said as she sat down at the shampoo station.

As soon as Ruby put the cape around her neck, Lily leaned her head back in the sink and closed her eyes. Getting her long blond hair washed by someone else was pure luxury. When Ruby began scrubbing and massaging Lily’s scalp, the tension in her shoulders began to ease. By the time they were through and she was back in the stylist chair, Lily was two shades shy of having been put into a trance.

Ruby eyed the young woman, watching the way Lily looked everywhere but in the mirror at herself. If only there was a way to get her out of the rut she was in.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested in a new hairstyle?” Ruby asked.

Lily frowned. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“No matter. One of these days we’ll figure something out,” Ruby said.

Her thumb was on the Power button when they all heard the sound of a hot rod passing by. Whatever the driver had done to that engine, it rumbled like a stereo with the bass set on high.

Lily’s eyes widened. It had to be the driver with the truck like Randy Joe’s. She swiveled her chair around so fast to get a look that Ruby got the round brush tangled up in her hair.

“I’m sorry. Did that pull?” Ruby asked as she began trying to unwind it.

Lily was oblivious. “No, no, it didn’t hurt,” she muttered, still craning her neck to see the driver.

And then to everyone’s surprise, the truck pulled up to the curb in front of the salon and parked, the driver racking the pipes one last time before killing the engine.

Vesta and Vera Conklin, the twin fortysomething hairstylists, had been eating their lunch in the break room and came out to see what the noise was all about.

The rest of the women in the shop turned to look as the driver walked in.

He was a thirtysomething hunk in a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt tucked into a pair of fitted Wrangler jeans. He had wide shoulders, long legs, slim hips, and a face bordering on cute rather than handsome, but he was working with what he had just fine.

He immediately swept the dove-gray Stetson from his head, revealing dark wavy hair, and smiled at the room like a star granting an audience to his fans.

Even though Vesta had yet to meet a man worth her time, she wasn’t dead and buried. She handed Vera her bowl of salad and scooted toward the counter.

“Welcome to the Curl Up and Dye. Can I help you?” she asked.

“I sure hope so, darlin’. My name is T. J. Lachlan and I’m new in town. I went to get a haircut and learned the local barber is in the hospital. When I saw your Walk-Ins Welcome sign, I wondered if I might trouble one of you fine ladies for a trim.”

“Sure, I have time,” Vesta said.

Vera glared at her sister, then smirked. “No you don’t, Vesta. Sue Beamon is due any minute.” She set the bowls with their food back in the break room and sauntered to the front of the store and introduced herself.

“Welcome to Blessings, Mr. Lachlan. My name is Vera, and I’d be happy to cut your hair.”

“Y’all can call me T. J., and isn’t this something. Excuse me for saying this, but twins are truly a man’s finest fancy,” he said and then flashed them both a wide grin.