Iris Avenue (4 page)

“She should know,” Maggie said

“Meow, cousin. I’m telling her you said that.”

A group of customers came in and the lunch rush began.

Ed Harrison sat at his desk in the Rose Hill Sentinel newspaper office, his finger poised over the “Enter” key on his computer keyboard. He’d finished designing a website for the weekly paper, had proofread it multiple times, and was about to publish it on the Internet. It was a momentous occasion for the paper as well as for Ed, the third generation owner. The subscription base and advertising sales for the printed paper barely supported the business and Ed’s few personal expenses, and it had finally become evident that a change must be made.

Ed couldn’t imagine how a website could take the place of the weekly paper, let alone support the business. Some of the older local business owners had balked at paying additional fees to have ads on the Internet version of the Sentinel, but the younger generation of business owners who had websites jumped on board. Ed was planning to launch the thing today, and hoped it wouldn’t be a huge failure, or ruin what was left of his print business.

Ed’s grandfather had started the Sentinel, and Ed’s father brought him up to take over the business. Now Ed was bringing it into the twenty-first century, albeit a little behind the curve. His father had done his own typesetting and operated a printing press up until the day he keeled over with a heart attack.

Ed, who was working on a Philadelphia daily paper at the time, came home immediately, made arrangements for his father’s funeral, and impulsively decided to take over the Sentinel. He purchased a computer and the requisite publishing software, and then engaged a local printing company to publish the little weekly.

Ed made the paper his whole life, just like his father had, and his wife left him, just like Ed’s mother left his father. Ed quickly settled into the same ruts in which his father traveled every day: he did the same job, lived in the same house, drank the same beer while he sat on the same stool in the same bar, and drove the same truck. Over the years he had transformed from an energetic, promising young journalist into the middle-aged caretaker of one of the town’s most sacred cows.

Ed clicked on the button that published the website and exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Mandy came in and swooped down on him with a big smooch and a hug from behind. This was more like the affectionate greeting he was used to.

“Hey, good lookin’,” she said. “How’s my baby today?”

“Same as I was a little while ago. Why aren’t you working?”

“I got some time off so I could run some errands. I told you ‘bout that, but you weren’t listenin’. Got yer nose stuck to that computer all the time.”

“I launched the website today.”

“That’s great! Are you gonna add a celebrity gossip page, like I said?”

“I don’t think that’s quite right for the Sentinel.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s the only thing people read on the Internet. My favorite part’s the blind items and the pictures of the crazy outfits.”

“Hopefully people will read the news online as well,” Ed said, “or I may have to go to work at the Rose and Thorn alongside you.”

“Don’t you worry, honey,” she said. “It’ll do great, I just know it. You’re the smartest man I know, and you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

Ed wished he felt that confident.

Hannah came in and greeted Mandy, who sailed out, blowing Ed a big kiss as she went.

“Oo la la,” Hannah said. “It’s still the honeymoon suite in here, I see.”

“What can I do for you, Hannah?” Ed asked her.

“I came to see Hank, not you,” Hannah said, and walked over to look at the big black lab, who was asleep on a red cushion by the gas stove.

“No more dogs, Hannah,” Ed said.

“Now, why would you jump to that conclusion?” Hannah asked him, as she stooped down to rub Hank’s belly. “I just wanted to stop in and see my old buddy. He’s getting awfully fat, by the way. He could use a friend to play with.”

“I jumped to that conclusion because I know you so well,” Ed said. “What is it this time?”

“It’s a lab mix,” she said. “She’s so sweet and perfect for you.”

“The last time you said you had a lab mix that was perfect for me, it was two percent lab and ninety-eight percent vicious killer.”

“This is different. You’ve got to come see her; she’s over at Drew’s.”

“Hannah, no. Even if she’s wonderful, my house is bursting at the seams as it is.”

“Alright,” Hannah said. “I’ll have to throw her in the kennel with the stone-cold killers and hope she survives. I found homes for all of Theo’s dogs, you know.”

“Everyone knows,” Ed said. “On your own time with county resources.”

“She’ll keep Hank company, and really, two are no more trouble than one.”

“I can’t take on any more responsibility,” Ed said. “Housebreaking would just about do me in.”

“That’s okay,” Hannah said, backing out the door. “You’ve got enough on your plate. I understand.”

Ed sighed deeply, then got up and put on his jacket.

“Stay,” he told Hank, who didn’t even open his eyes.

When Tommy arrived at the newspaper office at lunchtime he found Ed typing on the computer keyboard with one hand while cradling a small black puppy against his chest with the other.

Ed handed the puppy to an ecstatic Tommy and said, “If you want her, you’ll have to take full responsibility. You’ll have to feed her and make sure she gets outside in time to poop and pee, every hour until she learns to hold it. I can keep her while you’re in school, but otherwise, she’ll be your problem.”

Tommy took the puppy from Ed’s arms, and it whimpered a bit.

“Where’d she come from?” Tommy said, as he cuddled her up under his chin.

“Hannah found her,” was all Ed said.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Tommy said.

Mandy came in with a big smile that disappeared as soon as she saw the puppy. She gave Ed a pointed look.

“Do I get to vote, or has this decision already done been made?” she asked.

Tommy looked up in a panic, but Ed shrugged and met Mandy’s irritated look with a cool one of his own.

“If you don’t want Tommy to have the dog, he can’t have the dog,” he said.

“I’ll take care of her,” Tommy pleaded. “Please, Mom.”

Mandy and Ed locked eyes for a long moment.

“Thanks a lot, Ed,” she said. “Like I could say ‘no,’ now.”

“Tommy has promised to look after her,” Ed said. “It will be a good experience for him.”

“Good thing, because I ain’t cleanin’ up after it,” she declared. “You better make sure it don’t chew up none of my shoes, neither.”

“I will, I will,” Tommy said.

“You better take her out and see if she needs to pee,” Ed told him.

As soon as the boy left, Ed said to Mandy, “I know I should have consulted you first and I’m sorry. Please don’t take it out on Tommy.”

Mandy embraced Ed and snuggled up under his chin.

“That’s alright,” she said. “We’re still findin’ our way ‘round each other.”

Ed hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

When Tommy came back in, he was smiling from ear to ear.

“She peed and pooped.”

“Grab a plastic grocery bag and go pick it up,” Ed said.

Tommy made a face.

“That’s what it means to be a responsible pet owner,” Ed told him. “Anything that comes out of that dog you clean up.”

Tommy nodded and fetched a grocery bag out of the office kitchen.

“I’ll go to the grocery store and get her some food after you go back to school,” Ed told Tommy when he came back. “She’s too little to eat Hank’s food.”

“I gotta get to work,” Mandy said to Ed. “Don’t forget you have basketball practice at 7:30 and Tommy needs help with his homework. You boys be good.”

She kissed them both and left.

Tommy ate and then went back to school. Ed took the pup down to the IGA to pick out some chow.

Morris Hatcher stopped in at the Fitzpatricks’ Service Station right before Patrick left to go to his afternoon job at the Rose and Thorn. “Hatch,” as he was known, was a homely car mechanic who had been Hannah’s high school boyfriend. He worked at a service station in Fleurmania, a town so small it made Rose Hill seem like a metropolis.

Patrick embraced Hatch and clapped him on the back.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Patrick said. “I didn’t think Marvin ever let you off the chain up there.”

“That mean old sumbitch up and died on me this past weekend,” Hatch said. “Can you believe that?”

“Well, he wasn’t exactly a health nut,” Patrick said, and invited Hatch inside out of the cold wind.

Station owner Curtis Fitzpatrick greeted Hatch warmly and offered him a seat by the stove. The old coots had toddled off home for lunch so they had the place to themselves except for the mechanic, Lester, who was working on a car in one of the two service bays.

“I can’t believe Marvin lived as long as he did,” Curtis said when they told him. “He had that sugar problem and drank like a fish.”

“He was a big man,” Patrick said, “around the middle and at both ends.”

“Yep,” Hatch said. “Had himself a heart attack. His wife said he was yelling at some politician on the TV and just fell over.”

“What’s going to happen to the station?” Curtis asked.

“Well,” Hatch said. “That’s what I came to talk to y’all about. I was hoping you’d want to buy it.”

“Nah,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “You know as well as I do that selling gas doesn’t make much money, and at least we’ve got the tourist trade. Fleurmania isn’t on anyone’s way anywhere.”

“We do alright,” Hatch said. “I get a lot of repair business from the Mennonite church and the Sugar Creek mine. If I had the money I’d buy the place myself. Slim Nida said he’d drive the wrecker for me and his wife Edith could work the front office.”

“Can’t you get a loan?”

“Not without a down payment. I could pay the payments, but not the twenty percent down.”

“How much does the widow want?”

“A hundred grand.”

“Lordy day, son,” Curtis said. “That old station’s not worth that. Don’t you let Melvin’s old lady hornswaggle you.”

“It’s not just the building,” Hatch said. “It includes the oil company contract, all the equipment, the wrecker, and the tire and battery business.”

“You should get that appraised. I still think she’s cheatin’ ya.”

“So you really ain’t interested?” Hatch asked.

“No, son, I haven’t got twenty grand to play around with, and I can’t afford to take the risk. I’ve got no debt right now, and I aim to keep it that way.”

“What about you, Patrick?”

“If I were gonna spend a hundred grand,” Patrick said. “I’d buy the old Woolworths building, expand the bar, add a proper stage, sound equipment, and a dance floor. Sorry, Hatch.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” Hatch said.

“Now, if you need work I’d love to have you over here,” Curtis said. “We get more than enough business to keep two mechanics busy, and I can always use another tow driver in the winter.”

“I appreciate that,” Hatch said. “I’ll keep that in mind, I will.”

Hatch stood up to go and Patrick offered to buy him a beer at the Thorn.

“No, I got my sister’s child in school up to home, and I like to be there when he gets off the bus,” Hatch said. “You tell Hannah I said hi.”

“I’ll do it,” Curtis said.

After Hatch left, Curtis shook his head and sighed.

“That poor boy never had a chance. I pulled what was left of his daddy’s truck up out of a ravine after he wrecked it; he was soaked in whiskey and dead on arrival. Then his mama died of cancer and left him with all those kids to raise. Ian and I offered to take them in, but Hatch said he wasn’t raised to accept any charity.”

“Maggie said the oldest girl’s got mixed up with drugs,” Patrick said. “It’s her boy Hatch is raising.”

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Curtis said. “Hatch was a good boy and he just never seemed to catch a break. Marvin should have left him that business. They didn’t have any children, and you know Hatch probably never missed a day of work in twenty years.”

“Maybe he’ll come work for us,” Patrick said. “I’ll run out there and ask him again in a week or two.”

“You know I love my son-in-law,” Curtis said, “but that Hatch would have been an excellent addition to our family. Hannah was heartbroken when he quit school. Just think if he hadn’t done that he’d probably be working here with us now.”

“For cheap, like me,” Patrick said.

“You heard from Sam?” Curtis asked him.

Hannah’s husband Sam was Patrick’s best friend.

“No,” Patrick said. “But he’ll be back.”

“I don’t know if that marriage is going to make it,” Curtis said.

Patrick was silent, watching Hatch pull out of the service station parking lot in a beat up truck that nevertheless sounded like it possessed a finely tuned engine under the hood.