No Defense (14 page)

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He’s here all the time, sitting with you at
your booth, talking to you in your office. You go off with him all
the time, and, well, it’s starting to look funny.”

“Are you saying I’m not working hard enough
or that you think I’m fooling around with Ben Gainey? Or both?” I
asked angrily. “Maybe I’ve cut back a little on the hours here, but
not much. The restaurant’s running smoothly and doesn’t need my
constant attention anymore. So what if I spend a few of those
freed-up hours with Ben, helping him with his work?”

“I’m concerned, that’s all, and I thought
you should know,” Estelle said. “Seems like when you aren’t at your
booth with him, you’re off helping him meet people or showing him
the town or riding horses with him or something. You do some of his
typing. You make calls for him. You set up his appointments. You’re
always together, LuAnn.”

“I can’t believe you of all people would be
worried about me.”

“Look, I just felt like I had to bring it
up, friend to friend.” She removed her oven mitts and hung them on
the wall hook.

“This conversation is helping me remember
why I wanted out of Tallagumsa, Estelle,” I said. “Remember when we
were seniors? We talked about how you can’t breathe around here
without everyone knowing and then gossiping about it. First of all,
he’s a customer, and it’s my job to be nice to my customers. I also
think his work is fascinating. He needs my help, and I’m happy and
flattered to give it. I enjoy listening to his interviews and
hearing about his work. That’s all. He’s smart and he’s fun and
we’re friends. Period.”

“Fine, fine,” Estelle said. “I just had to
ask you, or I’d feel like I’d shirked my duties as your best
friend. I don’t want you to get yourself into something you can’t
get out of, LuAnn. You know-”

She stopped talking as the kitchen door
swung open and Doris, who was working lunch and dinner that day,
walked by us, popping her gum. She went behind the stainless-steel
island, piled a plate high with food, grabbed two corn sticks from
the bread warmer, and went into the back dining room to eat her own
lunch before the lunch rush began.

“Estelle,” I said, “I’m married, happily
married.”

“But you and Eddie haven’t been spending any
time together lately, none as far as I can see, and the way Ben
looks at you, anyone can tell he’s smitten. Don’t you think it’s
possible that-”

“No, I don’t,” I interrupted. “Ben is my
friend. That’s all. Just like you are. Forget about it.”

“You two ladies do not look happy,” Roland
said when he returned through the swinging door. “So what’s going
on? What are y’all so upset about?”

“Nothing!” I said.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Roland
said.

Estelle moved to one of the stainless-steel
work areas, where she began to crack eggs, carefully separating the
yolks from the whites for pie meringue. A small mountain of egg
shells grew next to her right arm.

“Tell me,” Roland begged.

“It’s nothing!” I insisted. “Did you talk to
the fish guy?”

“Yes,” Roland said. “Dinner is under
control, considering I have to cook city food.”

“Leaf and romaine lettuce are not city food.
Neither is tuna steak with bell peppers and mushrooms. They are
just good, healthy food.” I sighed. “Maybe I’ve made the menu too
complicated. Do y’all really think tonight’s going to work
out?”

“We’ve told you a hundred times to stop
worrying about tonight,” Estelle said.

“I will if you stop worrying about me,” I
said. “Can you meet me upstairs in twenty minutes to start setting
up, Estelle? First I’m going to clean the check-out counter. It’s a
mess up there, and it’s the first thing all our guests will
see.”

“Sure, boss,” Estelle said.

“Oh, and Buck is bringing by that gigantic
picture of Daddy to hang behind the speaker’s table, plus he has
something for every place setting-a commemorative thing, a pen or
something. He should be here soon. Do we have all the waitresses
and busboys we need lined up?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Estelle said. “Believe it
or not, I know what I’m doing here.”

“Thanks,” I said. I gave her a quick hug.
“Sorry I got a little mad,” I whispered in her ear.

“No whispering in my kitchen,” Roland called
out, “unless I’m included.” He laughed.

Kneeling down behind the check-out counter, I
moved cigars, Life Savers, and candy bars out, cleaned the glass
shelves with Windex, refilled the boxes, and put them back. I was
directly visible to anyone four feet tall or less.

Someone standing in front of the counter
cleared their throat. “LuAnn,” a familiar voice called, “could you
get up and take my money please? I have a trial in five
minutes.”

“Just a sec, Junior,” I said. I pushed
myself up, holding on to the top of the cashier’s stool for
support. “Who are you putting in jail today?”

He handed me his check and a five. His top
shirt button was open under his tie. It had always been difficult
for him to find shirts that would close comfortably around his
thick neck.

“Nobody,” he said. “Taking a kid away from
his crazy father and trying to find a place for a teenager who
can’t stop stealing. That’s all I have on the docket for
today.”

He picked up a handful of thinly wrapped
toothpicks from the fake gold bowl on the counter, each wrapper
bearing the name of the Steak House, and stuck them in his jacket
pocket.

I counted out his change. “One, two, three,
four, and that makes five. You happy with your work here,
Junior?”

“I sure am.”

“Don’t you miss D.C.? All the excitement,
the big cases, politics, all that stuff?”

“Not really. I feel like I’m having an
impact here. And it’s nice and quiet, safe and predictable. You
know me: I like life a little slower than some. I’m happy.”

“I hear you may be using Tallagumsa as a
stepping stone to something bigger,” I said.

He shrugged and smiled. “We’ll see.” Then he
folded one of the dollars I’d just given him several times over and
pushed it through the narrow opening in the plastic container
attached to the York mint-patty display. “I love these,” Junior
said, picking up a handful of mints. “How ‘bout you, LuAnn?
Restaurant life suit you?”

“I think so. Except for this to-do tonight.
I hope I don’t embarrass Daddy with bad food or lousy service on
his big night. Are you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m sure it
will be a success. You’re doing a great job, LuAnn. Everybody says
so.”

“Thanks, Junior.”

“See you tonight.” He patted my hand gently,
his large hand covering mine. Then he ambled away.

I knelt back down and finished restocking
the top shelf of the cabinet with M&M’s, Hershey Bars, Baby
Ruths, and Butterfingers and tried to remember why I’d been so
madly in love with Junior all through high school. Although I was
fond of him now, I wasn’t attracted to him in the least. Not for
the first time I wondered: What made love come, what made love
go?

That afternoon I hadn’t been home from work
even an hour when it was time to dress and go back to the Steak
House. The party preparations and the heat had left me feeling very
frazzled. I’d tried to leave earlier, in time to fit in a nap, but
there’d been too many details to attend to.

Jolene bathed the children while I tried to
choose an outfit. Usually I knew what to wear to a party, but that
night, the more I stared at my clothes, the less I knew what would
be right. Buck had instructed me carefully on what the children,
Eddie, and I should wear for all the photo ops of the campaign, but
I didn’t own much that fit within his narrow range of approved
clothes.

Five outfits lay across my bed. I had placed
matching shoes at the ends of pants legs and a foot or so. below
the hems of skirts and dresses. It looked like a party was in
progress. Only the bodies were missing.

After trying on every outfit, I was no
closer to a final decision than when I started. Each seemed worse
than the one before, and I felt bone tired, tired of lifting one
arm after the other, picking up one leg, then the next, tired of
buttoning buttons and zipping zippers. Dressed only in my
underwear, I flopped down in the armchair by the bed, pushed the
footstool away, and crossed my bare legs and feet Indian style. The
next thing I knew, something brushed against my arm and woke me
from a sound sleep.

Jessie held her “magic wand,” a star made of
a silver clothlike material that sparkled in the sunlight as though
someone had covered it with glue and dipped it over and over again
into a vat of sparkles until it seemed to explode with light. When
she waved the wand, the purple ribbons attached to it had floated
through the air and tickled me awake.

“Hey, honey,” I said. “You look beautiful!”
She had on a new dress from her aunt Jane, a sleeveless summer
dress in a yellow, green, and lavender floral pattern with a giant
yellow bow in back.

I looked at the clock. Five. Cocktails were
at six, so I should already have been back at the restaurant. I’d
slept for thirty minutes. “Where’s Daddy, Jessie?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Is he home from work?”

“No.”

“He’s working so hard, isn’t he? You know
why? His show is coming up soon. He’ll hang all his best cartoons
up at the college and people from all over can come and look at
them,” I said. What I was thinking, though, was that I’d never
forgive him if he didn’t get home soon. He knew I’d need help
getting the kids to the Steak House. He knew it was important that
we arrive together.

“Like the ones he draws for me?”Jessie
asked, leaning against the bed. She had a scrapbook of cartoons
Eddie had made just for her over the years, cartoons featuring
Jessie and various members of our family.

“Exactly.” I stood up and started to
dress.

“Does he need mine?” she asked, a worried
look on her face.

“No, sweetie, he has plenty of his own.” The
cartoons Eddie had finally chosen for the show had been framed the
week before and delivered to the college. The right side of Eddie’s
studio bulletin board was now empty.

“Jolene,” I yelled as soon as I was dressed.
After all that agonizing, I had chosen the outfit I’d started with.
Buck would approve of the simple black linen dress, pearls, and
black high heels.

“Yes?” she yelled back.

“Are the twins ready?”

“Just about.”

“Great. We’ve got to get going. Will you
come with me over to the Steak House and help with the kids until
Eddie arrives? Please? I’m desperate.”

I knew she’d say yes.

Jessie and I gathered the twins’ diaper
bags, bottles, a few plastic toys they liked to hold and suck, and
the baskets they sometimes slept in. We put the things in the trunk
of the car. I went back in for Will, stopping to grab a few extra
pacifiers from his crib just in case, and Jolene picked up
Hank.

Jolene and I walked out of the house with
the boys. I grabbed the wrought-iron porch railing to steady
myself-I wasn’t used to walking in high heels. I never wore them to
work. Hobbling a little, I reached the car, strapped the kids in,
and drove us all to the Steak House.

My mother and father were seated in the
middle of the head table as the guests of honor. Next to Daddy was
Senator Harold Collins and his wife, Sally, then Buck and Jane. The
present governor, Stu Gordon, and his wife, Didi, were on Mother’s
side, then Jessie and I. The oversized photograph of Daddy hung
right behind us. Ben and Junior were at a table with a group of
press people from around the state. A few photographers roamed the
room, snapping pictures for different publications.

The cocktail hour had ended. The soup course
had come and gone. Eddie still hadn’t arrived.

He walked in just as the salad was being
served, said hello to everyone at the head table, kissed me and
Jessie, and sat down, no apology at all. He wore his usual jeans, a
button-down shirt, and a tie.

“Go down and tell Jolene she can leave, then
bring the twins’ baskets up here,” I hissed, furious at his
timing.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

“I was busy at school, okay? I didn’t
realize how late it was. At least I’m here. There are a lot of
other places I’d rather be.”

“That’s flattering,” I said, smiling for the
benefit of the people eating at the tables in front of the
speakers’ table.

He glared at me.

“Smile when you talk,” I ordered Eddie.

“You know what I meant,” he said. “I’d
prefer anywhere to a bullshit political function. Why do I have to
smile?”

“You’re impossible,” I said. “Just go tell
Jolene.”

I slipped my high heels off and walked around
in my stocking feet, helping the waitresses dean up after the last
guest left a little before ten. Jessie was coloring in a Raggedy
Ann coloring book with her aunt Jane, who was still pregnant, thank
goodness. My father and Buck were discussing the opening of the
campaign: who’d come, who hadn’t, what it all meant. Eddie sat at
the far end of the room near the sleeping twins, smoking a
Salem.