Stepping to a New Day (11 page)

Riley looked up. “Really?”

“Says she's going to put it where the old house used to be. She's also keeping time with Gary Clark's uncle.”

“Who?”

Clay explained and finished by saying, “She said it was only lunch but I think something more's going on.”

By then Riley was only half listening. He was thinking about her trailer. If he could finally convince her to own up to the error of her ways, maybe her guilt would allow him and Cletus to move back in. “She still staying with Marie?”

Clay nodded.

“Maybe after we check out Eustacia's place I'll stop in and see her. For old times' sake.”

Clay looked suspicious but Riley was too busy forming a plan to notice.

After breakfast, while Clay cleaned up the kitchen—Riley didn't offer to help—Riley took Cletus a large mixing bowl of his favorite rice cereal that he'd had Clay buy at the grocery store. “Here's your breakfast, big boy.”

Cletus trotted over and Riley slid the bowl beneath the bottom rung of the pen and set it on the ground. While the hog ate, Riley said, “Going to see Genevieve later.”

Cletus raised his head and squealed.

“I know,” Riley said. “I don't want to see her either but we need somewhere to live. Clay's not going to let us stay here much longer and she's getting her own place. This whole mess is her fault, and once I explain it to her she'll let us come back.”

Riley heard a horn blow. It was Clay in his truck. “Okay, I have to go. You be good.”

The ride over to Eustacia's took only a few minutes. The last time he'd seen the place he'd been too tired to really take it in and now as he and Clay approached the porch, he swore the front door was different. “What happened to the other door?”

“Had to be replaced.”

To Riley's surprise Clay had a key. “Where'd you get a key?”

“Trent.”

Before Riley could ask about that, Clay had the door opened. Riley followed him inside and for a moment all he could do was gape. The walls looked like someone had gone at them with sledgehammers. The carpets were ripped up as
were the floorboards underneath. Ceiling fans lay like dead insects amidst piles of broken plaster, splintered wood, and shattered glass. “What happened?”

“People tore the place up looking for gold.”

“What!”

So Clay explained about Cephas Patterson finding outlaw Griffin Blake's hidden stash of gold coins. “Last fall, when word got out, every treasure hunter within five hundred miles came to town looking for more.”

“And they came here?” Riley asked.

Clay nodded. “Probably because the place looked abandoned. They broke into Patterson's place and trashed it. The new recreation center was hit, too. By the time the police showed up and put a stop to it, the damage had been done.”

A grim Riley said, “Let's see the rest.” Stepping carefully because of all the broken glass, they continued the tour and he stared around in shock at the gutted kitchen. “Where are the appliances?” The fancy stainless steel double oven and its companion fridge were nowhere to be seen. All the high-end sink fixtures were missing, too.

“Looted. When the rioters didn't find any gold they took whatever they could, including Eustacia's appliances, air conditioner, furnace, and hot water heater.”

Riley wanted to cry. “Why didn't somebody let me know?”

“You didn't leave a forwarding address, remember.”

It was apparent that he and Cletus couldn't live there. Moving in with Genevieve was the only option. It was either that or pitch a tent and live outdoors, and he didn't own a tent or anything else for that matter. “Take me by Marie's so I can talk to Genevieve.”

“She's not going to take you back, Riley.”

“Who said anything about that? I just want to say hello.”

“Uh-huh. Instead of trying to bamboozle your way back into her life, you might want to look for a job. There's a new beauty shop in town run by Kelly Douglas. She'd probably let you rent a chair if you want to go back to barbering. The men here could use you.”

“I'll think about it,” he said, but in truth he wasn't. He just wanted to get back into Genevieve's good graces and maybe get access to her bank account again. “You driving me over to Marie's or not?”

Clay assessed him stonily. Riley sensed he wasn't liking the idea of him seeing Genevieve again even if they had broken things off, but he didn't care. She was his ex-wife and he had every right to see her if he wanted.

“Okay,” Clay said finally. “Let's go, and just so you'll know, Marie's got a bug up her butt. Don't expect a friendly greeting from her, either.”

Riley and Marie had never gotten along, so he didn't care.

On the drive over Riley racked his brain for a Plan B just in case he couldn't count on Genevieve's guilt. He thought back on how and where they first met and how much of a big shot she'd thought him to be and he knew he had her. Upon arriving at the Jefferson homestead, he puffed himself up. He and Genevieve hadn't parted on the best of terms but their forty years of marriage had to count for something. She'd take him back, he just knew she would.

Clay asked, “You want me to wait?”

“No.”

“If she knocks you out again, have somebody call me.”

“Ha. Ha.” Putting on his shades, Riley left the truck and Clay drove away.

On the porch, Riley pressed the doorbell. Seconds later, the white lace curtains in the front window moved then dropped back. Someone was home. He waited. Nothing. He pressed the bell again. Still no response. He leaned forcefully on the bell for a good ten seconds. The door was snatched open and there stood Marie.

“What do you want?”

“Came to see Genevieve.”

“She's not here.” The door slammed closed.

Hopping mad, he laid on the bell again, but when she didn't respond, he sighed in surrender. It occurred to him that maybe he should have had Clay wait. He now had no way to get back and no phone. Although it was a cloudy day, the temperature wasn't bad, so he took a seat on the top step to wait for Genevieve's return. He just hoped she wasn't out of town.

Genevieve was just leaving her tutoring session with Mrs. Rivard over in Franklin. TC stood waiting next to the car.

“Ready?” he asked as she approached.

“I am.”

He bowed elaborately and gestured for her to enter. She laughed and took her seat up front. A few seconds later he got in. No matter how hard she tried to dismiss it, riding beside him still made her feel like a teenager on her first date.

He started the car and headed them back toward Henry Adams. “How'd the lesson go?”

“It went well,” she told him. “She's almost at the point of not needing my help and that's the goal. I'm very proud of her.”

“How long have you been working with her?”

“About six weeks.”

“Is that average?”

“It depends on the person. When I took the training, I was told it could be as fast as a month or as long as six. Some students are very motivated and some are fearful.”

“I see.”

Something in his tone made her look his way. “Something wrong?”

“Nope. Just thinking about Mrs. Rivard. I imagine it took a lot of courage for her to ask for help.”

“It did. She couldn't read at all when we first got together.”

“Did she say what made her decide she wanted to learn?”

“Yes. She wanted to be able to read to her new grandchild. She hadn't been able to with her daughter.”

“That's pretty powerful.”

“It is.”

As always he had the jazz station on and a nice guitar tune began to play. “I like that,” she said. The display on the dash showed the name of the tune and the artist.

TC said, “Since I'm supposed to be keeping my eyes on the road, who's it by?”

“Lee Ritenour. Song is called ‘Windmill.' Says it's from his
World of Brazil
CD.”

“I'll have to get that.”

Gen took out her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Downloading it.”

He chuckled. “You're something else.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“That's how it was meant to be taken.”

She glanced up from her phone. His praise made her feel good inside and she said quietly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking me seriously.”

“How could I not?”

She shrugged. “Remember those irreconcilable differences I mentioned the day we had lunch?”

“I do.”

“My doing things like downloading music was one of them.”

“Huh?”

“I was told I was trying to act like I was twenty-five and it wasn't becoming.”

“That doesn't make much sense.”

“I agree,” she said firmly.

“As we used to say back in the day, I think you're very cool, Ms. Genevieve Gibbs. Don't change yourself for anybody. Okay?”

“I don't plan to.”

“Good. Let the haters hate.”

“Amen.”

They rode the rest of the way to Henry Adams listening to the music in a companionable silence. Gen found herself enjoying his company more and more.

He turned the car into the drive. Upon seeing Riley sitting on the top step, she groused, “Oh, good lord.”

“What's wrong?”

“That's Riley on the porch.”

“Who's Riley?”

“My ex-husband.”

“The pig guy?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward to check him out. “Day's a little cloudy for shades.”

“He's wearing them to hide the black eyes he got from Trent.”

TC looked confused.

“I'll explain later, or better yet, have Gary tell you about it.”

“Okay, but I take it you weren't expecting him?”

“No.”

“I thought you said he was in LA. Why's he here?”

“Obviously wants something. Always does.” She opened the door.

“You going to be okay talking to him?” he asked with concern. “Do I need to stick around?”

“I'll be fine, but thanks for the offer.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. You go on and do whatever you were planning to do.”

“I was planning on asking you to have lunch with me.”

Gen eyed him and wondered if she'd ever breathe again. “Really?”

Smiling softly, he offered a small shrug.

“I'd like that.” She forced herself to stop staring. “Can you wait while I take my tote inside?”

“For as long as it takes.”

Filled with wonder, she left the car.

“Who's that?” Riley had the nerve to demand. He peered past her, trying to see into the car.

“Why are you here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“Just wanted to see how you were.”

“I'm fine.” She walked by him to the door and took out her key.

“That the fella Clay says you're seeing?”

“That's none of your business or Clay's.”

“I'm only asking because I don't want you to be taken advantage of.”

“Something you know all about, right?” She wanted to sock him and send him flying off the porch.

“Look, Genevieve. I—”

“No, you look,” she said, cutting him off. “You stole thousands of dollars from me, and the only reason I couldn't put you in jail was because your name was on the account and the bank said I had no concrete proof you took it without my permission.”

“But Genevieve—”

“Don't say another word to me, Riley Curry. You stole from me. You chose that damn hog over me. You even married another woman while you were still married to me. Go 'way. I don't want you in my life.” That said, she went inside.

Marie was waiting. “What's he want?”

Gen was seething. “Probably money or a place to stay. I didn't ask.”

“Why's Morgan Freeman still out front?”

Gen was putting her tote in the closet and upon hearing that she stopped and turned back. “Morgan Freeman? Really, Marie? This is why I'm moving.”

Without another word, she slammed the closet door and sailed back outside.

Riley was still there. He opened his mouth but the glare she shot him made him rethink whatever he was planning to say and she stormed past.

Inside the car she was sure steam was curling out of her ears. “Can we go, please, before I punch something?”

“That mad, huh?”

“Madder. Riley's an idiot and so is Marie.”

“Who's Marie?”

“The woman I live with. We've been friends all our lives but she's lost her mind. She just called you Morgan Freeman.”

He chuckled. “
Driving Miss Daisy
?”

“Yes!”

“It's okay. I've been called worse. I didn't know you could get this angry.”

“The last time I did, I punched Riley so hard I knocked him out and broke a bone in my hand.”

He barked a laugh. “Really? Whoa.”

“At the Dog in front of everybody, including his so-called wife. Riley's a bigamist too, you know.”

“Wait. What?”

She nodded.

“Lots of drama going on for such a little town,” he said, studying her.

“You have no idea.”

“You still down for lunch?”

“Please, but do you mind if we get a takeout and go someplace quiet. I need to calm down.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

Gen called ahead so she didn't have to wait long for their order to arrive at the desk. Once it was paid for and the speculation on Mal's face ignored she returned to the car.

“So where to?” he asked.

“Let me make a call.” Once she did, she gave him directions.

W
hen they reached their destination, he took in the large old house surrounded by open land and asked, “Where are we?”

“The July homestead. Park here and we can walk down to the creek. There's a picnic table there.”

They left the car and covered the short distance across the open land to the creek. As they sat, he said, “Nice spot.”

“It is. Peaceful, too.”

“All this wide open space takes some getting used to for a city boy.”

She removed his sandwich and her salad from the bag. “Are you enjoying being here, though?”

“I am. Definitely different. Never lived any place so quiet.”

“It grows on you.”

They ate in silence for a while and she again thought about how much she liked his company. She wondered how he felt about being with her but was too shy to ask. “How long do you plan to stay with Gary and the girls?”

He took a sip from his bottled water. “For sure until summer. After that, I don't know. I'm supposed to go to Hawaii in August for my daughter's birthday. She manages a resort on Kauai.”

“Sounds nice. Hawaii is on my bucket list.”

“Beautiful place. She was stationed in Hawaii during her time in the Air Force and decided to stay. Real proud of her.”

The pride on his face was plain. “And your sons?”

“Proud of them, too. My oldest, Keith, and his wife live in Atlanta. They're both big-time stockbrokers. Other son, Aaron, is a petroleum engineer in Alaska.”

She looked up from her salad. “Alaska?”

“Yes. He's lived there almost five years now.”

“Have you visited?”

“I have. A couple of times. Like Hawaii it has its own kind of beauty.”

“Never been there, either.” She mused on what it might be like to see those places with him and caught herself. When she looked up his eyes were waiting.

He asked quietly, “Where have you traveled besides DC?”

“Just Vegas. It's one of Marie's and my favorite places. She hits the casinos and I hit the shows, the Grand Canyon, and Hoover Dam.”

“I've never seen either of those.”

“The Grand Canyon is truly God's work. It's breathtaking. I've been there four, maybe five times and I always see something new. Feel free to tag along next time I go.”

“I may have to hold you to that.”

His tone and easy gaze had her at such sixes and sevens, as her grandmother used to say, she changed the subject. “So, do you have grandchildren?”

He shook his head. “No. Still waiting on the kids to cooperate.”

She nodded understandingly.

“Keith and his wife are trying, but they're so busy chasing stocks and bonds. I keep telling them if they actually took a vacation they'd probably have babies by now.”

“Careers mean a lot to the younger set these days.”

“I know. Aaron and Bethany are content with the single life, but I worry about them never finding the love their mother and I shared.”

“You're a romantic.”

“Not ashamed to admit that I am. Spoiled Carla rotten.”

“Sounds like you had a good marriage.”

“We did. I've gone on with my life but still miss her.”

“That's sweet.”

“Are you a romantic?”

She shrugged. “I suppose, but hard to be that when you're in competition with a hog.”

He chuckled. “I still find that unbelievable.”

“Think how I felt. And Clay wanted what he thought was the ideal me. He doesn't appreciate the woman I'm trying to be.”

“His loss.”

“In a way mine, too. At my age I'll probably never get to experience what you and your Carla had.”

The empathy in his eyes moved her so intensely she looked away and went back to her salad.

As if to change the subject he looked out over the creek and asked, “Do people come out here often?”

“Yes, and Tamar doesn't mind as long as you call first. It is private property, after all.”

“I see. Being out here with all this peace and quiet makes a man want to buy some land of his own.”

She nodded. “I have land, too, but it's a much smaller plot. The Julys have been on this homestead since the 1880s.”

“Gary told me about the history here.”

“It's an honor to live in a place where the race has walked free for over a hundred years. I can't wait for my new mobile home to arrive so I can have a place of my own again.”

“When's it coming?”

“Hopefully in the next couple of days.”

“Do you need help moving?”

“I don't think so but if I do I'll let you know.”

“Please.”

“Okay, I will.” Gen had trouble holding his gaze because of the connection she sensed growing between them. She wasn't sure what to do about it and lord knew she didn't want to be staring all cow-eyed at the man.

“I like being in your company, Ms. Genevieve Gibbs.”

She somehow managed to reply, “And I enjoy being in yours, Mr. Barbour.”

“Be nice if we could do this again.”

“I'd like that.”

“Have you found us a concert yet?”

She lowered her head to hide her smile. “No. Not yet.”

“You are looking, right?”

“I am.”

“Good.” The silence between them stretched until he finally glanced at his watch. “Are you ready for me to take you home?”

In truth, the answer was no, but she said instead, “Yes. Hopefully Riley's gone by now.”

“Where's he staying?”

“With Clay.”

“Ex-husband staying with ex-beau?”

“I know. We all grew up together. I was sweet on Clay in high school and he was sweet on me but I married Riley. It's complicated. Nothing worked out for any of us, though.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“At least I came to my senses and cut bait. Otherwise I'd still be in a bad marriage with a hog as a third wheel.”

They gathered up their trash and placed it in the large waste can by the table's edge. “Thanks for the company,” she said.

“You're welcome.”

For a moment they just gazed at each other. Gen felt the connection tightening but had no idea if it was her imagination.

“Shall we?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and they walked back to the car.

When he stopped in front of Marie's, Gen was pleased to find the porch empty. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. You'll let me know if you need help moving.”

“I will.” Wishing she had a legitimate reason to spend more time with him, she got out. “Have a nice rest of the day.”

“You, too.”

Up on the porch she stuck her key in the lock and gave him a wave. As she stepped inside she watched him drive away and wondered where their relationship might lead.

The house was quiet. She'd expected to find Marie in front of the TV but she wasn't. When Gen called for her and got no response, she grew concerned. Knowing Marie usually parked around back, she walked into the kitchen in order to see if the
car was there, but found a note attached to the back door.
Back later. M.
Since Marie rarely left the house these days, Gen was surprised. The note dampened her concern somewhat, but she still wondered where Marie might be. Figuring the question would be answered soon enough, she went upstairs to her room to begin packing for the move.

Sitting in her car in the church parking lot, Marie regretted making the Morgan Freeman crack, mostly because of Gen's withering response. It was the same tone Gen used with Riley and Marie realized she had slipped so low in Genevieve's opinion that she and Riley were seated at the same table. It got her attention. No way did she want to be thought of in those terms. Riley was both despised and pitied. Granted, his sins against Genevieve were far more serious, but in a way they weren't because Gen trusted Marie as a friend, and in exchange, received a snide jealousy-fed comment about someone Gen might genuinely be interested in. Everyone knew that Riley had no plans to change and was content to be himself for the rest of his life. However, Marie wasn't—not with her life, her acerbic attitude, or the hole she found herself in. So she got out and walked to the doors.

Inside, she found Reverend Paula seated at the desk in her office.

“Marie,” she said, looking and sounding surprised. “Hello.”

“Hi, Paula. Do you have some time? I'd like to talk to you.”

“Yes, I do. Take off your coat and have a seat. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“Tea would be nice.”

“Okay. I'll be right back.”

While she went to get the tea, Marie drew in a calming
breath and wondered if this was the right choice. She'd never shared her problems before because she'd always convinced herself that there was nothing in life she couldn't handle on her own. With her life spiraling out of control, that confidence had fled, and if anyone could put things in perspective without judging it would be Paula. Marie also trusted her not to run to the Dog and tell everyone in town her business. She'd been bitter and alone long enough. She needed someone to light the way back.

Paula returned with a tray holding a steaming mug, a spoon, and a few packets of sweetener. She set it on the table nestled against the sofa where Marie was seated and while Marie doctored the brew to her liking Paula settled into a nearby chair and waited silently.

Marie began. “I'm sure you've heard about the mess at the Dog last winter.”

“I have, but I wasn't there so for me it's all hearsay. Why don't you tell me what happened.”

So Marie did, and didn't spare herself in the telling.

Paula asked gently, “So what made you so angry at Rita Lynn?”

“Mal wasn't supposed to know that I loved him. I'd planned on keeping that to myself for the rest of my life but when Rita told him how I felt, I just lost it. I was embarrassed, hurt. I felt betrayed.”

“Understandable.”

“I wanted to crawl into a hole.”

“And so you did.”

She hadn't expected Paula to view it that way, too. “Yes.”

“And now?”

“Now I want out. Genevieve is so upset she's moving. A
few weeks ago Mal came by to see me and I wouldn't answer the door. I'm a mess, Paula.”

“You're not a mess. You're just hurting and I get the sense that it goes deeper than Rita Lynn. I never met your mother, so tell me a little bit about her. Did you two get along?”

“I loved her. She barely tolerated me.”

“Explain that, please.”

Marie shared the painful story of getting pregnant in college by a man who refused to marry her. “I came back to Henry Adams pregnant and ashamed. My mother thought it best to put the child up for adoption. The nuns whisked him away as soon as I gave birth.” Her voice trailed to a whisper. “I never even got to hold him.” Her heart tightened painfully at the still raw memory.

“I'm so sorry.”

“And from then on I couldn't do anything right in her eyes. She didn't like the car I drove, the men I dated, taking Gen to Vegas when she asked me to.”

“And your father?”

Marie chuckled bitterly. “I grew up believing he'd died in the Korean War because that's what she told me, but on her deathbed, she confessed that I was born out of wedlock, too.”

Paula looked shocked.

“My mother was no better than I was when it came right down to it. She berated me and put me down my whole life for committing the same mistake she'd made. I was furious at her when I learned the truth.”

“Have you reconnected with your son?”

“Another funny story,” Marie said sarcastically. “He called me a couple of years back. Said he was in town and wanted to
meet me. Lily drove me over. I just knew he wanted to be in my life but no, all he wanted was medical information.”

“That had to be heartbreaking.”

“It was and I felt stupid and hurt and broken inside for being so hopeful. My life seems to be one low blow after another.”

“But your teaching brought you joy, no?”

“It did. My students were all the children I never got to hold. I loved them all.”

And she had. She never felt so alive as when in the classroom. That made her think of Trent. He'd been one of her best students and because of the altercation with his mother, Rita Lynn, their relationship was strained, a strain that also affected Marie's relationship with her goddaughter, Lily. No woman should have to choose between husband and godmother, so to keep from negatively impacting their marriage, Marie had distanced herself from Lily as well.

“Your friends miss you, Marie.”

Marie's lip trembled. She told herself she'd pluck out her eyes before letting the tears fall but fall they did. “How do I fix this, Paula? How do I look at Mal and not feel like a fool. How do I apologize to Trent for being so screwed up that when he and his mother came to see me I slammed the door in his face? And poor Genevieve. We've been sisters of the heart since we were eight. She can't stand me right now. I have burned so many bridges.” Marie wept brokenly. Terribly. Paula got up and held her close.

“It's okay,” Paula whispered.

“No it isn't. How am I ever going to face them again?”

“I don't think it'll be as hard as you imagine. They all love
you.” Paula handed her some tissues and waited while she tried to pull herself together. “You're one of the heartbeats of this community. Everyone knows you're hurting and they all feel powerless to help. As for Mal, please don't beat yourself up over him knowing the truth. Loving someone even if it isn't returned isn't something to be ashamed of.”

Marie wanted to believe her, especially the part about reconnecting, but how could Paula be so sure?

As if having read her mind, Paula said, “And you know why I know it won't be hard?”