"One and the same," he answered, shutting her door. As he slipped into his seat and gunned Sweet Pea's sleepy engine, he glanced at Hazel's address again and said, "But I'm not wasting my appetite on salad. I'm having chicken potpie followed by a slice of chocolate truffle cake. Hey?" he wondered aloud. "Maybe Hazel would like to join us!"
Cooper sighed. Somehow she couldn't see events leading to the three of them sitting down to a jolly meal together. As Nathan wound through the maze of downtown streets and headed east toward Church Hill, she absently rubbed the butterfly pin, which was attached to the thin white sweater she wore over the sundress, and prayed that they wouldn't discover anything horrible at Hazel Wharton's house.
Fifteen minutes later, Nathan pulled up in front of a dilapidated row house standing at the end of a long line of homes in a similar state of disrepair. Sagging porches, peeling paint, and cracked cement had robbed the once-charming houses of their former dignity. Cars with no tires or utterly rusted bodies had come to their decisive ends on either side of the street and tiny lawns overrun by weeds formed most of the greenery in the neighborhood. Despite the somewhat bleak environment, children of all skin tones played in the street or sat on decrepit front steps as they chatted with one another.
Nathan told Cooper to stay in the car, but she joined him as he knocked on Hazel's front door. As they waited, Cooper glanced at the two plastic chairs on the porch and at the dead fern on the simple wood table positioned precisely between the chairs. Cooper spied a metal watering can below one of the dirt-streaked front windows. In spite of all the visible signs of poverty around her, the brown and wilted leaves of the fern effected her the most, because the plant indicated that for some reason, its owner had stopped caring for it and had allowed it to die.
"I don't think she's here anymore," Cooper whispered.
Nathan rubbed a clean circle in the glass of the front window and peered inside. Next, he took his sunglasses from his pocket and opened the mail slot. Angling his mirrored lenses into the slot, he shook his head.
"Then where's her mail?" he asked Cooper without looking away from the house's shadowy interior. "If she's not collecting it, then it would be piled all over the floor." He stood and brushed off his pants. "I'm going to check around back and then ask the next-door neighbor if Hazel's been around lately. Do you want to wait here?"
Cooper cast a final glance at the fern. "No."
The backyard yielded no further information. The little lot was enclosed by a rusty, chain-link fence whose main purpose seemed to act as a divider between the tall grass and scraggly bushes in Hazel's lot and the identical grass and shrubs growing next door. Cooper spied more potted plants on Hazel's back stoop and examined them. Two geraniums, a marigold, and a tomato plant had succumbed to thirst. Cooper plunged her finger into the soil and absently rubbed the dry dirt between her fingertips. She noted a bottle of plant food on a junk-cluttered table by the back door.
"Hazel cared for these plants," she said, fingering the crackly, brown-spotted leaves of the geranium. "The only reason she'd suddenly stop watering them ..."
Nathan stood on his tiptoes and stared into the small window of the back door. "It's the kitchen. No dishes in the sink. The dish towel's folded on the counter. Two placemats on the table. Salt and pepper shakers. Napkin holder, half full." He stepped away from the window. "Someone lives here all right, but where is she?"
Cooper had to trot to keep up with Nathan's determined stride as he walked to the house to the right of Hazel's. Hazel's squat, cream-colored house was at the end of the row and the house adjoining hers was slightly larger and noticeably cleaner. The porch was free of dirt and dust and a new rubber welcome mat sat askew in front of the door. Cooper noted that the doorbell glowed, indicating that, unlike Hazel's, it was operational. An old wicker sofa was the only piece of furniture on the porch and the fabric showed faded sunflowers on a field of lusterless blue.
Nathan pressed the doorbell and several seconds later, a hand pulled back the curtains covering the bay window and a pale and wrinkled face appeared. Through the glass, a short, elderly woman holding a crying infant shouted, "We're not buyin'!" and released the curtain again. Without hesitation, Nathan knocked on the window and the woman's face reappeared, frowning.
"We're looking for Hazel Wharton," Nathan called to her.
The woman's frown morphed into a glower. "Why? You ain't no friends of hers."
"No, ma'am, but we've come in the name of friendship," Nathan said hurriedly, his voice pleading. "We're worried that she might be in danger, ma'am. Please. All I ask is five minutes of your time."
The curtain fell back in place and Nathan's shoulders sagged in defeat. But suddenly, locks clicked on the front door and the woman motioned for Nathan and Cooper to step inside the house. Looking up and down the street with more curiosity than alarm, the woman shifted the still-wailing infant to her other arm and closed the door.
"I can tell about folks," she informed Nathan over the baby's complaints. "You two ain't up to no devilment. Here." She pushed the child, who was clad only in a diaper, into Cooper's arms. "I gotta get this chile some milk 'fore she kills me with all that carryin' on."
The woman disappeared from the room and Cooper stared at the baby in astonishment. She whispered, "Shush," and tried to make comforting rocking motions, but her awkward attempts to silence the child were ineffectual. In fact, the tiny girl's face grew crimson with rage and she redoubled the force of her howls.
"Got none of your own, I reckon," the old woman said upon her return, amused by Cooper's discomfort. "I watch this one for my daughter. My name's Rose. Now, sit on down and tell me why you're frettin' about ole Hazel." She sat and pushed a bottle into the baby's mouth. Mercifully, the crying ceased.
Nathan eased himself onto a side chair covered in plastic sheeting. It made a squeaking noise as his body weight forced creases into the stiff material. "She complained to her credit card company about something being wrong with her bill, ma'am," Nathan replied simply. "And now some folks from that same company have been hurt. Hazel's name has been connected to these people and we're worried about her safety."
Rose nodded, satisfied with Nathan's explanation. "You tellin' the truth all right. I always knows." She angled the bottle slightly higher and the infant sucked hungrily. "Look here. Hazel's just fine. It's her sister who ain't. Got a bad heart and had surgery. Hazel's gone off to Danville to lend a hand." Rose eyed her visitors over the baby's head. "You're not the first to look for her, you hear? Cops pokin' around yesterday. Same as you all. They knocked, waited a bit, then left." She shrugged. "I didn't pay
them
no mind."
"There were others looking for Hazel?" Nathan squeezed the arms of the chair as he abruptly sat forward and the plastic whined in protest.
"Them first folks was bad." Rose gazed tenderly at the baby in her arms. "It was dark, so I didn't see them good. Two of them knocking on Hazel's door. Next they went round back and I didn't see 'em again for a while. When they headed back to their big black car, they were hissing at each other. 'Minded me of a pair of snakes."
Cooper stared at the child, who had reached up to touch her grandmother's face. "Do you know if these 'visitors' were men or women?" she asked Rose.
"Naw. They both walked like folks who are up to no good. Kind of slinkin'. Like they was more serpent than regular folk." She stared at Cooper, studying the blue eye first and then, for a bit longer, the green one. The baby finished drinking and drifted quickly to sleep. Cooper swallowed beneath Rose's scrutiny. Finally, the old woman pointed at a brass cross hanging on the wall behind her. "The Lord gave you two ways of seein', girl," she said to Cooper. "They way things is and the way they could be. I hope you don't waste His gifts."
As Cooper tried to fathom the meaning of Rose's odd comment, the older woman shifted the baby to her shoulder and began to pat her firmly on the back. "Them folks came at night--they meant Hazel harm, I just knows it. But Hazel was two days gone already. She left the day after Easter. Hasn't been back since."
"Are you collecting her mail?" Nathan inquired.
Rose nodded. "Got it all in a grocery bag. Them bills'll wait. I think Hazel's gonna move down to Danville anyhow. Her sister's got a nice place and Hazel ain't got anyone left here since her man died a year back."
Nathan drew a business card from his wallet. "Ma'am, could you give this to Hazel when she comes back? Will you tell her to call me and warn her that she's in danger?"
"G'faw," Rose snorted. "Look around, boy. There's plenty of danger in this place 'sides those folks came lookin' for her." She stared at Cooper again and then, after several moments in which Cooper's neck turned bright red, Rose smiled. "Yessir. I'll tell her. Shoot, she can even stay with me if she wants. Lord knows I could use some help with this chile. Some company too."
Cooper tried to imagine what it was like for Rose to raise an infant at her age and with so few resources. "Do you like cookies?" she asked Rose.
Rose displayed a nearly toothless grin. "Sure enough. Where you think all my teeth got to?"
"My mama makes really good ones. I'll bring you some."
"Bless you, chile. I sure would like me a treat." Rose reached over and clasped Nathan's hand. "You a good man. You try to make wrong things right. I can see that. I'll watch out for ole Hazel." She stood. "Now, you'd best get goin.' Your car ain't new, but plenty of folks round here would like to help themselves to those rims and maybe your radio too."
Nathan's face was mournful as he squeezed Rose's hand. She cupped his cheek in her weathered palm. "Aw, they's plenty of good folks here as well, boy. Don't you look so down. One day, I'm gonna take my place at the mighty feast with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. Till that glorious moment, my girls and my faith keep me goin'."
Back in the car, Cooper rubbed her butterfly pin for comfort. "Remember the day in Bible study when Bryant was talking about heaven? He was wondering if angels were already living all around us?"
Nathan looked over at her. "Yeah, I remember. And I think he's onto something." He smiled and sighed happily. "I'm so glad we came here. Hazel's okay and now the cops can locate her and talk to her. We can finally step aside and feel like the dark clouds are beginning to part." His smile turned shy. "Um, thanks for standing alongside me today."
"Anytime," Cooper replied sincerely, wondering if all their future dates would be this exciting.
15
"Can anyone hide in secret places
so that I cannot see him?"
declares the LORD.
"Do not I fill heaven and earth?"
declares the LORD.
Jeremiah 23:24 (NIV)
Cooper stood in front of her open closet, comparing the charming hue and feminine cut of the sundress she had worn on her date with Nathan with the rest of her rather tomboyish wardrobe. The Weather Channel hinted at a warm day, with temperatures rising into the nineties, despite the fact that the official start of summer was still weeks away. Cooper wanted to look especially pretty today, for Nathan to look at her the way he had last night on his front porch, when he put his arms around her and kissed her.
It wasn't a long kiss because Nathan's neighbors had returned home from an evening out and their energetic pooch had sprung from their car and headed straight for Nathan. Still, it was enough of a physical connection to make Cooper's legs feel boneless. She had leaned into his embrace, caught up in his scent of Irish Spring soap and a hint of earthy aftershave, while her mind emptied of all thoughts but the softness of his lips.
"I like you, Cooper Lee," Nathan had whispered. Instead of replying, Cooper had pressed her head against his chest and listened to the steady drumming of his heart, feeling as though she could linger there for the rest of the night.
As the neighbors pretended not to watch, the couple had said good night and then Cooper had driven home. She was too restless to sleep, so she meandered around the backyard, stroking the three-legged dog and sniffing her mother's herbs, smiling ridiculously at the green tomatoes on the vine, and spinning around in a patch of moonlit grass like a little girl trying out a new party dress.
Cooper was not a woman whose closet was stuffed with frilly dresses, patent leather shoes, or fun jewelry. She and Drew had always opted for comfort over fashion. Therefore, Cooper's clothes mostly included jeans and plain T-shirts, and these would fail to coordinate with the flush of happiness on her cheeks or the twinkle infusing both her flat blue eye and the dazzling green one.
At least her butterfly pin glinted gaily on her blue blouse. She had washed and polished her treasure before attaching it above her left collarbone. Ever since Grammy had bestowed the pin upon her, Cooper had worn it every day, even to work. The one day she forgot to put it on she kept reaching toward her left shoulder to touch it, only to meet with the fabric of her uniform shirt. She felt as though something were missing and wondered if the sensation was similar to what married people felt when they left the house without wearing a wedding ring.
Cooper looked down at her bare left hand and tried to dismiss the unbidden vision of Drew wearing a gold band on his ring finger. Instead, she ruminated on how Ashley often paused to twist her gigantic diamond ring so that the stone caught the light. A little smile played at the corners of Ashley's mouth when she admired her own ring and Cooper was always curious as to the thoughts swimming around in her sister's mind when she smiled like that.
