The Truth According to Us (48 page)

Footsteps hammered up the stairs to the back door. “You beat me!” called Emmett, looming dark against the screen. “Cacapon Road melted yesterday, and I had to drive around to State 9.” He yanked open the door. “But now I'm here, I'll—” He broke off at the sight of Sol and, after a moment's hesitation, stepped inside, his eyes moving from face to face. “Well,” he said at last. He backed toward the sink and stood against it warily. “This is unusual.”

There was a short silence. Then Sol cleared his throat and said, “Jottie and I are announcing our engagement.”

Jottie opened her mouth and closed it again as Emmett looked at her in mute astonishment. “Congratulations,” he said finally.

Felix smiled brilliantly at his brother. “And Layla and I are announcing
our
engagement.”

Layla's head jerked up.

Quickly, Felix stepped to her side and put his arm around her waist.
“It's quite a coincidence, isn't it? Isn't it, Jottie?” She nodded, her lips tight. “While you and Sol were billing and cooing over there in Charles Town, Layla and I were doing the same thing right here in the comfort of home. Rapturous, wasn't it, Layla?”

She looked at him in confusion and nodded.

“Oh my God, you poor kid,” Sol breathed.

“Shut up,” Felix snapped, without taking his eyes from Jottie. “Let's us have a double wedding, Jottie, what do you say? Remember Minerva and Mae? That was real nice, I thought. We can go down the aisle together, kind of a last hurrah. And then we'll say good-bye. Good-bye and good luck. Shake hands. You can give the girls a kiss. You might see them downtown sometimes. Except I'm thinking of moving, to Chicago, maybe, the city of broad shoulders. Don't worry, though, because Layla here, she'll be a fine stepmother.” He threw an appraising glance at Layla. “Well, she probably won't eat them or anything.” He laughed.

“Felix, don't,” Jottie said.

“What?” His arm tightened around Layla's waist. “You don't think she'll be a good stepmother? You doubt her? Won't you be a good stepmother, honey?”

She tried to smile. “I'll do my best.”

Emmett made a sharp, frustrated movement against the counter.

Felix rounded on him. “What? You should find yourself a girlfriend, Emmett. I think you'd be happier.”

“Felix,” said Jottie, her voice rising, “you have to stop. We all know you're angry, but it's not right, what you're doing. It's not fair to Layla.”

“Layla?” Felix gestured to her. “She's happy. This is everything she's ever wanted. She was just saying that. Weren't you, Layla?”

“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “Of course, and I don't know what you're talking about, Jottie. It's no wonder that Felix is a little upset, with you getting yourself engaged to, well, a man who practically ruined his life with lies and slander.” She glanced haughtily at Sol. “I don't know how you can do it. None of my business, of course, but I don't know how you can.”

Felix's smile was radiant. “You hear that, Jottie? She doesn't know how you can. And neither do I.” His smile disappeared. “Neither do I.”

Layla put her hand on his and squeezed it comfortingly. “No one believes it, Felix. Everyone knows it was a lie. I mean,” she looked around the room earnestly, “of course it was sad that that boy died, but obviously,
obviously
, you”—she pursed her lips at Sol—“were in some kind of, of—I don't know—delusion is the kindest word for it. I can't understand why anyone ever took you seriously. Six weeks after it happened. Ridiculous,” she said contemptuously.

“He did it,” said Sol. “No delusion. It was him. I know you were behind it somehow, Felix.”

“You're crazy. I wasn't even there.”

“Oh,
don't
,
”
moaned Jottie. “Please. Can't we just—”

“No,” snapped Sol, his eyes on Felix. “I don't know why or how, but I know you started it. I know you planned it; I know you lied. Because that's what you do.”

“I wasn't there
. It was Vause.”

Sol's mouth curled. “Yeah, you'd say that. You never gave a damn about anybody as long as you got what you wanted. Anything you wanted, you took like it was yours. Hell, I saw you break into Everlasting a dozen times at least—along with half the other buildings in town. And you always got away with it.”

“That's what gets under your skin, isn't it, Sol? That I did what I wanted and I never got punished. You always hoped I'd get in trouble—you were dying for someone to bring me down, and finally you decided to do it yourself. You always hated me.”

Sol shook his head. “No, I didn't, and you know it. From the time we were kids, I wanted to be just like you. So smart and brave—the things you'd do. And then later, when all the girls were so crazy about you—I always wanted to be like you. Like you and Vause. I was so proud that I was your-all's friend, almost one of you. But not quite. Not really.”

Felix sneered. “We felt sorry for you, that's why we let you tag along.
God, there you'd be, tagging along and fussing at us, telling us not to do this or that because we'd get hurt. Yellow is what you were. You were always yellow.”

Sol nodded. “I know. But I didn't hate you.”

Felix said scornfully, “You were jealous.”

“Yeah, I was, but mostly I just wanted to come along with you.”

“You were jealous, so you lied about me.”

“No.” Sol shook his head. “I wasn't even thinking about you, really. It was Vause I was thinking about. The Vause I knew, he wouldn't have done it, not on his own. He wouldn't have stolen money and he wouldn't have set that mill on fire. He would have followed you there, I can see him doing that, but not without you making him.”

“I didn't make him!” Felix snapped. “I didn't have anything to do with it. He did it himself!”

“No. Not Vause.”

“He did,” Felix insisted. “He knew how to open the safe, and he went there and stole six thousand dollars and then set the place on fire.”

Sol shook his head. “It's not something Vause would have done.” He appealed to Jottie. “Would he?”

She lifted her eyes to his. “I never—I didn't think so.”

Sol was almost talking to himself now. “It couldn't have been him. Vause wasn't like that. He was so…clear, you know?”

She nodded. “And he didn't lie much. Hardly ever. Only to get Felix or me out of trouble.” She turned to include her brother. “Remember?”

For a moment, he simply looked at her. Then he drew in his breath and began speaking softly. “That's what you want to believe, Jottie, but you know it's not true. You know the truth, honey. Come on,” he prodded. “You know what he was doing. He was stealing that money because he had to get out of town. He'd gotten himself in too deep with you and he wanted to break it off. It'd started out as a joke—”

“Jesus, Felix!” exclaimed Emmett. “That's not—”

“Hushup, Emmett,” said Felix. “You don't know anything. It had been a joke, you know, just a little fun before he moved along, but then
he saw you were taking it hard.” His words fell slow and gentle: “And you made it worse when you started talking about getting married—”

“No! It wasn't me,” she cried. “Vause said it first!”

“Honey”—Felix shook his head—“I was
there
. It was you. Vause didn't want to hurt your feelings, but he didn't want to get married, either.” He smiled. “He sure wasn't ready to settle down, I'll tell you—he had a couple other girls he was going with—”

“No,” she protested, her hands rising to fend off his words. “That's not what—you never told me that.”

“I never wanted to, but—” Felix shrugged, helpless. “Seems like today's the day. Honey, he lied. He wasn't in love with you. He told me. He was kind of worried about me being mad, but I couldn't blame him much.” His voice was warm and mesmerizing. “I mean, think about it; you know this, Jottie. Vause had been around, and you were just a small-town girl. That's why he had to have that money. He had to get out of here before he got stuck with you—”

I stood up suddenly, like a rope had yanked me.

Father was speaking. “You made it worse when you started talking about getting married—”

And then I heard Jottie's voice. I couldn't see her, not from where I was, but her voice was awful. “No! It wasn't me. Vause said it first!”

I was so scared. I was so scared to hear her like that. Oh, Jottie—I put my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. Father was talking and my heart was pounding in my ears, telling me to get to her, pounding so loud I couldn't hear all the words he said, but I heard some. I heard him say, “He had a couple other girls he was going with.”

No, he hadn't. Vause Hamilton had carried Jottie's picture next to his heart, and Father knew it. He was lying; I could hear it the way you hear a tune and you know what the next note is; you know how it goes. I wondered how many times I'd heard him lie, to know so well what it sounded like.

Jottie whispered, “No.” I dug my fingernails into my arm to take some of her hurt away. Father was breaking Jottie, and if she broke, I would split into pieces, too.

“He wasn't in love with you,” Father went on, low and crooning.
“He told me. He was kind of worried about me being mad, but I couldn't blame him much. I mean, think about it; you know this, Jottie. Vause had been around, and you were just a small-town girl. That's why he had to have that money. He had to get out of here before he got stuck with you. Let's face it, honey, you were never Vause's type—”

Jottie cried then, like she'd been hit, and I couldn't bear it. I suppose I made a choice between the two of them in that moment. I think I knew even then that I was making a choice, but in a way I was choosing myself, because if I had waited one more second, I would have stopped being who I was.

I banged open the door and flew into the kitchen. I'd been in the dark so long I was mostly blind, but I got to Jottie all right, and I was babbling as my arms slid around her, “He loved you, Jottie. He loved you, don't you cry, Jottie, don't, 'cause he loved you, I know he did. I found his coat, it's down in Mr. Russell's basement, in one of Father's cases, and he carried your picture right there next to his heart”—I squeezed her as hard as I could to make her hear me—“and it's a beautiful picture of you, too, and he carried it because he loved you and he wanted you right there, next to him. I wanted it so bad, but I knew not to take it out of the coat, 'cause I could see it was precious. He loved you and so do I, I love you, too, don't feel bad, Jottie. Father's lying, I can tell.” Her arms came around me, but she was still shaking, and I said desperately, “Listen, Jottie, he loved you. I know he did, and Father knows it, too.”

She held on to me tight. Then, in the distance, I heard Mr. McKubin say, “It's
where
?”

“Mr. Russell's basement,” I said, wanting Jottie to stop shaking.

Some time passed, and then Mr. McKubin said,
“Vause's
coat is in Mr. Russell's basement? Tare Russell's?”

I lifted my head so he could hear me and stop asking questions. “Yes.”

“And you said it was inside something?” he pushed.

“Willa.” It was Father. I turned around and saw he wasn't looking at
me. He was looking at Mr. McKubin, with a big smile on his face. “She doesn't know what she's talking about. She found something. Could be anybody's. Willa's got an imagination.” He shook his head and chuckled.

He was trying to make me look like a baby, a fool. He was casting me aside, without even thinking twice about it. After everything I'd done, after I'd tried to save him from Miss Beck, after I'd kept his secrets all summer, after what I'd been through the night before. I came near to hating him then. “It's not anybody's,” I snapped. “It's Vause Hamilton's coat, because inside another pocket there's a note from you. It says, ‘V, Talked him down to two hundred dollars, but it'll need a new tire, so two-fifty. F.' It's your handwriting—you're F, so V is Vause Hamilton.”

Emmett whispered, “Oh God.”

Inside my arms, Jottie went still. “Wait.”

I drew back a little to stroke her cheek. There were tears on it. “He loved you, Jottie,” I told her again. I needed her to know it.

“Willa,
where
is this coat?” she asked.

More questions. “It's in a case of Father's,” I said. “You know, those black cases he has, F. H. R. It's in one of those, in Tare Russell's basement.”

“What the hell were you doing in Tare Russell's basement?” asked Father.

Even though I was mad, even though I almost hated him, I didn't betray him. I didn't say a word about bootlegging. “I was just there. Playing.”

“What? You go creeping around in Tare's house without him knowing? That's trespassing!” he said, sharp.

“Chip off the old block,” said Mr. McKubin.

“Shut up,” said Father. He moved near me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Willa, we'll deal with you later. You get on upstairs and we'll—”

“No.” It was Jottie. Her eyes were fixed on mine. “Tell me what else was in the case. With Vau—the coat.” She stuttered like she didn't dare say his name.

I didn't mean to tell, but Jottie's eyes were in mine, and I couldn't look away and I couldn't lie. “Money,” I said.

“How much?” she asked.

“Not much,” I said. She put her hand on my cheek. “A lot.”

“What else?” she prodded.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just the envelopes.”

Her hand against my cheek. “Envelopes?”

“Those big brown envelopes from the mill. You know. They say American Everlasting across the top, but these ones are old, because it says September Something, 1920, down below. The money's inside them.”

“September 1920?” Mr. McKubin said, like he didn't believe it.

“Yeah.” I tried to see the date in my mind, but I couldn't. I didn't know why it mattered, anyway. I turned back to Jottie. “But the picture,” I explained, “it was right next to his heart, a picture of you.”

Then Mr. McKubin said, “We've got you now, you bastard.”

I spun around, and when I saw Father's face, I almost stopped breathing.

The silence stretched out. Only the clock in the hall seemed to be living.

“Vause was running out on me, that's what you said.”

Felix hesitated, then nodded.

“But he wasn't.”

He shook his head.

“He wasn't,” she insisted.

He shook his head.

“You lied.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Did he”—Jottie took a breath—“did he love me?”

He nodded.

She bowed her head.

“Well, well, look who was right all along!” Sol said, bringing his hands together. “What are we going to do?” He glanced around the kitchen. “We have to do something.”

“Shut up, Sol,” said Emmett.

“But we—”

As though she hadn't heard him, Jottie continued, “You were after the money—because we still needed two hundred dollars for the car. So you decided to steal it from Daddy, and then you decided to take it all, not just the two hundred but everything, because two hundred wasn't enough to hurt him.” Her voice slowed as it came to her. “And then you decided to set the mill on fire because you hated it so, and you wanted to see it burn. And Vause, you made Vause come along—” She broke off, eyes widening. “He didn't know anything about it, did he?”

Felix looked at the floor. “He knew about the two hundred,” he said hoarsely. “I said it was an advance on my paycheck.”

She waited a moment. “This is the truth?”

“Yes.”

“He didn't even know,” she murmured to herself. “Give me a kiss for luck, but he didn't even know—oh God.” She put her hand over her eyes.

Felix took an uncertain step toward her.

She drew her hand away from her face. “The things he said to me? Felix?”

An almost imperceptible nod.

“Felix?”

“He meant them.”

She stood before him in silence, her eyes digging deeper and deeper into his, reaching far down into the past. Finally she said, “This time, you pay.”

“Jottie—” he began.

She cut him off, implacable. “No. No. There's no way out of this. You were willing to do
that
to Vause? To me? All these years? You let me live like this, thinking Vause had thrown me away? It almost killed me,
Felix.” He flinched as she went toward him. “It almost
killed
me.” She wrapped her fingers into the cloth of his shirt and scanned his face. “Didn't you care?”

He drew in a shallow breath. “ 'Course I did, Jottie, but I had to—”

“No!”
She pounded against him with her fistful of shirt. “No! You could have told the truth!” Harder and harder, she hit him, again and again and again.

“Jottie.” His hands came around hers gently, and she stopped hitting him and dropped her head against his shoulder. “Jottie,” he murmured. When she said nothing, he went on, speaking quietly, “This is bad. It's real bad, but it's not like when he died. That was the worst thing, and we made it through together. We can do this, too, I know we can, if we stick together. Huh?” She shook her head. “No? Okay, but listen.” He bent his head close to hers. “I know it's bad. But you remember how it was, don't you? We only had each other. No one else understood. No one else even cared. And this is the same. You know it is. Everything that ever happened, we went through it together, didn't we?” He pressed her hands. “Didn't we?”

She said nothing.

“We can't stop now,” he concluded. “We've got to stick together.”

She drew away from him, her face empty. “No.”

“Okay.” He nodded, licking his lips. “Okay. I know you're mad, and I don't blame you, not for a minute, but you don't want to rush off and marry Sol. You don't want to do a crazy thing like that.” He bent to look in her face and continued, “Sol's not what you want.” He shook his head. “You think you want everything nice and pretty and normal, but you don't. All that's gone and done, and it's not worth having. It's not worth a nickel, Jottie.”