Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes (14 page)

When I voiced my thoughts to Violet, she snorted. “Please. Momma got everythin’ she deserved and not enough if you ask me. Her will is livin’ proof of that.”

“But Aunt Bessie said that we didn’t know everythin’. She said Daddy did somethin’ that nearly broke Momma.”

Violet stopped folding the pants in her hands. “Daddy never hurt a soul. How could his own sister say that?”

I shrugged. “I pretty much told her the same thing, but Aunt Bessie said I’d want answers some day and she would tell me what she knew. She said Momma had a reason for being the way she was.”

Violet scowled. “I cannot believe you are defendin’ her, especially after what she did to you.” She took the pants and spiked them into the box next to her to prove her point. “I’m still goin’ to make this right, by the way.”

“But Violet, what if it’s true. What if Momma had an excuse for doing what she did.”

Anger burned in Violet’s eyes. “I don’t care what happened to her. There is no reason that could excuse the way she treated us, most of all you.”

Her tone told me she refused to discuss it any further. I was fine with that. I didn't like to think of Daddy doing anything so bad he could break someone.

Boxing up Momma’s possessions was an easy job since we never considered keeping anything, not even for a memento. At five o’clock, Violet announced we were done for the day even though we hadn’t finished everything.

“Time to go through your clothes and get ready for your date.” She sat on my bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as I pulled my new clothing out of my closet and drawers to show her. “Bravo!” she said and clapped when I finished. “I love them.”

“Really?” Her reaction at the funeral made me wary of her acceptance, but I had to admit I had caught her off-guard then.

“Yes, very tasteful and much more age-appropriate. You always looked like a Mini-Me of Momma before.” She shuddered as she said the words.

I considered protesting, but she was right. “So, what do you think?” I asked. “What should I wear?”

Violet picked out a skirt and blouse and told me to take a shower and wash my hair. She would wait for me.

When I got out and dressed, Violet brought in my Walmart receipt. “What’s this?”

“It’s my Wish List,” I said, brushing my damp hair.

“What kind of Wish List?”

“I don't know, things I want to accomplish before I die. Or more specifically, before I get arrested.”

“Rose! Don’t say such a thing! You’re not gonna get arrested.”

I didn't want to think about it, especially since I was preparing for my first date ever. “I certainly hope not, but it’s something I have to consider. There’s circumstantial evidence. Deanna Crawfield says it's a possibility.”

Violet frowned. “I refuse to consider it. You didn’t do it and they’ll catch whoever did.” She turned her attention to the receipt. “This is an odd list.”

“Maybe for you, but it’s mine.”

“I noticed you checked off
kiss a man
.”

“I already told you I had. That should come as no surprise.”

“I hoped it was some kind of rebellious exaggeration. But now that you mention it, why are you so eager to go on a date after your wonderful kiss? Does it have anythin’ to do with the woman in Joe’s backyard?” She looked a little too smug.

“I told you I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Violet tried to hide her smile but not soon enough. “Go blow dry your hair and I’ll show you how to put on makeup. That is if Aunt Bessie didn’t show you already.”

Aunt Bessie had, but it was all so foreign to me. I figured I’d need to be shown multiple times before I felt comfortable putting it on. Violet had brought some of her makeup, thinking I might not have any of my own, which I didn’t. Yet.

I already felt like I was moving at light speed. Every time I saw myself in the mirror I paused, startled by the stranger looking back at me. This new person still took some getting used to. I’d told Violet that it was just hair, but it was more. It signaled the shedding of my old life. When Momma died, the padlock to my jail cell fell off, making me free. While I burst out running with my freedom, every once in awhile I had to stop and figure out where I’d run to.

When Violet finished applying my makeup, which was thankfully very little, she gave me a good look-over and declared me ready. I still had twenty minutes until Steve showed up.

“So what’s Steve look like?” I asked, putting away the clothes I had pulled out earlier.

“He’s got blond hair and blue eyes and is cute as a button.”

Granted, I was new to the whole dating world but
cute as a button
didn’t sound like the way a woman wanted her date described.

Violet planted herself in a chair and turned on the television.

“What are you doin’?” I asked.

She flipped through channels with the remote. “I’m searchin’ for a show that isn’t animated and doesn’t involve cars or guns.”

“But why are you searchin’ for it
here
?”

She glanced up and smiled, wickedness twinkling in her eyes. “Because I can’t watch that at home. If I didn’t know better, Rose, I would suspect you’re tryin’ to get rid of me.”

She was right. I wished she’d leave, but technically, it was her house now, a subject we still needed to address. But not right at that moment, minutes before Steve showed up.

“You’re not goin’ to embarrass me are you?”

She touched her hand to her chest and her eyes grew wide with fake innocence. “Of course not.”

“I’m warnin’ you Violet Mae, you embarrass me when he shows up and I’m not leavin’ with him.”

She held her hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I won’t embarrass you. I just want to make sure you get off okay, since it’s your first date and all.”

I grumbled and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, unable to stop myself from looking out the window into Joe’s backyard. The dog wasn't there and when I craned my neck to look out the front, I didn’t see his girlfriend’s car either.

A loud thumping on the front door broke my concentration and I smacked my head into the window. Steve was early. Rubbing my forehead, I walked to the front door while I shot a look of warning at Violet, who was already getting up. She sat down in the chair, a grin on her face. I grasped the doorknob, took a deep breath, and opened it.

Joe stood in front of me, wearing a sheepish look. I turned back around to see Violet stretching her neck, trying to get a look out the opening.

“It’s not him. I’ll be back in a second.” I slipped out the door and shut it behind me. “What are you doin’ here?” I hissed. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”

“Rose, that’s why I’m here…to explain.” The look on his face told me he was prepared to do a lot of digging to get himself out of his mess.

I had to admit he looked good, really good, but I couldn’t let his looks sway me. “I’m not interested in anythin’ you have to say. You tricked me into thinkin’ you liked me.” I kept my back to the door and I turned the knob to go inside.

“But I do like you, Rose, if you’ll just let me explain.”

“I don't have time for your explanation. My date will show up any minute and I don’t want you standin’ here when he does.”

“Your
date
?” The expression on his face said that was the last thing he expected to hear.

I walked closer to him. “What? You think I'm incapable of gettin’ a date, Joe McAllister? Is that why you thought you could lie to me when you really had a girlfriend?”

His eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine surprise. “No, Rose, of course not, and I didn’t lie. I swear.”

I opened the door and looked over my shoulder at him. “Go swear somewhere else, Joe. I don’t wanna hear it.”

I shut the door on him, amazed at myself for standing up to him, even if I was shaking.

“What was that all about?” Violet asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said walking away. “Don’t you need to be goin’ somewhere?” I was irritated that I let Joe get to me. I didn’t want to go on my first date in a foul mood. I hid the bathroom and tried to calm my nerves when I heard another knock a few minutes later.

“I’ll get it!” Violet called from the living room.

“No, you
won’t
!” I said, hurrying out of the bathroom. “I’ll get it.” I stopped at the door and took a deep breath before I opened it.

Mildred stood in the doorway. I groaned and instantly regretted it.

“Now listen here, young lady. I knowed you been raised betta than that. And don’t think your little show on the front porch the other night escaped my notice.”

I doubted I could juggle fruit on the front porch at three a.m. and escape Mildred’s notice. “I’m sorry, Miss Mildred. I was expecting someone else.”

“Yeah, the playboy that moved in next door to ya, huh? Well, I seen he’s already been here too. I’m surprised you two weren’t performin’ vile acts in broad daylight again.”

All I needed was for Steve to show up and hear Mildred talking about me making out with Joe. I turned to Violet in desperation, but she had already gotten out of the chair and walked up behind me.

“Well, hello, Miss Mildred! What do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?” Violet’s cheerful voice cut the tension in the air.

“I saw your car in the driveway and wanted to come tell you hello.”

I sincerely doubted the truthfulness of that statement. Violet’s car had been in the driveway all afternoon.

Violet put her hand on Mildred’s arm and pulled her through the front door. “How sweet of you! Why don't you come in and have a glass of tea with me?”

“Don’t forget to put your jam away when you get home,” I told Mildred, silently cursing my visions while I shut the door.

Mildred grumbled as she moved past me, giving me an evil glare. She had never hid the fact that she shared Momma’s belief in my demon possession. Violet gave me a wink as they left the room. I had to admit, I owed her.

There was another knock. My front door had seen more action in one evening than it had in the last two months. I took another deep breath and opened it, half expecting to see Joe again. Instead, I saw the Pillsbury Doughboy, or as close to what I’d ever see in real life. He was missing the chef’s hat and the kerchief, but his face was a pasty white and chubby, with big wide eyes like the Doughboy. His button-down shirt barely contained his wide, round gut, and the buttons threatened to pop. I resisted the urge to poke his belly with my finger to hear him giggle.

“Rose?” he asked, his voice shaking from fear. At least I think it was fear, from the look of pure terror on his face.

Nope, no giggling
.

“Steve?” I asked, but I already knew it was him from the tie he wore and the Walmart flowers he held in his hand. Either that or he was a really generous Jehovah’s Witness. “It’s very nice to meet you.” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

He stood in silence, staring at me with his big round eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” I raised my eyebrows in a happy, questioning look.

He remained rooted to the porch. It occurred to me perhaps Joe or Mildred had applied Super Glue on the wood slats.

“I’ll just grab my purse.” I said and he thrust the flowers toward me. “Oh, are those for me? Why, thank you!” I took the flowers, leaving the door open and Steve on the porch.

“Here!” I shoved the flowers at Violet in the kitchen. “Take care of these.”

Violet’s face lit up like a kid getting cotton candy at the carnival. “He brought you flowers?”

I glared at her.

“Who brought y’all flowers? The devil next door?”

“No, Miss Mildred.” Violet said, patting Mildred’s arm. “It’s Rose’s date.”

“
Date
?” Mildred crowed. “After she carried on with that Yankee?”

“Don’t worry, Miss Mildred. Steve’s a good boy, good Henryetta stock. He’s Stan Morris’ grandson.”

I already regretted agreeing to this date and I hadn’t even left yet. I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door before Mildred and Violet decided to start checking Steve’s teeth. He stood exactly where I left him, wearing the same terrified expression, except he leaned to the side. I worried he would fall over trying to see something in the living room.

“Looking for something?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

If possible, his eyes got even bigger as he violently shook his head.

I shut the door as I realized what he was looking for—evidence of Momma’s murder. We started walking across the porch to the steps and I caught the glance he shot my direction, a look of fear.
He thinks I killed Momma
. There was no way I could go out with him. What I couldn't figure out is why he agreed to go out with me in the first place.

I stood next to the passenger door of Steve’s car. “Steve, I…” My words stopped on my tongue. Joe sat on his front porch, drinking a beer and watching my every move with a suspicious glint in his eye.

Crappy doodles
.

Steve waited for me to finish.

I smiled up at him with my sweetest smile, which I hoped would convince him I was incapable of murdering anyone, least of all my own Momma. “I just wanted to tell you how delighted I am that you’re takin’ me out to dinner.” I said loud enough for Joe to hear. To finish it off, I raised up on my toes and kissed Steve on his pasty cheek, surprised it didn’t taste like biscuit dough. I hoped Joe didn't see Steve cringe at the contact.

I sat in the front seat, waiting for Steve to get in, smiling my fake happy smile. I was almost surprised to see him get in, half expecting him to run screaming down the street. I had to admit he had a nice car, one he probably didn't want to leave behind with a murderer. If I could murder my own Momma, I bet he could only imagine what I would do to his poor Buick.

We drove to the restaurant in silence, me fidgeting with my hands on my lap and Steve griping the steering wheel with both hands, hanging on for dear life. He occasionally darted looks toward me out of the corner of his eye as if I was gonna attack him at any moment.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of Jaspers, one of Henryetta’s nicest restaurants, which wasn’t saying much. People in Henryetta weren’t that fancy, in spite of all their bloodline talk. But Jaspers was a decent steak house, or so I heard. I’d never been there.