"Hell," Darlene said, as she watched. "If I were you, I'd hop in that little bug and haul on outta here before that young'un gets back. Jeez," she sighed, "Where'd our little Sheila go, and who's this creature?"
"Teenagers," I said. "That's what it is, a social disease. I reckon she'll be a complete and total idiot for another couple of years and then she'll return back to normal, if there ever was a normal."
Darlene watched Sheila's retreating back. "Well," she said, turning back to me, "it ain't gonna matter much in another minute. You just wait. Here, listen."
We stood in the darkened yard, listening as the barn door swung open and Earl fumbled around for the light. There was total silence and then: "Oh Uncle Earl!" This was then followed by: "Really? He's mine?"
"Darlene," I said, turning back to her, "you didn't. You know that young'un can't keep track of a dog!"
Darlene stuck her hands on her hips and gave me one of her looks. "Well, maybe you'd better think about something. If that young'un's keeping up with a puppy, and tending to its every need, she might be less tempted to produce a litter of her own just yet." The rest of her sentence hung between us, unspoken… "like you did." Maybe it's just my sensitivity, because Darlene's never said one disapproving word to me, but still I thought it. Vernell and I were so young when we had Sheila.
"Hey," Darlene said, "why aren't you staying?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "All right, I'll give it a shot, but I truly don't expect you to get this because I don't fully understand it myself." Darlene and I walked up the steps to her trailer. She waited until we were inside, sitting at stools pulled up to the breakfast bar, before she urged me to go on.
"You know Vernell about as well as I do," I said. "He's lying pond scum on a good day and an alcoholic on a bad one. But all of his sorry little life, I've been looking for the good in that man. And you know it's there." Darlene nodded, but she didn't seem as convinced as I was.
"He loves me and Sheila. I don't doubt that. But something inside that man won't let him be the husband and father he wants to be. Now, he's a right good daddy."
Darlene interrupted. "Yeah, if you don't count him running off and leaving you and Sheila for a bimbo, he's a peach of a father."
She kind of had me there. "But he supports her. He took her in when I was having trouble with her. He loves her, Darlene, even you know that."
Darlene shrugged her shoulders in a grudging admission.
"And when Jolene ran off, hell, even before that, when his brother, Jimmy, died, who'd he come to first? Me."
Darlene raised up and glared at me. "You're not thinking of taking him back, are you?"
I smiled. "Darlene, pity is one thing, foolishness is another. I care for him. Somehow I see him as, well, like a kid that can't grow up. And he's Sheila's daddy. I've gotta help him whenever I can."
Darlene was still frowning. "I saw an Oprah show on that," she said. "What you got is a bad case of codependency."
"Well, what else I've got is a bad case of that man ran off with all the money in his business accounts and payroll's due and I'm half-owner and I can't cover it!"
"That," Darlene pronounced with satisfaction, "is a reason I can get behind."
"Just hang on to Sheila," I said. "She's right shook up about this, but of course it comes out as obnoxious behavior."
Darlene laughed. "She won't be obnoxious with me. I'm gonna put her to work. She'll be mucking out stalls and training that puppy. When she's done with that I'm gonna make her come teach the little ones with me down at the dance studio."
"So you figure she'll be too tired to be obnoxious? I wouldn't bet on it."
Darlene laughed. "Quit worrying!" Then she looked serious for a moment. "You are going to have protection, right? You're not just going to go bumbling around without someone or something to deal with trouble, are you?"
"Sure," I lied. "I'm covered over in protection. I've got a private eye and a police detective to watch out for me. I'm just going to lay low and help them out with information when I can."
Darlene didn't look like she believed me. When I walked down to the barn to kiss Sheila good-bye, she didn't believe me either.
"I know whose shirt that is," she said.
What could I say? I hadn't had time to change. I'd been in a hurry and hadn't given it a thought. So I went right on with my farewell instructions as if she hadn't said a word.
"And I'll run by the school and get your work, so don't worry about it." As if Sheila would give it a second thought.
"Mama," Sheila said, "if you're finally dating that detective, you don't have to hide it from me. After all," she said, tossing her long red hair back, "we are women. We can share these things. My psychology teacher says it is the hallmark of a self-actualized relationship."
I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "And your grandma used to say that even a blind hog finds an acorn now and again. It just don't make him brilliant."
I hugged her neck and turned to go.
"Mama," she said, "don't let anything happen to you. Tell him I said to take care of you."
"He will, baby," I said, and turned away. I didn't want her to see my face. I didn't want her to know that I wasn't sure Marshall Weathers would look out for anything other than his own tough hide.
Chapter Fourteen
Greensboro was sleeping peacefully when I arrived back in town. I drove up Friendly Avenue, pacing myself to ride right through a string of green lights, winding around and turning onto Mendenhall, then slipping down the alley to my bungalow. There was no way I could stay there, but I needed enough clothes to last through the next few days. I could've kicked myself for not packing when I'd had the opportunity, but I'd been in too much of a hurry to get Sheila out of town and myself away from Carlucci.
I found myself flashing to the image of Carlucci, standing in my doorway, gun in hand, ready to take on the unseen threat to Vernell's family. I thought of the way he'd handled Sheila, easing her out of town, making her part of the solution, not another teenaged problem. And then I thought of him in a completely different manner. He was strong and attractive in a very different way from Marshall. Tony was there, in your face and ready. Marshall was more cautious, more reserved. I shook myself.
"Stop it," I whispered. "This ain't no time for thinking about men." After all, it was better to be called foolish than to be called unprepared. I had to be ready. By the time I reached my street, I was all business.
The lights were all out, and there was no sign of Tony Carlucci. "Probably found a hole to crawl into somewhere," I muttered. But to be on the safe side, I parked at the far end of the alley and crept back. I walked around the back of the house, peering in the windows before I remembered we'd closed all the curtains and shades. There was nothing for it but to go inside.
I slipped the key into the back door lock, turned it, and entered into my bedroom, pausing for a moment as the light from the alleyway shone in across my bed. Nothing. No Carlucci. I breathed a sigh of relief, closed the door, and crossed the room headed for the tiny blinking red light of the answering machine. "The key is not to turn on any lights," I whispered.
I hit the play button and settled in to listen to the messages. There were at least four hang-ups, followed by Terrance Griswald, the manager at the Mobile Home Kingdom.