to the Dempseys on his mama’s side, I think, but I can’t keep all that stuff straight. Anyway, welcome to Guthrie. How are you settlin’ in over there at Birdsong? Is Ella Kate cutting up something awful over having you there?”
“She didn’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon,” I said. “But we’ll get along. There’s a lot of work to be done.”
Chellie rolled her eyes. “Honey, that’s the understatement of the year. At least when Mr. Norbert was alive, he kept up the yard. He used tohave the prettiest camellias in town. Buttercups too. And roses. He’d cut roses and bring ’em in here, to Delores over at the bank, and church, of course. After Norbert passed, I think Ella Kate tried for a little while, but it all got to be too much for her. She’s gotta be eighty if she’s a day. Anyway, you’re young. And you’re skinny, but I reckon you’re probably strong too. You’ll do just fine, long as you don’t let Ella Kate mow you down.”
“Thanks,” I said, handing her my money. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
When I got back to the house, I was surprised to see a pickup truck loaded with rakes and mowers and other lethal-looking implements parked at the curb. A tall mound of tree limbs and vines was stacked there too, and I could hear the high-pitched whine of a chain saw.
I grabbed a bag of groceries and followed the racket up the driveway. A young man in jeans and a flannel shirt was flailing away at a sapling with the saw. When he saw me, he cut the saw’s motor.
“Hi,” I said. “Did I hire you to clear the property?”
“No’m,” he said. “Mr. Carter sent me over. He told me to tell you it’ll be billed to your daddy.”
That was fine by me.
When I let myself in the kitchen door, I found, to my relief, that Ella Kate seemed to have decamped.
Upstairs, I paused outside Ella Kate’s bedroom door. I tapped lightly, but there was no answer. As I’d expected, her door was locked.
But the next door down was unlocked. This one was another large, square bedroom, approximately the same size as the one I’d claimed for myself.
The wallpaper was peeling, but charming, with a floral stripe of blue morning glories. A narrow bed with a tall iron headboard and footboard was covered by an old army blanket, a worn quilt folded at the foot. The tall oak dresser had a delicately embroidered linen runner with what looked like hand-crocheted edging. Set on top of it was a tarnished silver comb and hairbrush set with a few white hairs still clinging to the bristles. Beside the brush sat a hinged double tintype portrait of the couple I recognized from the picture on the stair landing. Ipeered closely at them, trying to recognize my Dempsey ancestors. Was there something in the set of the chin? The woman’s was narrow, making her face nearly heart shaped. Her lips were thin and unsmiling, but the upper lip had a hint of a cupid’s bow. I’d spent a lot of time trying to get lip liner around my own cupid’s-bow upper lip.
I opened a narrow closet door. Apparently, I’d found great-uncle Norbert’s bedroom. Six white dress shirts hung stiffly from their hangers, their collars and cuffs yellowed with age and blotched with brownish rust stains. Four or five faded flannel shirts hung beside those, telling me that Norbert favored utility over formality. There was a rusty black suit with narrow lapels in a plastic dry cleaner’s bag, and on a nail hanging from the back of the closet door I saw three silk neckties in sober maroon and navy stripes. A hook held two pairs of denim overalls, softened from what must have been hundreds of hours of work and washings. On the floor of the closet were a pair of dusty black lace-up dress shoes, a pair of work boots, and a pair of paint-spattered high-top Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers.
Chucks! I picked them up and sniffed. They smelled like red clay and turpentine. I set the shoes down gently.
Back in my bedroom, I undressed and slid my legs into
“She didn’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon,” I said. “But we’ll get along. There’s a lot of work to be done.”
Chellie rolled her eyes. “Honey, that’s the understatement of the year. At least when Mr. Norbert was alive, he kept up the yard. He used tohave the prettiest camellias in town. Buttercups too. And roses. He’d cut roses and bring ’em in here, to Delores over at the bank, and church, of course. After Norbert passed, I think Ella Kate tried for a little while, but it all got to be too much for her. She’s gotta be eighty if she’s a day. Anyway, you’re young. And you’re skinny, but I reckon you’re probably strong too. You’ll do just fine, long as you don’t let Ella Kate mow you down.”
“Thanks,” I said, handing her my money. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
When I got back to the house, I was surprised to see a pickup truck loaded with rakes and mowers and other lethal-looking implements parked at the curb. A tall mound of tree limbs and vines was stacked there too, and I could hear the high-pitched whine of a chain saw.
I grabbed a bag of groceries and followed the racket up the driveway. A young man in jeans and a flannel shirt was flailing away at a sapling with the saw. When he saw me, he cut the saw’s motor.
“Hi,” I said. “Did I hire you to clear the property?”
“No’m,” he said. “Mr. Carter sent me over. He told me to tell you it’ll be billed to your daddy.”
That was fine by me.
When I let myself in the kitchen door, I found, to my relief, that Ella Kate seemed to have decamped.
Upstairs, I paused outside Ella Kate’s bedroom door. I tapped lightly, but there was no answer. As I’d expected, her door was locked.
But the next door down was unlocked. This one was another large, square bedroom, approximately the same size as the one I’d claimed for myself.
The wallpaper was peeling, but charming, with a floral stripe of blue morning glories. A narrow bed with a tall iron headboard and footboard was covered by an old army blanket, a worn quilt folded at the foot. The tall oak dresser had a delicately embroidered linen runner with what looked like hand-crocheted edging. Set on top of it was a tarnished silver comb and hairbrush set with a few white hairs still clinging to the bristles. Beside the brush sat a hinged double tintype portrait of the couple I recognized from the picture on the stair landing. Ipeered closely at them, trying to recognize my Dempsey ancestors. Was there something in the set of the chin? The woman’s was narrow, making her face nearly heart shaped. Her lips were thin and unsmiling, but the upper lip had a hint of a cupid’s bow. I’d spent a lot of time trying to get lip liner around my own cupid’s-bow upper lip.
I opened a narrow closet door. Apparently, I’d found great-uncle Norbert’s bedroom. Six white dress shirts hung stiffly from their hangers, their collars and cuffs yellowed with age and blotched with brownish rust stains. Four or five faded flannel shirts hung beside those, telling me that Norbert favored utility over formality. There was a rusty black suit with narrow lapels in a plastic dry cleaner’s bag, and on a nail hanging from the back of the closet door I saw three silk neckties in sober maroon and navy stripes. A hook held two pairs of denim overalls, softened from what must have been hundreds of hours of work and washings. On the floor of the closet were a pair of dusty black lace-up dress shoes, a pair of work boots, and a pair of paint-spattered high-top Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers.
Chucks! I picked them up and sniffed. They smelled like red clay and turpentine. I set the shoes down gently.
Back in my bedroom, I undressed and slid my legs into
Similar Books
