Page 21 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin’s Duet (Sins of the South)

“You called Francine? You had no right.” Lorrie stuffed the jacket in the dryer with some force. “Her eyes stay poppin’ out of her head every time you walk in. How do you have her phone number?” she demanded jealously.

“It’s on the internet, Lorraine.”

“Well– I don’t want you messing with my work. It makes me look unprofessional.”

“It’s a hair salon, not the goddamned United Nations.”

“I guess I should be more like your crackhead wife, huh? What does she do for a living again?”

“I told you to stay in that cabin for a reason. There’s too much going on right now and I won’t have you— are you listening to me?”

“Nope.”

“Turn your location on.”

“No.”

“Lorraine I swear to Christ—”

The dryer now bumping along, Lorrie darted through the kitchen and stepped outside before hissing, “I’m with family right now. I’m probably gonna sleep here tonight, so save your breath trying to get me back there.”

“Family. Your Aunt Pearl’s?” he worked out quickly.

Crap. “No,” she lied.

“PEARL!” shouted Uncle Julius from inside. “I’M GONNA HEAD TO THE STORE IN A MINUTE.”

“GET TOMATOES, BABY,” Aunt Pearl hollered back. “AND SOME MORE PEROXIDE.”

“Bet,” said Absalom. Lorrie hung up the phone. That man had all the nerve. If he really did turn up here she was going to wring him out.

“Lorraine, are you outside, baby? Do you need anything from the store?”

“I’m alright Aunt Pearl, thank you.”

“Then come in and talk to us for a minute.”

No more delaying it. She braced herself and went back into the house where her aunt began barraging her with questions about where she was living and if she was seeing anybody and if she still went to church.

Twenty minutes later when the doorbell rang, Lorrie was almost grateful.

“I’m on it,” Uncle Julius wheezed, rising off the chair.

“Don’t keep ‘em waiting in the cold, Julius.”

“They won’t freeze to death for thirty seconds, Pearl.” Before running his errand Lorrie’s uncle had decided to sit and have a coke, and he’d been caught up in Lorrie’s somewhat fabricated tale about camping in the woods the night before.

RIIING.

Uncle Julius checked his watch. “Shoot, I better go to the grocery. What do you think, ladies? Tomatoes, Peroxide…Need some Newports, too.”

“Lorraine, tell your Uncle he needs to stop smoking.”

“It’s bad for you, Uncle Julius.” Lorrie swallowed. “Who’s at the door?”

“Probably that damned Eleanora Mabel. I can’t have my cigarettes but your aunt will bring that woman around every other day to raise my pressure.”

Now the person was knocking. “Were you expecting somebody, Pearl?” Uncle Julius frowned.

“No. Eleanora is in Charlottesville this weekend like I told you.”

“I hope to Jesus. If I have to hear about that woman’s shingles one more time….” Lorrie’s uncle peered through the window and abruptly straightened up. “Well!”

“Who is that, now?” Aunt Pearl asked sharply.

“It’s some big-boned redneck. ”

Lorrie shot to her feet as her uncle and aunt exchanged a wordless look.

“It’s probably nothing,” said Aunt Pearl slowly, picking up the thread of an earlier conversation which Lorrie had missed. “You know how people exaggerate.”

“I put nothing past those rednecks, Pearl. I heard they got a whole troop of ‘em ready to rampage through Black Florin like the old days.”

“Stuff!”

“Ben Simpson told me just this morning that Roman McCall’s flown the coop, and left them good old boys to start up the marijuana growing.

They got some young tough with yella hair leading the pack now.

He’s saying he’s gonna make Florin great again.

And you know Ben ain’t the kind to put a yard on an inch. ”

“People say all kinds of stuff, that doesn’t make it true, Julius.”

“I wish you’d tell that to your friends.”

“Enough about Eleanora Mabel! Answer the door!”

Her uncle went to open the door. Around the corner Lorrie and her aunt heard him ask, “Can I help you?”

“Sir, are you Mister Denver?”

Aunt Pearl’s eyebrows lifted as Absalom introduced himself as “Lorrie’s friend”.

The implication was obvious. Lorrie clenched her teeth so hard her whole mouth went numb.

She wasn’t about to let him drag her back to that cabin, but at the same time she didn’t want to make a scene in front of her aunt and uncle.

“I’ve come to see Lorraine. Is she here?” Absalom asked in his most formal tone.

“ ‘Come to see her?’ Not looking like that you’re not,” said Uncle Julius flatly.

It was a rare moment to find Absalom lost for words. “Ah, sir,” he recovered, and Lorrie knew him well enough to hear the restrained laughter in his voice. “I just was gonna go home to change.”

“And have her waiting on you? What kind of world are you young folks living in?”

Aunt Pearl grabbed her cane and began limping to the door without delay. Still holding Franklin Junior, Lorrie felt glued to the floor.

“I know that man, Julius!” Aunt Pearl called. “That’s the new Deputy.”

“Temporary Deputy,” said Absalom modestly.

“How much do you make from that?”

“Julius! You can come inside, young man. As long as it’s okay with Lorraine.”

Lorrie stepped onto the scene holding baby Franklin. Absalom’s eyes fastened on her. The afternoon light shot through his blue irises like clear water. He ducked through the doorway and entered the house. She could tell he hadn’t slept a wink.

“He can come in,” she said hoarsely, turning away and cuddling Franklin Junior.

Once inside Absalom turned up his charm, taking baby Franklin from Lorrie and dandling him on his lap as he chatted to her aunt and uncle about the crooked mailbox in their front yard.

He sat next to Lorrie on the couch, at a distance.

She scanned him from the corner of her eye knowing he was doing the same, but even more sneakily.

He did look more rumpled than normal. The fresh T-shirt he’d changed into at the cabin were now stained with engine oil, and his boots were filthy, this time with mud, not blood.

There were grass-stains on his jeans and he smelled of… Lorrie sniffed. Delicately.

Smoke. He’s been lighting fires.

Burning what?

“Every time we get a mailbox put up, somebody comes to knock it down again,” Uncle Julius was saying.

“It’s those white boys from that trailer park down there.

I caught ‘em red-handed and do you know what they told me? I won’t even repeat it.

Now if I take matters into my own hands, I’ll get all their daddies trying to burn down my house.

Black Florin is still part of Florin and we pay taxes just like everybody else.

Some things need to change around here.” He left the rest unspoken, but Absalom heard it.

“I’ll see what I can do, sir,” Absalom said.

Lorrie rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“Young man, would you like something to drink?” broke in Aunt Pearl. “Whiskey? Scotch? Vodka? Rum? Lemonade?”

Absalom’s lips twitched. “I’ll take a lemonade, thank you.”

Uncle Julius made a noise. “You don’t drink?”

“Nothing I didn’t brew myself, sir.”

“And what’s that? Corn liquor?”

“Apple hooch. I can’t stand the other stuff.”

“Bad for your teeth.”

Absalom grinned. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. “True enough.”

Losing track of the conversation, Lorrie stared at Absalom’s hands, which were holding Franklin Junior so gently.

Those hands had built her entire front porch, rewired her kitchen and fixed her roof.

Those hands had caressed her intimately.

And just yesterday those giant hands had picked up an axe and—

She stood up. “Excuse me.”

Aunt Pearl exclaimed, “Lorraine, you’re green as a dollar bill!”

“Which reminds me, I need to go to the store,” said her uncle. “Y’all need anything?”

“I ate before I came here, sir, thank you.” Absalom looked up at Lorrie. “Can I talk to you outside?” he murmured.

“Alright.” Avoiding her Aunt Pearl’s eye, Lorrie took back Franklin Junior and headed to the front door. She felt better holding the baby in her arms.

Absalom shut the front door and now they were alone together on the porch.

Lorrie stared at the road. More specifically she stared at the raccoon trying to get into the neighbor’s garbage can.

The animal was damn near the size of a bicycle.

It stood on its hind legs and hauled itself up the fence.

Then it stretched out its paws and began trying to lift up the lid.

“Lorrie, will you stop staring at that critter and look at me?”

The sunset, now sunk deeper between the hills, had turned Absalom’s white-blonde hair into autumn leaves. He stared down at her, his hands thrust into his pocket, studying her face. She smiled at him crookedly.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You look nice,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“It was nice to meet your folks.”

“I’m happy that you did. I should have come around to see them more.”

“They love you a lot.”

“I know.” Lorrie could feel Aunt Pearl’s eyes on her through the lace curtains. Jezebel, she imagined her aunt was thinking, which was not the truth so much as Lorrie’s own image of herself.

Because all Aunt Pearl was really thinking was, I don’t think little Lorraine will stay for dinner after all.

Maybe I can send her off with some of that pecan pie in the fridge, if Julius didn’t eat it all.

I hope that baby knows what she’s doing.

Nice girl, but she’s too much of her Mama. I’ll pray for her.

“Let me say my piece, and then I’ll leave if you want me to,” said Absalom.

“Say it, shug,” said Lorrie quietly.