A Place Called Wiregrass Read Online Free PDF Page B

it.” I slammed the phone down as hard as I could.
    He wouldn’t even think of fighting me over Cher. Not even Mama could go along with him on that one. The slightest chance made my heart race. I’m stronger than this, I reminded myself. But what if he does fight and finds some crooked judge? Lord knows Louisiana was full of them. I sat on the edge of the shiny black piano bench and tried to let my nerves settle. My breath grew deeper, and soon my heartbeat withdrew from the base of my neck. As I sat there looking at a painting of two brown rabbits, which hung over the phone table, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Richard felt during one of his nerve attacks.
    With my head held high, I walked briskly back into the kitchen. Miss Claudia, standing with the help of her silver cane, was taping something on the refrigerator door. She did her best to act like nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. My attention was diverted by her upright position. She was much taller than I expected, and she shook her head as she smoothed out the edges of a piece of notebook paper.
    I began pulling out the usual equipment for breakfast, and she sat back down at the kitchen table. When I turned to the refrigerator, I paused to notice the white paper with block letters: CLOSE!
    “That’s not for you, sugar. That’s for Richard. He’s gonna run my electric bill sky-high. Can’t remember to leave that door shut for the life of him.”
    I tried to smile and moved quickly to retrieve the frying pan. The clanking spoon against the frying pan in my old house drummed in my mind. Before I could close the cabinet, the black cast-iron tumbled to the floor. I scooped it up and mumbled an apology. Turning around three times, trying to remember where the eggs were, I suddenly felt lost.
    “Eggs are right behind you, sugar.” Her smile was warm and comforting, like someone who wanted to keep a secret.
    No, don’t fall into that trap . I’ve told her too much as it is. Lord only knows how much she heard.
    “You’re just all to pieces. Come over here and sit down.” She patted the wooden chair like she was enticing a disobedient child to behave.
    I was sure she was gonna tell me if I don’t leave my personal problems at the house, she’d have to let me go. My heart moved up to my throat again. I thought for sure she could see the pulsating rhythm in my neck. Flipping my ponytail over the base of my neck, I rested my hands on the table as if everything was hunky-dory.
    Her eyes closed, and she sighed. “Some men just ain’t worth spit.” My palm flinched when she put her blue-veined hands on top of mine. She gazed out the kitchen window and shook her teased hair.
    “I’m real sorry you had to hear all that.” I sighed, trying to find words to explain and at the same time censor the details of life in Cross City. “He just…I mean, it was just too much and finally…”
    “You felt like you were just about to suffocate.”
    I wanted to stand up and yell “Yeah” and go off on a testimony about Bozo and what a waste he had been in my life. But I just sat there, mesmerized by this woman who suddenly seemed foreign compared to her circle of friends who participated in the First Methodist sick-list parade. She stared at the blots of yellow and pink in the rose garden just beyond her window.
    “Not many people know I was married before. Down in Apalachicola, Florida, where I was raised. Richard and Patricia hardly know a thing about all that. It comes to me now and then. Like just now when you were talking to that man.” She rubbed my hand, but never looked down. I knew the reprimand was just a few breaths away.
    “My first one, Luther Ranker, was not good to me a’tall. If Daddy would’ve lived, things would’ve been different. I can still remember the salty sea smell on Daddy’s shirtsleeve. He’d come in from fishing after a long day and still find time to tussle around on the floor with me and my little brother, Jack