Bent Road - Lori Roy [47]
“Have a seat, Daniel,” she says. “Our dinner has gone cold. I’ll warm it up.”
“I’m not hungry,” he says.
As he walks across the kitchen, the floorboards creak under Daniel’s feet. Near the back door, he sees the gun cabinet. It’s locked up tight. His rifle is resting just where it should be. Next time, he’ll be thinking. Next time, he won’t forget. Mama calls out again, offering to warm up a few extra rolls for him. He waves her off, doesn’t bother with an answer, and once inside his bedroom, he pulls the door closed behind him. Waiting for the click that will tell him it has latched, he walks to his bed, lies down, pulls his knees to his chest and closes his eyes. Next time, he’ll be ready.
Chapter 13
Holding her hands behind her back and taking small sideways steps, Evie edges toward Grandma Reesa’s living room. Everyone else is sitting at Grandma’s kitchen table, talking about how upset they are that Uncle Ray came to the house last night wanting Aunt Ruth’s pie and a jump for his truck. Three times, Mama has told Daddy what a fine job Daniel did watching over all the ladies of the house, but Daniel is still feeling bad about it because he pulls away when Mama tries to brush back his bangs. In between chopping up a chunk of meat, Grandma Reesa keeps filling everyone’s coffee cup, and Mama frowns every time Grandma drops another sugar cube in Daddy’s. Aunt Ruth sits with her hands folded in her lap, not saying much of anything. Occasionally, she lifts her hands from her lap, wraps them around her coffee mug and takes a sip.
“Maybe you should go along and play upstairs, Evie,” Mama says.
Evie unclasps her hands, bites her lower lip and says, “Okay.”
“Mind the stairs in those stocking feet,” Grandma Reesa calls out.
At the sound of Grandma’s voice, Evie stops running and breaks into a slide that sends her floating through Grandma’s overstuffed living room. She sweeps past the coffee table, knocking over a frame, rattling a few of Grandma’s knickknacks, and stirring up the sour, moldy smell that always hangs over Grandma’s house. At the bottom of the staircase, she grabs the small plastic tote that usually holds her favorite doll’s dresses, the ones that Aunt Ruth sews for her. With a running start, she takes the stairs two at time, slides down the narrow hallway on the second floor and is breathing heavily when she pulls Aunt Eve’s door closed behind her.
Celia waits until she hears Evie’s footsteps overhead before asking her next question. “You know him best, Ruth. Was he sober?”
Daniel stands. “Barely,” he says, stepping away from Celia and leaning against the refrigerator.
“What do you know about being barely sober?” Elaine asks. She is sitting across from Celia, and as she speaks, she gazes up at Jonathon, who is standing behind her. She looks like a woman about to be proposed to and Jonathon like a man about to do the asking.
“I know plenty,” Daniel says. “I know I was there and you weren’t.”
Jonathon takes Elaine’s hand, pats it and says, “I’d guess Daniel knows what he’s talking about.”
“He was sober,” Ruth says, nodding at Daniel. “Just barely.”
“Well, that’s it then,” Arthur says. “He’s back.”
Reesa, standing near her kitchen sink, reaches into an overhead cabinet, and as she takes down the saltshaker and seasons the cubed steak she has laid out on a cookie sheet, she leans back and whispers to Celia, “You should salt the meat before you grind it. Not after.” And then, in a louder voice, “I think Ruth should move here. Farther away has to be better. Let the dust settle for a while.” She sets aside the salt and, as she takes a bag of bread crumbs from the freezer, she says, “You do know how to make bread crumbs, don’t you?”
Celia takes a deep breath and smiles. “Yes, Reesa. I do.”
“Ruth isn’t moving here,” Arthur says.
Ruth exhales a little too loudly, which makes Celia chuckle. She presses her lips together when Arthur glances at her.
“I’ll help out however I can, Arthur,” Jonathon says.
“What was that for?” Elaine