Bent Road - Lori Roy [50]
Mr. Bucher nods over his coffee cup.
One of the brothers, the biggest, and the only one wearing a hat, turns in his seat. Mrs. Bucher doesn’t seem like the type of mother who would allow hats at the table. Except when the man turns, it isn’t a Bucher brother.
“Morning there, Dan.”
Uncle Ray raises his cup and tips his hat.
Celia pretends to sleep as Arthur slips out of bed. She knows they’ll be late to church if they don’t get a move on, because the sun is high enough in the sky to fill their bedroom with light. Once Arthur has left the room, Celia pulls the blankets to her chin and tucks them under her shoulders. The front door opens, closes, and opens again and Arthur stomps his heavy boots. He only uses the front door when he is gathering wood for the fireplace from along the side of the house. When the night temperatures dip so low, the radiator can’t keep up, but Arthur will have a fine fire going in no time. Newspapers crackle as he twists them into kindling and, after a few minutes, the sweet, rich smell of a newly started fire drifts into the bedroom. The house will warm quickly, but Celia wonders if even then she’ll want to get up.
She pushed Arthur away last night, gently, but firmly, and this morning, she pretended sleep. She should tell him but won’t because it’ll only make things worse. She can’t tell him how Ray looked at her out there on the porch the other night, how she can see what Ray is thinking and that it makes her ashamed. Or maybe Arthur would think her silly, or worse yet, selfish for thinking of herself instead of Ruth. Maybe she is silly and even selfish, too. Whatever this feeling is, shame or guilt, it’ll pass. No, she can’t tell Arthur, because if she really made him understand, if she made him appreciate that in the privacy of a single glance, a man can tell a woman that he is coming for her, he’d kill Ray. Just like that. He’d kill him.
“Morning, sir,” Daniel says.
Uncle Ray looks at Mr. Bucher with his good brown eye, while the bad eye seems stuck on Daniel. He laughs and says, “Would you look at the manners on my nephew?” Then he stands and gives Daniel a solid pat on the back. “Thank you for the hot wake-me-up, Ida. Real kind of you.” Nodding to Mr. Bucher, he says, “Monday morning, then?”
Mr. Bucher stands and shakes the hand Uncle Ray has held out to him.
“Are you off so soon, Ray?” Mrs. Bucher says, poking her bacon with one hand and balancing her new baby on her hip with the other. “Bacon’s almost done.”
Uncle Ray holds up a hand and shakes his head. “No, thank you all the same. I’ll leave you to your family, Ida.”
“Will we be seeing you at church this morning?” Bouncing the baby so she won’t fuss, Mrs. Bucher spears the fatty end of one piece of bacon with her fork, flips it and lays it back in the grease.
“Well, how about that. Today is Sunday, after all.” Uncle Ray says it as if Sunday snuck up on him. “I guess I’ll get along and put on something decent.”
“We’ll all be glad to have you back,” Mrs. Bucher says.
Uncle Ray gives Daniel another pat on the shoulder. On the last pat, he holds on. “Nice manners. Real nice.”
Mr. Bucher walks Uncle Ray outside and waits there until a truck engine fires up before walking back into the kitchen. Mrs. Bucher gives him a nod, or maybe she is taking a deep breath and they both turn to Daniel.
“Ray’s going to be working with your father and me,” Mr. Bucher says.
The clatter of silverware stops and chewing mouths go quiet. The brothers sitting around the table and the one scooping potato peels and the one poking through the cabinets and Ian pause to listen.
“Down at the county. Driving a grader, I suppose. Your pa called last night. Asked me this favor. Said he’d be sending Ray over this morning.”
Mr. Bucher glances over at Mrs. Bucher again.
“Your pa’s a smart man, Dan. Keeping that snake where he can see him.” Mr. Bucher takes another sip of coffee. “Got a warmer-upper for me?” he says, holding his cup out for Mrs. Bucher to fill. “You understand