Big Cherry Holler - Adriana Trigiani [54]
“Gala. I have a job for you.”
“Let me get a pencil. Give me the dates.”
As I give Gala the dates, I picture Jack and me in Santa Margherita, on the cliffs of the Mediterranean Sea, in the port by the sea with bright blue water where white sailboats bob like prizes and the nets are filled with shiny pink fish and the moon makes the cobblestones look like they’re brushed in silver glitter. My husband will fall in love with me again in that light. I just know it.
I drive up Valley Road on my way to Norton. Pearl wants me to see the new building; the deal went through the week after Christmas. It’s easy to find where Mutual Pharmacy II will be, as there are building permits posted in the window. Pearl is waiting for me inside.
“I wanted to hire MR. J’s, but they’re booked up.”
“That’s okay. How’s your dad?”
“He’s going to be just fine.”
“There’s all sorts of stories in town.”
“I know.” Pearl frowns.
“What was he doing in the theater?” I ask her gently.
“He was sleeping there.”
“But they say he lives in Dunbar.”
“Not really. After he left Mama and me, he went and lived with a woman in Dunbar, and then she threw him out after a couple of years.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“About a month ago. He comes to me twice a year. For money.” Pearl looks down when she says this. “And I give him a little, and he always promises to pay it back, and then he disappears.”
“How did he find you?”
“He saw my picture in the paper when I graduated from UVA Wise.”
“Did your mom know?”
“Yeah, and she didn’t discourage me from seeing him. I feel bad. Mr. Honeycutt didn’t know he was staying there. He snuck in through an old air shaft behind the screen.”
“Don’t worry. Old Jim Roy is just happy his collection got saved.”
Pearl shows me the plans for the pharmacy—no soda fountain here, it will be strictly med counter and health and beauty aisles. She also tells me that the Soda Fountain is such a success, she should be able to pay off the bank loan within a year.
“I’d better get back to town. We have the sale running.” I turn to go. “Pearl, where’s your dad now?”
“I got him an apartment in Appalachia. I don’t know if he’ll stay, though.”
“It’s so complicated, isn’t it?”
“I’ll never figure it all out, will I?” Pearl asks me by way of answer.
“Did you ever ask him why he left you?”
“I did.”
“And what did he say?”
“He told me it hurt too much to stay.” Pearl shrugs. “I don’t understand it. But that’s the way it is.”
The after-Christmas sale at Mutual Pharmacy is a circus. All holiday decorations, wrapping paper, ribbons, and gift sets are marked half off. Jean Hendrick has loaded her trunk with stuff twice. Mrs. Spivey and Liz Ann Noel nearly got in a hair-pulling fight over our last mechanical angel, marked down 75 percent (even though the angel was missing a wing). Peggy Slemp bought the remaining three boxes of Whitman’s chocolates (we polished off the rest on the Fire Night) for half off (she freezes them!). “She gives ’em year-round. She is so cheap. Tighter than a truss,” Fleeta sniffed, but she rang them up anyway.
The crowds have made the Soda Fountain lunches standing room only. Tayloe Lassiter was promoted to hostess during the post-holiday rush. We have two high school kids from Mr. Curry’s Future Business Leaders Club