Sparring Partners(20)

Two large plastic glasses of tea hit the table. “Lemon’s over there,” the waitress nodded.

Jake said, “It’s not too late to try again. You’re not exactly a geezer.”

“We’ll see. I’m trying to adjust these days. It’s overwhelming at times. Plus, there’s still the fear of the knock on the door.”

“That doesn’t look likely.”

Mack took a sip and said, “I can’t believe Margot called you like that. I wonder what she wants.”

“Maybe she wants to see her father. Her mother is dying. Her world is upside down. Were you guys close?”

“It seemed like a typical father-daughter relationship. Nothing really special. The girls always preferred to spend time with their mother, and that was fine with everyone. To be honest, Jake, I stayed away from home as much as possible. The marriage was crap from day one. To save it, we decided to have a couple of kids, which is not an uncommon mistake. How many times have you heard that with divorce clients?”

“At least a hundred.”

“That didn’t work. Nothing worked.”

“This is a horrible thing to say, Mack, but things might get easier for you after Lisa is gone. Don’t you think?”

“They can’t get much worse. The girls will be a mess. When I was in the picture the girls were close to their mother, but the teenage years were only beginning. Who knows what’s happened since then.”

“Will you try to get custody?”

“It’s too early. I don’t want to cause trouble right now. Besides, the girls are old enough to choose where they want to live. With me, or with their grandparents. I suspect Herman will put up a big fight to keep the girls. I’m not exactly a sympathetic father, you know? If they stay with the Bunnings, I’ll be somewhere close by and try to rebuild some trust. It’ll be a long process, but I have to start somewhere.”

Jake sipped his tea and had no response. Some farmers in overalls made a noisy entrance and assumed a table they seemed to own.

“Recognize anybody?” Mack whispered.

“Not a soul. I’m constantly amazed at the number of people I don’t know in this county of thirty thousand people.”

It took the same waitress about fifteen seconds to fire up the farmers, and they were soon complaining about the service. She retreated to the kitchen. Someone mentioned last night’s Cardinals game and baseball became the topic.

Mack listened and smiled and said, “You know, Jake, at times it’s hard to believe I’m back. For the first year or two down there I never thought about coming back. I tried to erase the past, but the longer I was away the more homesick I became. I was in a fishing camp one time, in Belize, and I saw a guy wearing an Auburn cap. It was in October, I suddenly missed the football games at Ole Miss. The tailgating in the Grove. The parties before and after the games. I missed my friends from those days, and I really missed my mother. We began writing letters. I was careful and routed them through Panama. It was so good to hear from home. The more I read her letters, the more I knew I had to come back.”

“How’d you find out Lisa was sick?”

“Someone told Mom. There’s a family friend from Greenwood with a connection to Clanton. Some of the news filtered through.”

The waitress placed two large platters in front of them. Steaming bowls, each with enough stew for a small family, and thick wedges of cornbread slathered with butter. They forgot about any conversation and began eating. The table next to them filled with some locals, one of whom took a long look at Mack, then lost interest.

When they finished lunch, they paid at the front counter. Mack left his Volvo at the Sawdust. Jake drove fifteen minutes to Clanton, and as they approached the square he asked, “So, what are your thoughts right now? Nostalgia? Relief? Any excitement at being back?”

“None of the above. Certainly no fond memories. I was unhappy here, left at the age of forty-two because I couldn’t stomach the thought of living the same life until I was sixty or seventy.”

“I’ve had those thoughts.”

“Of course you have. Everyone does. And there’s no end in sight because you can’t retire, can’t afford to.”

“You want to see your old office?”

“No. What is it now?”

“A yogurt shop. Frozen yogurt. Not bad.”

“I’d rather avoid that end of the square.”

Jake parked on a side street. They ducked into an alley and within seconds opened the rear door that entered into his kitchen. The front door of the office was locked, per Jake’s orders. Alicia stood and smiled but did not introduce herself. Again, at Jake’s orders. She was not to mention the name of Mack Stafford. She nodded to the closed door of the small downstairs conference room.

Mack walked to it and took a deep breath.





(22)


Margot was standing at the window, looking through the blinds. She did not turn around when he entered. She seemed not to hear him at all.

Mack closed the door, walked toward her, and stopped a few feet away. He was prepared for an awkward hug, then an hour of even more awkward conversation. He was prepared for tears and apologies and he was hoping for a little forgiveness.

She was much taller and had long dark hair that fell to her shoulders. She was still lean. Lisa had always refused to gain a pound and was a stickler for what the girls ate. The discipline was paying off because Margot, at least from a side view, looked older than seventeen.