The Saints of Swallow Hill(96)

Cornelia jumped up, grabbed Rae Lynn’s hands, and spun them around and around the room. Rae Lynn giggled at the playful, unexpected reaction, and when Cornelia let her go and swirled away in a circle dance of her own, Rae Lynn was overcome by a sense of peace and the thought, We get to stay, we get to stay.

Summer gave one last belch of hot air in early October, the gift of an “Indian summer.” Fall crept in almost quiet-like until Rae Lynn noticed how they awoke some mornings with a nip in the air. Before long, the leaves adorning oaks, acorn, and sweet gum showed off their vivid reds, oranges, and yellows. With time, the events at Swallow Hill took on a dreamlike quality, some of the details becoming as faded as their sun-dried clothes. Not the ones of Warren, though. They remained sharp and clear in her mind, as prominent as Sudie May’s growing belly. In spite of it all, Rae Lynn became more like herself. Much of this had to do with Del’s sister. She was a rhythmic sort in spite of her pregnancy, up at the same time each morning and doing what tasks Rae Lynn or Cornelia allowed. Most of the time they made her sit, and worked around her. Rae Lynn loved the routine of running a household, the day-to-day steady schedule, no surprises, rarely any change with given days of the week set aside for certain chores, including certain meals.

She and Cornelia earned their keep, having turned the garden over to fall plantings, the final summer vegetables canned and shelved. They gathered eggs, while Sudie May mended everyone’s shirts, pants, and dresses. They cooked meals, did the laundry, while Sudie May helped Norma and Joey with schoolwork in the afternoons. She and Cornelia worked together like they had in Swallow Hill, and before too long, it was as if they’d always been there, both having adapted to life at the big farmhouse. Sudie May read to them from the newspapers, mostly about the prices of staples they might need and if there were specials. The news with regard to the economy was still dire, and the country appeared to want Hoover to lose to Roosevelt.

In the evenings, Rae Lynn withdrew to her room at the top of the stairs and next to Cornelia’s. On the opposite side were Amos and Sudie May’s, then the children, who shared a room for now, and Del’s room was last, centered in the long hall. She still couldn’t quite get used to being in such close proximity to him, and they often ran into each other in the hallway on the way to bed. He kept mostly to himself, and whatever had been in his eyes the day she’d decided they would stay must have had to do with what his sister wanted. Rae Lynn was aware he spent his days in the woods raking and clearing out around the longleaf in preparation for the next year. Sometimes she caught the smell of smoke where he was burning off scrub and underbrush, a way of controlling any unnecessary growth that might take from the pines. It reminded her of working with Warren, and there was a longing in her to be under the shelter of those trees again, to smell their sharp, crisp scent.

One Sunday evening, she was on the porch with Sudie May and Cornelia, and she spotted Del weaving his way through the woods. When there was no work going on, he would do this, going the same way each time.

Sudie May watched him thoughtfully and said, “I reckon he’s trying to make up for lost time. Mother and Pap, they sure did want him to come home something fierce.”

Rae Lynn said, “Where does he go?”

“To their graves. He gets flowers from out of the yard for the headstones each week.”

Rae Lynn watched Del until he disappeared, before nudging her chair back into motion again. She’d abandoned Warren, stuck him in the ground like he meant nothing to her. The spot was likely neglected, pitiful looking, overgrown with weeds. Warren didn’t even have a headstone to mark where he lay. Time had calmed her fears. She thought maybe she ought to go see about his grave. But, if she went, she might get caught . . . no. She wouldn’t get caught. She would be careful. Besides, she didn’t know what had happened to the place since she’d left. For all she knew, it was abandoned. Eugene certainly wouldn’t live there. He’d have sold it, if anything, and gone back to South Carolina. She rocked faster. The more she thought on it, the more she believed no one would be the wiser. It was the only way to put her mind at ease.

The day before she planned to go, she worked all afternoon on a chocolate pie using one of Sudie May’s recipes. After she put it in the oven to bake, she busied herself cleaning the kitchen, then went outside to sweep off the porch. Lost in thought, she pictured herself seeing the little shotgun house under the pines for the first time in months. She replayed the moment in her head over and over, how it would make her feel, how she’d handle it. She sat in a rocker, shut her eyes, and went from room to room in her head. She completely forgot about the pie until she smelled it and by then, dark smoke was coming out kitchen window. She ran back inside, pulled it from the oven, and went about throwing open more windows. Sudie May came from some other part of the house and started flapping a dish towel, trying to clear the air. Cornelia ran in from the field where she’d been digging up new potatoes, a scared look on her face.

She rushed in breathless, declaring, “Law, I thought the house was burning down.”

They stood in the hazy kitchen, and Cornelia scrutinized the blackened edges of the crust, the smoldering chocolate pudding, and finally, Rae Lynn.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You been kind of quiet lately.”

Rae Lynn coughed, the burned stinky smell getting to her.