Dovetail: A Novel(20)

By the time Alice had put the last dish away and Pearl had hung up the dish towels, the sun had started to lower in the sky and Mrs. Donohue was saying goodbye, eager to leave before it got too dark.

They were all out on the porch when Howie drove the wagon around to the front of the house, his mare stepping brightly, glad to be going home. Mr. Bennett helped Howie’s mother up to her seat, and the girls waved goodbye.

The family and John Lawrence were still on the porch when they heard the roar of a motor coming down the road. Their heads turned collectively. They were amazed to see such a rare thing, an actual automobile, with Alice’s admirer, Frank, at the wheel.

The black Model T came to a stop in front of them. Frank swung the door open and bellowed, “Will you take a look at this!” Mae and Maude ran forward to admire the new automobile while Daisy remained next to Alice, her hand clutching her older sister’s skirt. Even their old dog, Shep, was curious. He came trotting out from behind the barn to check out the ruckus.

“Were you expecting Frank to come calling this evening?” Mr. Bennett asked his oldest daughter, his voice subdued compared to the hubbub in the front yard.

Alice shook her head. “No. In fact, I have asked him many times not to come.” She folded her arms. “He never listens.”





CHAPTER ELEVEN





1983


“Wait. Let me make sure I heard you right,” Joe said, then repeated Pearl’s words back to her. “You killed someone but not on purpose?”

“That’s right,” she said. The horrified look on his face made her sorry she’d even brought it up. Ancient history, that’s what it was, and nothing she could take back at this point. Obviously, Joe was the type who would hold it against her. Maybe all Arneson men were the same.

“What does that mean?”

“It means there was a death, and your father thought I was responsible.”

Joe mulled this over for a second. “Were you responsible?”

She sensed there was a lot riding on her answer. He could bolt out of here, just like his father did so many years ago. “I don’t know. That’s for the good Lord to decide. When I meet him—if I meet him—I’m sure he’ll let me know.” Mentioning God was a smart strategy, she thought. The association of a higher power was a good one. It made her look humble.

“So what happened?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not tell you just yet. I want you to get to know me first before you hear about the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’ve long believed that no one should be judged on the worst thing they’ve ever done. And not on the best thing either, for that matter.” She sighed. “Human beings are much more complex than one event that happened on one day in a very long life.”

He nodded as if it made sense.

“I would guess your father is not worried about your safety here. If he really thought I was a murderer, I doubt he’d have let you stay.”

“You’re probably right.”

“So we can assume I’m harmless enough.” The comment made him smile. She was winning him over. “If you work for me this summer, and I hope you do, we’ll have time to get to know each other.”

“If I work for you this summer, would I be staying here, in this house?”

“Yes.”

“Alone? No one else will be here?”

She choked out a laugh. “That’s really up to you. I know I won’t be here, and as far as I know, the place isn’t haunted. Are you afraid to stay alone?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You can drop the ma’am. Pearl is fine.”

“No, I’m not afraid to stay alone. Just trying to figure it all out before I make a commitment.”

“This sounds like I’ll need another cup of coffee.” She got up and poured herself another one, then sat back down. “Okay, shoot. Next question.”

“What would I be doing? Specifically, I mean? I know you said to empty the house and get it ready to sell, but I’m not sure what’s involved in doing all that.”

Pearl leaned over to pick up her purse, pulled out a folder, and handed it to him. The outside of the folder was labeled with her name, the address of the house, and her contact information at Pine Ridge Hollow. Inside were forms giving him permission to hire others on her behalf and to conduct business with a resale shop in town called Secondhand Heaven. Another few pages had the contact information for a lawn service, gutter cleaning company, housecleaning business, pest control company, and painter. The last page detailed how much he would be paid. She saw his eyes widen when he got to that part. Fifteen dollars an hour for forty hours a week for a term of ten weeks. Double what he would have made in construction, and more than four times the minimum wage.

“You were pretty sure I’d do this,” he said after a few minutes of reading through the paperwork. “My name is printed here.” He tapped on one of the sheets.

“I wasn’t entirely sure. Hoping is more like it, I guess,” Pearl said. “I need this done, and I want to see it happen before I leave this big, bad world. I have a will, and my wishes for how my health should be handled at the end are very clear. This house, though—it’s a sticking point. I’d like to see it cleaned out and sold. And if I can get acquainted with my grandson at the same time, all the better.”