He Started It(8)
“Take off your shoe,” I say to Portia. “Let me see if it’s swollen.”
She does and it is. We’ll need to get ice and some kind of wrap, and I give her some ibuprofen for the pain. I’m so absorbed in making this mental list—and trying to forget my hands are still shaking a little from the accident—that I don’t hear the other car. Not until I see it drive up and stop.
A black pickup truck. Just like the one driving away from us a minute ago.
“You guys all right? Need any help?” the driver says. A young guy with yellow hair, a baseball cap, and a cigarette. The man in the passenger seat is older and heavyset with a full, greying beard. The truck is huge, with an extended cab, and a woman sits on the far side in the back. All I can see is her long auburn hair.
“It’s just a flat tire,” Felix says.
Eddie steps forward, his shoulders squared up. “We’re fine,” he says.
“You sure about that?” the older man says. He smiles at Eddie. “Because we’re pretty good with cars.” Although he offers to help, no one in the truck moves to get out of it.
“We’re good,” Eddie says.
“Was it you?”
Portia.
Up until this moment, she had been sitting in our car and resting her foot. Now she’s up and out, hobbling on one foot and giving the newcomers her best evil eye. “Were you the ones who ran us off the road?”
“Was it us?” the older man says. He laughs. The other two join in. “Honey, we were just passing by and stopped to see if we could help.”
“That’s not very hospitable,” the driver says. “We stop to help and you accuse us of trying to run you off the road.”
“Not very hospitable at all,” the older man says.
Krista’s out of the car now, hands on hips and her back arched, which can’t be a good sign. She’s one of those suburban women who have never seen real trouble and think it only happens on the Internet.
Eddie takes another step forward, his eyes never leaving the men in the truck.
Part of me wants to watch this play out, if only for my own amusement. The other part of me steps in front of Eddie. “Thanks,” I say to the older man. “We appreciate the offer, but we’re fine. The tire is almost changed.” I motion to Felix, who waves with the wrench in his hand.
Forget the villain. I’m the peacemaker.
The older man stares at me a bit too long. I smile and nod, smile and nod.
“All right, then,” he says. “Glad everyone’s okay.”
The truck moves forward and then turns around, driving back in the direction it came from.
“They turned around and came back,” Portia says. “It was them.”
No one confirms or denies that.
* * *
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“The Godfather,” Portia says. “I swear that guy was like the Alabama Godfather.”
“Pretty much,” Eddie says. “I’ll drink to that.”
We all laugh. We all drink.
A few hours have passed since our on-the-road incident. The rental has a new tire, the spare is back in place, and Krista has put makeup on her forehead. Portia’s ankle is wrapped and she’s wearing a new cheap pair of flip-flops.
The initial horror of the event has passed, dulled by time, by alcohol, by laughter. Same as anything else. You can’t stay that tense for too long, otherwise someone is going to get hurt.
Now that it’s over, and we’re safe, I find myself happy that Felix is here. So far, I haven’t been. He’s not supposed to be here, neither is Krista. It should’ve been just the siblings.
Not long after our conference with Grandpa’s lawyer, Eddie called and said Krista was coming with us. “We’ve been married six months,” he said. “I can’t just leave her to go on a road trip with you guys.”
“She can’t take care of herself?” I said.
Eddie sighed. A big, frustrated sigh like this was all my problem. “Look, I know you haven’t met her—”
“Whose fault is that?”
Silence. I had never met Krista because Eddie didn’t invite any of us to the wedding. He claimed it was a last-minute decision to go to city hall right before they took a trip to the mountains, but I suspect he didn’t want us there. Maybe because he cheated on his girlfriend and married the receptionist.
But I didn’t say any of that and he changed the subject.
“Bring Felix,” he said.
“That’s not the point.”
“We aren’t kids anymore, Beth. I’m a married man and I’m going to bring my wife.”
This is why I brought my husband. Because I’m a married woman and I should bring him with me. It also occurred to me that our spouses would keep things copacetic. Neutral. How bad can you really be when your spouse is around?
So far, I’m right and wrong. Today would have been much worse without Felix around to fix the car. Then again, if neither Krista nor Felix were with us, would Eddie have been as distracted while driving? No. Yes. Doesn’t matter now. You can only do mental gymnastics for so long before you go insane.
LOUISIANA
State Motto: Union, justice, and confidence