Dovetail(13)

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, miss,” he said, smiling in her direction.

Pearl dipped her knee into a slight curtsy, something that usually charmed the local boys, but John’s attention was already back to Alice, and he was asking her how she’d managed to cook such a sumptuous meal all by herself. “I don’t think I’m deserving of such a feast.”

Alice blushed. “We’re so happy you could come and help Father at the mill. We wanted to welcome you with our best to show our appreciation.”

“I thank you for it,” he said.

“She didn’t do it all by herself,” Pearl interjected, wanting to set the record straight. “I chopped the vegetables.”

Alice said, “That’s true. She did all that and more. I couldn’t have done half of it without Pearl.” She slung an arm around her sister’s shoulder and pulled her close, their faces aligned, Alice’s glistening with a sheen from cooking over a hot stove, the kerchief still securely around her head, and Pearl’s freshly powdered, her hair swept up, some tendrils escaping to trail over her shoulders.

Dear Alice. Always willing to give Pearl just what she needed. John gave Pearl an appraising look, as if he now saw her with new eyes. He leaned forward slightly, a bow in response to her earlier curtsy. “Well, then, I guess my gratitude goes to you as well, Miss Pearl.”





CHAPTER SEVEN





1983


Joe watched from the front window as Howard and Pearl climbed into the sedan. Pearl didn’t look nearly as formidable from this distance. Her hard-backed posture seemed less imposing as he watched her navigating her way into the front seat, lifting one leg at a time. Once the door slammed shut, they were off, the car surging forward. Joe speculated that Howard really wanted to get back before there was trouble. As the taillights faded in the distance, he stepped away, letting the curtain drop back into place.

The empty house had an air of abandonment, the silence quieter than he’d ever known. He’d hated Trendale, the constant noise, the flickering fluorescent lights, the way he was always accountable. He could never get away from their watchful eyes. The staff monitored his eating habits, his energy level, his mood. It was exhausting trying to anticipate what they wanted from him, but he kept doing it, hoping at some point he’d fulfill their requirements so he could leave. Now, having left, he felt a bit empty.

Was it a mistake to leave? No, he decided. Being here was weird, and finding out the grandmother he’d thought was dead was alive was weirder still, but he could handle it.

It was only for a night.

Having Pearl ditch him had thrown him for a loop. He didn’t have a good sense of where Pullman was exactly, and not knowing was a little troubling, but the house had a working phone and supposedly some food in the fridge. In the morning, he’d talk to his dad and know more.

Joe thought about his friends back home. Most of them had gone to college, including his high school girlfriend, who he’d heard was now engaged. Their lives had taken such divergent paths. He’d dated other women, but nothing ever came of any of it. One of them, Darlene, said he always seemed distracted, like he was trying to remember something or his mind was elsewhere. He didn’t know what she meant, but after that, he’d tried to be more attentive. Still, things had fizzled between them. Relationships were so much work.

He had better luck with guy friends. One of his buddies, Wayne, had gotten Joe a job at the construction company where he was employed. Joe had picked up a lot of carpentry skills on the job and was glad to get a paycheck during this terrible economy. A lot of guys weren’t so fortunate. The job market was bleak, and it was nearly impossible to find anything at all. Now that he was out of Trendale, he’d have to go begging to see if they’d take him back. Likely he’d been replaced a long time ago. The fact that he’d left without giving notice was not in his favor either. It was doubtful that they’d give him another chance.

Joe was sure to find something, though. Even if it meant flipping burgers at McDonald’s. He shuddered at the thought, then put it out of his mind. That was a problem for another day.

He walked around the house, turning on lights in each room. The place was huge, but each room was modest in size, no bigger than the rooms at his own family’s house. The tall ceilings and large windows gave the illusion of more space; the illumination from the hanging light fixtures cast creepy shadows.

Some of the rooms were completely empty of furniture; others were furnished, with each piece covered in a sheet or blanket. The bookcases were, for the most part, empty, but there were still paintings and framed family photos on the walls. It was as if someone had started packing up the house to move but had gotten interrupted and never quite finished. Joe stopped in the hallway to inspect a photo of two young parents and a little boy. The woman sat ramrod-straight, wearing a high-collared blouse and a long pleated skirt. With a start, Joe realized the woman was Pearl in her younger days, which meant the father in the picture was his grandfather and the little boy, a toddler dressed in a sailor suit, his own father.

Now that he thought about it, he’d never seen a photo of his father as a child.

Joe took the framed photo off the wall and flipped it over, but there was nothing written on the back. Turning it back around, he examined each face. Pearl had been a stunner back in the day. Hollywood glamorous. Even in the black-and-white photo, it was easy to see her white hair had once been golden blonde. Her husband too was good-looking, broad-shouldered, tall, and clean-shaven, with slicked-back hair. The boy, his own father, sat on Pearl’s lap, his hand wrapped around one of her fingers. The man, his father’s father, stood behind them, one hand on his wife’s shoulder. He looked proud, Joe thought. Both the father and the son gazed adoringly at Pearl, but she looked straight ahead at the camera, her chin tipped upward, her lips curved into a satisfied smile.