Yes ma’am.
I mean it. You have to take care of yourself.
I will.
All right. We need to go. She went around and climbed into the cab. The two girls stood facing him and Emma was already crying. She hugged him quickly around the waist and ran and climbed up into the truck and buried her face in her mother’s lap.
I’ll write you, Dena said. Don’t forget.
I won’t.
She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek, then stood back and looked at him, and he stood watching her, his hands in his pockets, looking forlorn and desolate already, and then she turned and got into the truck. The truck started up and she sat at the window, lifting her hand, waving slightly, whispering good-bye to him, and he stood on the curb until they had pulled away and had turned the corner and disappeared.
After they were gone he went up on the porch and looked through the front window. All empty inside, it looked strange to him now. He walked around behind into the alley past the widows’ houses and the vacant lot and his grandfather’s house.
THE LITTLE WOODEN SHED WAS DIM AND FILLED WITH shadows. He lit one of the candles and sat down at the table, looking around at the dark back wall and the shelf. The candlelight was flickering and dancing on the walls. There was little to see. The framed picture of the baby Jesus hanging on the wall. Some of their board games. Old plates and pieces of silverware in a box. It didn’t feel good in the shed without her. Nothing there was the same. He whistled through his teeth, softly, a tune he thought of. Then he stopped. He stood and blew out the candle and went outside and fastened the latch. He stood looking for a long time at the old abandoned house across the backyard grown up in weeds, the old black Desoto rusting among the bushes. Then he entered the alley once more. Night was falling. He’d have to go home and make supper. His grandfather would be waiting. It was already past the hour at which his grandfather wanted his supper.
45
ON A WARM WINDLESS AFTERNOON ROSE TYLER STOPPED at the trailer on Detroit Street and honked and waited, and after a while Luther and Betty Wallace stepped out onto the porch. Luther lifted his hand to shade his eyes, then he removed a washrag from the pocket of his sweatpants and dabbed at his eyes, and afterward put the rag away and took Betty by the arm and led her down the porch steps out along the dirt path to the car at the edge of the weeds. They got in and Rose drove them across town. Everything’s going to be all right, she said. Try not to worry.
The woman was wearing an apron when she let them in. Hello, Rose said. We’re here.
Come in, the woman said.
This is Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.
I’ve been expecting you. How do you do.
How do you do, ma’am, Luther said. He shook her hand. Betty shook hands, but said nothing.
Please come in. I’ll go get Joy Rae and Richie.
The Wallaces entered her house as if they were entering some formal place where circumspection was the custom. They sat together on the couch. She got a nice house here, don’t she, Luther said. Real nice.
Rose sat down across from them, and presently the woman brought their children out from the back room. They stood beside her and glanced once shyly at their parents, then looked away. Their clothes appeared to have been freshly washed and ironed, and Joy Rae’s bangs were trimmed in a straight line across her forehead.
You can sit there with your mother and father, the woman said. She gave them a little push.
The children sat down on the couch next to Betty. They didn’t say anything. They seemed to be much embarrassed by the occasion. Betty took Joy Rae’s hand and pulled her close and kissed her face and then leaned across and kissed Richie. Both children sat back and wiped at their faces and looked out into the room.
The woman excused herself to go into the kitchen, and Rose stood up. I’m going to leave you too. You’ll want to catch up a little, by yourselves, won’t you. Then she followed the woman into the kitchen.
You look so nice, honey, Betty told Joy Rae. Did you get your hair cut?
Yes.
It looks so nice. Did she cut it for you?
She cut it last week.
Well, it looks real nice on you. And how you been doing, Richie?
Okay.
What you been doing with yourself?
Reading.
Is it a book from school?
No, it’s from church. They said I could keep it.
And I guess you been playing with other kids?
Sometimes we have.
Then the front door opened. Two young girls in bright dresses came in and stopped and stood looking at the Wallace family and then went on to the back of the house.
Who’s that? Betty whispered.
Her other ones.
Her other foster kids?
We don’t see them much, Joy Rae said. They don’t want nothing to do with us.
ROSE CAME BACK IN AND THE WOMAN FOLLOWED HER WITH a plate of cookies and set the plate on the side table.
Joy Rae, the woman said, why don’t you ask your parents if they would like a cookie. And Richie, would you pass around these napkins.
The children rose and did as they were asked.
Would you care for some tea? the woman said.
Oh, no thank you, ma’am, Luther said. We’re doing pretty good just the way we are.
They all sat and ate the cookies and tried to think what there was to say.
Finally Luther leaned forward on the couch toward the woman. My eyes been burning me some, he said. I reckon I got me some kind of eye infection. Might be pinkeye. I don’t know what it is. He took a bite of his cookie and set what was left of it on a napkin on the arm of the couch and pulled out the washrag from his pocket and dabbed at his weepy eyes. And my wife, he said, her stomach’s been acting up again on her too. Ain’t it, dear? Acting up bad.
It’s been acting up real bad, Betty said. She laid her hand over her stomach and massaged at a place under her breasts.
We’ll make appointments for both of you to see the doctor, Rose said. It’s time again, isn’t it.
When you think that’ll be? Luther said.
As soon as I can get you in. I’ll call yet today.
I don’t want to see that same doctor I seen the last time, Betty said. I don’t want to see him again ever.
He ain’t never done you no good, has he, Luther said.
He give me some pills. That’s bout all he ever did.
We’ll see, Rose said. I’ll try to get you in to see Dr. Martin. You’ll like him better.
Then they fell again into an awkward silence.
Joy Rae, the woman said, why don’t you see if your parents are ready for another cookie.
I could stand me another one, Luther said. How bout you, dear?
If it don’t grip my stomach too much, Betty said.
Joy Rae stood in front of each of them offering the plate of cookies and then set it down and returned to the couch and sat beside her brother and put her arm around him. The little boy moved closer to her and laid his head on her shoulder, as if there were nothing else to do in such circumstances.
46
SHE CALLED RAYMOND IN THE LATE AFTERNOON AND HE was still outside. She called him again an hour later and he had come up from the horse barn by that time in the lowering afternoon sun, and he picked up the phone. I want to go out for dinner, she said.