The Devil Has Dimples Read online

  “So you’re the woman who professes to be Maudie Cooper’s daughter?”

  I stared at the brilliant blue eyes before me. As I watched, he took a small tablet and pen from his pocket, then looked expectantly at me.

  “Well, is it true?”

  Grant released his hand from mine and faced the intruder.

  “Sara, I would like to introduce T-Jack Couvillion, chief gossipmonger and self-deluded newspaperman. T-Jack, this is Sara Elizabeth McLaughlin, Maudie Cooper’s natural daughter.”

  “Maudie never told anyone she had a daughter,” T-Jack replied, a suspicious look in his eyes.

  “She told me, and that’s all that counts. Now if you don’t mind we are trying to eat dinner.”

  As if on cue, Naomi walked up and placed salad plates in front of us along with a container holding several bottles of salad dressing, grabbed up the soup bowls and left in a hurry.

  “But, this is news,” T-Jack said.

  “No, it’s not news. It’s an item of interest only. Now, please, we’re trying to eat.”

  I interrupted. “Why would it be news?”

  “Well dang, girl, no one knew Maudie Cooper had a daughter. Where have you been all this time? Why didn’t anyone know? How did Maudie keep a secret like this from everyone? Who’s your daddy? Why are you here? Are you staying at her place? Are you going to live here? Dang, girl, I need some answers...” His voice became higher and higher with each question. T-Jack gripped his pen over his tablet and waited for me to speak.

  Overwhelmed, I sat there with my mouth slightly open, my eyes focused on T-Jack in amazement. “I can’t believe you asked me all that.”

  “I need answers, girl. I have a deadline.”

  Grant pulled T-Jack’s pen from his hand and stuck it back in his pocket.

  “We’re eating now. Your deadline isn’t until Wednesday. Give her a chance to rest and question her tomorrow at the store. She’ll talk to you then. Good-bye.”

  Grant picked up his salad fork, speared a chunk of tomato, and put it in his mouth.

  “Okay.” T-Jack stood, grabbed his tablet, and replaced it in his pocket. He grinned broadly, winked at Grant, and said to me, “See you in the morning. I’ll have thought of some more questions by then. Man, is this going to be the scoop of the decade.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he jauntily marched across the Hole and left.

  “Well, you’ve met Boggy Bayou’s answer to the roving news correspondent.”

  I placed a hand over my heart, now beating a mile a minute. “I never had anyone ask me so many questions at once. He must drink way too much caffeine.”

  Grant laughed at my remark, then added, “You’re lucky. He also handles any big court cases we might have, and it’s downright embarrassing the questions he asks.”

  “Does he get answers to his questions?”

  “Sometimes.” Grant gazed at me speculatively.

  “Then maybe he can answer some of my questions.” I smiled, and grabbing my fork, cheerfully dug into my salad.

  Frowning, Grant stated, “Or he might bring up questions that no one has the answers for.”

  We ate in silence. My mind was reeling with questions that I had of my own. The main reason being ‘why?’

  Naomi breezed up to the table with a tray, removed the salad plates, then laid huge platters of thickly sliced ham, smothered potatoes with onions, and green beans with crumbled up bacon pieces in front of us. She hesitated a second, then asked, “Y’all need anything else?”

  Grant rubbed his hands together expectantly. “Just some more iced tea to wash it down.”

  “Gotcha.” Naomi turned and waved her backside as she went to do his bidding.

  “Did you order the oil rigger special?” I asked.

  “Nah, just the regular blue plate special.”

  “The plate isn’t blue.”

  “It would clash with the ham.”

  “Oh, how true. I may be eating ham for breakfast.”

  “Remember, you’re supposed to be fixing me breakfast in the morning.”

  “Well, if you want any ham, don’t eat all yours tonight. Because I’m not sharing.” With that, I picked up my knife and fork and started to cut into the thick slab of meat.

  “Here you go, kids.” Naomi filled our tea glasses from a pitcher. She continued to stand there.

  Grant gave me a quizzical look.

  Naomi’s gaze dropped to her hands, then at me. “If you’re really Maudie’s daughter, she would be proud of how pretty you are.” Abruptly she turned around and jerkily stalked off.

  I blushed redder than a newly boiled crawfish.

  Grant paused, then said. “You are pretty, and Maudie loved pretty.”

  “Oh.” I sat there trying to regain normality by ignoring everything around me.

  He thought I was pretty.

  * * *

  We silently walked back to the antique store. I inserted the key into the lock and stepped inside. Grant was locking the door behind me when I noticed an attractive picture frame resting on a cherry wood table. Striding to it, I stopped and picked it up. The frame was gorgeous. Art Nouveau in style, and by the weight, silver, though slightly tarnished. The workmanship was fabulous. Then I looked at the picture.

  The blood in my body pooled to my feet in one instant.

  “Oh, my!”

  I shakily sat on a side chair, the frame in my hands, unsteady.

  Grant reached over and took it from my hands. “This is a great frame.”

  “The...picture.”

  “Yeah, a cute kid.”

  “It’s me.”

  “What’s you?”

  “Me. The picture is of me.”

  “Are you sure? This kid is about five or so.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. This is me. I’ve never seen this particular picture, but I’m positive it’s me. That was a favorite dress of mine.”

  “Well, you were a cute kid.” He placed the frame back on the table.

  “That’s not the point, Grant. How did Maudie get a picture of me I’ve never seen before, and why is it in this frame, in her store?”

  Rubbing his fingers through his hair, Grant sounded exasperated. “You’ve got me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused. It’s been a terribly long day and I...”

  Something inside me collapsed. I placed my hands over my face and began to sob.

  Kneeling down beside me, Grant wrapped his arms around me. “Hey, Sara, it’s not that bad. You’ll find the answers.” He stroked my hair with one hand, comforting me.

  “It’s been a tough day for you. Let’s go upstairs so that you can relax,” he said softly.

  Stifling a sob, I dug in my purse for a hankie and came out with Grant’s pink one. Wiping my tears away, I grinned half-heartedly at him and nodded.

  We both stood. I took one last look at my picture and touched the frame with my forefinger.

  “Maybe she really did care,” I whispered.

  * * *

  June 16, 1990

  I found her today.

  My sweet, sweet child.

  How I longed to run up to her and hold her in my arms. But I’ll be smarter this time. They can’t run off and hide her from me again.

  I bought a camera with a zoom lens so I could take her picture, even if it’s from a great distance.

  Will I ever be able to hold her again? Probably not.

  I should have kept her.

  If only I had.

  If only I had.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I was embarrassed by my emotional display. I never cried in front of strangers. Family, either, for that matter. Yet, today I cried in front of a stranger, twice. He must really think me an overwrought goober. I was glad to be hiding in Maudie’s bedroom. Mine now.

  Opening my suitcase, I barked out a laugh. I must have really been out of it this afternoon when I read the letter. All I packed were a bra, three pairs of panties, two socks that didn’t match, my college oversized
t-shirt, an orange pair of shorts, my lab coat and my sneakers. What was I thinking?

  I wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. My emotions had been on overload ever since I opened that letter. I’d returned that morning from a workshop in Shreveport, and when I decided to come to Boggy Bayou, I dumped the contents and repacked. I needed to make a list. Organize my thoughts. Organize my life. Find out what happened and get out of here in six weeks or less. Yes, I could do that.

  Donning my t-shirt and shorts, I walked to the bathroom, and, after checking the medicine cabinet, found a new toothbrush and brushed my teeth. It was a good thing I always carried the basic makeup in my purse, else I’d be without eyebrows tomorrow.

  The bed was comfortable, the night clear. I could see the stars in the sky above me which resembled the one time I went camping in the backyard when I was a kid. Strange how you see things so differently when you are a child.

  Everything is so black and white when you’re young. It’s only later when you can see the various shades of gray. The darkness that life can sometimes bring you.

  I shut my eyes and rolled over, wanting to be home, if only I knew where home was. The home I grew up in was on the seller’s block. It was way too large, plus it had never felt like a home. I wondered if I would ever feel comfortable enough in a place to call it home. I snuggled deeper into the comfort of the bed and wished.

  * * *

  Bright sunshine woke me up. There was no way a body could sleep late with the sun poking you in the eye through the skylight. Thank heavens, I didn’t have a hangover.

  I dragged myself to the bathroom and, after looking at myself in the mirror, I wondered again who I was. I felt so different, as though the face in the mirror was a stranger’s. I brushed my fingers across my cheekbone. Just who did I look like? I didn’t notice a picture of Maudie anywhere, but Grant might have one.

  I found him in front of the refrigerator, those tight buns tempting as heck, as he bent over to reach something in the back. I watched him for several seconds as he scrounged around in the refrigerator, finally he straightened and brought an orange juice container to his mouth and drank straight from the carton.

  “Remind me not to drink the juice.”

  Grant jumped at my remark and had the grace to turn around and look at me sheepishly. “Sorry. Maudie avoided orange juice, so it’s mine. Or was mine.”

  We continued to look at each other briefly. I turned my glance away first. There was something in his eyes that unsettled me. It was as if he could see deep inside me and knew all my secrets.

  “So, tell me, why are you renting a room?”

  Grant replaced the cap on the carton and put the juice back into the refrigerator. He walked to the living room and flung himself into an overstuffed chair.

  He indicated that I should sit, so I did.

  “My mother died when I was thirteen.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, she died suddenly. But I miss her. To this day, I miss her.”

  I knew how that could feel...to love someone so much, you missed them for years. When my father died, I was stunned by the suddenness of it. Then being sent to a distant boarding school so that my mother wouldn’t be bothered by raising me hurt. It hurt more than I was willing to admit.

  I drew my legs up on the chair and hugged them. “Yes, I can understand that.”

  Grant frowned, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t understand why my father remarried just three months after she died.”

  A pain stabbed my heart. Another man who cheats. I’d had enough of one to last me a lifetime. That’s why I can’t stand jocks. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh! I was incensed. At my father, my mother for dying when I needed her, the world in general. I started to get into trouble and then Maudie stepped in.”

  I dug my fingernails into my legs. “What did she do?”

  Grant gave me a grim smile. “She rescued a scared, rebellious, terrified kid and made a man out of him.”

  He was definitely a man. “How?”

  “First she got my father to agree to let me live here. She gave him some cock-and-bull story about being afraid of staying here alone and hired me to sleep at night. The deal was I was to be here at closing time, eat dinner and sleep. Saturday, I helped her in the store and did deliveries. Sundays, however, I stayed at home until dark then came here. It gave my father and stepmother a relief from my hate, and gave Maudie time to defuse that hate and turn it into something else.”

  So he was friends with Maudie, was that the reason he was rather cold to me at times? I wondered. “That was kind of her.”

  “Kind...it depends. I was rebellious. It’s a wonder she didn’t throw me off the balcony and say good riddance. I was testing everyone until she made me see the light.”

  “How did she do that?”

  There was a long hesitation, Grant looked everywhere but at me. Almost as if he was afraid to say the words. “With love.”

  I didn’t expect that. “Love?”

  “Yes. After one Sunday at home, I came here and was madder than ever, Maudie just came up to me and wrapped her arms around me and began to cry.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “I don’t know. She just held me and then I started to cry. We both cried for a long time. Then after giving me a great big hug she laughed and said how silly we were to not accept life for what it was, difficult. She patted my face and said that she loved me, and I knew that she loved me and that was all that mattered in life, that someone loved you even though you had faults. I wasn’t angry at my father anymore, and while I’m still not comfortable around my stepmother, I am courteous in her presence.”

  “Then what?”

  “Oh, the usual. High school. I went off to college, but came here for summer breaks. Got married, got divorced, and since my ex-wife wanted everything, I just gave her the house, the car, the dog, even the water hose.” He gave me that killer grin again.

  I had to ask. “The water hose?”

  “It’s so funny. When she started to argue over the water hose, I just gave up and let her have everything.”

  He laughed.

  “Then, since I didn’t have a home anymore, it seemed so logical to stay here. Maudie never indicated that she wanted to be alone...and I feel at home here. In fact, it is home.”

  Standing up, he walked into his bedroom and came back a moment later with a wad of bills in his hand. He held them out to me.

  “Rent.”

  Rent. He was giving me rent? “What do you mean?”

  “I owe Maudie for the past month. Here it is.”

  I didn’t know if I should take it or not, but he pushed it into my hand.

  “Maudie always marked it on the calendar when I paid her, in case I ever forgot.”

  I looked over to the calendar that was hanging in the kitchen by the phone and reluctantly got up.

  He glanced at his watch. “I have to go run, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  He hesitated. “Would you like to come?”

  I had to laugh. Me, run? Not likely in this lifetime. “I don’t own running shoes and never will.”

  He grinned. “Not the athletic type?”

  “Shopping is all the exercise I ever need.”

  He frowned. “Oh.”

  So the man had issues with that.

  Tough. I wonder what he would think if he knew I loved to shop in grocery stores.

  He started his arm stretches as he walked away from me.

  I looked around the room. Yes, it was a home. But did I fit in here?

  Walking over to the calendar, I grabbed a pen from a coffee cup by the phone and marked down that the rent was paid. That was good, as I needed to buy some new clothes. I stuffed the money in my shorts.

  Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out eggs, cheese, some wilted green onions, salsa and began preparations for a Spanish omelet. I was surprised. It seems that Grant at least fixed breakfast here. He sai
d that I would be busy today at the store. In that case I could fix some tongue-loosening bait. Searching the cabinets, I found the ingredients that I was looking for, and what I couldn’t find, I could improvise. It was time to get down to basics.

  Grant arrived thirty minutes later. Bringing a friend.

  A woman friend.

  I envied her on sight. She was everything I wasn’t. A few inches shorter than I, she probably never got called a beanpole in her life. Dark glossy hair held in place with a headband, elegant bone structure. She looked fantastic without makeup. Plus the clincher, she didn’t sweat.

  She glared me. She made Alice look like my best friend.

  Grant made introductions. “Sara, this is my running buddy, Tina. Tina, this is Maudie’s daughter.”

  She looked at me up and down and certainly didn’t like what she saw, if her curled lip was any indication.

  “Maudie’s bastard. How interesting.”

  I was stunned.

  Bastard!

  I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so angry so fast. I could feel the blood rush into my face and my hands tightened into fists.

  “Get out.”

  She put on an innocent face and placed her hand on her heart, like I injured her feelings. “Excuse me?”

  I thought I would explode. “I said ‘Get out.’ I don’t think it’s that hard to understand.”

  Grant touched her arm. “You better leave.”

  She flowed into his arms. How sweet. She was definitely more than a “running buddy.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s the truth.” She simpered. She actually simpered. How do women practice that maneuver? She needed some lessons in reality.

  I walked over to them, and she looked up at me. Sometimes it’s so great to have people have to look up at you. I smiled. “If you’re not out of here in one minute, I’ll throw you out myself.”

  I walked into my bedroom and slammed the door as hard as I could. Yeah, I know. Childish, but it felt awfully good.

  I went into the bathroom and got dressed. It was time for battle mode.