Authors: Aimee Love
Joe was taken aback by her vehemence.
“He calls his step-father Dad,” Joe told her.
“Well, you should take her to court. If you agreed to let her leave the state for one year and she’s been gone three
and
denied you visitation, you can sue for full custody.”
“They don’t take kids away from their mothers unless they’re in prison,” Joe told her. “Besides, she never denied me, she just has Jake get on the phone and beg to stay. She knows I’ll go along.”
“Just because you don’t think you’ll win, doesn’t mean you don’t fight,” Aubrey told him. Her voice softened. “Did all your digging into the Melungeon family tree turn up who my father is?” She asked him quietly.
Joe shook his head, bewildered by another sudden change in subject. He pulled onto a gravel road and slowed down. Behind them in the bed, Drake barked at a cow that was too close to the fence.
“That’s because senior year in high school, my mother told Grandpa she was going to visit Vina for Christmas and instead went with some hippie friends to see a music festival. She met a guy, had sex with him, and nine months later had me. Even though, as an adult, I can understand, I always blamed her for growing up without a father. If your wife keeps playing these games, your son is just as likely to end up hating her for driving you away as he is resenting you for not being around. You might try pointing that out to her.”
“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Joe admitted. He turned down an even more rutted gravel road and they came to an open gate with a boy sitting on it.
Joe reached out and handed the boy a five dollar bill.
“What kind of dog is that?” The boy asked, taking the money but focusing on Drake, who obligingly switched to that side of the bed and stared down at him regally.
“He’s Hungarian,” Joe said. “What’s on for tonight?”
The boy shrugged.
“I don’t guess he’s decided yet,” he told them. Another pick-up pulled up behind them and the boy waved them on.
“What is this place?” Aubrey asked, looking around. They followed the gravel track around a bend and came to a field full of cars all parked in neat rows. There were orange traffic cones set up at intervals to keep them in line. Joe backed in to a spot at the center of the line and turned off the engine.
“This is the Parrotsville drive-in,” he told her. “It opens every year on the first weekend in August and runs until the weather gets ugly.”
Aubrey noticed the screen, which looked like several king size white sheets sewn together, hanging between two trees. There was also a tiny two-story cinder block shed behind them that had signs to either side marked ‘ladies’ and ‘gentlemen’, and a window at the front that seemed to be doing a brisk business in concessions.
Joe got out and began arranging things in the bed of the truck. He set up the camp chairs with the cooler in front of them as a footrest so the beer would be handy, then he grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn from the Walmart bag and headed to the concession stand. Aubrey watched him pay the girl to pop it for him in a microwave, shaking her head in disbelief.
When he returned she asked, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Well,” Joe looked at the ground. “It’s kinda invitation only. It’s probably pretty illegal because he gets the movies from his son who’s stationed in Korea. They sell ‘em on DVD there as soon as they’re out in the theaters.”
“Are we going to get arrested for this?” She asked.
In answer, Joe pointed to a black pick-up parked a row in front of them and a few cars down. Aubrey recognized Deputy Larry sitting in the back with a woman she assumed was his wife.
Aubrey grinned. She decided it was nice to be included in a local tradition that didn’t involve beheadings or witches or prostitution.
“Okay,” she said, relenting. “So is that why everyone’s staring at us here, too? Because you brought a non-local? Did the people at Walmart know where we were heading?”
Joe shook his head and hopped up into the truck. He reached down, put his hands under her arms, and hoisted her up easily. Aubrey was grateful to be spared the indignity of having to clamber up the tailgate in her short sundress with so many eyes on her.
“So why?” She demanded, sitting down in one of the camp chairs and watching as Joe produced a beer and a tumbler from the cooler. He filled the cup with ice and then added bourbon and coke. He placed it in Aubrey’s cup holder and took the seat beside her.
“They just ain’t used to seein’ me with a woman is all,” Joe finally told her, his voice low enough that the people in the next cars couldn’t hear him.
Aubrey was taken aback, but suddenly she realized how strange it was. Joe was handsome, kind, easygoing, he had no temper she’d ever seen, he was educated and had an excellent job with a 401 K in an area where a man was considered eligible if he had 401 dollars. Why weren’t the local girls falling all over him? Why didn’t their parents send them over with casseroles and cookies?
“Are they used to seeing you with men,” she asked hesitantly.
Joe laughed so hard he spilled beer down the front of his shirt. “Hell woman, you ain’t had enough proof I’m straight yet?” he said, still laughing as he mopped up the beer.
“Then what?” She asked, perplexed and suddenly terrified. She had always secretly suspected Joe was too good to be true, even when she thought he was an idiot. Now she realized she had probably been right.
Joe turned suddenly serious. “What did Vina tell you about me?”
Aubrey shrugged. “That you mowed her lawn and drank a lot of beer.” She told him, not thinking Joe would appreciate her repeating the various comments Vina had made about his ass.
He rolled his eyes and looked in his lap. She realized that he wasn’t ashamed, just disappointed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I figured you knew and didn’t care.”
“Are you a felon?”
Joe gave up. “No, but my people did kill Jesus…” He offered.
“You’re Roman?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m Jewish.”
“The Jews killed Jesus?” She asked, bewildered. “I thought it was the Romans.”
Joe laughed again and Aubrey felt a wave of relief.
“Don’t you have any religion?” He asked.
Aubrey shook her head. “My mother always joined whatever church her latest husband belonged to, but even as a child I thought that was pretty hypocritical and I was usually in boarding school anyway, so I got to bow out.”
Joe grinned. “So you don’t care?”
Aubrey laughed. “You know if I told my mother I had gone out on a date with a Jewish doctor, she wouldn’t even care that it was a PhD. She’d call everyone she knew to brag and then start emailing me pictures of bridal gowns.”
Joe smiled, and then thought of something. “Your Mom doesn’t know we’re datin’?”
“My mother usually only calls me when she’s getting married or divorced. Last time I spoke with her was when she let me know Vina was in trouble.”
“How many times has she been married?” Joe asked, palpably relieved that his religion was no longer the topic of conversation.
“Seven? No, eight. I’m not really sure,” Aubrey confessed. “I stopped counting after I left home, because I was usually unable to get leave to attend the services. She was on number five when I was in college.”
“Isn’t there a limit?”
“She’s been in Europe for the last few. I doubt they keep count.”
The movie started and they both went quiet along with everyone else in the field. The sound came from speakers on the top of the bathroom so it was a necessary politeness. Aubrey decided that in spite of her initial reluctance, watching an illegal bootleg movie in a cow field was actually very nice. The air cooled, the stars glittered, there was popcorn and candy and bourbon. Aubrey pointed out a shooting star to Joe and told him to make a wish. Instead he leaned over and kissed her. The kids in the SUV next to them made gagging sounds.
Halfway through the show the movie stopped abruptly and Aubrey saw the two white lines or the pause sign in the upper right corner.
“Intermission?” She asked.
Joe shook his head and pointed. In the distance, she saw a white light that was getting closer and closer. Suddenly, a train was whipping past them on the tracks she hadn’t even noticed that ran beside the fence, just behind the bathroom. Everyone waited and watched the box cars chug past and the moment they were gone, the movie resumed.
When it was over and the other cars started queuing up to go, Joe took his time breaking down their chairs and collecting their trash.
“So the women around here won’t date you because you’re Jewish?” She said. Having thought about it all through the movie, she found she had more questions than answers.
He nodded.
“I can’t believe anyone really cares about that kind of thing anymore,” she told him.
Joe shrugged.
“My second wife’s family wouldn’t come to the wedding when they found out. You’d be surprised what’s important to some people.”
“What about the Mosley woman?”
Joe helped her down out of the bed of the truck and pretended not to know who she was talking about.
“Carrie? Kelly?” Aubrey offered. “Vina says she’s always chasing around after you.”
Joe rolled his eyes and grimaced.
“Katie Carmichael. She’s slept with all the Christians in the county already. She has to expand her horizons or move.”
“And she doesn’t want to move?”
“She’s datin’ a Mormon over in Sevierville right now, so I’m safe for the time bein’. Besides,” he told her with a wink. “I’m taken.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
After a weekend
of sailing and sex, Aubrey felt up to the task of meeting with the sheriff. She pulled into the Waffle House lot at nine fifteen and saw him already inside, drinking a cup of coffee alone in a booth. She
parked and walked inside. It was past the breakfast rush of truckers and road trippers, but well before lunch, so they had the place to themselves except for a few old timers at the counter.
When Aubrey sat down opposite the sheriff, the waitress brought her a cup of coffee without being asked and then hurried away, as if she’d been warned that they were there to talk and not to eat. Aubrey didn’t bother telling them that she didn’t want coffee or that she’d eaten before she came. The hot cup gave her something to do with her hands.
“So what can I do for you, Sheriff?” She asked.
“Well,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “I believe you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“Okay,” she said noncommittally, hoping he would just cut to the chase and not make her sit and exchange pleasantries with him first.
“Now I don’t know what your Mama has been tellin’ you about me, but I want you to know that I offered to marry her. I understand you might be upset, feel like I wasn’t there for you growin’ up, but there’s no need for you to be takin’ it out on me professionally or involvin’ my family.”
Aubrey just gaped at him.
“My mother has never even mentioned knowing you,” she finally told him, her voice barely above a whisper. How long ago had it been since she told Joe she resented never having known her father? She felt suddenly ill.
“Then…” The sheriff looked stricken. “Then why the hell did you try to blow up my nephews and blackmail ‘em? Why the hell are you pokin’ your nose into Noah’s death? Why are you even here?”
She opened her mouth to explain about her divorce and Vina being sent to The Home, but decided it was none of his business.
“You can’t be my father,” she assured him.
He sighed again, but this time it seemed more genuine exasperation than a show.
“Your Mama used to come down summers and visit Vina, same as you when you were a kid. Summer after my senior year, we dated pretty serious but we never told anyone ‘cause our families probably would a had a fit. So in the fall I go to UT on a football scholarship and she goes back home. Christmas she tells her Pa she’s goin’ to see Vina and comes to stay with me for a few weeks. I had an apartment in the city and my roommate was gone for the holiday. Anyhow, next summer she comes down to stay for good ‘cause she’s pregnant and her Pa has thrown her out. Vina took her in and I offered to marry her, but she wouldn’t. She told me if I ever told anyone you were mine she’d kill me. You know she’s crazy. I believe she’d a done it.” He took a sip of coffee, obviously relieved to have gotten through without being interrupted. “I wanted to do right by you, but she wouldn’t have it, so whatever bone you got to pick now, you need to take it up with her.”
Aubrey took a deep breath. This was not at all where she had expected the conversation to go.
“Has it occurred to you that the reason she didn’t want you to tell anyone I was yours was because I wasn’t?”
“If you don’t believe I’m your father, then why have you been doin’ all this shit to try to get my attention?”
“I called and spoke to a deputy about the fact that my mailbox was constantly being destroyed and they said they couldn’t do anything about it, so I took matters into my own hands. As for Noah, if there’s a murderer operating a few miles from my house, I think it’s pretty natural for me to be upset and want the person caught. The only problem I’ve ever had with you personally is that you’re either corrupt or completely incompetent.”
“Well that’s fucking unfortunate,” he told her earnestly, “because I already told my Memaw that the reason you were bein’ a trouble maker was because you were sore at me for never acknowledging you as my own. I took a hell of an earful for that, let me assure you.”
“Wow, I’m really sorry that my pursuit of justice has your grandmother so pissed.”
“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it. I promised to bring you over to her, so you could tell her yourself how you’ll turn off them cameras and stop makin’ a fuss. She puts a great store in kinship, but she ain’t gonna let you slide forever.”
“I take it the Memaw in question is Celestine Wynn?”
The sheriff nodded.
Aubrey realized she should be a lot more concerned with the possibility that the sheriff was her father, but all she could think of was finally meeting the famous Celestine.
“So take me,” she told him abruptly.
“You want to follow me?” He offered, clearly relieved that she was going along so willingly. He stood up and slapped down a five on the table.
“Nope,” she told him. “I want all these nice people to see me getting into your car and driving off with you so that if my body is found floating in the river tomorrow, they’ll know where to start looking for my killer.”
She smiled at him sweetly and he laughed.
“You got the same brand of crazy as your mother,” he told her, clearly meaning it as a compliment.
Aubrey climbed into the passenger seat of the sheriff’s car and felt oddly pleased at the way things had turned out. The sheriff hadn’t threatened her if she didn’t withhold evidence from the FBI, which was what she’d been expecting, and he claimed he was her father, an idea which she found completely repugnant, but she was finally going to meet the woman that Vina called
The Bitch.