Sins of September (9 page)

Gram and Grandpa are not thrilled about me staying on, but they don’t fight it because they know I’m needed here. By the end of the week, they’ve driven to Fort Smith, bringing me the bulk of my belongings, along with some new school clothes for Scout.

They take us both shopping for school supplies, and I buy some new things for school from the money I’ve earned this summer from Jesse.

They talk to Jesse about planning some sort of a memorial service for my mother, and wonder if he wants it in Fort Smith or Meridian. Gram says she can’t stand the thought of not having a grave or a head stone even though she’s not buried anywhere. She feels it’s a sign of respect for the dead.

Jesse tells her Meridian would be best since that’s where she was raised. I can tell they’re pleased with that, and they let him know they will get back with him once they’ve made the preparations and ordered the head stone. Gram wants an obit put in the local newspaper back home announcing the services since she did have friends there and all.

“I know she never done right by you or the kids, Jesse, and I’m a might sorry about that, but I thank you for keeping us as family just the same.” Gram hugs him long and hard, and Grandpa shakes his hand, having a tear or two in his eyes.

They hug and kiss both Scout and me before they begin their journey back to Meridian where things will be kinda lonely for them for a while, but in time, I know they will adjust.

I am where I want to be and where I’m needed. And hopefully, not too far off down the road, Jesse will realize just how much more he needs me in a much different way.

I start my senior year at Washington High School and immediately I am made to feel at home.

Of course, being the new girl in the class brings quite a bit of attention to me which of course, I don’t mind at all.

I have met a couple of girls right off the bat that I know will be my buds for life: Missy and Shayla. They’ve filled me in quickly on the social scene at the school, whom to hang with and whom to avoid. Missy dates a college freshman, which I think is pretty cool and tell her so. They have both asked about my current situation with respect to having a boyfriend.

“Had one back in Meridian, but I broke things off with him before I came to Arkansas for the summer. I hooked up with a dude here over the summer, but you know, it was just about the sex.”

I can tell they are impressed with my total nonchalance about the situation.

“What about now?” Shayla asks. “Got your eye on anyone local? Want us to fix you up?”

“Naw—I’m good. I’ve got my eye on a dude but he’s out of school.”

“College dude?” Missy asks. “They seriously rock.”

“Older than that,” is my reply. I’m not giving them any details just yet and luckily they don’t press for more at the moment. I have shared with them that I’m living with my stepfather and half-sister, and that my mom has passed away, but I don’t give them the specifics on that either.

I’m not a person that likes to put my business all out there like that, and they’ve pretty much figured that out. Missy is all about telling anyone everything about herself; Shayla is a bit more reserved, like me.

We’re all in a routine now at home.

Jesse leaves for work around seven. I get Scout ready for school and her bus picks her up at 7:45. My bus picks me up at eight, and then Shayla drops me off so that I can beat Scout home by about twenty minutes.

“Don’t you have your driver’s license?” Shayla asks one afternoon on the way home.

“Long story. I had my learner’s permit back in Mississippi and finished my Driver’s Ed training, but I left to come here before I ever took the final driving test. I guess it doesn’t matter since I don’t have a car.”

“Maybe you can work on step-daddy there to get you one,” she says with a devilish grin.

“Maybe I will,” I reply, returning the devilish grin.

The weeks seem to have flown by since the start of the school year. It’s the third week of September and the air is starting to get just a hint of fall chill in the evenings. It’s getting darker sooner than before—a sure sign.

I feel all nested in at Jesse’s—taking care of Scout and doing domestic things around the house almost as if I am the wife instead of the stepdaughter.

Jesse’s been working some wicked hours, leaving at seven in the morning and sometimes not getting in until after eight o’clock at night. I always keep his supper warming for him and he seems genuinely pleased about that.

Catherine isn’t coming over nearly as much to get Scout outside now that they’re back in school. Catherine attends elementary school in another district on account of Casey being a teacher there. It’s just as well as far as I’m concerned. Scout’s meeting some new third grade friends and one of them lives just down the street she’s discovered.

I’ve passed Casey coming and going and I always smile and greet her. The most she does in return is to give me an almost inaudible grunt and then she quickly looks away.

Fuck the hag. Before long, I’ll be having what she had—only I’ll be having much more of it.

Tonight I already have Scout’s homework checked; she’s had her shower and is already asleep before Jesse gets home. It’s a little after nine o’clock.

“Sorry so late,” he says, pulling his ball cap off and hanging it on the peg by the back door. “Scout in bed?”

“Yep—’bout a half hour now. I’ll get your plate.”

“Hold on a sec. Before you do that, I want you to come outside. I had someone follow me home and they left something in the driveway that you need to see.”

He can see my puzzled expression, but he makes no attempt to offer up any further explanation. So I follow him outside, and he switches the side porch light on so that I can get a full view of a shiny red Honda Civic that’s sitting right behind his truck.

My eyes fly quickly to his, not wanting to presume anything that might make me feel like a fool in front of this man. This totally awesome and seriously beautiful man.

“Happy Birthday, September.”

I feel my eyes widen and a wall-to-wall grin spreads over my face. “Oh my God!” I scream, jumping off the stoop and running over to it, “I can’t believe you did this for me! Oh my God! A car! My car?”

He’s laughing now, a rare occurrence for sure. “Of course
your
car—who else’s car would it be?”

“Oh Jesse,” I gasp, still feeling like I’m on a high that I’ve never known before and one where he’s right there with me. “This is too much. This is way too much!”

“It’s from me
and
from your grandparents,” he explains. “We agreed when they were here that you really need some wheels of your own. So they paid for half of it.”

“But my birthday isn’t until Saturday,” I say, and then wonder why the hell that makes any difference.

“I
know
when your birthday is,” he replies, “But I just couldn’t wait. I had to see your face when you saw it tonight.” And in that moment he seems like a kid himself.

I run to him and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and savoring the feeling of closeness we have, and for this occasion, I know that it’s a perfectly appropriate reaction. His arms encircle me and he hugs me back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I repeat over and over, and beyond him I can see the curtains part in Casey’s kitchen and she looks out upon the both of us, taking in the whole scene, including my new car.

I catch her eye and give her a big smile. She turns quickly away and closes the curtains.

“Now,” he says, releasing his arms from me too soon. “This is a used car, but it’s been well-maintained, and it only has a little over a hundred thousand miles on it. If you keep it maintained, you can easily double or triple that, so it’s gonna teach you some responsibility too. There’s more to maintaining a vehicle than just putting gas and oil into it, hear?”

“Yes, Jesse.”

He’s on a roll. “There are periodic oil changes, tire rotation and alignment, tune-ups, brake inspections, and I’ll be here to teach you how to keep it on a good maintenance schedule.”

“There’s just one problem,” I say.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t have my license yet.”

“We’re gonna fix that tomorrow. Ruth mailed me your certification of completion in Driver’s Ed and your documented training mileage log so I’ve checked and all you need to do is take your final test.”

Once again, I am compelled to give a high-pitch squeal of delight, wrapping my arms around him one more time. “You’re the best ever!”

The warmth of his body touching mine is reminiscent of an earlier time. It’s a memory from my childhood. From another birthday years back.

I think it was my eighth birthday. Mama had baked me a clown cake and she let me push eight little colored candles into it after supper. She was getting the ice cream out, and had warned me not to light the candles. Totally disregarding her instructions, I flicked her Bic, turning it upside down to light the wick of the first candle. Of course, the flame hadn’t followed, snaking up my thumb and burning the hell out of it. Mama turned when she heard my scream, running over and smacking the lighter out of my hands, yelling at me for being so stupid.

Jesse had come into the kitchen, hearing the ruckus. He immediately went straight to the freezer, grabbing ice cubes and wrapping them in a paper towel. He picked me up and placed me on his lap, holding the wrapped ice up against my throbbing thumb. His kind and soothing words had been the first-aid I needed.

“Now don’t forget to call your grandparents in the morning to thank them too,” he reminded me pulling away.

“I will,” I promise, wishing our bodies didn’t have to be distanced; and that it was a perfectly normal thing for us to cling to one another. No special occasion or injury was required to precipitate our touching one another.

It’s early October—two weeks after my birthday. I’ve successfully passed my driving test and am now proud to be a certified holder of a valid driver’s license issued by the state of Arkansas.

It’s Friday and I have some great weekend plans. I pull into the driveway and am surprised to see Jesse’s truck pulled up in the garage.

Gathering my books and discarded jacket, I get out of the car and go into the house hoping like hell that there’s no bad news. Seeing him sitting in the living room, his cell up to his ear, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m not sure what to think, Ruth,” I hear him say. “This is the most bizarre thing imaginable.”

Silence.

“I think you need to hold off planning anything until we get to the bottom of this.”

Silence.

“I don’t know that they’ll do anything, but maybe we need to hire someone to look into it.”

Silence.

“I’m not sure what the cost will be. I’m not sure that if we pool our resources that would even buy us enough shoe leather to do any good.”

Huh.

“Look, talk to Henry when he gets home and then give me a call in the next day or two and let’s work out some kind of a game plan, funds permitting.”

Silence.

“September’s home—I’m gonna let her know, but I think Scout’s too young to be told this shit.”

Silence.

“Yeah. I’m down with that. Take care. Talk to you soon.”

By this time, my heart is beating faster, because something big is definitely going down. Jesse reads my expression and body language.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting the couch cushion beside him. “I need to talk to you, darlin’.”

And I love when he uses endearments with me . . . no matter how bad the news is, I’m in his court.

I sink down into the cushion next to him and watch as his large hand takes one of mine into it, his thumb brushing across it gently with care.

He turns slowly to gaze at me with those sapphire eyes of his and it’s totally starting to freak me. “I got a call today from a guy named Jackson at the State Department. He called to give me a heads up before the official letter gets here in a day or two. The DNA testing done on the samples from you girls—along with the tissue samples of the . . . uh . . .
remains
aren’t a match.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Well, it means that whoever those tissue samples belonged to couldn’t have been Libby—your mother.”

He lets out a long sigh, and pulls his hand from mine, putting both of them over his eyes and shakes his head. “This is too much. Just too damn much.”

He gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen for a beer.

“So Mama’s alive?” I ask to no one in particular. “Then where is she?”

Jesse’s back, taking a long swig of his Budweiser. “I don’t know what the fuck to think. She may be alive. She may be dead. Who the fuck knows?” He’s clearly agitated and frustrated. “I mean it’s not like we’re even dealing with a country that has a sound government. Shit!”

He finishes off his beer and goes back for another one just as Scout comes bounding into the house. “Dad,” she calls out. “You’re home.”

“I am, sugar,” he says, setting his beer on the counter and picking her up for a bear hug. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yep! And guess what? Amber asked if I could spend the night. Can I?”

“Amber from down the street?”

She nods, anxiously awaiting his answer.

“Well I need to make sure it’s okay with her mom if you stay. You two didn’t cook this up by yourselves, did you?”

“No, dad,” she grumbles. “I know better than that.”

He laughs and musses her hair. “Let me give them a call to make sure.”