Sonny spoke up. “Meridee, we also found a set of keys in
Lewis’s apartment. I matched it with the bank. But no box is registered to
Lewis.”
“That’s ’cause they’re my damn keys,” Meridee said. “I gave
Lewis a copy of the keys just in case.”
“In case what?” I asked.
“In case I died! I am nearly eighty, and as hard as I was
plannin’ on partyin’ on the gamblin’ boat, well, you just never know, so I
wanted him to have a copy of everything.”
“Of what?” Kitty asked. She’d been well-behaved until now, but
she just couldn’t sit still any longer without jumping in.
“Of all of our hard work. I wanted to protect Lewis. This was
all my doing and I wanted everybody to know the truth. I offered to help him on
this venture. So I wrote it all down, every single thing and put it in my old
box at the bank, and I gave Lewis a copy of my keys. I had it signed and
notarized so nobody could ever call him a liar! So we’ll just have to wait till
he gets back to open the box.”
“What in the world did South America have to do with all of
this?” Kitty asked.
“Lewis found some pretty sound investors down there. They
invest in projects like ours and we found them to be very credible. But now he
has finished up with everything and I am certain he has paid them off.”
“I want to know how the hell he got to Birmingham since we had
his car pulled here for an evidence search,” Sonny said, looking at Meridee. She
looked at him,
“Damn, y’all don’t miss a beat do ya?” she said. “He took my
car and left it there in Birmingham while he did what he went to do. And I left
it there for him at the motel.”
“So, your car hasn’t really been in the shop this whole time?”
I asked, smirking at her.
“If it’s the only little white lie I had to tell, then so be
it.” She smirked back at me.
Everyone sat silently, looking at each other, not sure of what
to say or whom to say it to until Kitty broke the silence.
“Well, it’s almost eleven. Y’all wanna go to the Waffle House?”
Count on Kitty to be thinkin’ of food in the middle of all this drama. “I think
we have some celebratin’ to do with this precious baby on the way and Lewis
coming home soon.”
Actually, it was a good idea since all the arguing and crying
and stress had worked up everyone’s appetite. We went for waffles and grits in
the middle of the night, like one big, happy, dysfunctional family. But there
was still one thought on everyone’s mind: Would Lewis make it back to Tuscaloosa
in time for kickoff? It was three months away, but with a baby on the way and so
much to iron out with his job at the university, not to mention explaining
himself to the whole city of Tuscaloosa, our plates were more than full. To get
it all done in time would take a miracle, and that all depended on when Lewis
would finally make his way back home.
22
W
ith the dripping hot and humid
days of May gone, the summer was crashing in with an incessant flurry of
activity, but the excitement of fall and the buzz of Bama football were already
in the air. The season, football of course, is all anyone talked about. That,
and Lewis. Newspaper headlines, internet, radio and TV were all asking the same
thing: Where is Lewis Heart? The Tide was missing its voice. Everyone had
questions, but relief had fallen over Vivi like a blanket. “Lewis is alive,” she
said over and over. Sometimes it was like a mantra. Sometimes it was like an
announcement.
The campus would be full of students again once summer ended,
so Vivi and I decided to enjoy the quiet and go over to the strip for some ice
cream a few days after Meridee had put us all squarely in our places at the
police station.
We parked behind the Bryany-Denny football stadium, which
seemed to be growing larger and larger every season. Higher and higher up they
built it, so the Tide could pack in more fans. They had won so many national
championships, the fans were coming in from everywhere these days. Football
season was the very best time to be in Tuscaloosa. And Tuscaloosa was the very
best place to be during football season. The tailgating and the famous Dreamland
ribs, I could get excited just thinking of it. And this year, Arthur’s Moonwinx
BBQ would be added to the mix! We still had summer in front of us, but we were
all excited for the arrival of fall and football.
We made our way down the sidewalk to the quad and stopped at
Denny Chimes, where we sat down on the steps at the base. The concrete was warm
under us. Vivi was just over four months along now. She swore she and Lewis had
been careful back in February, during one of their now-famous “meetings,” but I
guess some things are just meant to be. The early June sun baked us as we
stopped to sit on the steps of Denny Chimes where only a month before we had the
press conference about Lewis’s disappearance.
“Blake, what do you think it’s gonna be?” Vivi asked, rubbing
her tummy, which was just starting to show its telling roundness. “I feel a girl
is coming, but that may be just because I want to have more excuses for spa
days,” she said. We both giggled.
“I think it might be a boy,” I said. “I’ve been doing a lot of
thinkin’ on this and Lewis would just love a boy.”
She stopped and looked out over the huge expanse of the quad up
toward the massive steps and entrance to the library. “You do think he’ll be
back, don’t you, Blake?” I put my arm around her and pulled her to me. She
dropped her head on my shoulder.
“Of course I do. Meridee said so. I just hope he has one damn
good story. I, myself, am a tad mad at him. I mean, he has put you through
absolute hell. I know, Meridee said he had to, but I still want to question
him,” I said.
“I know, Blake, but I kinda get it, I think. I truly believe he
was gonna tell me everything that morning, but he didn’t want me to have to lie
to you and Harry and say I had no idea where he went, when I would know. He also
knows I tell you everything and he totally knows that you and Harry have no
faith in him and would go to the ends of the Earth to stop him from doin’
whatever he is doin’. I get it.”
“I know, but he has put you through hell,” I said.
“Yeah, I guess you can look at it that way, but I love him and
I know he was protecting me.”
“From what?”
“From you and Harry.”
Instantly, I felt bad. I sat there in the warm sun under the
protective shade of Denny Chimes and wondered if all these years since I had
been married to Harry, Vivi had thought I was as pompous as he was. I guess I
had been, and she had put up with me anyway.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I asked her.
“What? That you had joined the head-up-your-ass club of which
your dear husband is the president? You know how he loves to hold office.”
I laughed in an embarrassed kind of way. Vivi was right. “I
just wish you had said something,” I said.
“Blake, how could I? I mean, really. I saw the changes comin’
right after you started datin’ Harry. But, you’re my best friend. Really, you’re
more of a sister. And sisters stick together no matter what. Sassy Belles,
remember?” She leaned into me, reminding me of our childhood club. “And, Blake,
I know you. There are some things that a stubborn Belle like you needs to see
for herself, even if it takes a little time. I didn’t want to tell you and risk
losing our friendship if you felt forced to choose. So I just had to wait and
trust that you’d find your way back to yourself eventually. And you did—with a
little help from our sexy cop….”
“Was I really that awful?” I asked
“Honey, you were the vice president of the club,” she said.
* * *
I took Vivi home and went back to the office. The big
showdown with the Myrnas was that afternoon and I needed to prep. Ms. Crabtree
was on her way over to meet with us, too. This was the day I hoped to be rid of
them once and for all. I arrived to find Wanda Jo sitting fanning herself with
an old church fan.
“Hey, Wanda Jo, isn’t the air conditioner working?” I asked
her, going over to check the thermostat.
“Yeah, I think it is. I hear it anyway, but it’s hotter than
doughnut grease at a fat man’s convention today and I’m ’bout to die. Probably
the menopause.” She was smiling, anticipating my next question. “And, yes,
everyone has called and confirmed.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I’ll call the repairman and see if he can
come take a look.” I walked down the hall to my office.
I felt ready to get this Myrna file closed and put to bed. We
had been fighting them for months. I had finally written them and told them that
the dates were perfectly clear, and the old place was fixin’ to be placed on the
Alabama Places in Peril list and it was time for them to find another spot for
their mall. I thought we were done until I got a call from them yesterday and
they said they had new information to present.
Fine. I’m
ready,
I told myself. After what we had been through the last month
with Lewis, I felt ready for anything. The Myrnas and Ms. Crabtree arrived at
the same time and Wanda Jo set us all up in the conference room as usual.
“Good afternoon. Y’all have a seat,” I said as everyone
shuffled to a spot at the table. “Thanks for coming by today. I understand there
has been a significant new development?”
“Yes, and we felt it was best to come in person and present it
so we could all be on the same page,” the younger Mr. Myrna explained. “As you
stated, Ms. Heart, in your recent correspondence with us, the old Brooks Mansion
is still zoned as a residence and no matter what, as you pointed out, we could
not build a shopping center in that location. Years ago, before the zoning board
was created, the structure could serve as anything, but these days it does need
zoning approval. Well, we presented our proposal to the zoning commission this
week and we are happy to report, the Brooks Mansion and the land it sits on
has
been zoned commercial by the Tuscaloosa
zoning board.” He smiled as he spoke.
My mouth suddenly felt like cotton and my chest tightened like
I had had the wind knocked out of me. All I could manage was, “May I see the
paperwork, please?” I looked at Ms. Crabtree and she was tearing up, certainly
imagining that grand old place falling to the ground. I took a deep breath as I
looked at the new zoning of the area. I was shocked and sickened.
“I know this must come as a surprise, but we intend to begin
demolition in the next two weeks once the property offer is final.” The old Mr.
Myrna had a smirk on his face I wanted to slap right off of him. I swallowed
hard as I looked at the new developments.
“Okay,” I said, “we still have a couple of weeks. I will
research this and get right back to you. I know we can still file an injunction.
So this is not quite over yet, I assure you.” I stood and said, “Thank you for
coming, Wanda Jo will see you out.”
Ms. Crabtree and I retreated to my office and shut the
door.
“Oh, Blake, what will we do now?” she said as soon as we were
safe from earshot.
“I am fixin’ to march straight down to City Hall and get those
damn meeting minutes and just see who voted on this. Then I’m going to wring
their necks.” I grabbed my bag and flew down the hall. Wanda Jo had just shut
the door behind the Myrnas. I was on fire.
“See Ms. Crabtree out, too, please, and ask her if she needs a
drink first. I’ve got a zoning board member I may need to kill. I’ll be at City
Hall if you need me.”
“Well, for heaven’s sakes, don’t kill anyone in front of City
Hall, they’ll catch you for sure,” she said, heading up the hall to Ms.
Crabtree. I shut the door behind me and jumped in my car. I tried to call Harry
several times but he never picked up.
Why hasn’t he told me
about this? He’s on the zoning board for God’s sakes. Surely he knows about
this.
I arrived at City Hall and parked in front and ran up the steps
like it was a hospital and someone I loved was in the emergency room. In fact it
was just like that. I loved that old Brooks Mansion like it was a member of the
family. I was rushing in to save her.
I ran straight to the zoning office, my high heels clicking all
the way down the hall like corn popping. After a brief discussion, the clerk
handed me the minutes from the last vote, with one abstention. It was just last
week. I stared at the minutes until I saw the Brooks Mansion listed. It was a
three-to-two vote. I scanned down the page and there it was:
Should the Brooks Mansion be zoned for commercial
business?
Attorney Harry Heart—
YES.
Harry
had voted to zone the property commercial! My whole world was spinning out of
control and my blood boiled into a rage. His name was listed right next to Judge
Shamblin, the judge he saw at the University Club a couple of weeks ago.
Abstain.
The Judge hadn’t voted on this issue. I
couldn’t make sense of it—and I was too absorbed by my fury to try to put it
together. Harry knew I was working on this place! It was all I’d talked about
now for months. He knew how much I loved it and how much I was invested.
That son-of-a-bitch!
It was even worse than finding
him with Dallas. This was a betrayal of the worst kind. He had taken something I
loved, something he knew was important to me and he’d used it to stab me in the
back. Sadness swept over me. I felt sick. Defeated. It was over. My marriage was
officially over in my heart at that second. I had a copy of the file made by the
clerk and went back to my car and drove straight home.
I sent Harry a text:
Emergency, meet me at home.
He was waiting for me when I got there, sitting at the dining
room table putting finishing touches on a speech. I threw the file down on the
table in front of him.
“Wanna explain this?” I said, glaring at him.
“What?” he said as he wrote, barely looking up.
“These are the minutes from the most recent zoning meeting. You
know, the one where you voted to have the Brooks Mansion zoned for commercial
use?”
“So?” He really didn’t get it. But he was about to.
“Harry, you voted yes and now the estate will be torn down. I
have been working against that for months. You knew that. I told you the Myrnas
and their silent partners were badgering the hell outta me and I was fighting
them tooth and nail. Then you go behind my back and with one swish of your pen
you undo all my sweat and hard work. Why, Harry, why? That place means so much
to me, you knew that.” I was shouting and my heart was racing. It was all I
could do not to hit him. “I told you just a couple of weeks ago how important
the place was to me. What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you ever hear me?
Just tell me why.”
He stood and walked over to the credenza and poured himself a
glass of ice water. He was cool and matter-of-fact—like nothing I said had
registered.
“Blake, it’s business,” he finally said. “I had to vote that
way. I had no choice. You really can’t take it personally.”
“Of course you did. I’m sure no one was holding a gun to your
head were they?”
“No, but it was a matter of election support, campaign
support.”
I stood there trying to put the pieces together. “What are you
saying, Harry? Is that what you were talking to Judge Shamblin about at the
University Club a couple of weeks ago?”
Silence.
“Was it? Answer me, Harry,
was
it?”
“Judge Shamblin has an interest in the property. She is
invested financially.”
“Oh, my God.
She
is the Myrnas’
silent partner?” I stopped and stood in shock for a moment. “So she couldn’t
vote because it would be a conflict of interest, and she needed you to vote yes
as a favor! And
now
she’s gonna swing all her
support and money your way for your campaign. Do I have this straight,
Harry?”
“Blake, you wouldn’t understand.”
“That infuriates me, Harry. I get it, but you’re right, I don’t
understand. I don’t understand how I could be married to such a complete ass.
Who are you? At one time, I had hoped we would try to figure things out, but as
of right this second, we’re officially done. I don’t know you anymore. I can’t
trust you.”
“Blake, as usual, you’re taking this too far. Overreacting, as
usual. Do you like being this dramatic all the time?”
“Okay, you want me calm and rational? I am exhausted from
trying to be whoever it is you need me to be. I don’t even know who that is.
Lawyer’s wife, politician’s wife, perfect wife? Why wasn’t I good enough being
just me, Harry? You needed to marry someone that you could outshine, not someone
who is your equal, your partner. You wanted someone who could be the little
wifey and stay hidden behind you.”