Trouble in a Big Box (A Kelly O'Connell Mystery) (21 page)

We never did find out where in Mexico John Henry planned to go, and I didn’t even want to think about it.

Keisha sent José off with Conroy, who would have demanded he come along to recount his version of the story, even if Keisha hadn’t insisted. Then she took Mike and me to the emergency room at JPS since she declared neither of us could drive. A strip mall clinic would have done just fine, but we figured the personnel at the county hospital knew Mike and we’d get in and out.

We did. The graze on my leg was sterilized and dressed, and I was given supplies for dressing it at home.

“We’ve got to go to the girls. They’ll be scared to death, and so will Mom.”

So we went to Mom’s house, where indeed we were greeted by two wailing girls and a mom who was wringing her hands in despair. I assured them I was all right, Mike was all right, and it hadn’t been a big deal.

“Well, I declare, if it wasn’t a big deal, Keisha don’t you ever scare me like that again. Dropping off these girls as if the devil himself was chasing you!”

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Cynthia. I’m sorry for having worried you.” Keisha could play quiet and contrite every bit as well as she did bold and brassy.

The girls hovered over me, examined my leg, and asked how I hurt it. Since I vowed never to lie to them, I said, “A bullet grazed it.”

“God in Heaven,” Mom cried, raising her arms to the heavens above. “What has my child gotten herself into?” She glared at Mike, as though blaming him for involving me in police matters.

He spread his hands in that age-old “I don’t know” gesture and said, “Don’t blame me, Nana. She gets herself into these things. I was almost a victim of her foolishness this time.” But he kissed the top of my head and hugged me.

We were a tired bunch. Keisha took the four of us home and went on to wait for José at their apartment. “I guess I can move out of the guest house,” she said. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Mike fried some sausage, fixed scrambled eggs, and we all fell into bed right after we ate. The girls brought pallets and slept on the floor next to our bed. I figured they needed reassurance this night.

Of course, I dreamt about flying to Mexico with John Henry at the controls of a small plane—frightening image! But I’d waken myself and reach out for Mike, and I knew all was well.

****

We gathered for Christmas dinner at Claire’s. She insisted, after the trauma with John Henry. Mike, the girls, and I opened gifts at home around an undecorated tree, and some of the gifts were not wrapped. But it was a joyous Christmas morning. Mike fixed poached eggs on toast and cheese, a concoction he called Huck Finns. He had to explain to the girls about Huck Finn and the raft down the Mississippi River, but they still looked puzzled.

At Claire’s house, everyone wanted to know the blow-by-blow details of our encounter with John Henry, and we obliged. They deserved to know, since they put up with all my antics and cheered me on. José and Keisha came in to loud cheering for their part in the adventure. Mom remained aloof from the telling and tried to frown in disapproval but Otto sat by her and commented frequently, sometimes turning to Mom to say, “You must be so proud of her. She saved my store.”

What could Mom do except smile and agree?

Anthony and Joe muttered about what they’d do if they got their hands on John Henry, and Keisha scoffed at them. “You men need to wait for my sixth sense to tell you what to do.”

José just grinned.

We ate—and ate—turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes, with gravy over all, and green beans and sweet potatoes and cranberry and pecan and chocolate meringue pies until we groaned. Toasts were made to health, wealth, and happiness.

Mike proposed a toast to a life without adventures and even my girls joined in shouting, “Hear, hear!”

I sat in the glow of fellowship and thought surely our lives would be peaceful from now on.

THE END