Page 34 of Pete and His Precious

“The force has always been rather helpful. Take, for example, when I needed to get the charges dropped against Zoe. We were able to keep it from being on her permanent record. The force was quite willing to negotiate when I waved a little cash in front of them.”

Mr. Barry speaks from the other end of the table. I want to defend the police force. These people don’t understand how tight money is. And yeah, I suppose money talks, especially on a charge like that. One that really wasn’t that big of a deal. She wasn’t doing anything other than being immodest, and while that offended enough people in town, it wasn’t like it was something that she made a habit of. I think most people are willing to forgive and forget. Still, he makes it sound almost tawdry, and I am embarrassed to be associated with it. The line-toeing part of me wants to go back and make sure that she paid the price that she was supposed to, since no one should be above the law, but we all know that’s not true.

Some people are above the law, and it really only matters who you know. Zoe is lucky, since her dad is a lawyer, and knows the right strings to pull.

But I keep my mouth shut. This isn’t the time or place. And I might be dumb, but I’m not that dumb.

After that, Barry says grace, and things aren’t quite as awkward. They start talking about Baxley's schedule, and what they expect of me, which is basically everything that the chief told me. I listen attentively though, because I do want to do this job correctly. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here, but since I am, I’m going to do my very best. That’s just the way I am. I can’t imagine having a job and not doing everything I can to do my best. Plus, as much as I don’t want to admit it, Zoe’s dad has a lot of pull in town, and I don’t want to screw this up. I suppose, money talks to the point that I know if I screw up badly, he can keep me from getting my own job back.

I definitely don’t want that to happen.

I’m also very aware of Zoe beside me. She doesn’t participate a whole lot in the conversation, although she does say more than Baxley, who hasn’t said a word. I’m tempted to ask if she can talk, but I figure I’ll find out soon enough.

“You won’t be responsible for anything like putting her to bed or that type of thing. Mom will take care of all of that. But, we will want you here at six o’clock in the morning, which is about the time she gets up on weekdays. On weekends you can wait until eight to show up. Then, you’ll be expected to be with her all day since there’s no school. Of course.”

“You have to go to our church. We don’t want her to go across the street to yours. No offense, but the small differences in doctrine are enough to brainwash a susceptible child, and we don’t want that to happen to our darling granddaughter,” Barry said from the head of the table.

I feel a little bit like I’m back in the 1950s with that comment. I guess there are a few differences, but I kind of feel like four Sunday mornings in a strange church is not going to ruin a kid.It’s not like we’re teaching that Santa Claus is real or something over on the other side of the street.

But, I don’t argue.

I just nod and say, “Yes sir,”

I’ve been paying so much attention to the conversation, that I barely recognize that the food is actually pretty good.

I see Zoe’s eating, and as I’m noticing that, she catches my eye, and it’s almost like the question that I had asked her last night hovers in the air between us for just a couple of moments.

She nods, indicates her fork, and then puts it in her mouth.

I nod in approval, and she grins.

I like the wordless communication that flows between us. It isn’t much, isn’t but a few seconds, but it makes me feel connected to her and like we share a bond that lies underneath the glitz and glamor and the trappings of riches and wealth.

I can’t wait to get her alone and ask her about all this. Is this the way she grew up? She just doesn’t strike me as someone who grew up with money. I’m also wondering about Baxley’s father. I’m interested in what happened to him.

The meal finally ends. It took about an hour till they brought all the courses out, plus dessert. And, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t skimp on any of it. I thought to ask Zoe that question about how she’d been eating, because there were more than a few times in my own life where Aunt Arley needed money more than I did, and I survived on hotdogs and boxed mac & cheese.

“It would be nice for you and Baxley to head out to the yard, and chat with each other for a little bit. Get to know each other some,” Mrs. Fowler says. Then she looks at Zoe. “Zoe, darling. Would you please go out with them, to break the ice a little bit for Baxley? Kylie has some packing to do before she leaves early tomorrow morning, and I want to give her a hand with that,” she says, looking at Zoe, and then glancing at her nails as thoughtrying to decide whether or not it was time for her to have them redone.

It seems like an odd way to give a command, but that’s what it sounded like.

Zoe murmurs in acquiescence, and she pushes back away from the table. Baxley does as well, and so I follow suit. In my house, we were always responsible for taking our own plates to the kitchen and helping to clear off the table, while whoever’s turn it was to do the dishes got started on them. We all took turns with the work. But, as everyone starts leaving the table, the maid comes back in. That must be what she was. That or housekeeper, whatever the going term was these days, not that I have any clue.

But, I am going to get to leave the stuffy room, where I feel just as trapped as I did when I was in school, like in a jail cell, and go outside. With Zoe. Of course I am not going to turn that down.

Chapter 11

Zoe

I hadn’t even considered asking my family if Pete was going to be the security guard. They’d mentioned him, I dismissed the idea in my mind, and I hadn’t revisited it.

However, I wasn’t totally shocked when he walked in. Actually, the feeling that I had was definitely not shock. It was...joy? Happiness for sure. But joy as well. I definitely can see us spending a lot of time together, since I promised Kylie I would make sure I would check in on Baxley while she was gone.

Kylie loves drama, but she really is a good mother. And she was concerned that our step-mother would forget that she was supposed to take care of a little girl again. Not that mom had been a great, attentive mom growing up.

She was not my real mom. I don’t really remember my real mom, but my step-mom married my dad because he was a lawyer, and even though he was a small town lawyer, there’s still prestige that comes with that.

She came from money, and after dad married her, we had more.

---