Page 42 of Home Body
Kenyon laid down beside her, rolled onto her back, entwined her fingers, and placed her hands on her belly like a corpse. She talked to the sky. “All that, and there I was lying on the beach, drinking fruity drinks, swimming in a fabulous pool, getting massages, and kissing a cute bartender.”
That broke Dalia’s morbid spell. “You kissed the bartender? Bravo! Good for you. I’m glad you had fun.”
“Yeah, the best part was it all went on Chad’s credit card.”
Dalia sat up and offered a palm for a high five. “He deserves it.”
Kenyon sat up and obliged on the high five. “Did you happen to notice his road sign out on the highway?”
“Yeah, I did. It had said, ‘Your best choice,’ but somebody painted it to say, ‘Your breast choice.”
“And I know the scallywags who did it.” Kenyon explained about Zach and Jessa.
They stood up, chuckling over the sign, but Kenyon got back to business. She pointed at the dented metal box still sitting on the ground. “So, what’s that all about.”
Dalia explained, concluding with, “I’ve decided that tomorrow I’m going to Amberton to the county clerk’s office with my birth certificate. I’ll see if anybody can tell me anything at all.”
“Can I come?”
“Ah, sure. But won’t you be bored?”
“Nah. I’m still looking for a good story to write. I’ve got to get a job. My parents are generous but even they are getting antsyabout me being a moocher all my life. Oh, don’t worry, I would never write about you unless you want me to. But maybe I’ll get some good ideas along the way.”
They made arrangements for where and when to meet, with Kenyon insisting she drive. “Not that I don’t trust your old truck, but I don’t. We’ll take my Toyota. I’m only driving Mom’s car right now because Zack’s tinkering with something in mine. He’s a mechanical genius and is always making something work better. Mom’s having me pick up a couple loaves of bread she ordered from your mom.”
“Ah, of course. That’s why you were driving by.”
Kenyon pointed at the gun still laying on the ground. “What about that? What are you doing with a gun?”
“Oh, I found it inside and used it to unlock the box.” Dalia picked it up, thought about it, and walked to the side of the trailer where she tossed it as hard as she could. They heard a splash. “There’s a creek back there. I don’t want anything that washers.” One by one, she tossed the bullets, too, each making a little “plop” when it hit water.
“Oh, whew,” Kenyon said. “I’m so glad you did that. I was afraid, well…”
“You were afraid I was going to kill myself?” Dalia was incredulous.
“Hell, no. I was afraid you were going to kill someone else.”
“Oh, that. Nah. Too much trouble.” Dalia picked up the metal box with its treasure trove of pictures, knowing her mama was going to love those photos. “Okay, let’s blow this pop stand.”
They headed for the farm but halfway down the road Dalia remembered her toolbox, left in the trailer. She whipped a U-ee, sped back to the trailer, spewed gravel when she slammed on the brakes, hurried in to grab the toolbox, and got the hell out of there. Never again did she want to go back inside that rancid place with its mice and mold and horrifying memories.
CHAPTER 25
Mamie marveled over Dalia’s baby photos. “Look at this one! My oh my, you had the most beautiful, big eyes. ‘Baby-blue’ sure did apply to you. Still does.” She grinned from ear to ear. “And this one. There’s that little birthmark on your shoulder that faded away by the time you were five.” She ran a light finger over the photo. “You know what occurs to me, boo?”
“What Mama?”
They sat at the kitchen table, afternoon sun streaming in the window as if acknowledging the preciousness of the stash of photos. Dalia’s heart soared with pleasure at how happy this simple offering made her mother.
“Butch would have loved these. You know, that day so long ago when he went over there and asked for your birth certificate, she could have given him at least a couple of these. Why, there are a couple dozen of them here. She was such an enigma, wasn’t she? All these pictures – she must have been happy to have a baby.”
“That’s what I thought. At least at first. I wonder if she started losing interest when she realized how much work it would be to care for a child. To care for me.”
“I suppose that happens to some new parents. The yippy-skippy dream and unrealistic expectations are squelched by reality.”
“She always drank and smoked, at least from what I remember. She may have got me in a drunken fantasy that she’d have someone to love. I mean, she was so unlovable I doubt she ever had anyone.”
Mamie considered the possibility, taking a moment to look out the window. “That makes sense, honey. And it brings us to the question of how she got you. We still don’t know.”
