Page 58 of Missile Tow
“Jesus, woman!” I exclaimed. “You are way out of line, ma’am,” I defended.
“Am I?” she dared, turning her sights back to me. “You’ll see, Calvin. And when you end up alone again, you’ll wish my grandson were still available.”
Realizing her outburst was due to her grandson James, I tempered my anger. “This… this… outburst is about James?” I asked.
“Damn straight this is about James. And about saving you from a grave mistake,” she added.
“With all due respect, ma’am. I haven’t seen James in more than a decade.”
I was wrong to think that statement would derail her. “James is a soon-to-be doctor, Calvin. You’d be wise to set your heart on him. My grandson is a far better choice than… than… this person.”
Van had to have had his feelings hurt after her tirade, but somehow he maintained his calm presence. “You don’t know me, Sadie,” he began. “And I’m sorry if Chip and my relationship disappoints you, but I intend to continue exploring what we have.”
“Not on my watch,” she threatened.
“What are you saying?” I asked. “You sound ridiculous.”
Figuring she’d heard herself and how insane she sounded, I let up. Van gently pulled me backward and to his side.He must’ve sensed I was a nano-second from losing my shit. However, she wasnotfinished.
“I waited the proper amount of time to attempt reacquainting you and James, Calvin. I knew you were hurt and needed ample time for recovery, but I will not stand by and let the likes of this stranger come into town and steal you out from under my grandson.”
My desire to deal with her in a civil manner eroded the more she spoke about her grandson. True, the past year had sucked, and Sadie had been kind during those shitty months, but not once had she ever spoken about James. And not once had she spoken of John and what we were to one another.
Not to mention, James hadn’t visited Missile since we were thirteen. Any thought that one day he and I would reunite and somehow find love hadn’t occurred to me one single time. But for some unknown reason, Mrs. Hatfield was unexpectedly fixated on my ending up with him.
“Please don’t blame Van for your disappointment, ma’am. I’m sure you love your grandson. And I remember a nice boy too, but James doesn’t live in Missile any more than Van does.”
“But he would if…” she began, before hesitating to continue. “He might consid—” She abruptly stopped speaking.
Mrs. Hatfield nervously wrung her hands, seeming to struggle with her next words. After a few uncomfortable seconds, she turned and got into her car, not finishing her thoughts.
Van and I glanced at one another, sharing concern, and stepped toward her open window. Despite her outpouring of negativity, and with no words exchanged, we decided to share a gesture of kindness by seeing her off.
The sudden shift in her behavior, not to mention appearing like she was moments from a stroke, caused alarm in both of us. Why she abruptly ended her attack after I pointed out Jamesdidn’t live here either, confused me. Did she want her grandson with her? Did she think I could convince him to live in Missile?
I placed my hands on the edge of the door, her window down, and leaned closer. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
She looked past me at Van, waiting until he moved alongside me. “Don’t think for one moment you can establish a life here, young man,” she warned. Her previously angry expression had eerily dissolved, replaced by an eyes-glazed blank stare. And with a low register to her voice, she locked eyes with Van. “Like you, I see things. And what I see does not bode well for you, young man. Trust me, I’m simply trying to save you a lot of grief.”
“And how is that?” Van inquired, swallowing hard after speaking.
“You’ll see,” she warned, studying both of us before continuing. “Perhaps it’s best James doesn’t get involved in all this drama after all,” she proclaimed, glancing toward me before addressing Van again. “Johnwillcome back. And when he arrives in Missile, his hometown, he’ll want Calvin back from you. And sadly, Calvin will not be able to resist his one true love.”
Mrs. Hatfield rolled her window up and stared expressionlessly through the front windshield for several moments before finally backing up and driving away.
I turned to Van, wondering how her outburst may have impacted him. “I’m sorry about that,” I acknowledged, pulling him to my side.
We watched her car disappear down Main Street. Mr. Jenkins waved from across the street, his head turning toward Mrs. Hatfield’s car. I wondered if he’d witnessed the visit.
“Wow,” Van whispered. “She has some very strong opinions.”
His expression worried me. “Are you okay?”
Van stared at his feet, kicking at the snow. “I wonder if everyone feels the way she does,” he whispered. “Maybe they wish you were still with John.”
“That’s not true,” I assured, squeezing him tighter against my side. “You’ve seen how folks have taken to you at the mercantile. Everyone’s raving about the kind of person you are.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He faced me, offering a weak smile. “I hope so.”
