Jodi Thomas - Twisted Creek

She looked around the store with only mild interest. “Where’s my mother?” she asked.

“In the kitchen,” I said and pointed. I followed her, thinking I should at least be civil to the woman who gave birth to me. “How have you been, Mother?” She was no more important to me than I’m sure Nana was to her. In this family, the word “mother” was not an endearment.

“I’m fine.” She turned and smiled her perfect, capped-tooth smile. “I was promoted last year. That darling car”-she waved one manicured finger in the direction of the front door as if I might get her car and another on the lot mixed up-“was a bonus. I’m doing well, but working far too many hours. It seems I’m the only one who knows anything around the office. They all depend on me.”

I’d never known what my mother did. Some kind of secretary, I think. She always traveled with the boss, but the boss’s name changed from one letter to the next.

“How’d you find us?” I knew the lawyer in Lubbock had called her when Jefferson died. She hadn’t bothered to call us and I hadn’t called her when we moved here. For once I thought it would be a waste of time.

She raised a perfect, painted-on eyebrow. “It wasn’t easy. When Garrison Walker didn’t call me back after a few weeks, I guessed he must have gotten in touch with you about the property I inherited.”

“You?”

Nana came through the swinging door and Carla turned without acting like she heard me. “Mother!” she screamed as if they’d been separated by a war.

Nana blinked, then smiled. “Carla, dear, you’ve come back.”

Carla gave her a Hollywood hug, all breasts and pats, no holding or kissing. Nana smiled as if Carla were one of the kids she used to cook for in the cafeteria.

“It’s so good to see you.” Nana pulled her neck back like a turtle and waited for Carla to finish patting on her.

“It’s been too, too long.” Carla looked like she gave a second’s thought to crying.

Luke swung through the door with a tray of cups.

Carla took one look at him and straightened to a pose. “And who are you?” she asked as she sized him up. “Let me guess. Too old for my mother. Too much of a man for my baby, but definitely prime-cut.”

I tasted bile in my throat. My mother was playing Goldilocks. I expected her to say that Luke looked like he was just right for her.

Luke’s blue eyes darkened, more with suspicion than interest, and I fought the urge to run over to kiss him. My mother drew men like flies to watermelon, but Luke didn’t look like he planned to be her next victim.

“I’m Luke Morgan. I’ve got the place next door.” He didn’t offer his hand or waste a moment longer than necessary looking at her.

Carla glanced back at me. “That”-she pointed at his back-“could make things very interesting around this dull place.” She turned a full smile to Luke as he glanced back. “I’m Carla Daniels, and it looks like we are going to be neighbors. Feel free to come over any time for a cup of sugar or something.”

I looked down, not knowing how to explain my mother to him and not wanting to explain him to her.

He leaned close to me. “Where do you want me to put these, Allie?”

He knew where the cups went, but the brush of his arm against mine made me look up. I saw understanding, not judgment, in his eyes.

“Over by the coffee.”

Carla made a show of taking off her gloves and hat. “This place isn’t much, but it will do. I knew that old man would leave it to me. He was tickled to death to meet me. Couldn’t stop asking me all kinds of questions.”

I turned back to Carla, wishing a house would fall on her. If it did, I’d gladly take her ruby shoes. “He didn’t leave it to you. Jefferson Platt left it to me.”

She shrugged. “Oh, that was just a mistake. He meant to leave it to me. I’ll get it cleared up with the lawyer.”

If she hadn’t said my greatest fear, I might have ordered her off the property, but deep down I’d known owning this place was too good to be true. I’d known it was a mistake from the first.

“Don’t worry,” she said as she walked around taking inventory, ‘I’ll let you and Nana visit whenever you like. At least until I sell this place. The store isn’t much, but the property should be worth something.”

Nana picked up the empty cups left scattered on the tables and said simply, “I’m not leaving.” She disappeared into the kitchen before Carla could answer.

“Oh yes you are.” Carla stormed toward the door. “I’ve no plans to take in freeloaders.”

She made it three steps before Luke’s arm shot out and stopped her.

Carla fought him for a moment, then stilled. “Let go of me.” Anger melted away any progress makeup had made against age. “Or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for assault.”

“We don’t have a phone,” I answered with far more composure than I felt. “The only one around here is up at Mrs. Deals’s place and it went out during the storm last night.”

Carla didn’t seem to hear me. She was trying to stare down Luke.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but this is my place and I’ll not be manhandled by you or anyone else.”

“I think you’d better leave,” he said in a voice that was so calm it made even me nervous.

Carla’s eyes darted to me for help. She found no ally. Though Luke held her arm, most of her anger had shifted to me. “You’re making a big mistake. You can’t just come in and squat on my property. I’ll have you and the old lady arrested and carried off if I have to.”

When she finally took a deep breath, Luke let go of her arm, but didn’t move out of her way. He studied her with interest, but not anger.

“This is my place.” I finally managed to put words together. “My name was on the will.”

Carla straightened her clothes. “I know, but it was just a misunderstanding. You see, I visited Jefferson Platt here years ago. I told him about you and Nana and he must have gotten our names mixed up.”

“I knew him all my life and I never heard him mention you,” Luke said. “He talked about Allie all the time. There was no mistake. Everyone on the lake knew he’d be leaving Jefferson’s Crossing to her one day.”

“You’re wrong. It’s mine.”

“It’s Allie’s place,” he said again as if he were talking to a child. “Nana and her belong here.”

“Like hell.” Carla flashed that wounded, little girl look that didn’t quite work on a woman in her forties. “It’s mine, and if I have to I’ll go to the lawyer and the sheriff to prove it.”

“Go ahead.” Luke didn’t even seem bothered by her threat.

Carla glanced at me. “Nana will give it to me if I ask. You know she will. If I tell her I really need it, she’ll just hand it over.”

“I’ve already told you, Nana doesn’t own this place. Allie does.”

Carla steamed. I could almost see the curl falling out of her dyed hair. “We’ll see about that.”

Before I could say a word, she stormed out, climbed into her emerald green car, and scattered rocks as she drove away.

“She’ll be back.” I leaned against the door frame. “Even if she doesn’t want the place, she’ll try to take it away from me.”

Luke rested his arm just above my head and moved close. “Why would she want to hurt you, kid?”

“Because she blames me for ruining her life. She has since the day I was born. She left me with Nana when I was three and never came back for me.” I looked up at him, not knowing whether to be happy or sad. “Until today I think a part of me always thought she would remember that I was around and magically turn into a loving mother.”

“And now?”

We heard Nana singing a hymn in the kitchen. “Now I’m glad she never came back for me.”

He leaned closer and kissed me on the nose. “You know, Allie, I think you’re a wonder in this world. After knowing Nana and you, I think I’d make that woman driving away take a blood test to prove she’s part of the same family.”

I laughed. “I’ll ask her that next time. From what I can tell, Nana’s given her everything she could and it was never enough.” I closed my eyes. “And now she wants this place.”

“She won’t get it.”

Willie waved as he putted by in his little boat. Luke straightened away from me and I wished we’d had another moment alone. One more minute and he might have had me believing his words.

Dillon showed up after school. He said his folks wouldn’t expect him home until after football practice and since he was benched he didn’t see any problem with skipping.

The bruises from the night before had darkened to almost black, but his eyes were clear of the drugs. He was a boy on the edge of becoming a man. I wasn’t sure if keeping last night a secret would help him or hurt him.

We circled our chairs on the porch where the afternoon light blinked bright through trees almost bare of leaves.

Luke asked me to try and draw as Dillon described the man who sold him drugs along the bridge road. I never knew how hard it would be to draw another person’s memory. Police artists always seemed to have an easy job in movies. Dillon said the man was average height, thin, and over thirty.

“How much over,” Luke prodded.

Dillon shook his head. “I don’t know. People over thirty pretty much look the same to me until they hit the old level and start to mold into shades of gray.”

“How thin?”

“Thin. He didn’t seem much more than a hanger for the clothes he wore. I’d bet anything the guy never worked out.”

“Do you remember the color of his clothes?”

“No. It was dark and I wanted to make the buy and get out of there as fast as possible. I drove over the bridge, then about another hundred yards and flashed my lights twice. A guy at school said most nights he’s not there, but if he is, he’d flash back from the trees.”

Dillon shivered. “I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw a small light blink back at me, but I put the car in park and waited. He came up to the window and we didn’t waste any time talking.”