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Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes

Page 17

   


I hadn’t considered that, along with most everything else in my life, it seemed. I went to my bedroom and dug through the drawers for an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, self-conscious about changing with Joe in the next room. I assured myself it was unlikely he had X-ray vision. If he had it in his head to attack me, he would have done it already.
When I returned, he had drop cloths spread all over the floor.
“I don’t remember buyin’ that many.” I said, puzzled.
“You didn’t. A couple are mine. You could have made do with the two you bought, but you would have to keep movin’ them around. It’ll be easier this way.”
My mouth dropped.
He saw my hesitation. “If I overstepped my….”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m marvelin’ at how nice you’re bein’ and tryin’ to figure out why.”
His eyebrows raised. “I’m not sure what you’re talkin’ about. People can be nice without an underlyin’ motive.”
“Not to me they don’t.”
“Why not?”
Our eyes locked and he studied me, trying to figure out what I meant. He obviously didn’t know me yet. This friendship won’t last. I warned myself. Don’t get used to him.
“Never mind,” I mumbled and went out into the kitchen. My heart stopped at the sight of the shopping bags. He had to have gone through them to get out the drop clothes. Did he see the nightie? But the Walmart sack looked undisturbed. Feeling lightheaded, I took out the curtains and set them on the table, wadded up the bag with the nightie still inside, and stuffed it into the dishtowel drawer. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and went back into the living room.
Before I knew it, we were both painting. I wanted to remind Joe that he claimed he wasn't going to help, but I knew better than push my luck. He was better and faster at it than me.
When Joe finished a wall, I stepped back and took a good look, clasping my hands to my chest. “I love it!” I exclaimed, giddy with happiness. “It looks like early mornin’ sunshine!”
He turned to me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I suppose it does.”
We were almost done with the first coat when Violet burst through the side door. “Oh, thank God you’re all right! I’ve been tryin’ to call you all day! Why won’t you answer the phone? I thought somethin’ happened to you! What on earth are you doin’?”
Her rapid-fire questions made me I feel like I’d just been pelted with a BB gun. “I’m paintin’ the livin’ room,” I glance over my shoulder. “Well, we’re paintin’ the room.”
Violet was livid. “Why would you be redecoratin’ when Momma’s not even buried in the ground? It’s bad enough that you’re accused of killin’ our mother, now you’re redecoratin’? What are people gonna say, Rose?”
If Violet had slapped me in the face, it couldn't have hurt worse.
Joe cleared his throat. “I know this is none of my business, but Rose isn’t redecoratin’. She’s coverin’ up the blood that was spread all over the wall. I offered to help her since she’d never painted before.”
Violet’s face told me that she never thought about the aftereffects of a violent crime on home furnishings.
“And her phone is out until Wednesday,” Joe added.
Violet wasn’t about to let her anger go so easily. “See? All the more reason not to stay here! You have no phone if you get into trouble or if somethin’ happens!”
Defiance riled up and I put a hand on my hip. “I got a cell phone this mornin’. I can use it if I need to.”
“You what?”
“It’s the twenty-first century. Everybody has a cell phone.”
“Rose, honey, why do you need a cell phone? Honestly, who are you gonna call?”
I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling and looking even more like a fool in front of Joe. “I’m not leavin’ with you. Violet. I’m stayin’ here.”
We glared at each other, both of us sure we were right and the other was wrong. I knew I’d thrown her for a loop. Right there in my half-painted living room, I realized the truth of it. I had always done what I was told, whether Momma, who did it out of spitefulness, or Violet, who loved me dearly and thought she knew what was best. No matter the reason, I’d always done what I was told. Standing up to Violet threw her world off its axis.
“Goodbye, Violet,” I said in an icy tone. I loved the stuffing out of her, but I was so angry I could spit.
“Rose…” Realizing that her bulldozing had backfired, she softened her outrage.
“Goodbye, Violet.” If I backed down on this, I’d never be able to stand up to her again.
Violet looked torn as she turned to the door.
Joe took a step toward her.“I’m right next door if Rose needs me.”
She let her anger loose on him. “You were right next door when our Momma was killed, too. A lot of good that did her.” And with that she whipped around and walked out the door.
My mouth dropped open in shock. I’d never seen Violet be so rude.
Joe shut the door behind her and paused.
“Joe, I apologize for my sister’s behavior.”
He turned around to face me. “She’s right, you know.”
“What?”
“I was next door when your mother was killed and I didn't hear a thing. You’d be safer if you went with Violet.”