After she washed her hands in the bathroom, April closed Sweet Treats and I stood out front and called Austin to inform him of what was going on. He wanted me to keep in touch and let him know where I was because he expected to hear news from Ivan today.
April staggered up the hot sidewalk like a zombie, and I hopped in my car and headed over to Charlie’s house. I’d been there a couple of times for barbecues and had once picked up his mail when he traveled out of town. He lived fifteen minutes away from the shop and when I pulled up to his small, two-bedroom house, something immediately caught my attention.
Several newspapers were scattered across the brown grass.
I picked one up and noticed the date. I began tossing them onto his porch and rang the bell. After a third ring, I walked around the house and peered into the windows, but the drapes were all closed and it was hard to see anything. The garage door was down, so I couldn’t tell if he had gone out of town.
“You lookin’ for Charles?”
A woman in her sixties stood on the edge of the driveway, watering her grass with a green water hose in an attempt to save her dried-up lawn. She had a southern drawl and a scratchy voice that sounded like a cat squalling.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s my boss. Have you seen him?”
A ring of sweat circled beneath the armpits of her blue shirt. She was clearly a woman who didn’t give a damn about water restrictions as she sprayed water on the dirty driveway. She scratched her curly hair, dyed a pale blond, and sprayed another patch of dead grass.
“He’s been sick with cancer. I saw the ambulance here the other night and Lord knows what happened to that man. I don’t think he’s got any family that I know of, except an older woman who came by a few times. I think she’s his sister because her license plate said Ohio. I don’t know who else would drive all the way from Ohio to Hell, unless it was for family.”
Cancer? I knew Charlie hadn’t been feeling well lately, but I had no idea how serious his condition was. “Do you know what kind of cancer? How long has this been going on?”
She pursed her lips. “I reckon a year or two, maybe more. He mentioned it to Daryl once but didn’t say what kind, just that he was getting those treatments. Charles told us his hair was thinning and he bought himself one of those rugs.” She chuckled and sprayed a leaf into the grass. “Ugliest damned thing I ever saw.”
“What hospital?”
“What do I look like, the news channel? I just saw the ambulance come in and drive off. Haven’t seen him since.”
When I got back to my car, I turned down an old Foreigner song and dropped my head against the steering wheel. “Cancer,” I whispered. Had I known, I would have visited him, brought over dinner, and helped Charlie out with any errands he needed done. We were probably stressing him out with work-related calls when he needed someone to take care of him. Charlie didn’t have a family to look after him, and was only in his late fifties.
The rest of the afternoon, I ran errands that were long overdue, including a visit to my mom’s house to check her mail and make sure her bills were taken care of.
I shivered and slid the thermostat up to eighty. No sense in having cold air blowing in an empty house. I grabbed a small bag for Maizy and then stuffed a few of Mom’s clothes into a separate bag. I wasn’t about to prepare for the worst, even though I sat quietly in her bedroom, staring at a picture of us on her dresser.
I packed her root touch-up because she dyed her hair blond and the last time I talked with her, she had mentioned her roots were showing her age again. I didn’t know what she was talking about. She could let her hair go grey and she’d still be the prettiest woman I knew.
The only thing that had changed was I could no longer look forward to looking like her when I grew up.
Chapter 20
“Journey? They’re really breaking out the oldies,” I said with a nostalgic smile. Classic rock still dominated the playlist, and not much had been upgraded at The Pit since my last visit. Best barbecue joint in town and it hadn’t changed in all these years. The walls were the color of the sauce and still decorated with wooden wagon wheels, knotted ropes, and antlers from a dead animal. I never liked staring at animal parts nailed on a wall because the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of what I was actually eating.
Austin lifted the yellow plates off the tray and set them on the wooden table. I had sent him on a mission to order my dinner because I was curious if he would remember what I liked.
“I don’t know how you can eat that,” he remarked, wrinkling his nose at my plate.
I popped the fried okra in my mouth and grinned. “Because okra is good for you.”
“Deep fried?”
It was bustling in here. The families had already vacated and the atmosphere changed, becoming more rowdy. Several groups of single teenage girls sat in clusters while the guys spun around in their seats, whistling and flirting with them.
Some things never change.