Gunny spooned up some mashed potatoes—good, but not as good as the parmigiana. She swallowed, took a drink of sweet tea, cleared her throat, and said, “Something worries me, Mama.”
Lulie Saks looked at her daughter over the top of her glasses. If asked, Lulie would say Gunny normally looked dreamy, placid, but looking more closely at her, Lulie did see worry in her daughter’s beautiful light blue eyes. It concerned her because Gunny rarely focused on anything long enough to worry. Lulie did her best to make her daughter’s life stress free, simple, and straightforward, to lay out everything for her so she wouldn’t suddenly get confused, wouldn’t get frustrated. So what if Gunny wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer? She was a good daughter. And so beautiful, she could have been a model. Tall, slender, with rich, wavy mink-brown hair, white skin. If only—no, she wouldn’t go there. It wasn’t fair to Gunny, and it was a waste of time. Besides, Gunny was perfect the way she was. She worked hard at the post office and even helped out at the bakery on weekends.
Gunny didn’t say anything more, only kept eating slowly, chewing thoroughly as Lulie had taught her.
It was time to help her daughter along again.
“What worries you, sweetie? I know you’re not overworked at the post office these days, what with everyone writing emails and not letters, and fewer catalogues than last year going through the postal system. So that means things are slow, right?”
“Work is fine, Mama. But I did hear Mrs. Chamberlain tell Mr. Klem it was a good thing post office workers are all federal employees, so none of them could be fired. Mr. Klem says postal employees are like cowboys, they work until they ride off into the sunset. He laughed and said something like ‘Yep, unless one of the carriers screws a pooch in front of the post office. With fifty witnesses.’?” She’d mimicked Mr. Klem perfectly.
“Mr. Klem said that?”
Gunny nodded. “Mr. Klem says all sorts of things. He’s teaching me his router system, you know, which packages go in this or that route hamper. He said it’d take a while, but I think I’m learning. And all the carriers are really nice. The parmigiana’s really good.”
Lulie stilled. “Thank you, Gunny. None of the men are bothering you, are they?” Since Gunny had turned fifteen, boys had swarmed around her. She was beautiful and kind and she was guileless. Lulie knew some of the boys and men meant well. But to others, once they realized Gunny was simple, eager to please, it made her an easy target. Gunny might have been an easy target once, but Lulie and Gunny’s godfather, Chief of Police Danny Masters, had made a point of teaching her what to do if a boy or a man behaved in a certain way around her. There’d been incidents over the years, sure, but Gunny hadn’t forgotten. Now, at thirty, she knew how to take care of herself.
But what about a husband? Kids? Lulie wanted to cry, had cried over the years alone in her bedroom so Gunny wouldn’t hear her and be worried. But there was little chance of a family for Gunny, and it broke Lulie’s heart.
Gunny said matter-of-factly, “No problems from men, Mama, not since Mr. Gibbs. I told him I was sorry his wife didn’t understand him, but if he didn’t leave me alone, I would kick him and then I’d call my godfather—Chief Masters.” Gunny snapped her fingers and gave Lulie a big grin. “Poof, he backed away like I’d shot him. He’s fine now. It always works when I say Uncle Danny is my godfather.”
Lulie was shocked and appalled. Mr. Gibbs was the owner of Providence B&B. Married forever, four grown kids. That paunchy idiot had harassed her daughter? “Well, I’m going to speak to him, you can count on that.”
“Please don’t, Mama. Mr. Gibbs has stayed away from me for a real long time now. Please don’t worry.”
Her daughter didn’t want her to worry? Was that why Gunny hadn’t told her? She felt a spurt of pride. Gunny had dealt with him, but even so, Lulie burned. Take the lecher to a dark alley and beat the crap out of him, or tell his wife, a sweet woman with no spine? Both had appeal.
Gunny said, “That press conference today over in Willicott, did you see it?”
Lulie shook her head. “I heard talk about it from Mrs. Tucker this afternoon. All those bones at the bottom of Lake Massey and that federal lawyer they found in the lake. It’s very hard to believe. You’re not scared, are you?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s about the belt buckle with the Star of David they found.” Gunny carefully cut another bite, eased it into her mouth, hummed while she chewed. Then, “Well, that’s what worries me, Mama, the Star of David belt buckle. They found it with all the bones, and I don’t see how that could be right.”
“Why couldn’t it be right, Gunny?”
More silence from Gunny. Move it along, come on, sweetie. Lulie drank some tea with its hint of mint and lemon, exactly as her mama had taught her to make it. She thought about the work she still had to do this evening as Gunny gathered her thoughts and ate her dinner. Patience, you had to have a bucketload of patience with Gunny or she’d get frustrated. Finally, Lulie said, “I could understand why all those bones would bother you, Gunny, but why do you care so much about a Star of David on a belt buckle? It sounds very strange.”
A light briefly shined in Gunny’s blue eyes, her father’s eyes, then dimmed.
30
* * *
Patience, patience.
“What about the belt buckle, Gunny?” Lulie asked again and watched her daughter delicately pat her mouth with her napkin, like Lulie had taught her, and scrunch her forehead, thinking hard.
Come on, Gunny, out with it.
“The Star of David belt buckle, Mama, the one they found with all those bones. I don’t see how it got there.”
“What? Oh, I see. Do you know whose belt buckle it was, Gunny?” Of course, if Gunny had seen it, dozens of other people had seen it as well. So what was the problem?
Gunny said, “It belonged to Mr. Henry.”
“Henry LaRoque? Goodness, what a memory you have. He’s been gone for what—five years? What a fine man he was, so friendly, so helpful. Do you know his bank gave me my first loan to remodel Heaven Sent? Gunny, wait, don’t you think the buckle only looked like Mr. Henry’s? I mean, how could it be his?”
Gunny shook her head, raised a hand, and lightly pulled on the long French braid her mother plaited for her every morning, a sure sign she was stewing about something.
“Gunny, if it was indeed Mr. Henry’s belt buckle, then dozens of other people must have seen him wear it, not just you.”
“That’s not true. I might be the only one who ever saw it.”
“But how could that be possible?”
“Mama, you know you always told me how important it is to keep a secret? Well, this is a secret. But maybe, since Mrs. Chamberlain and Mr. Henry were special friends, I could ask her about it. Maybe he showed her, too, maybe she can tell me what to do.”
Lulie nearly fell off her chair. Special friends? Half the town knew Henrietta Chamberlain, Gunny’s supervisor and the real power at the post office, had been Mr. Henry’s lover for years, until he’d died, and had chuckled at the pairing of the same names—Henry and Henrietta. She was floored Gunny knew about it, too. She could picture Gunny asking Mrs. Chamberlain about the belt buckle, picture Mrs. Chamberlain’s embarrassment focusing back on her daughter. But mostly she could picture Mrs. Chamberlain’s pain at being reminded of how horribly Mr. Henry had died. How could it even be true? She said in her firmest voice, “Now, don’t you go bothering your supervisor, Gunny, unless she brings it up, all right?”