Annie drops down on the bench when someone opens the screen door. She pulls the sheriff’s shirt into her lap and holds the button between two fingers.
The sheriff walks outside first, followed by Ellis Baine. Annie stands at the sight of him, the sheriff’s shirt falling to her feet. He’s been nothing but a name all these years, Ellis Baine. Someone to hate because that’s what Hollerans did with Baines. Even people as far away as New York City knew Hollerans were meant to hate Baines. But here he is, Ellis Baine, wearing clothes no different than the other fellows. Wearing a hat no different. He’s not so large as she thought a legend would be. She didn’t have to get this close to know he’s more handsome than most any man in town. She knew that the moment she saw him sitting at her kitchen table. Maybe he’s even more handsome than Daddy, but his face isn’t so kind as Daddy’s. He reaches out a hand to Annie and she takes it, and she wonders if Ellis Baine might be her daddy. It would be easier to think about this man being her real daddy than a man buried upside down at the crossroad into town.
“Ellis Baine,” he says, his voice deep and scratchy like he needs to clear his throat.
His hand is rough and more like a leather glove than a hand. It wraps around Annie’s and squeezes and holds on a moment longer than need be.
“Annie Holleran,” she says, and maybe it’s because she’s older now and Mama says folks learn to think not so much about themselves and more about others as they get older, or maybe it’s because she’s just now seeing that Ellis Baine is a plain, ordinary man, but Annie Holleran realizes she’s the aftermath of something terrible that happened in this man’s life and is some kind of a reminder to him. Maybe a good one, maybe not. It’s their histories leaching up from the ground and they’re all tangled together.
“You favor Juna,” he says, again looking at the parts that make her up.
“Yes, sir.”
He looks her in the eyes. Not many folks do that. Some try. They take a quick glance, but then they’re afraid of what might happen. They blink, look off to the side of her or over her head. Ellis Baine, he looks her square in the eye, even tips forward to get closer. Like the sheriff, Ellis might be wondering if Annie did something to his mama, if she’s evil like Juna. But because he lays his head off a bit to the right and then the left, he’s looking for something he’s straining to see, not something he’s afraid to see. He’s looking for some sign of Joseph Carl. Or maybe some sign of himself.
The sheriff giving Ellis a pat on the back is the thing that stops him from staring at Annie. He pulls on his hat, dips it in the direction of the kitchen window, where Mama stands so she can watch from inside. At this, Daddy grabs hold of Annie’s arm and drags her to his side. He squeezes her arm so tight she wants to cry out but knows it’s not the time for thinking of herself. Ellis shakes the sheriff’s hand, and as he walks down the stairs, Mama steps away from the window and Annie realizes something else. It must be proof positive she’s growing up and finding more room to consider others and not just herself no matter how it might make her hurt inside. Mama once loved Ellis Baine, maybe still does.
? ? ?
THE CLOUDS MUST have blown in while Annie was busy listening to everyone in the kitchen, and by the time she reaches the field, where she knows she’ll find Ryce, her hair is clinging to the sides of her face and her clothes are soaked through. It’s a light rain, barely enough to pool in the ditches or the low spots in the dirt road, but the drops are large. They fall that way, fat and heavy, because someone has died. Because Mrs. Baine has died. Ever since Daddy stood in the living room and said Cora Baine was gone, Annie has known the rain would eventually come and next will come, hopefully will come, the thunder. It’ll mean Mrs. Baine has passed on to a peaceful place, and then maybe Annie will find peace too. The spark in the air and the yearnings and the coming of the lavender will fade, and Annie will find peace.