After work, I went home and dropped my briefcase off in the carriage house, then walked through the garden and up the short path to the main house. I was only outside the comfort of air conditioning for less than a minute, but the brief time outdoors resulted in a nice coat of sweat.
My mind was still on Poles when I opened the back door. My mother was in the kitchen. Dinner was already done, simmering in a pot on the stove. She was now baking cookies, but from the look on her face I knew that the cookies were just a pretext. She was actually waiting for me, wanting to intercept me before I got too far inside.
“Justin.” She forced her face to soften, and then her eyes glanced back to the other room. “How was the office?”
“OK.” I walked over to her and gave her a quick hug. “How’s Sammy?”
“Fine.” My mother scooped some dough onto a cookie sheet. “Watching a movie upstairs, eating popcorn. Not saying much.”
“I’ll go check on her.”
“Wait.”
I knew it was coming. “OK.” I stopped, curious. “What’s going on?”
My mother looked around, making sure that we were alone. “Annie and Lincoln are here.”
“Both of them?”
My mother didn’t respond at first, then added, “Buster, too.”
“Buster.” It came out louder than I expected. “After everything, Lincoln brought that snake.” My mood had flashed from blue to red. “Gonna pop that—”
“Justin.” My mother held out her hands. “Think of Sammy. Calm down a minute before you go in.”
“What do they want?”
“Your father’s coming into town this weekend.” My mother’s voice got quieter. “I think you know what they want.”
“Get him out of here.” I pointed at Buster, who was standing on the far side of the parlor with Lincoln. “Can’t hardly look at him. Can’t believe you brought him here.”
Buster stood up a little taller. The wrestler’s hands had turned into fists. He was ready to fight, if necessary, but Lincoln patted him on the back and guided him toward the door.
Annie watched from a chair in the corner. I couldn’t figure why she’d conspire with two people who were ready and willing to destroy her career. I looked at her with disgust. “You invite him?”
“Of course not.” She looked at Lincoln and then back at me. “I’m here because your mother called me this morning. She was worried about you.” She looked over at Lincoln. “She was worried about what you were going to do to your brother.”
“My mom’s a smart lady.” I watched as Lincoln leaned out the doorway, whispered something to Buster, and shut the parlor door. To him, I said, “A phone call would have been nice.” I turned away, shaking my head. “When is an ambush ever a good idea?”
I stared at the large painting on the main wall of the downstairs parlor, a dramatic image of a farm on a hill by Saint Louis artist Joe Jones from 1936. It was as if the land were lifting the farmstead up to the gods as a sacrifice, just as a storm rolled in.
I lost myself in the painting, allowing myself to calm down.
Lincoln and Annie waited me out, until finally I said to Lincoln, “I guess I have to listen to you now.” I kept staring at the painting. “But I’m only doing it for Mom and Dad.”
“You gonna sit down with me or what?”
I took a breath and turned around.
Lincoln was now on the couch. Annie was still in her corner chair.
“Suppose I will.” I walked over and sat in the chair across from Lincoln, still cold to the situation. “You called the meeting.”
Lincoln looked at Annie and then back at me. “Brother, we gotta—”
I held up my hand. “You gonna brother me right out the gate? That’s your approach? Where have you been for the past month? Sending Buster out to follow me—probably him in the alley. Blackmailing Annie. How about you start with an apology?” I pointed at him. “Apologize.”
“Ain’t nobody send Buster out to follow you, OK?” Lincoln looked at Annie. “OK?” When neither of us said anything back, he sighed. “I apologize.” He waited a moment, checking on my response. “How’s that?” Lincoln waited another beat and then backtracked. “But I didn’t tell Buster to do anything.” I started to interrupt, but Lincoln talked over me. “That’s why I brought him. That’s why he was here, and you can call him later if you want. He’ll tell you.”
I dismissed it, even if it was true. I wasn’t going to let my brother go that easy. “He’ll say whatever you want him to say. You’re unbelievable.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “You want to talk or not?” He held out his hands in surrender. “I’m here in good faith. Here to work this through. You want to yell at me, go for it. Get it all out. I got all night.” He looked at Annie again for confirmation, but she remained silent. “But we gotta work this out now.”
“Everything’s on your schedule, huh?”
“No,” he said. “It’s on Dad’s schedule. He set it, not me.” Lincoln waited for me to disagree. When I didn’t, he continued. “Here’s the deal, brother—straight talk.” Lincoln edged closer, becoming a bit more aggressive. “You two ain’t no secret.” He looked at Annie and then back at me. “You think the mayor doesn’t get noticed in this town? You think you two can have an intimate conversation at a bar or a lovely dinner together on The Hill and nobody’s going to notice?” He looked at us like we were two teenagers that had been sneaking out at night. “People know. With or without Buster doing or telling anybody, people know.” He nodded. “That’s the truth, and it’s a problem.”
To Annie, Lincoln said, “It ain’t gonna be broke in the traditional media, but they’re waiting. Come election time, a blog will do something and then the newspapers and television will cover it through the back door. The story will purportedly be about the blog post and the identity of the anonymous blogger, but it’ll really be about you. First woman mayor is an adulterer. The end. You’re done.”
Lincoln turned to me. “And you don’t get much more of a pass, big brother. You can play the lonely widower card, but I don’t think there’s gonna be much sympathy. They’re building you up now, so there’s a bigger fall. Folks are already sniffing around Sammy’s school. We got truancy issues, and now there’s that fight.”
With that I stood up. “Leave her out of it.”