Background
Miranda Jessup Buckley is in trouble again.
|
So far, Miranda is raising Waylon, the son of her ex-lover. Since Dougie disappeared, Miranda has had temporary custody, but suddenly Dougie is back. She is afraid that he is here to take his son, Waylon back. She catches two shoplifters in the Little Eagle and decides to handle things with out involving the law.
************************************************************************************************
I mop the floors twice more after Brenda and Alice leave. Brenda kept apologizing and would randomly start tearing up while she cleaned. Alice didn't do much cleaning at all. She wrinkled her nose at the whole process and would utter, "It looks like you've got it all," every time I stuck the mop back in the bucket. Alice didn't know the first thing about housekeeping, and by the look of her watch and gaudy rings on her fingers, I would put money on the fact that she had a maid for most of her life.
I roll the bucket out back and tip it to let the dirty water out. The sheriff's car slowly comes around the corner. Mitch waves and turns on his lights. "You there, drop your weapon," he calls over the speaker.
"Isn't that abuse of power?" I ask as he rolls up beside me.
He has the window down and lowers his mirror sunglasses to look at me. "Sorry, I thought you had a weapon. Honest mistake." He turns off the car and gets out. "How's your day been?"
I think about the morning. Crazy would be the right description but it actually took my mind off of the whole Dougie being back thing. "I caught two shoplifters."
"Did you call it in? I never heard anything come across the radio."
"I didn't. Sorry, but this was one I could handle myself."
"Kids stealing penny candy?"
I smile at his naivety, penny candy. How long has it been since the man bought a pack of gum? "No. It was two women smuggling wine out in their boobs."
His eyebrows shoot up. "Okay," he says hesitantly, "you should have called the police. I'm going to assume the bottles weren't valued at over one hundred dollars, but it's still a class C misdemeanor. They would have had to pay a fine, at the very least."
I lean close to him and kiss the end of his nose. "And, that is exactly why I didn't call you. These were two old ladies who were trying to celebrate one of their birthdays. Besides, Brenda needed a little confidence enhancer to meet the strippers."
Mitch opens his mouth but shuts it without saying anything. "Busy tonight after work?"
As much as I'd love to spend time with Mitch, I need to get home to check on Waylon. "I think Waylon is going to need company. Rain check?"
"Sure. Has Dougie called anymore?"
I shake my head.
"Well, when he does, get a number from him. He and I need to have a little talk." He kisses my cheek and climbs back inside the cruiser as the radio crackles to life. He lifts the mike and starts talking, winking at me as I start to roll the bucket back inside.
***********************************************************************************************
Aaron's truck isn't at his place so I'm surprised when I find Waylon sitting on the steps to the porch. He's watching a video on his phone and when he looks up at me, the bluish light from the screen casts dark shadows under his eyes.
"Did you lock yourself out?" I tease.
"No. Just sitting outside to get some fresh air. Heard next week is supposed to be rainy most of the time." He looks out past me, into the darkness.
I know this kid. He's had his thinking time and with that came the realization that Dougie still hasn't called him or tried to make contact. "Well, we do need the rain. I'm afraid Mrs. Fine might combust next time she lights one of her cigarettes," I tease. "Thinking about your dad, aren't you?"
He doesn't answer, just gives me a knowing side eye. "Do all parents act like this?"
"I just know my own, but no, they never did stuff like this. And, I doubt you'll pull stuff like this when you have kids. I can't make up excuses for him, so I won't. Dougie is Dougie. I'm sure his reasons are valid to him."
He props himself back on his elbows and looks up at the sky.
"How's your teacher been?"
Again with the side eye. "I just keep telling myself that I only have him for one semester."
I pat his knee and use it to push myself up. "You'll make it. I was never a teacher's pet. I can give you pointers on flying under the radar."
"Mind if I take my shower?" he asks.
"Go right ahead."
We walk into the trailer and I put my work vest on the counter and search the fridge for a beer. There are none to be had so I grab some orange juice, and pour myself a small glass. Waylon's notebooks and chrome book are splayed out on the kitchen table. I need to pay some bills so I start putting papers away, and go over to plug in his chrome book so it will charge and be ready for school tomorrow. I can hear the shower running. I open his folder that has Marine Biology written in his messy script on the cover. There are papers shoved in there like a maniac has been through it. His other folders are neat and the papers are pristine. But this one doesn't even seem to belong to the same kid. I start flipping through the papers. Red marks are all over the work. I pull a report out that I know he worked on for days. Scribbled across the front cover is a nasty note from Tomlin.
"This is a paper that might make a seventh grader proud but you are in the eleventh grade. Margins are wrong. Didn't support your points with facts. Maybe if you read the book I assigned, you would have been more prepared." Right next to the note was a C minus.
I slip his notebooks and folders into his backpack and close my eyes. Conjuring the face of Mr. Tomlin, I visualize myself walking into the classroom and smacking the smug look off of his face.
"Oh, Mr. Tomlin, you and I are going to have a come to Jesus meeting. Yes we are."