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Vice(4)

By:L.M. Pruitt


I sprinted down the hall, stumbling to a stop next to Dana's desk, my  words tumbling out in a stream of nonsense which she somehow managed to  understand. My legs gave out and I slid to the floor, dropping my head  between my knees. My vision wavered and started to go dark and I bit my  lip, the pain clearing away some of the cloudiness.

I was vaguely aware of the hustle and bustle around me but I didn't pay  it any attention, not until a pair of thick-soled black shoes stepped in  to my field of vision. I lifted my head as Pete knelt in front of me,  his basset hound face even droopier than normal. We stared at each other  for a moment before I took a deep breath. "Say it fast."

"She's gone, Jeannie."

And so was the rest of my life.





CHAPTER THREE





The next week was a blur, somehow managing to go too fast and too slow  all at the same time. Loretta hadn't had any life insurance-not that it  would have made a difference since most insurance companies are  sticklers for the whole ‘no-suicide' clause-so I'd dug in to my savings  and paid for everything in cash. Even keeping things as plain and simple  as possible without being insulting had cost me close to five thousand  dollars. I wasn't bankrupt but my fallback cushion was a helluva lot  less comfy than I liked.         

     



 

My oldest nephew and niece, Johnny and June-Loretta had loved her  country music-hadn't made the funeral. Johnny was in the middle of a  five year stretch in the penitentiary for car theft and June... well,  she'd run off with her English teacher two years ago, right after her  seventeenth birthday. Nobody had seen or heard from her since although  if the English teacher's ex-wife was to be believed, they'd gone west to  Nevada. At least that was the address the child support checks came  from-court-ordered, of course.

None of Loretta's ex-husbands had shown up, either. The first was Johnny  and June's father and if I was being honest I hadn't expected to see  him. The second was responsible for Tammy while the third could lay  claim to Dolly and Conway. Not that any of them ever had-once they shook  Cotton Creek's dust off their boots, they were gone, well and truly.  Not that they weren't talked about-even at the funeral, more than a few  people had been more than a bit liberal with their discussion of  Loretta's love life.

Was it any wonder my head was pounding like a fucking drum?

"Aunt Jeannie."

I didn't curse but I dearly wanted to. Keeping my eyes closed, I said, "What, Tammy."

"Well, I'm thinking we need to talk."

And here I was thinking I needed about six beers and a couple of Vicodin  so I could sleep through the night. Biting back a sigh, I opened my  eyes. "Tammy, it's been a helluva day. I think we'd all be better off  waiting until tomorrow to have any kind of discussion."

"I already put Dolly and Conway to bed so it's just you and me." She  lowered herself to the sofa across from me, tucking the hem of her  knee-length skirt tight around her. She'd been blessed-or rather  cursed-with my genetics but between her babysitting money and Loretta,  she was able to afford clothes which actually fit, so she still looked  like a teenager and not a pinup girl. Pushing her chin length hair  behind her ears, she said, "I think you and I need to talk about what's  going to happen next."

"Tammy, at the moment the only thing I want to happen is sleep. Lots and  lots of sleep." I stretched my legs out, examining my toenails. I'd  planned on getting a pedicure while I was in Atlanta, mostly because I  was bored with my pink polish. Now, I'd either have to find someone in  town or drive two hours to the nearest good-sized city. "It's been a  long day."

Long and miserable and if the look on my niece's face was any indication it was far from over.

"Well, yes, but I think me and Dolly and Conway have a right to know  what's going to happen to us." She lifted her chin and looked down her  nose at me, the snooty effect somewhat ruined by the trembling lower lip  she couldn't quite control. "Whether we're going to get shipped off to  some home somewhere or get hauled all over God's green creation while  you do your work."

"I know Loretta liked to keep a bottle of Jim Beam in the back of the  top kitchen cabinet." I narrowed one eye and raised my brows. "You  haven't been sneaking any of it, have you?"

"No." If she was feigning her shock, I sure hoped she was putting her  acting skills to use in Drama Club. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, a little bit because that's what I would do but mostly because  you're sitting over there talking nonsense like you're three sheets to  the wind." I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed. "Nobody is going  anywhere, Tammy. Not even me."

Which was only one more reason for the low grade headache I'd been  carrying around the last week. Any moment I hadn't spent dealing with  the funeral I'd been on the phone with either Bill or Allison, doing  everything I could to rearrange not only the magazine but my life. I'd  have my furniture and clothes and other odds and ends within the next  few days-Allison had already found someone to sublet the apartment, so I  didn't need to worry about that expense. I'd bitten the bullet and  hired on three new writers, all of them more than eager to travel all  over the country and sleep in shitty hotels. I was, for the foreseeable  future, riding a desk.

"But Ms. Jones said-."

"Tammy, I'm surprised your mother didn't tell you but one of the last  people you should listen to about anything requiring more than two brain  cells is Dana Jones." The headache was only getting stronger and I knew  if I didn't take something and soon I was going to wind up with the  sort of migraine which knocked me out for two or three days. "Come on,  let's go in the kitchen."         

     



 

The room was laughably small, the dishes scattered everywhere only  emphasizing the lack of space. People had brought food, the way they  always do when something tragic and gossip-worthy happens. I wasn't fond  of tuna casserole or Frito Pie but I was less fond of cooking and, as  I'd been told often enough growing up, beggars can't be choosers.  Granted, I wasn't exactly a beggar these days but it just seemed rude  and wasteful to turn down free food.

It took a few tries but I finally found the Tylenol. Ignoring Tammy's  impatient sighs, exaggerated in the way only a teenager can do, I poured  myself a glass of Mrs. Sheriff Underwood's-and Lord was that a  mouthful-sweet tea, using it to wash down the medicine. It was cold  enough and sweet enough to make my teeth ache but I was sick of coffee  and water. Sitting down at the table opposite Tammy, I said, "You want  to know what's going to happen next. I wish I had a simple, clear-cut  answer but the truth is I don't."

"Mama always said if anything happened to her you would take care of  us." Tammy pressed her lips together, widening her eyes and blinking  rapidly. After a moment, she let out a long, shuddering breath. "I guess  that means we're moving."

"Well, yeah." I glanced around the kitchen, not quite able to hold back a  grimace. "I mean, I know Loretta did her best but I'm sorry, if I'm  moving back to this place I'm not living in a single wide trailer with  no air conditioner a good thirty minutes from town."

"So we're staying here? In Cotton Creek?"

"I would swear I said that earlier and I know I said it just now." I  took another sip of tea, sighing at the cool, refreshing taste. I hadn't  missed a lot of things about Cotton Creek-probably less than a dozen,  truth be told-but I'd missed Betsey Underwood's sweet tea. "I know what  Loretta wanted. Providing there isn't an issue with the judge or  whoever, I'll do what she wants."

I knew I didn't have to worry about any of the fathers-Loretta had gone  to court and had their parental rights terminated once they skipped  town. I'd had a lawyer look over all the papers for guardianship when  Loretta had sent them to me and he'd promised me everything was on the  up and up. There was still a chance the judge would decide to send the  kids to foster care but it was a slim chance. People didn't like to  break up families in Cotton Creek.

"But you said we're moving."

"Hmm?" I stared at Tammy for a moment, trying to remember what we were  talking about before I let my mind wander. "Right. We are moving. I'm  looking at the subdivision on the north side of town. If not there, then  maybe somewhere near the school."

I had an appointment with a realtor-or rather the single realtor in  town-in the morning. I'd had Allison take care of all the paperwork to  get approval for a home loan and I could use about half of the money  left in my savings for a down payment. I'd been tucking money away with  the idea of purchasing a loft in Savannah for when I got tired of  traveling so I wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of home ownership.