Stardust A Novel (8 page)
On the radio, Hank Williams finished with a flourish as Doreen did a little jig, her steps light. She made a final swoosh over the rack of keys. “You’re right. Looks as if it’ll have to wait. It’s time to show you around.”
“And give me a crash course in business management and the fine art of innkeeping.”
“You’ll be fine.” She waved me back to a door in the corner of the office. On the way I noted the rocking chair where Doreen had rested, waiting for travelers. Maybe not rested, for she always had a lapful of yarn, her knitting needles clacking, or I would find her reading
Capper’s Weekly
and clipping recipes. Sometimes pasting the recipes in a notebook.
This wasn’t the time to dawdle, so I followed Doreen into the living quarters behind the office. The smell of ointment and sickness hit me first. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about Paddy. Or people dying.
A modest open area served as both kitchen and living room. Seating space on the right. A line of cupboards in a small L-shape on the left. A round oak table straddled the two areas. Doreen assured me the men from the church would clear everything out, and I could see they had a tall order to fill—the accumulation of a lifetime.
“Over here is the bedroom Paddy and I shared. I’m thinking you’ll want the girls to stay in here. The light is nice and cheery in the mornings. And if you don’t mind, I’ll leave this wardrobe since there’s not much closet to speak of.”
I told her, “Of course,” and tried to picture the girls’ twin beds. Yes, they would fit, along with their chest of drawers. But before I had time to do more than a quick calculation in my head, Doreen had shooed me along, showed me the bathroom—also small but adequate—and then ushered me into the sunporch.
“We added this a few years back. We loved to sit out here of a morning with the view of the cottages so we could tell if any of the guests came our way to check out. We could still watch out the other side for any deer coming up from the woods.” She pointed toward Zion. It didn’t look so far from this vantage point. Just separated by the length of a couple of football fields. A skittish feeling came over me. It also wasn’t that far from where O’Dell washed up. I turned away from the window and surveyed the room. This would be my room by default, but it was large and airy feeling with windows on three sides. Weatherproof, it seemed. Room for a stuffed chair on one side, my bedroom furniture on the other. Even though I’d have a view of Zion, I couldn’t let O’Dell’s happenstance landing there color my thoughts. Shoot, every street, sidewalk, and business establishment in Mayhaw had reminders of O’Dell.
Doreen clucked her tongue and motioned me to the breezeway that connected the “quarters” to the washhouse that the child, Merciful, had pointed out. The workroom was utilitarian and more than adequate, with spare linens stacked neatly on open shelves, an old wringer washer, and a newer automatic one. A pressing machine stood against the back wall, and I imagined Merciful and her momma working in this room as warmth and moisture swirled together in a hive of activity. Already I was hoping they would help me get ready for the grand reopening of the Stardust.
And almost as if she read my mind, Doreen turned around. “I used to take care of all the housekeeping myself, but for a few years now, I’ve resorted to hiring help. Best thing I ever did. You’d be doing them and yourself a favor to have Ludi come help.”
“Ludi?”
“Ludi Harper. She lives over yonder.” She pointed to the trees.
“How do I get in touch with her? Is there a road somewhere I haven’t seen?”
“Nothing but a trail connects Zion to Mayhaw. The road they use is out a ways, off the road to the lumber mill. Easy to get lost out there, though, so if you want them to help, you can do what I do and hang a sheet out on the clothesline. Ludi will be here before you can snap your fingers and turn around three times.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that… when I’m further along with the plans.”
“Take your time, sweetie. You’ve got five or six weeks until Memorial Day. That’s when we always get the first big string of travelers.”
She showed me the cottages, and there was no doubt it would take every bit of that time to get them ready for paying guests. The bedspreads were frayed, broken springs in some of the beds. The units all needed paint, and more than a few had drippy faucets. Surely O’Dell’s back pay would cover the initial repairs until I could sell our house. My heart raced at the ideas swirling in my head.
I was the new owner of the Stardust, a woman with her own business.
My own business.
A home with no reminders of O’Dell aside from the bayou. I would be doing something constructive and be able to remain in Mayhaw, and the glory of it carried me along from cottage to cottage. I even laughed when we got to number five—the one I’d stayed in with Mama and Daddy.
“I bet you have a lot of stories, Doreen, about all the folks who’ve stayed here over the years.”
“Oh, my stars! You wouldn’t believe.” Then she gave a big wink. “That’s something you’ll have to discover yourself.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No, sweetie. All you need to know is Paddy would be happy you’re going to keep the place going. ’Twould be a travesty to let all our memories go to dust.” Her eyes drifted to another place, and for a moment I was envious of her devotion and long marriage.
“All I can say is I’ll try. Ever since O’Dell drowned, I’ve been in limbo… trying to come to grips. It’ll take me awhile to get organized.”
“Sweetie, don’t you know it? Paddy did me a favor by willing you the Stardust, and you’ll do fine. Now, what say we head back to the office and I’ll show you how I do the bookkeeping?”
The radio was still blasting when we got there, with Bobby Carl Applegate’s nasal twang reporting on the farm market. Corn futures. Spring calves. Cotton prices.
Doreen switched off the knob and pulled the ledger from a cabinet beneath the counter. An hour later I had a decent idea of what I needed to know. Receipts. Bills to pay. Names and numbers of assorted vendors who provided supplies. Granted, the Stardust wasn’t fancy. Just a few of those paper-wrapped soaps and whatnot.
“One question, though. You don’t have any checks entered showing you paid Ludi Harper.”
“That’s right. I put her over here in miscellaneous in the ledger. Cash only. Folks over in Zion… some of ’em don’t read or write. Ludi among them.”
“Really? Right here in Musgrave County? I had no idea.”
“Crying shame, but the good Lord didn’t promise life would be fair. Only that he’d walk beside us. And Ludi knows the truth of that.” She laughed and then looked around me. “Well, if that don’t beat all? We just finished, and here’s the crew come to pack my things.”
We went out to greet the caravan of pickup trucks, and before I left, I hugged Doreen. “You know you’ve always got a spot here if you want to come back.”
“Bless you. Even if Paddy insisted on putting that in the will, I’m off for the next leg of my journey. Reckon it’ll be my last.”
“Thank you… for everything. Don’t be a stranger now, okay?”
I’m not sure if she heard me or not as she was directing a half-dozen men where to start packing and loading her things. And as I pulled from the driveway, I looked in the rearview mirror. Fruit basket upset. Doreen leaving. Rosey, Avril, and I coming.
My skin tingled with excitement. A new home. My own business. I looked in the rearview mirror at the neon sign.
Stardust.
Like an old sweet song, the magic flowed through me.
R
osey and Avril acted as if I’d given them a lifetime supply of ice-cream cones when I took them out to the Stardust. They raced through the office and the quarters, their delight echoing in the empty rooms. When I hauled out the wash buckets, they hopscotched on the sidewalks and found stray tree limbs to use for ponies while they pretended they were Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.
Sally brimmed with the same excitement and supervised a cleaning and lawn-mowing crew on Saturday while I slapped robin’s-egg-blue paint on all the walls in the quarters and a more appropriate cream-colored paint in the office. I planned to overhaul the cottages one at a time as soon as we were settled and I had a better picture of our financial status.
On Sunday morning, I could barely move and still had paint under my fingernails, but I got the girls up and took them to Sunday school, hoping to catch Aunt Cora. I found her in the foyer, where she eyed me with a frown. “Sonny tells me you’re going through with it. Says you’ve already hired a crew to do the work.”
“The Magnolia Garden Club has taken over the outdoor projects. I think Sally coaxed all the husbands into doing the mowing, telling them I’d throw a crawfish boil when we had the grand reopening. Beats me how I’m going to figure that out, but I’ll worry about it when the time comes.”
“That’s the problem with you, Georgia—you charge right in without any backup plans.”
“I need a backup plan to have a crawfish boil?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. And it’s not just your finances. I’m speaking of safety issues. A single woman with two children on the highway—”
Hazel Morton scurried up and thanked me for returning her potato salad bowl. “I’m sorry I missed you. Is it true? You’re taking over the Stardust?”
I nodded, aware that Aunt Cora was perturbed by the interruption.
Hazel sidled up to me. “Mighty big job, don’t you know? I was thinking, though, if you need help with some of the heavier work, my grandson, Joey, could sure use a summer job. He’s right handy with a paintbrush.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep him in mind.” I knew Joey. He hung out with a scrappy bunch of kids behind Brookshire’s. Smoking cigarettes. Wolf-whistling at the girls. It wasn’t Hazel’s fault. Matter of fact, some of the goons who did the same thing when I was in high school turned out perfectly respectable. I just didn’t have to expose my girls to them, and as Hazel walked away, Aunt Cora dipped her head in next to mine.
“See? That’s the kind of trouble I see in your future. That Joey is a hoodlum. And you’ll be so worn out from doing all the work yourself, you won’t have time to keep an eye on the girls.”
“Doreen gave me a recommendation for someone to help. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
She shuddered ever so slightly and sniffed. “I can only imagine.” And this time she seemed grateful when Hazel interrupted yet again and shoved a piece of paper in my hand.
“Joey’s phone number.”
Not hardly.
The truth was I had considered hiring someone to do some general repairs and paint the outside of the cottages, but I didn’t want to get hasty and not have the money to pay them. Which I hoped would be forthcoming when I went to Tyler on Monday.
So, bright and early, I dropped Rosey off at school and headed to Tyler with Avril in tow. She sang “You Are My Sunshine” and “Zaccheus Was a Wee Little Man.” What she lacked in musicality she made up for in volume, and we laughed and played I Spy until we pulled into the outskirts. We stopped at a filling station for directions and to use the restroom. Then on to a small business office behind the newspaper’s quarters on Main Street.
The receptionist nodded toward the only other room in the office and offered Avril a peppermint.
“I don’t supposed to take candy from strangers.” She clung to my skirt and followed me through the open door, where we found Clyde Baxter, O’Dell’s boss. He stood to greet us, a squirrelly guy, several inches shorter than me, with a nervous tic in his jaw.
“Aw, Mrs. Peyton, I presume.”
I greeted him and handed over the death certificate, my driver’s license, and our marriage certificate, which he hadn’t mentioned but I’d thought of at the last minute.
Avril tugged on my sleeve, a twinkle in her eye. “Is he the real Zaccheus? I don’t see no sycamore tree.”
“It’s
any
sycamore tree, sweetie, and no, this isn’t Zaccheus. The real one lived a long time ago when Jesus was alive. Mommy has to talk to Mr. Baxter now, so I need you to be still.”
Clyde Baxter cast a look at Avril like she was a boil on his backside and took a seat. I sat in the only other chair and pulled Avril onto my lap. As Mr. Baxter bent over the folder I assumed was O’Dell’s file, the brown coil of hair atop his head unwound and hung down, covering one eye. He pushed it back into place and withdrew a piece of paper, which he slid across the desk.
A certificate.
Clyde’s jaw twitched when he said, “O’Dell was the top salesman for the winter quarter. Normally, we’d honor him at a sales meeting and present him with a set of sterling cuff links, but the meeting was last week, and since O’Dell was indisposed…”
“Excuse me? He wasn’t indisposed. You have to be alive to be indisposed.” I felt sorry for the guy in an odd way, but how he’d risen to the manager level was beginning to concern me. “Do you have the cuff links?”
“I didn’t think you would have any use for them.”
“Me? No, I wouldn’t, but it would be nice to present them to his mother. She
is
indisposed. Not well at all. Grieving. As you can imagine.”