The keepers, p.14
The Keepers, page 14
“Oh dear, I thought the girls knew what they were supposed to do. I hate to hang over them when they are working.”
“Well,” Velma said examining the end of her little finger. “I guess it won’t do no harm to let them mince along today, but come Monday they’ll have to get their fat behinds moving. Guests don’t like waiting all day to get their beds made. Thought I’d warn you, you know what they say about a word to the wise.”
Jessie smiled and nodded.
Velma stubbed out her cigarette in a cracked cup that was missing its handle then put her big, flat palms on the worktable and leaned across it smiling at Andy.
“Speak up, little fellow. Soon as I get you fed I can finish straightening this kitchen.”
“I don’t care.” Andy hunched his shoulders.
Velma lit another cigarette and stood it on end in the cracked cup. “You’re easy enough. Tell you what, how about French toast and hot chocolate?”
“Really, Velma, you don’t have to bother.” Jessie’s voice was wispy and thin.
Velma already had two eggs out of the refrigerator; they were nearly hidden in the depths of her hand. She grabbed a small stainless bowl and in one quick motion broke both eggs and tossed the shells into the sink.
“I’ll have this done before you can turn around twice,” she said over her shoulder as she beat the eggs to a froth. “And if you don’t mind my saying so, you better sit down there with your boy and have some, too. You always look this tired and wrung out, or is it us coming in on you at once?”
Jessie put her trembling hand to her forehead. Then she shook her head as if trying to make her thoughts fall into place.
“Do I look that bad? You know, it’s a funny thing. I’ve been sleeping like a rock, but in the mornings I’m so weak I don’t have the will or energy to do anything.”
Velma dunked slices of bread into the eggs and milk and then slapped them onto the grill. “Well, I won’t worry. Could be the change in climate. Takes some people a while to adjust.”
“I hope that’s all it is. I wouldn’t want to be sick when we start getting busy.”
Andy looked closer at his mother. She did look different. The hollows under her eyes were deeper and her skin, which was always smooth and pretty, was tight and waxy.
“Where is Denise?” The question popped out of Andy so quickly that it surprised even him.
“I think she took a lawn chair out front to sit in the sun. Why?”
Andy bent his head and licked his lips. They suddenly seemed so dry. “I don’t know, guess I just wondered.”
Velma slid a plate holding two crisp, brown pieces of toast in front of Andy and turned back to the stove to pour chocolate into a cup. “There now, dig into that,” she said.
In a minute a second plate was on the worktable and with a sigh Jessie sat down beside Andy. Velma stood back and striking a match with her thumbnail lit another cigarette while the last one still smoldered in the broken cup.
“Now you two eat up while I tell you how I do things. There will always be hot, fresh coffee on the stove. I serve breakfast from seven to ten, lunch from eleven to one thirty, and dinner from six to eight thirty. I make up the menus and order the groceries. I phone it in and it gets delivered on time or I raise all kinds of thunder.”
Velma’s upper lip disappeared and a deep thick laugh tumbled out under her big stained teeth.
“Guess I got my bluff in on them though, I can’t remember the last time they didn’t get my order here on time. Then, if everything goes right, I pack up my purse and get out of here by ten.”
“Isn’t that an awfully long day?” Jessie said.
“Naw, not for me. Besides, it’s only for the season. Now, no offense, Miz Nolan, but I do a lot better if no one messes around my kitchen. I got a certain way I keep things and I want them right where I left them. I keep my purse and personal things on the bottom shelf of the pantry and don’t expect no one to be messing with them.”
“Personal things,” Jessie said slowly. “Like the brown paper sack with the bottle in it?”
Velma shrugged her bony shoulders. “You noticed that, did you? Well, don’t worry about it. I’ve never had any complaints bout my work and don’t intend to start doing anything to cause them now. I’m glad to have the job, but sometimes this place can get to a person.”
“What do you mean?”
Velma turned her back and glanced toward the pantry as if she wished they were gone so she could get out some of her personal stuff.
“I imagine you’ll see for yourself. I always get jumpy with tourists crawling around. Glad I don’t have much to do with them. Nothing wrong with them you understand, they got their ways and I got mine.”
Jessie shoved her plate and coffee cup aside and took a deep breath. “I see.”
Velma snatched up the dirty dishes and whisk them away into the sink. “I guess you heard about my husband, Shorty. Well, if there’s any repairs to do you can count on him.”
Andy finished drinking his hot chocolate and Velma took his dishes while she kept up a steady stream of talk, telling his mother about how the kitchen was run and the kinds of jobs Shorty could do. Velma was interesting and his breakfast proved she was a good cook. And she knew a lot about the resort, probably because she had been working there in summers past.
Still, when she talked about the guests, Andy picked up something like jagged red-yellow waves coming from her. Almost as if she were afraid of those people. He tucked the thought away adding it to the list of things to work on, inch by inch. If he worried about everything at once his thoughts got scrambled, and his growing bravery started to melt. One step at a time the small new voice said; it sounded a lot like Mrs. Kenny’s voice.
Remembering his plan, Andy slid off the stool and walked toward the door. He started to tell his mom and Velma goodbye, but they were busy talking.
Out in front of the lodge, Denise was lying face down on one of the lounge chairs. Andy thought she might be asleep. He swung around a post supporting the veranda roof and tried to look casual yet keep an eye on his sister. The sun was bright and warm and its rays made Denise’s bare back glisten. She was wearing her blue and white bikini and it was amazing how she could stand to expose so much of her body; he would die of shame if people saw him nearly naked. He was as thin and white as one of Velma’s cigarettes, something he would rather keep to himself. But Denise was brown and plump so he supposed she didn’t mind wearing so few clothes. Suddenly she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder.
“What are you doing out here?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Nothing.”
“Go do it someplace else.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I don’t want your beady little eyes staring at me.”
“How come you’re out here so early, you always sit outside in the afternoon when the sun is on the deck. When it’s good and hot, so you can cook yourself silly.”
“What I do is none of your business. But if you must know, Melanie said it’s better to tan slowly when the sun is weaker. It’s not as harmful to the skin and builds up a better tan. Now get out of here.”
Andy dropped stiff-legged down the two porch steps and came closer to Denise. He put his hands on his hips and stared down at her.
“How come you believe everything Melanie says? What makes her so smart?”
Denise propped herself up on one elbow. “You wouldn’t understand. If you weren’t so tied to mother’s apron strings you might learn something from Melanie, too”
The spiteful look Denise hurled at him stung and made him want to run. She seemed to see straight through his red and white striped tee shirt to the pale skin stretched across his narrow ribs. The look stripped him bare and made him feel defenseless. He spread his legs apart to give himself a firmer foundation and lowered his head defiantly.
“You aren’t supposed to be talking to her.”
“Don’t worry, tattletale. We’re sticking to mother’s dumb rules.”
“I bet the old witch doesn’t know anything but how to meddle in other people’s business.”
Denise squirmed on the lounge as if she were uncomfortable. His words were pricking Denise’s smugness and he tingled with excitement. Andy’s confidence grew.
“If she’s so smart what’s she talking to a kid like you for? Probably cause people her own age are too smart for her. Mom thinks she’s dumb, I know she does. A dumb old woman that tries to steal other people’s kids!”
Denise bolted upright as if she were going to leap off the lounge and come after him. Then a nasty smile curled her lips.
“If you weren’t such a little worm I’d feel sorry for you. You’re never going to be worth anything except to be used by other people. For your information Melanie says I’m very advanced and we have conversations that mother wouldn’t be able to follow.”
“Like what? You probably sit around and tell each other how smart you are. Some conversations!” Andy snorted.
“Meeting Melanie is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m going to be like her. She makes beautiful pottery. Her things are in the shops around the lake. She knows how to behave around rich, intelligent people and she’s going to introduce me to them. She has plenty of friends, these local hicks aren’t among them.”
“So she makes little clay pots and tags around after rich people, so what?”
“She’s also a herbalist.” Denise flopped back on her stomach and closed her eyes.
Her parting shot tore a hole in Andy’s sail and his momentum ebbed away. What the heck was a herbalist? He could ask, but Denise wouldn’t tell him. Sometimes he could get the reaction he wanted from Denise, mostly by making her angry. He could do that pretty good, it was the only relationship he had ever had with his sister, that and sometimes coaxing her into helping him if there was an advantage in it for her. But right now she wouldn’t get mad anymore, she was over that because she’d won.
At the north end of the parking lot Posey came out of the tool shed carrying a pair of hedge trimmers. He went to the corner of the lodge and began clipping the top of an evergreen. Andy started toward him. He didn’t look back at Denise or say anything to her. They were like electric wires, each okay by itself, but when they came in contact the sparks jumped. Actually, getting her to talk was a stroke of luck. He’d only intended to watch her.
Now he had four things to put into his information bag; Melanie made pots, hung around with rich tourists, she was a herbalist, and she’d taken Denise over completely. The first three didn’t seem very important compared to the last one. As he shuffled along Andy hung his head and a strange lonesomeness filled him. It was sad losing a sister, even if he didn’t get along with her.
Posey kept on clipping, but he looked up and smiled at Andy. From the corner where Posey was working Andy had a clear view of Denise. This was fine. He could talk with Posey and watch Denise at the same time.
Chapter Seventeen
When Jessie left the kitchen Velma was busy checking supplies and making preparations for the guests that were due to arrive on Monday. This weekend was the last chance for the family to be alone and solidify their new togetherness. Stan and Denise’s efforts were touching and Jessie wished they had more time. But now, with Velma’s gangling presence in the kitchen, the laundry man from Snow-white Linen showing up to arrange for linen service, and the Brown Nursery van pulling up to unload fifteen flats of petunias and geraniums, it was plain the season was underway. Stan made endless trips checking the air conditioning units and he fussed around the front desk like a mother hen. As the activity increased Jessie gave up hope of spending any of the day with Stan, or the children. And by evening they would probably be too tired to talk.
Jessie was already!
Her lack of strength was strange. She’d always been strong as a horse. As Jessie started across the lawn to the cabins, with some thin hope of speeding the Trasker girls along, echoes of The Old Gray Mare Ain’t What She Used To Be rattled through her mind. Velma might be a secret drinker but it hadn’t affected her judgment concerning the Trasker girls. They were unbelievably slow. Jessie could have done the rooms and cabins in the time it took both of them. Or she could have before she began feeling so tired.
By five o’clock that afternoon Velma was finished in the kitchen and ready to leave.
“Now, Miz Nolan, I’d be happy to start supper for you folks. Wouldn’t take a minute. I swear you look worse than you did this morning.”
Velma took the abalone shell cross down from the matchbox and put it in her purse.
“Must have been that running around after Ellen and Alice. You’re going to have to do something about them. I’ll have a talk with Bessie if you want. Course it’s kind of late to find new maids, but if I know Bessie she’ll set them straight. One thing about that woman, she wants to make as much as she can off these summer people, and I don’t know any place else that would put up with the girls.”
Jessie leaned against the counter by the sink; each of Velma’s words hit her like a finger poking a bruise. She was tempted to let Velma stay and make dinner, and to talk with Bessie, and to do anything else that needed to be done.
“Thank you, Velma, but I’ll manage.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. Now, I won’t be back tomorrow, I got everything here under control. So I’ll see you Monday morning. I got a key. I let myself in. You don’t need to worry about getting down as early as I get here.”
Velma slung her purse over her shoulder and stood looking uncomfortable for a minute, then laughing her harsh laugh she went to the pantry.
“Guess I can’t wait around for you to leave so I can collect my personal stuff.” She picked up the brown sack twisted in a bottle shape and tucked it under her arm. “Looks like you and me ain’t going to have many secrets this summer, are we?”
Jessie shook her head and summoned up a weary laugh.
She hadn’t told Stan of Velma’s brown-bag habit, it didn’t seem important. Not with everything else there was to worry about. Velma clomped down the back stairs and walked to a battered blue pickup waiting at the side drive. A round-faced balding man was behind the wheel. It was obviously Shorty. If he was anything like his wife they were indeed a couple of characters.
Alone in the kitchen Jessie sighed and poured a cup of coffee from the fresh pot Velma had left on the back burner. She shouldn’t have been so stubborn about taking Velma’s help with dinner, but Shorty was waiting and it was evident Velma wanted to get away by five. She had only offered to be polite. Posey and the girls were gone, too. It seemed everyone was anxious to quit that day. In the months ahead they might not have the chance to leave early. The first day of work had left everyone tired, everyone except Stan. He was still fresh and full of energy.
By ten that night Denise and Andy were in their rooms and Stan was still behind the desk filing the nursery man’s bill and going over the estimated monthly laundry charges. Jessie was dragging but she managed to put the kitchen back into the order Velma had left it. Then she turned off the lights. Moonlight streamed through the kitchen windows, it turned the white enamel to a pale blue and it struck the stainless steel making it gleam. The room was peaceful and at rest. Perhaps the day hadn’t gone badly.
There had been no arguments at dinner, and afterward Denise eagerly cleared the table and brought in the coffee. Even more surprising, Andy had jumped up to help. But then he’d been sticking close to Denise all day. Stan was right; she shouldn’t worry so much. Maybe having so many strangers around might draw the family closer together; she had feared the reverse would be true. The kitchen door swung shut behind her and Jessie started toward the lobby. She struggled to keep her eyes open and push one foot after the other. Stan should be finished by now, and if not it was time for bed anyway, at least for her.
As she entered the lobby something hit the front door with the force and thud of a battering ram. The hard heavy thumps stopped Jessie in her tracks. Stan jerked his head up. For a second they froze, and then both of them ran for the door. Jessie reached it a few steps ahead of Stan and threw it open. The light from the lobby splashed a long rectangle onto the veranda. The yellow swath was empty.
Jessie leaned forward and blinked.
“Hello, who is there?” she called.
Then she saw him.
Jack Tanner, wearing khaki pants and a white tee shirt, he was slumped in the black shadows of the overhanging roof, his white shirt shimmering in the darkness. Jack’s head was down and he was weaving slightly. Stan pushed at Jessie’s shoulder trying to see around her.
“What is it, Jess? Let me turn on the light.”
Stan reached for the switch at the left of the door, but Jack’s words stopped him.
“No!” Jack’s voice was a low snarling growl. It sounded barely human. “Keep your hands down. Where I can see them.”
“What the hell is going on?” Stan said.
Stan radiated a sudden fear. The vibrations struck Jessie and merged with her own fright. Why was Jack there? And as drunk as he seemed, how had he managed to get there?
Jack took one lurching step into the light and brought a shotgun up to rest on his hip.
Air rushed into Jessie’s mouth and down her throat as if it were a wind tunnel, then the air stopped. It was blocked by the frozen muscles of her chest. There was the same whistling gasp as Stan stiffened at her side.
Jack leveled the double-barreled shotgun at their stomachs and a lopsided grin turned up one corner of his mouth.
“Don’t move. We’uns going to have a little talk.”
“Mr. Tanner, Jack... please,” Jessie stammered.
“What’s going on here? You know this maniac, Jessie?”
“Whoa there Mr. Re’sort Owner. You stand still and listen.”
