Chapter 90
"I dunno. I hadn't thought that far. My entire goal centered around gettin' it outside."
Joe shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Let's put it behind the house for now. The neighbors are riled up enough without havin' to look at your b.l.o.o.d.y sofa."
His plan sounded reasonable but something about the way he said it got under my skin. We set it down in the backyard, away from the telephone line.
"If you like, I can have someone come and remove it tomorrow." Joe said.
"Thanks," I said, unsure what to do next.
"I'm goin' to check the door jamb and make sure you didn't bang it up too much."
My irritation returned, but he was right. I went in the kitchen and left the door open so he could examine the frame.
"You paintin'?" he asked, nodding to the paint cans.
"The livin' room. I tried to get the blood off the wall but mostly I just ended up takin' off the paint."
"Have you ever painted before?"
I rolled my eyes. "I ain't buildin' a rocket. How hard could it be?"
"I'm sure a professional painter might take offense to that."
"Well, I'm not hirin' a professional painter."
"I'm not suggestin' you do, but I can make sure you know what to do before you get paint everywhere."
"Why?" I asked."Why would you help me?"
He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't say I was gonna paint the room for you. It's only a few pointers."
I appreciated his offer to help, but his att.i.tude rankled me. Why did that man irritate me so?
CHAPTER FIVE.
Joe ended up helping me move all the furniture into the dining room, then helped me tape. We didn't talk much while we worked, and after my initial nervousness of being near him in such tight quarters, I got used to his presence.
When we finished taping, he looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. "You goin' to paint in those clothes? Since you're new to this, you're bound to get paint on 'em."
I hadn't considered that, along with most everything else in my life, it seemed. I went to my bedroom and dug through the drawers for an old t-s.h.i.+rt and pair of shorts, self-conscious about changing with Joe in the next room. I a.s.sured myself it was unlikely he had X-ray vision. If he had it in his head to attack me, he would have done it already.
When I returned, he had drop cloths spread all over the floor.
"I don't remember buyin' that many." I said, puzzled.
"You didn't. A couple are mine. You could have made do with the two you bought, but you would have to keep movin' them around. It'll be easier this way."
My mouth dropped.
He saw my hesitation. "If I overstepped my...."
"No," I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I'm marvelin' at how nice you're bein' and tryin' to figure out why."
His eyebrows raised. "I'm not sure what you're talkin' about. People can be nice without an underlyin' motive."
"Not to me they don't."
"Why not?"
Our eyes locked and he studied me, trying to figure out what I meant. He obviously didn't know me yet. This friends.h.i.+p won't last. I warned myself. Don't get used to him.
"Never mind," I mumbled and went out into the kitchen. My heart stopped at the sight of the shopping bags. He had to have gone through them to get out the drop clothes. Did he see the nightie? But the Walmart sack looked undisturbed. Feeling lightheaded, I took out the curtains and set them on the table, wadded up the bag with the nightie still inside, and stuffed it into the dishtowel drawer. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and went back into the living room.
Before I knew it, we were both painting. I wanted to remind Joe that he claimed he wasn't going to help, but I knew better than push my luck. He was better and faster at it than me.
When Joe finished a wall, I stepped back and took a good look, clasping my hands to my chest. "I love it!" I exclaimed, giddy with happiness. "It looks like early mornin' suns.h.i.+ne!"
He turned to me, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, I suppose it does."
We were almost done with the first coat when Violet burst through the side door. "Oh, thank G.o.d you're all right! I've been tryin' to call you all day! Why won't you answer the phone? I thought somethin' happened to you! What on earth are you doin'?"
Her rapid-fire questions made me I feel like I'd just been pelted with a BB gun. "I'm paintin' the livin' room," I glance over my shoulder. "Well, we're paintin' the room."
Violet was livid. "Why would
If Violet had slapped me in the face, it couldn't have hurt worse.
Joe cleared his throat. "I know this is none of my business, but Rose isn't redecoratin'. She's coverin' up the blood that was spread all over the wall. I offered to help her since she'd never painted before."
Violet's face told me that she never thought about the aftereffects of a violent crime on home furnis.h.i.+ngs.
"And her phone is out until Wednesday," Joe added.
Violet wasn't about to let her anger go so easily. "See? All the more reason not to stay here! You have no phone if you get into trouble or if somethin' happens!"
Defiance riled up and I put a hand on my hip. "I got a cell phone this mornin'. I can use it if I need to."
"You what?"
"It's the twenty-first century. Everybody has a cell phone."
"Rose, honey, why do you need a cell phone? Honestly, who are you gonna call?"
I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling and looking even more like a fool in front of Joe. "I'm not leavin' with you. Violet. I'm stayin' here."
We glared at each other, both of us sure we were right and the other was wrong. I knew I'd thrown her for a loop. Right there in my half-painted living room, I realized the truth of it. I had always done what I was told, whether Momma, who did it out of spitefulness, or Violet, who loved me dearly and thought she knew what was best. No matter the reason, I'd always done what I was told. Standing up to Violet threw her world off its axis.
"Goodbye, Violet," I said in an icy tone. I loved the stuffing out of her, but I was so angry I could spit.
"Rose..." Realizing that her bulldozing had backfired, she softened her outrage.
"Goodbye, Violet." If I backed down on this, I'd never be able to stand up to her again.
Violet looked torn as she turned to the door.
Joe took a step toward her."I'm right next door if Rose needs me."
She let her anger loose on him. "You were right next door when our Momma was killed, too. A lot of good that did her." And with that she whipped around and walked out the door.
My mouth dropped open in shock. I'd never seen Violet be so rude.
Joe shut the door behind her and paused.
"Joe, I apologize for my sister's behavior."
He turned around to face me. "She's right, you know."
"What?"
"I was next door when your mother was killed and I didn't hear a thing. You'd be safer if you went with Violet."
It took me a moment to recover from my shock. "Go home, Joe."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"Go. Home." I enunciated each word slowly so there was no misinterpreting my meaning.
"Rose, wait a minute."
I walked toward him and opened the door. "I appreciate everythin' you've done to help me, but I'm done bein' told what to do. Thanks for all your help paintin' and thanks for installin' the locks. Let me know how much I owe you."
Joe stood in the doorway. "Rose, I'm sorry. I wasn't tryin' to boss you around."
"I know, but you weren't even supposed to help me paint anyway, remember? You were just goin' to give me some pointers. You did, now you can go home."
Joe went outside, looking over his shoulder as he climbed down the steps.
Ah, c.r.a.p. I felt a vision coming. Go away, Joe. Go away. "The dog's goin' to get out the hole in your back fence." That one confused me. Joe didn't have dog.
"What?"
"See you around," I said, shutting the door and locking it.
I started to paint again, feeling lonely. Part of me was sorry I sent him away, but I knew I'd done the right thing. Besides, he would have figured out soon enough that I was a freak.
Several hours later, I finished the last coat. The sun had set, making it difficult to see the true color. Still, I could see it was bright and cheerful, yet not overly yellow. It should have made me happy but the fight with Violet ate at me, stealing my joy. Violet and I never argued and it made me question everything.
Was I being selfish? Was I stupid staying in the house? I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to kill me. I decided Violet had been right the night of the murder; Momma's murder was just a random crime and it would have been me if I hadn't fought with her earlier that day.
Nevertheless, I was still uneasy going to sleep that night.
The next morning I called Betty at the DMV and told her I wouldn't be into work until Thursday. She insisted I take off the entire week, and I could only imagine Suzanne's reaction to that. I wouldn't be surprised if she thought I killed Momma just to get out of a four-day work week. Seriously, I'm smarter than that. If I was going to go to that much trouble, surely I would have picked a five-day week instead.
Next, I called Deanna Crawfield's office to make an appointment but her receptionist said she had a family emergency and couldn't see me until Thursday afternoon.
The floral shop confounded what little decision-making skills I had left. I only hoped my choices would meet Violet's approval. While I couldn't care less what the town thought about Momma's funeral, Violet did. My newfound independence may have disappointed her, but I hoped I could make it up with this.
On the way home, I stopped by a local dress shop. I walked through the door and a wave of disbelief washed over me. I was shopping for Momma's funeral. I shook it off, determined not to let Violet down in this either since part of the funeral judgment included the attire of the surviving family members.
Normally, I would go in the store and hide behind the racks, hoping to go unnoticed. I didn't really want to be noticed today, but I decided it was time to be more a.s.sertive.
"Excuse me," I choked out to a saleswoman, ignoring my rising anxiety. "I need to buy a dress for a funeral."
The middle-aged woman motioned me to the back. "Are you goin' to the funeral of that poor woman who was murdered the other night?"
Her question didn't surprise me. Murder and mayhem were big news in Henryetta. I nodded.
She leaned close, half-whispering. "They say her daughter did it. Just bashed her head right in." She tsked after this.
My stomach churned. I suspected that was what the entire town was saying.
"Are you friend or family?"
I didn't want to lie but it seemed the best course of action. "Friend."
The saleswoman eyed me up and down, tilting her head and squinting her eyes.
My cheeks began to flush. She knows who I am.
"You look like you're a size six, am I right?"
I suppressed a sigh of relief. "Yes."
"I have several things that would work for a cute little thing like you."
I looked around to see who she was talking to. I was the only one in the store.
Handing me several hangers, she led me to a dressing room. I tried on a simple black dress first.
The saleswoman knocked on the door. "How are you doing in there?"