Page 2 of Leave a Mark
As he turned onto St. Mary on his drive home, Lee gave thanks for about the millionth time that he’d won out on the Great House Battle of 2014. Marcelle and his stepmother had rallied hard for the cottage in River Ranch, but Lee liked the area around the Saint Streets.
It wasn’t only that it was closer to UMC. The neighborhood just felt real. Live oaks shaded the houses. Vegetable gardens grew in front yards. People of every age and color walked and rode bikes on its streets in the evenings.
And it was a hell of a lot more affordable than River Ranch.
The house he’d bought on Dunreath had been built in 1938. The walls were center-match, the roof was slate, and the Spanish arches on both sides of his living room — cracks in the plaster on each — reminded him of New Orleans. The best part was the screened front porch with the cypress swing.
One day, I’ll even get to enjoy it,Lee thought as he pulled his white Cherokee into the drive behind the house, parking next to Marcelle’s black Miata. She had her own townhouse in Greenbriar, but on nights when he was home, she slept over. If she didn’t, they’d never see each other.
He crossed the back yard along the path of paving stones and ducked under the covered deck, throwing a longing glance to the two kayaks that hung from the ceiling.
Soon.
Lee trudged up the back steps, hoping to find some brisket still in the fridge from his dad’s Sunday barbecue two days before. He’d missed the event, but his stepmother, Barbara, had sent home leftovers with Marcelle.
From the kitchen he heard the hair dryer across the house. Marcelle wouldn’t hear him, so he didn’t bother shouting. Instead, he pulled open the refrigerator door, found the plastic container of shredded brisket, and grabbed a fork.
Even cold, the barbecued brisket set him moaning. He knew it would be better on bread — bread, with a little mayonnaise and sliced tomato. Maybe he’d even make two sandwiches, but he needed to work his way up to that.
Then again, if he emptied the container straight into his mouth, that was okay, too.
Footsteps clicked down the hall, but Lee couldn’t bring himself to pull his face away from the dish.
“Leland, what are you doing? We have the health clinicauction tonight.” Marcelle stood over him wearing a frantic look and a black cocktail dress. “We need to leave in thirty minutes!”
CHAPTER TWO
LAURIE LOOKED PRETTY. Her shoes and her shorts sparkled, and the pink on her lips matched her fingernails and toenails.
Wren wanted pink lips and sparkles, too.
Laurie giggled at her friend, Darryl. He was a new friend. He’d never spent the night, but Wren figured he would tonight. She thought his hair was ugly the way it parted right down the middle, but Laurie was giggling a lot, so he must have been nicer than her last friend.
They sat at the kitchen counter, and Darryl poured two Cokes. Then he took a white bottle with a coconut tree on it and poured some of that into each glass and passed one to Laurie.
“I want a coconut Coke,” Wren said, making both the grownups laugh.
“Wren, honey, you can’t have that. You’re too little.” Laurie flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled at Darryl. “Babe, can you pour her just a little Coke? I’m gonna find us something fun to go with this. Be right back.”
Wren watched her mother walk to their bedroom in her high heels. She wanted shoes just like those.
“You wanna be like the grownups, sugar?” Darryl asked, pulling her attention away from Laurie’s shoes.
Wren nodded. She wanted to be grown up so if she said something, Laurie would have to listen to her, just like she had to listen when Laurie and Mamaw Gigi and Papaw Dale told her what to do. If she were a grownup, she’d tell Laurie to go to bed early and wake up in time for school.
“Well, grownups keep secrets. Can you keep a secret?” Darryl asked, pouring her Coke into a plastic cup.
Again, Wren nodded. She kept lots of secrets. She never told anyone at school that Papaw Dale had to call the police when one of Laurie’s friends broke the front window.
Darryl reached for the white bottle with the coconut tree. “If you can keep a secret, I’ll give you some, and you’ll be that much more grown up, though you seem half grown up already.”
“I can keep a secret,” she said, smiling, and she watched him pour.
“EARTH TO WREN? Hello? Where’d you go?” Cherise asked, forking the last of her Dwyer’s hash browns into her mouth.
Wren Blanchard shook off the memory and wrinkled her nose at her best friend’s soft drink. “I was just wondering how you can drink a Coke at 9:30 in the morning.”
“It’s Diet Coke, bitch,” Cherise teased. “You know I hate coffee, but I need caffeine.” She pushed away her near-empty plate and swiped one of Wren’s bacon strips.
