The Ladies' Room by Carolyn Brown Page A

the kitchen.
    "How did Gert stand you? You're too nice to get along with
her."
    He squared his shoulders and set his jaw. "I'm not always
nice. I speak my opinion. I just didn't want to offend you on
your first day here."
    "I'm not going to be nice all the time, and I don't want you
to be. I'd rather have honest than nice. So we'll always speak
our minds. Deal?" I stuck out my right hand.
    "Deal." He set the food on the counter and shook.
    He opened the plastic containers, and I popped ice out of those old aluminum trays that have a handle on top, filled two
glasses, and added tea. The aroma of barbecue and baked
beans filled the kitchen, and my mouth began to water. He
opened cabinet doors and removed two plates, took out silverware from a drawer, and pulled the paper-napkin holder over
to the middle of the breakfast bar.

    "Dig in," he said.
    The ribs had just the right blend of smoke and sauce. The
baked beans had been slow-simmered until they were thick,
and the biscuits were light and fluffy.
    "Tell me something," I said between bites.
    "Long, slow cooking over a low flame"
    "No, not about supper. This is better than a five-star restaurant's food, and you ought to run a barbecue joint. But that's
not what I wanted to know. Do you know much about the relationship between Uncle Lonnie and Aunt Gert?"
    He shook his head. "I was off at college when Lonnie died.
I didn't know Gert really well until after that. She didn't talk
much about him. Matter of fact, the only time we talked about
Lonnie was a couple of years ago. I was helping her with some
plumbing and noticed the padlock on that door up there."
    "What did she say?"
    "She said that what was in the past was best left there and
that talking about it was like stirring a fresh cow pile with a
wooden spoon. Didn't accomplish a thing, and only made
the stink and the flies worse and the spoon useless for anything else. Then we came downstairs and had a beer and
talked about the new president. His inauguration was on
television."
    "You remember exactly what you talked about?" I asked,
amazed.
    He shrugged. "Sure. I'd stepped on her toes pretty badly, so
I remember it well. Gert was a fine old girl."
    "What else is this old place going to tell me?"
    He smiled, and his whole face lit up. "Whatever it is, I hope
you like it."
    The phone rang, so I dashed off to the foyer table where the
ancient blue object was located.

    I hoped it was Crystal, but the minute I picked up the receiver, Drew started yelling, "Have you gone as crazy as your
mother, woman? I'll be home on Monday, and you'd better
have a good excuse for what you've done. Why did you take
all that money out of the bank?"
    "I'm not having this conversation right now." I hung up on
him.
    The phone rang again immediately. I picked the receiver
up. "I took the money out of the bank and buried it in the
backyard under Aunt Gert's apricot tree. I left two bits in
the accounts for your newest fling. I'm having supper with a
friend, so leave me alone."
    Drew was yelling and cussing as I hung up on him. I made
a mental note to ask the phone company about getting caller
ID when they came to add a jack to every room.
    I returned to the kitchen and loaded another helping of barbecue onto my plate.
    "Hey, I forgot to tell you this afternoon. I love your new
haircut. It looks just like it did when we were in high school,"
Billy Lee said.
    "Thank you." I smiled, and it felt dang good that he remembered.
    "Was that Drew?"
    "Yes."
    "Want to talk about it?"
    "No."
    "Then we won't."
    I'd never appreciated a person as much as I did Billy Lee
right then.

    I'd never been claustrophobic in my life until I shut the bedroom door the second night. Every knickknack in the room
seemed to stare at me with those never-closing eyes. Shelves
were covered with everything from cats to elephants waiting
for me to shut my eyes so they could come alive like in a sci-fi
movie. Poorly painted ceramic ducks on the