What Matters in Mayhew (The Beanie Bradsher Series Book 1) Read online

  “How’d you find it, anyways?”

  “The day we left, Frances was forming in the Gulf, but most indications were that it would turn toward Texas. We thought the trip might be cancelled, but I guess true adventurers are seldom daunted. We forged ahead, and the storm grew bigger. It did finally turn, but not quite soon enough and we caught its tail. It was almost impossible to paddle, even going with the current – so much wind! We finally stopped down the road at the bridge and there were several people trying to get their boats out of the water before things got worse.

  “That was the first time I ever saw Suvi Jones. Of course, I had no idea who he was, I just knew he was BIG. His boat was already loaded and he was helping an elderly couple get their pontoon boat onto a trailer. Between the wind and the current, the old man couldn’t seem to keep the pontoons lined up with the tracks on the trailer. And do you know what Suvi did?”

  When Beanie didn’t answer, Will glanced to his right. Her hat was pushed back off her head, and her mouth was slightly open, but her eyes were closed. Will smiled and shook his head, then returned his attention to the road.

  As the car passed over the blue bridge connecting their neighboring counties, Will remembered how he’d watched, amazed, as Suvi stripped to his t-shirt and waded down the ramp into the frigid water to stand beside the submerged trailer.

  “Gun it, Fred!” Suvi hollered, motioning for the old man to try again.

  “You sure, Suvi?” the old man hesitated.

  “Come on! I gotcha,” Suvi shouted above the roar of the wind and the idling motor. “Go back around and aim high. I’ll guide her in.”

  The old man did as Suvi said, taking the boat in a slow sweeping turn to approach from upstream. Aiming for the back of the truck, he pushed the throttle forward to gain speed. The wind whipped the boat’s stern toward Suvi at the last second, but he caught the railing with both hands and pushed hard, guiding the pontoons onto the v-shaped tracks of the trailer. The boat slid into place. Suvi made short work of attaching the front hook and winching the boat the rest of the way. Will had never seen anything like it – man against machine and the elements. His dark brown skin showed through the wet shirt, outlining abs that were every bit as awe-inspiring as his size. Made Will feel small and insignificant by comparison, though he’d never given his average build much thought before.

  Will, Marie, and the paddling group were tired and cold and more than a little worried about finding accommodations in such a rural area. They made inquiries and found that only two establishments nearby could handle such a large group. There was a small motel with ten rooms, and a Bed and Breakfast called The Château, which was once the county courthouse. Will and Marie fell head over heels in love with the place and stayed for a week. Before leaving, they made a casual offer to the owners that was eventually accepted.

  Not long after the paperwork was signed on the purchase of The Château, Marie was diagnosed with stage-four breast cancer. There were no signs of the illness before then, just the discovery of a lump on a routine physical exam. When Will looked back on those months of treatment, he wondered how he survived it himself. Marie was a rock, never giving up, never losing hope, even to the day she took her last breath. He missed her every single day, but the funny thing was he didn’t miss their friends at all. He was oddly content where he was, living alone the dream they’d dreamed together.

  “Will? You okay?” Beanie was leaned back in her chair, but turned her head toward him as she spoke.

  “Yeah,” he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice, “I’m fine. Why?”

  “We been settin’ here a good long while. I just wondered, that’s all.”

  Will laughed. “I was seeing how long you would sleep.”

  “Wadn’t sleepin’,” Beanie mumbled.

  “Then you better go down to the clinic and get your sinuses checked, because you were snoring like a buzz saw.”

  Beanie smacked Will on the arm and flung open the car door.

  “I do not snore, Will Thaxton!”

  “Easy there, Killer,” Will grinned.

  “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  “I was talking about the door.”

  “Oh, pooh…” Beanie huffed and rolled out of the car, crinoline crackling wildly as she scooped up her groceries and stomped into the house.

  Will chuckled to himself and unloaded the rest of the car.

  5

  The Big Pig

  Smoke rose from the stacks of wood piled teepee style outside the back door of Suvi’s Big Pig Barbecue. Hickory logs were started on the outside and brought into the kitchen when they were ready to use in the wide cooking pits where Vesuvius Jones smoked ribs and chicken and pork to perfection.

  Sweet Atwater loved the smell, but it sometimes made its way through the back door of the shop, giving her inventory a smoky campfire odor. This might be okay if she was running an outdoor clothing store, but she wasn’t. And who wanted to go to a prom smelling like a hunt camp? If she thought about it, though, that might not be a bad thing around Mayhew Junction.

  After napping in a portable crib for at least an hour, Daisy woke up hungry, but still in a good mood, and the barbecue smelled so good that Sweet called Bubba John to meet her for lunch. She stuck a “Back at 1:00” sign on the door and closed up shop.

  The front doors of the Big Pig sported kissing swine for handles. Sweet swung the doors open and stepped inside. The front room was nearly full, but she could see a few empty booths in the back dining room. She dragged a high chair to a table near the window display featuring a menagerie of ceramic pigs and piglets on a carpet of fake plastic grass. She plopped Daisy into the chair and glanced at the specials board.

  AUCE RIBS $7.99 - SWEET TEA EXTRA!

  Sold! Sweet thought to herself, as Suvi Jones backed through the kitchen door, filling the entire width with his body and clearing the doorjamb above his head by barely an inch.

  Vesuvius Jones was a giant of a man, both in stature and in the community, a hometown hero of sorts, one of the few local boys to make a name for himself outside of Mayhew Junction. Standing six-feet-eight in his bare feet, Suvi played three sports in high school and excelled at them all, though he finally opted for the basketball scholarship offered by the University of Florida over the football scholarship that would have taken him to Miami and too far from home. Sweet graduated high school with Suvi and, from what she could tell, Suvi would probably have never left the county if not for sports. He was drafted into the NBA his senior year in college and ended up in Denver of all places. At the end of four years, he blew out his knee and was back home – financially secure enough to build his mama a big home on the edge of town and buy himself the restaurant he always wanted. Never married, he lived with his mama until she died of a stroke. Though it was over a year since her death, Sweet was sure Suvi was still not over it. His mother was a matriarch, not just of his family, but of his community at large.

  “Hey, Suve!” Sweet called out as Suvi made his way through the dining room carrying a large tray of rib baskets. “Where’s Cherry today?”

  “Sweet Lee!” Suvi hollered over his shoulder, using Sweet’s given name as he always did. “Cherry called in again. Dottie’ll be here in a few minutes to cover for her. I’ll be right with ya.”

  The front doors swung open and Bubba John lumbered in, kissing Daisy on the top of the head before he plopped down in the chair across from Sweet.

  “Hey, Mama, how you holdin’ up?” Bubba John grinned across the table at his wife.

  That was the smile that always got her into trouble. It was the one that made her fall in love with a man who was just shy of reliable.

  “Hangin’ in there,” Sweet said as she ripped the top off a pack of crackers and handed one to Daisy. “Where the heck were you this morning?”

  “Putting out feed,” Bubba John said. “Sorry. Meant to be back in time to help. You do okay without me?”

  “The kids are still breathin’ and they m
ade it to the bus on time. Guess it hasn’t been too bad a day, if you don’t count the two new outfits me and Daisy are wearin’, which came out of perfectly good inventory.”

  “She gitcha again?”

  “Mmm hmmm,” Sweet nodded.

  “You may ought to think about keepin’ some of them pull-up things on hand.”

  “No, Sir!” Sweet said. “I have bought my last pack of diapers. Period.”

  “That’s what you said after Tater was potty-trained.”

  “Don’t jinx me, Daddy, or you’ll be sleepin’ on the porch ‘til my ovaries are prunes.”

  Bubba John laughed so loud, several heads turned at once. Sweet glared at him.

  “What’s the special?” Bubba John said, turning to look at the board.

  “Ribs, but if Dottie doesn’t get here soon, we may be here all day. Cherry called in drunk again. I don’t know why he doesn’t fire that girl.”

  “Cherry Allred,” Bubba John said. “Now there’s an apple that didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “Punny,” Sweet said, rolling her eyes at the joke she’d heard a thousand times. “Seriously, though. What kind of woman would stick her kid with a name like that?”

  Bubba John laughed again, louder this time.

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked once he caught his breath.

  “What?” Sweet said.

  “You know what,” Bubba John said. “You know exactly what.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Sweet said, barely suppressing a smile.

  “Daisy,” Bubba John said, handing his toddler another cracker, “your mama is just plain crazy. Best you know that now, baby girl. Save you a world of hurt down the road.”

  “Kwackers,” Daisy said, crumbling it in her fist.

  “Kwackers is right,” Bubba John grinned and ruffled the blonde curls at the base of her neck.

  Sweet stood, throwing her napkin down on the chair.

  “Where ya goin’?” Bubba John asked.

  “I’m gonna get this show on the road,” she replied. “Suvi can’t handle this by himself.”

  “I figured that’s what you were gonna say.”

  “You got her?” Sweet asked, nodding toward Daisy.

  “Mmm hmmm,” Bubba John said. “Piece of cake.”

  “Try havin’ five of them at once.”

  “No, I mean: bring us a piece of cake,” Bubba John smirked.

  Sweet smacked her husband on the arm and headed for the kitchen to wash up and put on an apron. It wasn’t the first time she pitched in for the lunch crowd. She didn’t mind helping Suvi, and the tips weren’t too bad, either. The way Bubba John worked, which was as little as possible, they could use all the help they could get.

  She just picked up a pad of lunch tickets when Suvi came from the kitchen with Dottie on his heels.

  “I got it, Sweet,” Dottie said. “Thanks, though.”

  “No problem,” Sweet said. “I’ll go take a few orders while I’m suited up. Front room filled up first, I think.”

  “Okey dokey,” Dottie said. “I’ll take the back tables, then.”

  “Thank God we have plenty of ribs,” Suvi said. “I think we can catch up pretty fast if they don’t all order burgers and fries.”

  Sweet managed to sit back down with her husband just as he polished off his second plate of ribs. It didn’t take much to convince Bubba John to take the baby home for another nap. She didn’t doubt they would both be dozing on the couch until the kids got off the bus from school.

  6

  Straight to the Source

  Dottie Brentwood was through with the toughest shift since the Soweto Gospel Choir stopped their bus on Main Street and piled in unannounced. Untying the back of her Mayhew Hardware nail apron, which doubled as a holder for tips, straws, napkins, order pads and pens, Dottie sat heavily in the nearest booth she could find and started counting her tips. LouWanda Crump, who owned the antiques store across the street from the Big Pig, walked in as Dottie finished stacking her bills with faces pointed in the same direction.

  Fresh from a trip to Lynelle’s Country Curl, LouWanda patted her bleached blonde beehive, taming any strays jarred loose by the logging truck that blew by before she made it in the door.

  “Wooh-wee!” LouWanda said, stomping her size 10 sneakers on the industrial-sized welcome mat. “That boy just needs to slow down, I’m tellin’ ya. I’m calling Fred Hewitt the minute I get home. He ort’ta know his drivers is blowin’ the hairs outta people’s heads.”

  “LouWanda, if you want a sweet tea, honey, you’ll have to get it yourself. My bunion is about to bust. I couldn’t pull myself outta this chair if I wanted to, and I don’t.”

  “Bad day?” LouWanda asked, heading straight for the soda station. “Where’s Cherry?”

  “Fired, I hope,” Dottie said and sighed.

  “Lord, I hope not,” LouWanda said. “Who’ll watch the shop for me if you’re working here fulltime?”

  Dottie was the fill-in for half the stores along Main Street. Suvi used her when Cherry was hungover. LouWanda counted on her to watch her store every time she had a doctor’s appointment, which was fairly often since she’d made it to Medicare age. She’d lived an entire lifetime without medical insurance and, now that she was covered, there were a few things she thought needed checking out. Sweet Lee Atwater would call on Dottie if the kids were out sick, or sometimes even if she just needed a break.

  “Well, I know, but quite frankly, it’d be good to have a full-time job somewhere, instead of wondering from one day to the next what I’ll have coming in.”

  “Looks like you got a pile of money today. That from the lunch shift?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what I’d have done if Sweet didn’t show up and help me out. I’ll have to split some of this with her, but I’ll still make out okay, I suppose.”

  “Whaddaya mean you have to split with Sweet?”

  “She took a pile of orders and got drinks for just about everyone. I can’t leave her out, Lou. That’d be wrong.”

  “Did she bring out the food? Did she bus the tables? I doubt it.”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Then you don’t owe her a dime,” LouWanda said. “She was probably just making sure her own food got out on time.”

  Dottie stopped to consider this. Come to think of it, she overheard Sweet telling Bubba John they’d never get to eat at this rate. But Sweet was always helpful and never expected anything in return.

  “I know which ones she helped with. I’ll give her some of those. It’s not like it’s a fortune. Mayhew Junction isn’t exactly known for big tippers.”

  “Speaking of which,” LouWanda leaned in to whisper, “Did you hear about Beatrice Bradsher?”

  “About the lotto? Oh, yeah, tongues are wagging all over town, no doubt.”

  “She’s about to come into a windfall the way I hear it.”

  “I’m happy for her. Beanie could use a little good luck.”

  “Her and me, both,” LouWanda said. “I been playin’ the lotto for ten years and never got more than a couple of free tickets. I just wonder how she got so lucky.”

  “Beats me,” Dottie said. “Oh, I wish you would look here. Eustace Falwell has put his number on another one-dollar bill. If that don’t beat all…”

  “Musta been one of Sweet’s tables,” LouWanda observed.

  Dottie’s head snapped up.

  “Hey, I’m not dead, am I? It’s not the first time he’s left it, not that I’m interested or anything…” Dottie’s voice trailed off. “And besides, Sweet’s married!”

  “Since when has that been a discouragement to Eustace?”

  Dottie held the offending bill up to the light. “Good point, except if he was hoping to score, he could have at least put it on a fiver. No wonder he’s never had a girlfriend.”

  “Well, anyway,” LouWanda said, “I think I’m going to give Miss Beatrice a call. I heard it’s quite a jack
pot she won and I’m bettin’ she needs a few tax shelters for her cash.”

  “Y’all still working on getting that grant for the Historical Society?”

  “Yes Lord, and it is not a cakewalk, I’m telling you right now. Paperwork out the wahzoo. We could do with a few contributions to show some matching funds.”

  “At least it’s a worthy cause,” Dottie shrugged and scraped her change back into her apron pocket. “You wouldn’t believe how many people are trying to figure out how to get some of Beanie’s money. Sometimes I feel invisible.”

  “Honey, I would milk that one for all it’s worth, if I was you,” LouWanda said, dead serious. “What I would give to be a fly on some of the walls around here.”

  “There’s the difference between you and me, Lou. I have enough problems of my own without borrowing trouble. I’m happy to mind my own business.”

  “May I remind you that the Bible says we are our brother’s keeper? I am doing my Christian duty to watch out for others. And speakin’ of Christian, don’t call me Lou, for heaven’s sake. It’s LouWanda or nothing at all. You know I call everyone by their Christian name, even Eustace Falwell, though I have to say I can’t argue with his unfortunate nickname.”

  “Speak of the devil—here he comes now,” Dottie said, leaping to her feet and heading for the kitchen door. “Tell him I’ve gone home for the day.”

  “But that’s a lie…”

  “Fine, tell him whatever you want. Make something up.”

  “Dorothy Brentwood, you get yourself back here. Don’t you leave me alone with… Hey, Eustace! How you doin’ today?”

  Eustace Falwell grinned and swiped his hat off like his head was greased.

  “Afternoon, Miss LouWanda. You was just who I was lookin’ for,” he said and sat down at the table.

  “I was?”

  “Yeah, I done been over to the Emporium, so I know’d you must be across the way.”

  “Yeah, business is slow. I closed her up for the day,” LouWanda said.

  “Where’s Dottie?”

  “Oh, she’s in the back. I think she’s hidin’ from somebody.”