Stand By Your Man

Chapter Sixteen

I was closing in on three o'clock in the afternoon. The sun had warmed the autumn air to a right tolerable temperature, and everywhere I looked brightly colored leaves were falling, swirling down around my feet as I walked slowly down Nosmo King's driveway.

All in all, it might've been a lovely afternoon, had I not had Vernell Spivey to deal with and Marshall Weathers on my tail. My feet wouldn't quite land where I aimed them, and it was taking a lot of my concentration to walk in a straight line toward my car. It's not as if I were drunk exactly, just a tad wobbly. My head was as clear as could be, my feet were my only problem, or so I thought.

I got right up to the car and saw no sign of Vernell.

"Vernell Spivey, if you've run off like the low-crawlin' snake that you are, I'll have your hide before sunset!"

The bushes off to the side of the driveway rustled, and out stepped my ex-husband, a red and gold leaf clinging to his phony gray beard. His wig was askew and his clothes were rumpled. It didn't take long to realize that while I'd been sweating it out with Weathers, Vernell Spivey had been peacefully napping, as if he didn't have a problem in the world.

Vernell let out a long, slow whistle. "Maggie, you're a picture. Why, just look at you. With that emerald dress and them green eyes, baby, I don't know why I…"

"Vernell, shut up. Sweet talkin' don't work on me. Now tell me what's going on and be quick about it. It's only a matter of time before that detective comes hunting me up, and I'd like to know the truth before I have to face him down again."

"You know," Vernell said, "you are just like your mama made over. I swear, honey."

"Vernell. The truth."

Vernell sighed and fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, found none, and frowned. "Come on back here, then," he said. He took two steps toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the bushes.

"Vernell!" This was vintage Vernell behavior.

"Maggie, it ain't what you're thinking. I just don't want that police of yours to come waltzing down the lane and come up on me. We're just gonna sit on the other side of this bush and have us a heart to heart."

Vernell broke through the thick branches, pulling me with him, until we'd crossed through them. We came out in front of the bass pond.

"Now, see here, isn't this better?"

I took a look around and had to admit Vernell had found a tiny piece of heaven. The pond was still, autumn leaves from the hickories and maples that surrounded it were floating like tiny boats across the water. The ground was a thick cushion of reds and golds and the sun streamed through the break in the trees like waterfalls of bright light.

Vernell sat down and patted a spot right next to him. "Come here, Maggie. I'll tell you everything."

I sat down beside him. That was the trouble with Vernell. He was always going to tell me everything, but weeding out the truth from the way Vernell wished things to be took time and skill and years of living with a man who just wouldn't grow up.

"You 'member that time me and you went down to Lake Burton in Georgia?" he asked softly. I nodded and said nothing. It had been our honeymoon and I was three months along with Sheila.

"That sure was a good time, wasn't it?" I nodded again. It was back in the olden days, back when Vernell had stopped drinking for a time, and was taking his responsibilities as a future father seriously.

"I recollect sitting on the end of that dock by the boathouse," he murmured, "just a-swinging our feet, dippin' 'em in the water on account of it was still so warm from the summer, and jest a-holdin' your hand, all afternoon."

I remembered. I remembered so well it began to hurt, grabbing at my heart and squeezing it tight.

"Maggie," he said, his tone taking on a serious quality, "I'm sorry."

I looked up at him and sighed. "Sorry for what, Vernell?"

Vernell met my gaze and held it. "I'm sorry for every time I've ever hurt you. I'm sorry for being a dog, and drinking, and not being a husband to you. I'm sorry for breaking your heart and running off. I'm sorry for leaving you to pick up the pieces."

He reached over and took my hand. "Maggie, I'm sorry for losing the chance to be the one love of your life, 'cause it's too late now and I know it. It's too late to ever go back."

I felt the tears prick at my eyelids. "Let it go, Vernell."

"These past few days, I've been thinking a lot of things over. I've made a lot of mistakes, Maggie, and I can't make some of them right. There's water passed under the bridge and years gone that can't never be brought back." Vernell looked at me, reached out with his free hand, and tipped my chin up so that I had to look at him.

"I love you," he said. "I know that ain't what you want to hear now, but I do love you." He sighed and looked away for a second, then brought his attention back to me. "I just couldn't love you as a husband."

The pain in my heart intensified. He was slowly opening every old wound we had together and I couldn't stand it.

"Vernell, don't do this."

"Well dad gum it, I have to," he said. "Maggie, I know you don't want me back. I know we couldn't ever have what we had and it be right. But we've got to move on with our lives, and I can't until you forgive me."

A fish jumped out on the lake and I turned my head away. Forgiveness. It was easy as pie to tell Vernell I forgave him, but had I really? Could I look God in the eye and tell Her I had a pure heart? I shut my eyes and thought for a moment, really thought. I hated Vernell Spivey for the things he'd put me and Sheila through, but did I wish him evil? No. Trouble was, I understood Vernell completely, and I believed him. He did love me, but not in a way that could work for either of us.

"Vernell," I said softly, "I do forgive you."

Vernell sighed a big sigh of relief and dropped my hand. "Good," he said, "because I need to tell you I've done fallen in love, and it's the real and true thing this time, and I by God think I need to marry her and do this thing right for once!"

Vernell jumped to his feet, brushed himself off, and appeared ready to take flight. I sat there for one brief second before I, too, jumped up, but it was to grab Vernell Spivey by his polyester coat lapels and give him a solid shaking.

"Vernell Spivey, I have let you work me yet again! You are going nowhere. Nowhere, do you hear me?" I shook him and took great satisfaction in seeing the gray wig slide a little further to one side. I reached up with one hand and snatched off the fake beard.

"Ouch!"

"Vernell, your cheatin', lyin', stealin' days are over. You square up with me right now and tell me what's going on. Don't you try and lull me into some la-la land of past rights and wrongs. I want to know where you've been, and why there's a dead man in your vehicle and where your gun is, and what happened to all the money. And I intend to find that out right now, today, before you can turn and run."

The bushes rustled and parted. "My questions exactly," a deep voice said. Marshall Weathers had found us.

He stepped through the hedge and emerged in front of us. Vernell's jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"Vernell," Marshall said, "I'm thinking it's time we went downtown and had a talk."

Vernell's eyes hardened and I knew he was about to become the obstinate cuss he could be when he didn't want to do something.

"Why?" Vernell asked. "I don't see we have anything to talk about. You want to talk to me, you can call my attorney. Make an appointment, detective."

I shook my head and closed my eyes. Here we go.

"Vernell, we can do this one easy, or we can do it hard. It don't make no difference to me."

I opened my eyes in time to see Vernell start to bluster. He waved his arms and was just about to launch into a tirade when Weathers stopped him.

"Vernell, is that a gun?"

Vernell dropped his arms to his sides, but it was too late. Strapped under his shoulder was a brown holster with a silver gun handle sticking out for all the world to see.

"Vernell, turn around and put your hands out where I can see them." Marshall's voice had hardened; he was all business now. Any hint of compromise had just evaporated at the sight of Vernell's pistol.

"You don't have a license to carry concealed," Marshall said. "Vernell Spivey, I am placing you under arrest." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pair of cuffs, and slipped them onto Vernell's bony wrists.

"What are you doing?" I said. "You know Vernell. He would no more hurt you than fly to the moon! What are you doing?"

Weathers spun Vernell around and I caught a glimpse of the frightened boy that lived inside Vernell. This was too much. Granted, I was shocked to see him with a gun, but it had to be because he was scared, not because he was dangerous.

"Maggie, stay out of this, all right? It'll work out."

"Maggie, call me a lawyer, will you, honey?"

I just stood there, looking at them. The way I felt must've been written all over my face because both men stared at me with the same determined yet helpless-to-do-anything-else looks on their faces.

"I don't believe this," I said again. "Vernell, you could've made it easy. You know Marshall. You could've just talked to him. And you," I said, turning my attention to Marshall. "You don't need to treat him like a common criminal. Are you so Ml of yourself that you can't be human? Is that what policing is?"

"Maggie, I don't have time to explain this to you now," Weathers said, and started off through the bushes with my ex-husband.

"Marshall Weathers, there is no explanation, there is no excuse for this, so don't you bother ever trying to offer one!"

He didn't look back, but I could see the jaw muscle start to twitch. I wanted to hurt him. How cruel could he be to drag Vernell away like a stray dog? How could he not listen to me? Granted, Vernell was acting the fool, but to actually arrest him on a simple charge like carrying concealed without a permit?

I followed them through the bushes, steaming. Marshall's car was parked in front of mine, and closer to the barn. He'd found a spot I hadn't seen and had wedged his unmarked car right in between two pickups.

"Vernell, I'll follow you down and meet you at the station."

Both men whirled around and spoke in unison. "No!"

Vernell took the lead and said, "Maggie, just call me a good lawyer. I can take care of myself now, honey."

I stared at him and saw the determination square up in his shoulders. Vernell was turning a new leaf and I didn't need to be the tree he leaned against.

Marshall had to put his two cents' worth in behind Vernell. "And you can't drive drunk," he warned.

"I'm not drunk," I said, suddenly aware of just how sober I felt. Marshall turned away, marching Vernell up the drive.

As they rounded the corner, the side door to the barn swung open and Bess King emerged.

Marshall kept walking, oblivious to Bess, but Vernell froze, forcing Marshall to tug at his arm.

Bess stood absolutely still, her dress fluttering gently in the breeze, blowing back against her body and outlining her form. The sun hit at just the right angle, forming a halo around the crown of her hair. She stood staring at Vernell, her expression pained, as if she'd been struck. Her mouth opened, then closed, her head dropped into her hands, and her shoulders caved in and began to softly shake.

"Bess," Vernell cried out, as Weathers opened his car door.

She raised her tear-stained face and stared at him, but she still didn't move or say a word. She seemed frozen.

Weathers tucked Vernell's head and pushed him down into the car. This time he noticed Bess, staring at her, his eyes flinty and hard. Then he looked over at me.

"Maggie, catch a cab home. I'll call you later," he said.

"No, Marshall, you won't. I don't ever want to speak to you again."

I saw the words cut into him and hurt him, and still I turned away, because in that one moment I felt my heart snap right in half. Marshall Weathers was as lost to me as a summer breeze on a winter's night.