Page 57 of The Party Line

“Have you been sitting there all morning?” I asked.

“Nope.” He shook his head and coughed. “Went in to get an early lunch about thirty minutes ago.”

“Why did you do that?” I fussed at him. “You are supposed to have your medicine with food.”

“There’s still part of a bologna sandwich in my stomach,” he protested.

“Well, you are going to have to eat a little more.” I rushed across the yard to Aunt Gracie’s house. I still couldn’t see it as mine.

“Yes, ma’am, Miz Bossy Britches!” he yelled.

I dragged myself up the porch steps and into the kitchen, where Gina Lou was pouring sweet tea in a couple of glasses filled with ice. I would have as soon put the ice down my shirt as have cold tea.

“Hey, my room is all clean,” Gina Lou said. “The bedding is in the dryer.”

“That’s great. I’ve got to get Jasper’s noon meds out to him,” I said as I got his pills ready.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“No, it’s only for two weeks, but thanks for the offer.” I poured the noon pills into the small glass and picked up a bottle of water and his inhaler on the way out.

When he saw me coming across the yard, he started singing,“Here she comes, Miz Bossy Britches.”

“Hush!” I scolded as I twisted the lid off the water and handed it to him along with the pills. “Next time, wait for me to get here before you eat. The instructions say to take them with food, not thirty or forty minutes afterwards.”

He threw them all back and washed them down with a few swallows of water and handed the bottle back to me. “Go get me another ice cream sandwich. That should keep the pill police from putting handcuffs on me.”

I put the lid back on and set the bottle on the stump. “You are a smarty-pants today, so you must be feeling better. The doctor said lots of liquid, so you need to drink at least three bottles of water today.”

“I’ll drink coffee or tea—or even apple juice—but water gags me,” he protested.

“Lots of apple juice, then. See you later.” By the time I made it back to my house, twenty minutes of my hour was gone. I was surprised to see a sandwich, chips, and a pickle spear on a plate and sitting on the table.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I sank into a chair.

“You are so welcome.” Gina Lou carried the sweet tea to the table and sat down. “I figured if you were going to make it back out there in an hour, you would be pushed for time to eat.”

“You are so right,” I said as I bit into the best bologna sandwich I’d ever eaten. “Just the way I like it—mustard, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese.”

“I didn’t know what time you would be here, so I ate when I was hungry, about fifteen minutes ago,” she answered. “I can’t just sit around all afternoon. Tell me where to start cleaning.”

“Whole house needs done, so choose your place—maybe the upstairs, but not Aunt Gracie’s room. I’m still working on that,” I said in between bites.

“How will I know which is her room?”

“Red panties are on the bed. I cleaned out her dresser drawers and haven’t had time to do anything with them,” I said.

Gina Lou slapped a hand over her mouth. “Are you kidding me? Miz Gracie wore red panties?”

“Yes, she did.” The diary entry came back to my mind, and since I hadn’t found anything but red in her underwear drawer, I wondered if she was buried in them. If she was, I bet her dear mother flipped over in her own grave half a dozen times.

Gina Lou’s giggles were infectious, and soon we were both laughing out loud. She finally wiped her eyes on a paper napkin and hiccupped. “So, Miz Gracie had a wild side to her. Mama told me there was some big secret about this house. I never figured it would be red panties. I wonder if she hung them on the clothesline.”

“Probably not in her day. She would have washed them by hand and dried them in the bathroom, or maybe in a spare bedroom or ...” I remembered seeing one of those expandable wooden drying racks in the basement.

“Or what?” Gina Lou asked.

“In the basement,” I finished the sentence.

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