Page 77 of The Party Line

He stopped and seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts. “When Davis and I were born, there were no parties. My mama left me with my grandmother a week after I came into this world, and we never saw her again. So, anyway, my granny took me to work with her every day from the time I was a week old. She was nanny to Gracie as well as cook and housekeeper until Davis’s mama, Rita, recovered from giving birthto him. Then all three of us babies were in the house together every single day.”

“I kind of figured that out on my own,” I told him.

He nodded and pointed at the cardinal. “Gracie is giving me the sign to keep talking. So get comfortable because this is not a short story.

“I remember the day that we went to first grade. Rita held Davis’s hand, and Granny held mine and Gracie’s, and we all five marched into the room to meet our teacher.”

He was taking me so far back that we could still be sitting in the front of that tombstone until the cardinal found a mate.

He coughed and went on. “I cried and didn’t want to be left behind, but Gracie and Davis did no such thing. They waved at Granny and Rita and went right over in the corner and started whispering to each other. I didn’t want to be left out, so I let go of Granny’s hand and joined them. We were inseparable from that time on. Not that we hadn’t been before, but that day seemed to be a turning point.”

“I figured all that out, too,” I said.

“Aren’t you sassy? Just let me tell this in my own way. I want you to understand that there was a bond between us, but the one between Davis and Gracie went even deeper. I think they might have fallen in love when we were all still crawling around on the kitchen floor.”

“Really?” I didn’t dare tell him that I had snooped through her diary.

“Yep. Now, fast-forward—as you kids say these days—to that summer before we were fourteen. That was when we got drunk on the strawberry wine and when Davis and Gracie went about holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. Always seemed to me that they could talk to each other without words.”

“Did that make you feel left out?” I asked.

“Not in the least. We were all together every day, and we didn’t keep secrets from each other. I knew the minute that they admitted they had feelings for each other, and I wasn’t a bit jealous of Davis. Seemed likeit had been written in the stars even when they were just babies that someday they would be together,” he told me.

“Then he got killed, right?”

“No, that came after ...” He sucked in as much fresh air as his lungs could hold and didn’t cough when he let it all out.

“After what?” I expected him to tell me that it was time for us to go get ice cream and go home.

“The party line thing,” he whispered. “She always kept those two old phones in the house to remind her of what she heard that night when Davis kissed her for the first time. She said that they were a constant reminder to never trust a man again.”

“Did Davis hurt her that badly?” I asked.

Jasper shook his head. “Wasn’t Davis that caused her to go to her room for a whole week. Did I tell you why he was named Davis?”

“No, why?”

“His mama was Rita Poteet, and her mama’s maiden name was Davis. Her daddy was Billy Poteet.”

That part of history didn’t mean anything to me. I figured Jasper was rambling, but I kept quiet because I wanted to hear the rest of the story.

“Was he a part of the family that founded the town?” I was confused. Why would Rita be cleaning houses if she came from the county’s royalty?

“Yes, he was a cousin to them, but when he married Rita’s mama ...” He stopped and scratched his head, then grinned. “I remember now. Her name was Esther. Anyway, the family blacklisted him because she was kind of what we used to call ‘loose legged.’ He wound up working as a truck driver and drinking up whatever money he made on the weekends. I got sidetracked with my story. Betty—that would be Gracie’s mama—hired Rita to help my granny in the house. Rita was a beautiful young woman, maybe about nineteen when Miz Betty hired her. And about a year later, all of us babies were born. Davis was a family name on Rita’s side of the family, so when she gave birth to a baby with no father, that’s what she named him.Folks said that she was just a chip off her worthless father’s shoulder. Back then, having babies out of wedlock was a bigger deal than it is these days, and Rita and my mama were paddling the same canoe.”

I really didn’t want to hear the background of every woman who ever strolled down the streets of Poteet, but suddenly I understood—or thought I did. Gracie’s folks were the upper class, and they didn’t want their only child tangled up with an illegitimate son.

He glanced up at the cardinal, who was still sitting on the tree limb right above us. “Things kind of rocked on until the night of Gracie’s fourteenth birthday, and us being kids, we thought the world was perfect. Except that Gracie was the queen, and me and Davis were the fatherless kids of the help. Davis wanted to do something special for Gracie, but neither one of us had much money. I suggested that he pick the last roses of summer from the bushes beside Rita’s house—that would be the one where I live now—and if there wasn’t enough to make a bouquet, I would bring some from Granny’s old place. He thought that was a romantic idea, and together we fixed it up and tied it with a red ribbon.”

I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I found a shoebox tied with a red ribbon down in the basement. Inside was a bunch of dried roses and a wine bottle.”

“Probably the same one,” Jasper said. “This next part is hard, mainly because it reminds me of Gracie’s broken heart and Davis’s anger.”

“Was he upset because her parents didn’t want her tangled up with the help?”

“Well, there was that, and if it hadn’t been for the bigger issue, I imagine they would have sent her off to boarding school to get her away from him.”

“Bigger issue?” I whispered.

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