Page 14 of James

“We won’t know until we get there, and I really need my clothes, Dad,” Laura insisted.

Dan got himself together and they drove over to the laundromat. They had to make a few detours to avoid some broken tree limbs that still had to be cleared. When they got to the laundromat, they found the front of the building covered over in plastic and taped off, with a salvaged piece of plyboard where the front doors used to be, spray-painted letters reading,Closed for repairs.

“Well, I guess we made the trip for nothing,” Dan said and let out a tired sigh.

“I’m not giving up that easily. Let’s go around back and see what’s happening.”

Dan pulled slowly around the ruined building, muttering to himself about how it was ‘a lot more damage than you let on,’ and parked the car next to the back door. They both got out, Dan wandering over to look at the detritus of the flattened lots next door, and Laura looking at the bags and boxes of trash stacked up against the rear wall that certainly hadn’t been there earlier. The rear windows that had broken were boarded over, but the ones that weren’t showed a yellowish light shining through.

“Look, Dad,” she called, pointing at the window. “Someone’s here.”

She started knocking on the door and calling loudly until suddenly, the door wheezed open and an older woman with a camping lantern and a cigarette permanently affixed to her lip glowered out at her. “If you’re reporters, you can go away. I’m tired of silly questions like, ‘How does it feel to lose everything?’” She gave them a sour look. “It sucks, in case you were wondering.”

“We’re not reporters, I promise.” Laura held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I was here during the storm and my clothes are still here. I was hoping to get them back if it’s possible.”

“Oh, well, in that case, come on in.” The woman did not smile (likely the shellac of lipstick she wore would not allow it), but her cigarette tipped to a less aggressive angle and she cocked her head. “You look familiar. You’re one of my regulars, every Tuesday night like clockwork, two pods of NatureClean, no softener, and your nose in one of them trashy novels where the men all wear leather pants.”

“That’s me,” Laura said weekly, feeling her father’s stare boring into the side of her burning face.

“You’re one of the good ones. Never overload, never get rowdy, always clean up after yourself if you have a snack.” Without a change of expression, the woman dipped into her coat pocket and withdrew a crumpled cookie wrapper. “Almost always.”

“I’m so sorry,” Laura stammered, now blushing so hot, she was astonished her hair wasn’t catching fire. “I would have thrown it away if –”

“Oh, the whole damn lot is a waste bin now,” the woman said and tossed the wrapper aside to prove it as she turned and slowly limped toward the front room. “Don’t blame you a bit. Other things on your mind. Don’t even apologize for the door,” she added, opening it asLaura winced. “Nothing to be sorry for. If I’d been here like I should have been, I’d have unlocked it for you, but I sprained my ankle on Monday and figured everything here could wait a day or two. Then the tornado watch went out and I thought to myself, Mrs. Shepherd, I said, what kind of puddin’-headed fool is going to go out to the laundromat with a tornado watch going on? I’m really glad you and your boyfriend weren’t hurt.”

Her father made a choked sound. “Boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Laura replied hastily. “We happened to be here at the same time.”

The woman frowned. “But he was here earlier today to get his things and I could have sworn he said something about the two of you being together.”

“Oh, we were together in the tornado, nottogether-together. I’d only seen him here a couple of times before.” Laura wanted to press her hands over her burning cheeks. “I didn’t even know his name until the storm hit.”

The woman stared at her with all the emotion of a stone while water dripped somewhere in the room. “That explains that, then,” she said at last and turned around, flapping one hand in a lugubrious invitation to join her as she hobbled into the laundromat. “He asked me if I had seen you since the storm. He seemed like a decent sort from what I could tell. Said his company can get this place back in working order, so I gave him the owner’s information. Old walrus will take the insurance and run, no doubt, but I hope he does decide to repair things. I’m too young to retire and too old to call some pimple-face burger-flipper ‘Sir’. I’m Beatrice Shepherd, by the way. Beatrice to my maker, Mrs. Shepherd to everyone else. Should be Miss now, being fifteen years since my Arthur passed on. I told him to go easy on those pork rinds,weren’t healthy. He told me I’d take ‘em from his cold dead hands, and so I did, God rest him. Thought I should mention, although you hadn’t dropped your own name yet, as would have been polite in my day, but times change, I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you formally, Mrs. Shepherd. I’m Laura Turner and this is my father, Dan. Do you suppose we could get my things now?” Laura asked anxiously.

“Sure, sure. I took them out of the machine so they wouldn’t get ruined. I’m sorry I couldn’t dry them, but the power’s off, you know.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Shepherd.” Laura grabbed the woman’s hand and squeezed. “We won’t take up any more of your time. Let’s go, Dad.” Laura made it to the back room door before she realized her father wasn’t with her. Turning back, she saw Dan exactly where she’d left him, staring at Mrs. Shepherd who gazed coolly back at him while taking an exceptionally long drag on her cigarette.

“Dad,” said Laura, loudly.

Dan spluttered a little and managed a, “Thanks for helping out my daughter. It’s much appreciated.” He started to leave, only to turn back and offer a handshake. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Beatrice — Mrs. Shepherd, I should say. Good bye.”

“Charmed,” Mrs. Shepherd replied, but she said it with a smile and her lipstick didn’t crack after all.

By the time they got to Suzie’s house, Laura would have welcomed another tornado to save her from her father’s questions about James. She didn’t know the answers tomost of them and the things she did know about him, she wasn’t interested in sharing. At last, her irritation got the best of her and she interrupted yet another probing question with, “And what did you think about Mrs. Shepherd?”

She thought that might shut him up and it did, but for less than a minute before he remarked, “I wouldn’t mind being shut up in a broom closet with her on a rainy night, that’s for sure.”

“Dad!”

Fortunately, the conversation ended there as they arrived, right as Suzie pulled up beside them with the kids in the back seat.

“Granddad, Aunt Laura!” Abby cried, all but throwing herself out of the car. “Are you staying for dinner?”

More dignified Tim followed. “Will you help me with the trains, Granddad?” he asked. One of Dan’s few hobbies was electric trains and he had given Tim quite a few in the last couple of years.

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