Page 58 of Break My Fall

The conversation was easy after that, and Gray did his best to absorb everything he could. He’d learned early on that while the town elders might be deadly on the roads, and might have tongues that could be sharp, they were also a wealth of information. They had the wisdom of years and the experience to spot patterns that younger citizens simply couldn’t grasp.

In the space of twenty minutes, Gray learned about two pregnancies, a scandalous love affair going on “right under everybody’s noses” at the local bank, and how two teenagers he’d had his eye on were, according to Granny Quinn, selling pot at the high school.

Granny Quinn served vegetable beef soup that she’d canned in the fall with cornbread she’d cooked in a cast iron skillet and, of course, the contraband biscuits and jelly. All of this was washed down with sweet tea. And then she brought out a peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream.

At that point, Gray had to say something. “Do you eat this way every day?”

Papa Quinn shook his head. “Nah. My Catherine can’t bear to have guests and not put on a spread of some kind. She’ll feed me leftovers tonight.”

Granny Quinn cut her eyes at her husband, but then took his hand and squeezed. “Poor dear. It’s a hard life.” And then they smiled at each other.

Gray wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to have someone look at him the way Granny looked at Papa. It wasn’t the way she’d probably looked at him when they were young and in the first days and years of love. It was intentional love. On-purpose love. It was the kind of love that came about after decades of choosing to love.

Granny Quinn took a bite of her cobbler and tapped the edge of her plate with her fork. “Janet, tell us what’s going on in Neeson these days. We’re hearing some things.”

“Oh, Catherine. It’s a sorry state of affairs. I never would have dreamed it. Marvin and Dennis were such nice young men. And now? I tell you. The things you hear! I mean, I’ve known for years that Marvin was into all kinds of shady things, but I thought he kept it a secret from Dennis. But now I hear that Dennis knows all about it and won’t do anything.”

“Surely not.” Granny took a sip of her coffee, and her eyes met Gray’s. “Seems like the police chief ought to arrest a man if he knows he’s up to no good.”

Mrs. Frost gave a prim nod. “I agree with you. But you know those two. They weren’t ever the same after that McAbee boy got hurt.”

Papa Quinn hummed in acknowledgment. “That was a long time ago.”

“Oh yes.” Mrs. Frost shook her head. “He died a couple of years ago. Lived all these years, but he wasn’t ever the same.”

Gray couldn’t take it. “I’m sorry, but the McAbee boy? How did he get hurt?”

“No one knows.” Mrs. Frost gave him a blank look.

Did she really not know? Or did she not remember? Gray shot a look at Papa Quinn, and thankfully he jumped in.

“I remember when it happened. Heartbreaking. Do I remember this right? That Kirby, Johnstone, and McAbee were close friends?”

Mrs. Frost nodded. “Never saw one without the other two. Until Lawrence, that was his name, went missing.”

“They didn’t find him for three days.” Papa Quinn looked grim. “We helped look. A bunch of us from the church went up there. Walked through the mountains. I remember the boys were questioned about it at the time, but they claimed they had no idea where he was.”

Gray found that an interesting choice of words. Papa Quinn obviously didn’t believe their “claim.”

“Found that poor boy in the woods, beaten near half to death.” Mrs. Frost shuddered. “Took him to Asheville, then on to Duke. Did all they could for him, but ...”

“He had severe brain damage from the assault,” Papa Quinn explained. “Most of his physical abilities came back after he healed, although I believe he had a significant limp. But his cognition never returned to what it had been before. He didn’t know his name or where he was. He could speak, but not much.”

“The worst of it was, they never found out who did it.” Mrs. Frost took another bite of cobbler. “The rumor was that he’d accidentally come upon some outlaw types. And he might have. Our mountains can be a good place to hide if you’re of a mind to.”

The conversation spun off in a different direction for a while with Granny and Mrs. Frost reminiscing about some criminal who’d hidden out for a few years before he was caught. But eventually Granny steered the conversation back to Neeson.

“I hear y’all are about to have a big wedding up there. Our Meredith is doing the flowers. Were you invited?” Granny asked Mrs. Frost.

“Oh yes. I believe they invited the whole town.”

Neeson wasn’t large, but the whole town? There wasn’t a church big enough to hold everybody.

“But just to the reception,” Mrs. Frost added. “They’re having the church wedding for family and close friends, and they invited everybody to the reception out at the river. Which is all well and good, but what if it rains? Or snows? Who has an outdoor party in March?”

Gray had no idea where “out at the river” was, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out.

And he hated it for Mrs. Frost, but as far as he was concerned, rain or snow might be the best thing that could happen that day.

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