Chapter Ten

Brandy

I sat in the driveway for a long time. I couldn’t reconcile what I’d just seen with what, admittedly little, I knew about Collin. I’d watched what he drank, and he certainly didn’t seem like he’d had anything before he got there. Even the one drink he had wasn’t that strong, since I had two of them and was fine, and I was much smaller than he was. On top of that, his one drink was hours and hours ago, and we’d been dancing pretty vigorously between then and now.

There was just no way he was inebriated.

That’s not even beginning to touch on how there was absolutely nothing I saw that required the kind of violence the officer used on him. I didn’t see Collin make any moves toward him, be threatening in any way, or even say anything at all once he got out of the truck. He seemed to be walking the line of the road just fine.

I just didn’t understand.

The officer told me to never speak to him again. That Collin was a bad person. Why would he do that? What was the purpose of it all? It sure seemed like he had something personal against Collin, and what I witnessed wasn’t policing. It was assault.

Of all the men I’d ever gone on a date with, Collin would be the one I would least likely ever say would be in trouble with the law, or be arrested while I was with them, if at all. Yet, it happened. Now I had his truck in my driveway and no idea how to get a hold of any of his brothers to pick it up.

Basil’s car was already in the driveway when I arrived, and there were flashing lights from the television in the living room, though the rest of the house was dark. If I knew Basil well enough, she was likely in there falling asleep on the couch to a true crime show, or up with popcorn watching a movie. Either way, she was likely waiting for me to get home before going to bed.

I tried to be as quiet as I could putting the key in the door and turning the knob. But as I opened the door, a bowl of popcorn suddenly exploded near my face and Basil shouted.

“It’s me, it’s me!” I called.

“Jesus, Brandy, you scared the crap out of me!”

“Looks like you lost your popcorn,” I said, crunching over some of it as I got inside and shut the door.

“Yeah, well, I needed some kind of weapon,” she said.

“And you thought a bowl of popcorn would stop a deranged killer?”

“No,” she said, “but it might distract you long enough for me to grab, uh… a, uh… a lamp!”

She reached out and grabbed the small lamp on the table beside her and waved it like a rapier.

“Fantastic,” I said. “Good to know you can defend the house with the use of popcorn and clapper lamps.”

“This thing is a clapper?”

I clapped twice, and the light came to life in her hands.

“Whoa, I never knew.”

She placed the lamp back down on the table and stood. She was in a pair of Christmas pajamas, which I was convinced were the only kind she had, with candy canes and skulls printed all over them. I once asked her if she ever wore seasonally appropriate clothes to bed, and she’d shrugged. She said it didn’t really matter what she wore since she was going to tear it off in the middle of the night anyway. She might as well find the comfiest thing possible until she did that.

Apparently, the soft, fluffy fabric of Christmas pajamas were the ones she chose.

Grabbing the broom, I cleaned up the popcorn mess while Basil went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. As soon as I had thrown away the popcorn, she handed it to me, guided me to the living room, and threw herself onto the couch, crossing her legs under her and muting the TV.

“All right, tell me how it went. Other than what I saw, of course.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw some smooching,” she said. “Which I was highly impressed by. For one, he’s a tall dude, and you were stretching.”

She laughed and then seemed to realize I wasn’t laughing along with her.

“What happened? Did he make a move on you? Do I need to beat his ass?”

“No,” I said. “Nothing like that. If anything, I made a move on him.”

“Atta girl.”

“But something happened before we could do anything. I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“All right…” she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, as if she were preparing herself. “Hit me with it.”

“Well, he got pulled over. Which was weird because he wasn’t speeding or swerving or anything. But when he pulled over, he seemed to recognize the cop and was real upset about it. The cop said he suspected him of a DUI and pulled him out of the car.”

“Was he drunk? I mean, maybe not drunk, but tipsy?”

“That’s the thing; he wasn’t. He only had one drink, and that was right when I got there. After that, he had water and soda. And we danced a lot . There was no way he could still be tipsy that long after.”

“So what happened? Did he get a ticket?”

“No,” I said. “A lot worse than that. He got pulled out of the car to do a DUI test and he started walking the white line on the side of the road. I swear, he was doing just fine and being cooperative and everything, and all of a sudden, the cop pulled out this extending stick thing and hit him in the knee.”

“Oh my God!”

“He went down, and the cop kicked him really hard in the stomach and then slapped cuffs on him and put him under arrest for a DUI! Then he told me that Collin was no good. He said that I needed to stay away from him.”

“How did you get home?”

“The cop told me to take the truck home, and that they’d send someone for it tomorrow because he didn’t feel like dealing with a tow.”

“You mean you have his car in the driveway?”

“Yup,” I said.

She peeked out of the curtains and then turned back to me.

“Holy shit, Brandy.”

“I know, right?”

“You said he just whacked Collin for nothing? Just out of nowhere? Like, is it possible Collin was saying stuff under his breath or something?”

“Not that I could hear,” I said. “And I didn’t see his lips moving either. He was being silent and cooperative. It was so weird. And violent.”

“What was his name?”

Both of us turned to the voice in the darkness, standing in the hallway that led to her room. Grandma stepped forward another step, and the light of the lamp lit her face. She looked angry.

“I’m sorry?”

“The cop. What was his name? Was it Anderson?”

“Yes,” I said, the memory of his badge flashing back to me. “Yes, it was Eugene Anderson!”

“Of course it was,” Granny said. “Those no-good Andersons are forever causing trouble with the Galloway boys. You said you were out with Collin?”

“Yes,” I said, taken aback by not only how lucid she seemed, but how well she seemed to know Collin.

“He’s a good boy. Quiet. Very respectful. He wouldn’t hurt a fly if he didn’t have to. I suspect that’s why he came home so early. But those Andersons…. Ooh, they make me so mad.”

“Granny, are you… are you okay?”

She glanced back up at me as if she hadn’t thought about it, then realized she was clear-headed. A small smile crossed her face for a brief moment, and we shared a knowing gaze. I didn’t know how long I had her, but for this moment, I had my grandmother back.

I crossed the room and hugged her tightly, and she returned it as best she could.

“Did you go on a date?”

“I did,” I said.

She nodded and smiled, touching my face gently with the palm of her hand.

“That’s good. That’s very good. You shouldn’t be alone. That Galloway boy is the best of the bunch, if you ask me. He’s so sweet. Always bought a turkey sandwich on rye. Without fail, every Sunday, turkey sandwich on rye. Ever since he was a little boy.”

“You knew the Galloways as children?”

“I’ve known everyone in this town as children,” she said wistfully. “Including those damned Andersons. Pardon my language, but they are the worst. Their daddy was the worst, and their granddaddy was the worst too. The whole lot of them are poison apples. Not a redeeming note to them.”

“Why? What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re greedy,” she said. “And vengeful. Their grandaddy used to own a lot of the land in this town, and he sold it to the Galloways so he could invest in something or the other. Well, the investment went bad, and he wanted his land back. But the Galloways had already moved in and started working it; it was theirs fair and square. But it butted up against the Andersons’ land. So the Andersons would sabotage them, trying to hurt their income and scare them off.

“But the Galloways never budged. No, no. They stuck through it and stayed classy. I admired that about them. Even the daddy—he was quiet and cold, but he was respectable. Not like Old Man Anderson. And when the boys all got older, they hatched a plan to become police officers so they could hassle the Galloways legally. And they’ve been doing that, and hassling everyone else since.”

“Wow,” Basil said. “I had no idea.”

“Me either,” I said.

“That Eugene, I remember when he first became a cop. He used to come to the store and ask for free sandwiches. He used to imply that bad things might happen if we didn’t give them free stuff. I refused. I’d rather the place burn down first.”

She stared off in the distance for a long moment, then back to me.

“Anyway. I’m glad you’re home, dear.”

“I’m glad I’m home too, Granny.”

“Now you see to it you give your mama a hug and a kiss before bed. She will worry if you don’t.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop the tears that immediately welled up in the corners of my eyes. I’d had her. For just a few moments, I’d had my grandmother back.

“I will,” I said.

“Good night, dear. And good night, Bethel!”

“Bethel?” Basil asked as Granny closed the door of her bedroom.

“Bethel was one of my friends from elementary school. She used to come down to Foley and stay with us sometimes. She passed away of breast cancer a couple of years ago.”

“Oh, I remember that. I’m sorry, boo.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m just going to choose to be glad I got a few moments with my grandma tonight. Like she used to be.”

“Seems like getting upset at the Andersons brings her out of it,” Basil said.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I need to talk about them more often.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But for right now, I think you deserve to sit back down, put that glass of wine in your belly, and watch some true crime shows with me. What do you say?”

“I think that sounds great,” I said. “But I need some pajamas first. I don’t need my tits hanging out if I’m going to bed.”

“Speak for yourself,” Basil laughed. “It’s only because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable that I’m wearing anything at all.”

“And I appreciate that,” I said. “I’ll be back. I’m going to see if I have any Christmas pajamas myself.”