Charlaine Harris - Poppy Done to Death

For a few minutes, I hovered outside Phillip’s door, afraid we might have wakened him. But there was no movement from the room, no rustle of sheets. Struck with the sudden fear that he’d crawled out of the window, I opened the door a crack, and was reassured by the sight of a big bare foot hanging off the end of the bed.

I eased the door shut as silently as I could, then I hovered in the hall, trying to think of what I should do next.

Amazingly, it was only 5:00 p.m. Since it was November, the daylight was almost gone, but I thought of some errands I needed to run. I hastily wrote a note and stuck it to Phillip’s doorknob. After checking his clean clothes for sizes, I pitched them back in the dryer and set off for the small branch of Davidson’s that Lawrenceton was proud to have. I got my brother a package of underwear, a bundle of socks, a pair of jeans and a pair of khakis, and two shirts, a T-shirt and a nice sports shirt, and a jacket. Crossing over to Wal-Mart, I quickly purchased a comb and brush, a toothbrush, and a razor and some shaving cream. I grabbed some gloves, too; his hands had been bare.

Satisfied that I could clothe and clean him, I made one more stop, at the grocery store. I had a dim awareness that teenage boys ate a lot, but I wasn’t really sure what they ate a lot of. I got some frozen pizzas, some Bagel Bites, and some egg rolls. I got some milk, too, and a bottle of soda.

By the time I’d unloaded all this booty and folded Phillip’s dry clothes, it was seven o’clock. I called Mother to find out what was happening. She sounded exhausted and tearful, and she said John wasn’t feeling very well. After a long, long “interview” with Arthur Smith, John David had arrived at the house to assume his role as chief mourner. Mother thanked me from the heart for running him to ground and getting him to go into SPACOLEC with Bryan Pascoe. “Avery was really angry for a while, but I think he sees now that you were right,” Mother said.

“I’m sorry if you’ve had to take the fallout from people who were really mad at me,” I said. The thought did cross my mind that it seemed to take very little to make Avery angry with me. “I had to stay with Phillip, to get him straightened out.”

“I do wish all this hadn’t happened at the same time.” I knew Mother had to have been really distressed even, to voice that much complaint about something that simply couldn’t be helped. “John told Avery that you’d done more practical things to help our family than had even occurred to him. John, that is.”

“That was sweet of John,” I said, abruptly aware of how fond I was of my stepfather. He was a better man than my real father. I felt cold and disloyal for that thought instantly, but I made myself face it and admit it was true. God wasn’t going to strike me dead for admitting my own father wasn’t a perfect man.

“How long is the boy staying?” my mother asked. Her voice was a little stiff. She had always had a hard time with the existence of another child of my father’s, but I hoped she would get over it right now.

“I think at least for this week. He’s out for Thanksgiving break now. I got the impression that things are going pretty badly between Dad and Betty Jo.” No point in spelling out my father’s peccadilloes. As far as my mother was concerned, it was an old story. “Phillip got caught up in the middle of that. He made his way over here, and I hope he can stay for a while. He’s so big now, Mother, you wouldn’t recognize him.”

“Just like Phil, messing up a second chance to get it right,” my mother said.

This was such a vulnerable way to put it, and her voice was so unhappy, it was hard for me to believe I was listening to the same stiff-backed woman who had created her own fortune after my dad had left her. The shock of Poppy’s death had cracked Mother wide open.

“Have Poppy’s parents come in yet?”

“No, they’ll be here in about an hour, I think. Then poor John will have to go through another emotional scene.”

“Why?”

“Well, he feels obligated.”

“No, Mother. John David is obligated, not his dad. You make John go to bed, tell him John David and Avery can handle the Wynns. In fact, they can all go to Avery and Melinda’s. For that matter, I can put the Wynns up. I have another bedroom, and all I have to do is go make the bed.”

That would make my life even even more confusing, but I wanted to help my mother any way I could.

“I’ll give you a call back on that. But you’re right,” she said resolutely. “John needs to rest more than he needs to worry. Avery and Melinda are perfectly capable of handling whatever comes up. And poor John, he keeps thinking that he and John David are so alike because John lost his first wife and now John David’s lost his… but the situation is totally different. Tell me, where was John David when you tracked him down?”

“Ah, he was visiting a friend.” I closed my eyes at my own stupidity. That had sounded pretty lame.

“Visiting a friend, in the afternoon of a workday.” My mother’s eyebrows were probably arched clear up to her hairline. “I’ll be willing to bet the friend is pretty and female and wasn’t wearing work clothes when she opened the door.”

I winced. “Well…”

“You don’t need to say anything else,” Mother said. “And Poppy, bless her heart, was just as bad. People these days are just like rabbits. Everything’s sex. No duty, no loyalty. By the way, where’s Robin?”

I didn’t like her thought association there, and she was not the first person who’d asked me today where Robin was. We weren’t engaged and we weren’t talking about marriage. We weren’t a locked-in official couple.

“He’s in Houston. He’ll be back day after tomorrow,” I said, sounding just as stiff as my mother.

“Do you think he and Phillip will get along?”

“Mother, you have enough to worry about right now. I believe I can handle Phillip and Robin.”

“You’re right. Well, let me go. I have to convince John he’s not responsible for the whole social process surrounding Poppy’s death, and I have to remind John David that he is .”

“Good luck, Mother. I’ll be there when I can. Remember, if the Wynns need a place to stay, the door is open. Just let me know thirty minutes ahead of time.”

“Thanks, baby. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Because I couldn’t seem to sit still, I went to the third bedroom and made the bed, just in case. If the Wynns drove in from their retirement community in the next hour, it would be at least another hour after that before they’d be ready to retire, and they might well want to go see Poppy’s body. Could they? Or would her body have already been sent to Atlanta for autopsy?

I just didn’t know.

I yawned, a big jaw-cracking yawn. I’d run out of steam.

Phillip shambled into the living room and plopped down on the couch opposite my chair. He was looking much better, and he was smiling.

“Thanks for the clothes and stuff,” he said. “It was neat to find the bags in the room when I woke up.”

I was glad I’d passed a rack of those drawstring flannel pants at Wal-Mart, because that was what Phillip was wearing, the pants and the sleeveless T-shirt he’d had on under his flannel shirt.

“I was glad to do it.”

“Listen, what’s happening about your sister-in-law?” he asked.

I told him what the situation was, and he was openmouthed at the awfulness of the adult world. Moments like this reminded me how young my brother really was.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry,” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, yes. Just point me at the kitchen. I can fix stuff myself.”

“Has your mom been working these past few years?” I felt guilty for not knowing this basic fact about Phillip’s life.