Mayes, Casey - A Deadly Row

“It was your mother’s,” he said as he handed it to me.

“I thought I cleaned everything out after she and dad died,” I said. It had been a painful process going through their things after the accident, but I’d forced myself to do it, along with help from Zach and Uncle Thomas.

“You did, as far as you knew. Astrid asked me to keep this for her, and I didn’t have any way to say no. She told me to give it back to her in five years, and if she wasn’t around, I was supposed to give it to you then. Well, I’m not waiting another two years. You deserve to have it now.”

“What’s inside? Do you have any idea?”

“I never peeked, if that’s what you’re asking. It could be full of gold doubloons for all I know.” He hefted it in the air, and then said, “Strike that. Gold would be heavier than that.”

He offered it to me, but I had a difficult time taking it from him. “Maybe you should look first.”

Uncle Thomas shook his head. “Your mother was clear. I was not to look inside, no matter what the circumstances. I didn’t break my word to her when she was alive, and I’m not about to start now.”

“You’re not breaking your word,” I said. “You’d be doing it as a favor to me.”

“Savannah, I couldn’t love you any more if you were my own daughter, but there are some things I can’t do for you, and breaking my word is one of them. I’m sorry, I truly am, but I won’t do that.”

“I understand,” I said. I reluctantly took the box from him, and saw that while it had a certain heft to it, there wasn’t any gold inside, at least not literally. I couldn’t imagine what might be inside, but I was in no hurry to find out. I put it on the table beside my chair, still unopened.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Uncle Thomas asked.

“Yes, but I’m not ready to see what’s in there yet. I think I’ll wait until Zach can see what’s inside with me.” Many times, my husband was a source of strength for me, and whatever was in that box, I knew that I’d be better suited to handle it with him by my side.

“That sounds like the right thing to do,” my uncle said.

I looked around at the beauty outside. “What would you like for lunch? Should I make something for us?”

He grinned. “I’ve already taken care of it. There’s a pot roast in the oven that should be ready in about an hour.”

“We’re eating roast at ten thirty in the morning?” I asked, not able to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“I’ve become a fairly good cook, but I’m lousy at timing meals to come out when I want them. I don’t know how your aunt managed it all those years. If it’s too early, I understand completely. I guess I got excited that you were coming, so I kind of jumped the gun a little.”

“Ten thirty sounds perfect,” I said. “Can we eat out here?”

“We can eat wherever you want to, child,” he said with a grin. Had a weight been lifted off him as well? Uncle Thomas seemed relieved to have passed my mother’s box on to me, no doubt from fulfilling one of his last obligations to her. He’d loved my mother, and had shown her even more care when my uncle Jeffrey had left. He and my mom had been close, so the stories went, and when Jeffrey disappeared on his eighteenth birthday without a word to any of them, it had nearly broken her heart. That was when Thomas and his sister had formed such a tight bond.

We chatted for a while, and I heard the timer go off in the kitchen.

Uncle Thomas grinned at me. “It’s showtime. You grab the place settings and I’ll fetch the food.”

I was getting the plates in the kitchen cupboard when my uncle lifted the lid from the roast. It smelled divine, and I was surprised to realize that my mouth was watering, despite the time of day and the relatively full state of my stomach.

AFTER WE ATE, I NOTICED THAT IT WAS BARELY ELEVENo’clock.

I started carrying dirty dishes into the kitchen, and asked my uncle, “What would you like to do now?”

“After eating that much roast, I’d like to take a nap,” he said.

“Go on. I can occupy myself while you’re sleeping.”

Uncle Thomas laughed. “I was joking, Savannah. I’m not that old, at least not yet. I would love to have you stay with me all day, but I know you’ve got things to do, so you don’t have to keep me company.”

“Anything I’ve got on my plate can wait,” I said.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do,” I said. “I don’t have to leave for hours yet.”

“Then what do you say? Should we get the kayaks out and take a little trip on the water?”

I hadn’t been in a kayak forever, and I wasn’t even sure I could still paddle one, but the hope in his gaze was something I couldn’t bring myself to crush. “Let’s go.”

We loaded the kayaks into the back of his old brown Ford pickup, and I noticed large spots on the hood where the paint had peeled off, leaving a chalky gray surface exposed. “You should get that painted before it rusts.”

“I know, but I can’t find the right shade of spray paint to match it,” he said as we drove to the park. For an instant, I could swear I saw the black car again on the road, but it could just as easily have been my imagination. There was no doubt about it; I was starting to jump at shadows after spending so much time thinking about murder.

I tried to put that aside and get back to my uncle. “They have people who do professional paint jobs, you know.”

“Savannah, I’m not going to spend five hundred dollars getting an eight hundred dollar truck painted. This suits me just fine.”

It was true, too. There was something about that old pickup truck that matched my uncle’s personality. Though they were both tattered a little around the edges, there was a strength underneath that was undeniable.

We put the kayaks into the creek at the landing and glided through the water beside the path that ran around the perimeter of the park. Fishing bobbers hung from the trees like Christmas ornaments, lost to overly enthusiastic anglers, and logs from a recent storm were scattered in the water. As we turned a bend, a handful of ducklings and their mother paddled for shore. Uncle Thomas and I went all the way to the highway bridge, and as was our custom, we stopped underneath, listening to the cars thudding away overhead.

“Are you ready to head back?” he asked me after ten minutes.

“I am, if you are.”

“Let’s go then. I’ll race you to the landing.”

“I doubt I could beat you,” I admitted.

“Come on. You can do it. I have faith in you.” And then he took off like a shot in the water. I had no choice but to race after him, laughing so hard I could barely hold my paddle. Being with my uncle out on the water brought back a sense of joy to me that I hadn’t had in a long time. For those few moments, it was like being a kid again, and I reveled in what his presence could do for me.

THANKFULLY, I DIDN’T SEE ANY BLACK CARS ON THE WAYback to his house. After we stowed the kayaks away under the deck, he said, “Girl, you’re really good for me. I haven’t felt this young in ages.”

“Neither have I,” I said. I glanced at my watch and saw that the afternoon was quickly slipping away. “I hate to say it, but I should probably head back to Charlotte.”

“Thanks for coming. You made my day something special.”

“I’ll try not to stay away so long next time,” I said as I headed for my car.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

Then I remembered my mother’s box, still sitting on the screened porch by my chair. “That’s right.”