They weren’t typical questions that women have asked me in the past, but then again, this woman isn’t from Greenton, she’s a nomad. She wouldn’t know who my parents are and why I began the shelter, or where I got a certain dress, or if Sandra in town was my hairdresser. I excused myself because I didn’t plan on staying there as long as I did, and the conversation felt like a one-sided interview. After I wrote a note to Winnie, I locked the office and felt the woman’s eyes on my back as I left the building.
Tannie wasn’t surprised when I stopped by and I’m sure it’s because my mom called her to tell her. She was cool and distant, and she had to leave before I did because she was going to meet Joe. I mean, she didn’t say she was going to meet Joe but her lack of explanation on where she was heading told me she was meeting him. The goodbyes went smoothly, and I’ve had a pit in my stomach. They assume I’ll be back, that I won’t be able to hack it outside of Greenton, Alabama. Now I don’t just have something to prove to myself, I have a mission to prove everyone else wrong in the process.
I drive cautiously, taking my time as I drive onto the Ballentine property. Mercer is waiting outside for me when I arrive, like he’s done on multiple other occasions. I park the car in front of a garage bay and Mercer opens the car door for me.
“There you are. How did it go?” He offered to be with me when I said goodbye to my parents, but I wanted to do it alone. They already think I’m leaving for him; I didn’t want his presence to give them more reason to assume so.
“Mama set you up in the guest room,” Mercer rushes out. “I told her you could sleep in my bedroom with me, but she wouldn’t have it. I think she’s scared of your mother.”
“That’s insane. I respect her wishes though.”
“Can I sneak in tonight?” Mercer asks, waggling his brows as he extends his hand to me. I grab my oversized purse, with a change of clothes and my toiletries off the passenger seat and take his hand, shaking my head no even as I say, “Yes.”
He leads me in the front door, and I’m surprised by the jubilant atmosphere inside his home. He’s leaving to go to Cape Cod, and then back to war and his parents are acting like it’s a celebration. My face must relay confusion because Mercer leans down and says, “They like me to leave with a happy vision,” he says. “It’s a little crazy, but it’s how they’ve been since the start of my military career. Like if they showed how sad they were, it might put my life in jeopardy.”
Smirking, I whisper, “I think they’re just excited to have an empty house tomorrow so they can do indecent things anywhere they please.”
He tightens his hand on my shoulder as he laughs. “Thanks for that image. I’ll never be able to burn it from my mind.”
The evening rolls on and we debate going to DR for a drink and to see anyone we’ve missed, but Mercer wants to spend more time with his parents instead. He saw Bentley all morning. I excuse myself from their parlor and head upstairs to the guestroom where I left my bag earlier. It’s cool and quiet here, so I’m startled when their doorbell rings out, a warning cry.
Then I hear my father’s voice.
Chapter Twelve
___________________________________
Clover
“HOW CAN YOUdo this to me?” my daddy says, voice laced with surgical precision. Mr. Ballentine replies to his question, but his voice is lower, pacifying, calmer. I creep from the bedroom and make my way into the upstairs hallway. Their voices carry better from this vantage point and I need to hear everything.
“First your son decides to whisk my daughter to the North and now you’re trying to take my job? After everything we’ve been through? Years and years of friendship and comradery you’re flushing down the loo? What are you thinking? Our partnership worked perfectly. A well-oiled machine that everybody accepted.”
“Clover was making plans to move long before my son came home, sir,” Mr. Ballentine fires back. Before my daddy can argue, Mercer’s daddy goes on. “Our partnership worked foryoubecause it’s about what you want, not about what’s best for our town, Wally. This is beyond me and you or just you, anymore. We need change. The people demand it. You can’t be blind to that. I don’t want people to accept me, I want to do right by them.”
My stomach fills with dread as I tiptoe to the landing of the stairs. This won’t end well for the Ballentines. Just as I told Mercer. Fuss all you want about change, but don’t try to trigger it unless you want a war of your very own.
“I never meant you any disrespect, in fact, I was hoping things would stay amicable between us.”
“Daddy,” I say, stepping out of the darkness. “Please stop. This isn’t the time for this.”
“And you,” Daddy rushes out, aiming a finger at me like a weapon. “You are a disappointment. You have no right to tell me to stop or to do anything. Deceiving everyone today at the festival with false promises of that date. The scheme. The gall of it all. I should have known the whispers around town about you and the Ballentine boy were true.” He clears his throat, realizing he is standing in front of his co-worker and not lashing me in private. “Bringing shame to the family name, nearly driving your mama into an early grave. Mark me, Clover, you will kill her.”
“Did it ever occur to you that Greenton is killing me? I’ve tried to do everything in my power to make this place something it’s not. The Ballentines don’t have anything to do with this. It’s between you and me. Let’s talk outside.” He has to know I’m trying to use distraction. I want him to focus his anger on me, someone he won’t hurt. Not Mr. Ballentine who might as well be a defenseless mole rat.
Daddy shakes his head, and I notice his tie is loose and his slacks are wrinkled. He’s out of sorts. “I’m here to talk to Earl about work, about him trying to steal my job from me.”
“It’s an election, Wally. I’m not stealing anything,” Earl Ballentine butts in, jaw clenching. “Let’s keep things fair and honorable. Like we always have.” There’s a tremor to his voice which leads me to believe things aren’t fair and honorable any longer. They probably haven’t been for years, and that makes the pit in my stomach turn into a boulder. Mercer appears in the grand foyer, a concerned look creasing his features. His mom puts a hand on his shoulder to tell him not to intervene.
My dad hangs his head, knuckles cracking by his side. “You don’t think I know how an election works?”
His steely gaze darts up to meet mine. “Bye, Clover,” Daddy says. “Best of luck keeping company with traitors.”
“That’s an awful thing to say,” Mr. Ballentine rasps. “A friend would be happy for me and wish me luck regardless.” Friends. Such an icy word that never means what it should in Greenton. Will that be different once I move away? Will others be my friend if I have nothing to offer?
“Luck,” Daddy scoffs. “You’ll need more than luck, Earl. You’ll need a God-sent miracle.”
Mr. Ballentine bristles. “Are you trying to intimidate me right now?”
