Filed to story: Love on the Sidelines (Natalie & Karl)
“He told me. But that doesn’t stop people from staring at us every time we go out, and none of the kids around here will talk to me.”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with your father. I think it’s because they don’t know you yet.” I got up to check the dough and prepare the pizza pans. “I have an idea. How would you like to work for me part-time until school starts? Say in the evenings for a few hours? You could work in the electronics department with all the computers and video games. I bet you’ll get to know the kids real fast that way. There’s always a bunch hanging around.”
“Honest?” His eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”
“You bet. And you’d be doing me a favor. Most of the people working for me don’t know anything about computers except the basics. Why don’t you drop by tomorrow and we’ll get you started?”
“I’ll have to ask Dad.”
“Okay, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
He got up and moved to where I was spreading the dough onto the pans. “You put your own toppings on?”
“Yes. They’re better that way. Want to help? You can do one and I’ll do the other.”
While I listed the items, he took them from the fridge, and we spent the next few minutes piling ingredients on. Since my oven was so small, we had to cook them one at a time, and as we waited, Daniel regaled me with stories of the salvage yard, where, apparently, he’d been spending his days.
“You should see it. They’ve got this huge backhoe, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. It just scoops those old cars up and dumps them on a flatbed trailer as neat as anything.” Well, that would sure make a lot of people happy, I thought ruefully. The salvage yard was in worse shape now than it had been when Frank ran it. Waist-high weeds had taken over every available bare spot, with small trees growing in clumps that couldn’t mask the rusty hulks of metal. The City Beautification Committee hated the salvage yard with an unstoppable passion. They had tried on several occasions to have the county confiscate it for nonpayment of taxes and plow it under, but there was a mystery surrounding the yard that no one could figure out.
Someone was paying the taxes on the place. According to the county tax assessor, every year when the taxes were due, someone would slip a plain white envelope into the night depository. All it contained was an untraceable money order and a typed note indicating that the money was to be used for taxes on the salvage yard. Foiled by this unknown person, the committee could only grit their mutual teeth and live with it.
Now it looked like they were finally going to get what they wanted.
“What’s your dad cleaning it up for?”
“He’s going to build a garage. One that works on diesel and gasoline engines both.
Bowie is going to help him run it after Lindsey leaves.” I was leaning over the oven, checking the pizza when he dropped that bombshell, and I jerked erect, burning my hand on the door in the process. I yelped, and instantly Daniel was by side, turning on the tap and shoving my hand under the cold water.
“If you get the temperature down fast, it won’t blister,” he said, sounding so much like Karl I could barely breathe. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if he’d pulled out a tin of bee balm.
My teeth ground together, but the question I was fighting slipped out anyway.
“Lindsey isn’t going to live in Morganville?”
“No. She said there were some things she had to do here, but after that she’s going to live near her mother.”
Her mother? Liz had left a few years after Lindsey vanished, taking her brood with her. Rumor had it that she was living in Tunica now, working at one of the new casinos.
In an odd sort of way, I missed her, although I knew Jenna had breathed a sigh of relief when she’d left.
What the hell was going on here? Karl and Lindsey had never married, Daniel acted like he barely knew his mother, Karl was building that huge house, and now Lindsey wasn’t even going to live in it with him. I felt like I’d been dumped without warning into an alternate universe, one where reality was skewed beyond recognition.
I shook my head in confusion and realized Daniel was watching me, a concerned look on his face.
“Are you okay? Maybe I should get Dad.”
“No!” I forced myself to regain control, and smiled. “It’s fine, really.” I turned the tap off and dried my hand. “See? It’s not even red.”
“Okay, but
I’ll get the pizza out,” he said. He obviously no longer trusted my abilities around hot appliances. “It sure smells good.” It did, at that. The combined odors of mozzarella, tomato sauce, basil, and pepperoni filled the room as he carried the pan carefully to the table.
“Here.” I took the cutter out of a drawer and handed it to him. “You do the honors while I get the plates.”
“You use plates?” He was concentrating intently on cutting the pizzas.
I laughed. “You would too if you’d grown up with my aunt.”
“Which one? Darla?”
Surprised, I stopped and glanced at him. “You know about Aunt Darla?”
“I know about your whole family.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was almost a relief when someone knocked on the door, even though I was pretty sure I knew who it was.
I was right.