MOONSHINE

Mourning

Chapter 11

Oscar was dead.

Annabelle stood on the edge of the cornfield, waffling in her indecision. If she could get Matt alone, she might be able to tell him. She imagined the scene - her pulling him aside, then losing it. She would lose it. While not exactly calm, she at least wasn't crying. She knew if she had to turn to someone for help, she would cry. She did not want to do that in front of Matt. He might feel overwhelmed by the situation and look for outside help.

Annabelle turned and sat down at the edge of the bramble-covered yard between the cornfield and the house she shared with Oscar. He was in there, right now, dead in his recliner.

With effort, Annabelle forced herself up off her butt. The damp was seeping into her bottom and she had to move. With leaden footsteps, she trudged back to Matt's house. She had to have his help in this and she had allowed things to go on too long.

She heard the school bus stop at the end of the long drive. Why hadn't she just gone to school as if nothing had happened? Then she could have come home after Matt had found her grandfather's body on his own. She hadn't had sufficient time to prepare for that sort of shock. It was the whole surprise of it that made her react stupidly.

The bus pulled away from the driveway.

Annabelle felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. She had to get help. Slowly, she made her way back through the cornfield, toward the house that Matt shared with his brother and sister-in-law.

There, where the cornfield ended, it made an abrupt halt at the lawn. So flat you could shoot pool on this lawn. All she had to do was cross the yard and knock at the back door. Matt would come out and she would tell him. He could handle both burdens at once – taking care of his family's loss as well as her own.

The back door opened and Annabelle froze. Someone was just inside the door. Annabelle's vision dissolved as the liquid puddled in her eyes to the point of overflow. The person stepped out on the back porch. Annabelle blinked and tears streamed down her face and the figure of Tilly came into clear view.

Tilly, in a severe black dress, pulled the French door open and stood there between Annabelle and the person she wanted desperately to see. No way to take it back now as Annabelle was clearly standing in the middle of the yard. She walked toward the back porch.

"Mrs.... Maddox."

"Annabelle." Tilly never smiled. At least she never smiled at her, and Annabelle knew why.

"Is Matt in?" Annabelle wiped hastily at her cheek and Tilly Maddox drew her mouth into a hard straight line.

"No."

There was never any question in Annabelle's mind that Tilly Maddox resented the presence of her and her grandfather on the property. She resented them for the illegal business that threatened her husband's political career yet supported them all.

"You know when he'll be back?"

Tilly straightened her back and her eyes filled with puddles just like Annabelle's. "My husband has just passed away. Matt has gone to see about the arrangements."

Annabelle took a step back. "Yes, ma'am, I... I'm real sorry to hear that." Again, she wiped at her face. "I'm... I'm...." She wanted Matt. She had imagined Matt being the one who came to the door. She had imagined him comforting her, maybe even taking her in his arms and letting her have a cry on his shoulder. He would take care of her. Annabelle took another step back. She could not leave. She had no place to go. She took another step backwards. "Would you tell Matt I came? I need to talk to him."

Tilly nodded tersely.

"And I'm sorry for your loss." Annabelle turned and made the trek back across the backyard, skirting the flower bed that used to be an abandoned well. She felt Tilly's eyes burning a hole into the back of her head. She must be staring after her. At the cornfield, Annabelle turned to steal a look back, fully expecting to see Tilly still standing in the open doorway. Instead, there was no one there and Annabelle was certain her message would never be delivered to Matt Maddox.

Every footstep through the field was heavy as though her shoes were being sucked into the sandy ground. By the time she reached the rear kitchen door, she was almost too numb to move further.

Back inside, she found herself sitting in the living room on an empty sugar pallet.

Oscar was dead. Her thoughts swirled like dirty dish water down the kitchen sink. She was capable in every other respect. She did all of the cooking, cleaning, figuring out where she would come up with enough money for a silly school dance, but Annabelle didn't know how to deal with this mess – the mess that used to be her grandfather. She wrapped her arms around her waist and she rocked back and forth on the sugar sacks. Eventually, Matt would come. He would find her, and comfort her, and take care of her.