Johnny Cakes (The Rachael O'Brien Chronicles) Read online

  “Is that water running?” he asked.

  “My tub.” Snapping to attention, I darted up the stairs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Steamy Jean Nate water fogged the bathroom vanity mirror. Palming the moisture off, I noticed my shirtless self.

  Mitch probably thought I was the free spirit, prefer-to-be-naked type.

  I’d met Mitch’s sister, Patsy, on a weekend away in Katie Lee’s hometown, my freshman year. Although Katie Lee chose questionable boyfriends, she had excellent taste in best friends and their brothers. I adored both the McCoys and owed a debt of gratitude to Mitch. He possessed a canny knack for good timing, and had once saved my ass from the sausage-fingered grip Billy Ray had around my neck. I uncapped the toothpaste and started brushing. A bad feeling sunk into my gut. Oh God, had he stopped by to tell me something horrible had happened? I unplugged the tub stopper. It wasn’t like I could take a soak knowing I had company downstairs. My hand settled on the doorknob. I needed a clean shirt and an explanation, but before I got either, a snap sparked and the lights blinked off. The compressor in the outside air-conditioning unit puttered into a slow grind as it decelerated. “Mitch, you still down there?”

  “The power’s out,” he shouted.

  “Someone probably got distracted looking for the Chicken Bucket drive-thru and mowed into a sub-station,” I said as I felt my way down the hallway to grab a t-shirt from a dresser. As night approached, I could make out my bed’s fabric-covered headboard to the right side of a bay window and Francine’s, the mirror image of mine, on the left. Before I arrived, straws were allegedly drawn, and it was determined that the mouthy one and the one who attracted demented artsy types would bunk together. Initially miffed, I’ve come to realize that with Roger’s boyfriend stamina, everything worked out, since Francine spends most nights at Boy Wonder’s place. Psych on them, I have the largest bedroom, with a balcony, mostly to myself.

  Glints of light threw shadows across the laundry basket on the floor. I plucked out a clean t-shirt from the folded pile and peeked outside as I dressed. A streetlight cast a glow on the parked Galaxie. Across the alley, two houses down, a porch light lit a back deck and I wondered if that street was on a different power grid. A car door slammed and headlights lit. I couldn’t see inside, but I did catch the license plate as it slipped past our house. Georgia BVG 169.

  With an eye on the taillights, I shouted, “Mitch, make sure the slider door is locked.”

  “I’m here.”

  Spinning around, I threw my hand to my chest. His towering figure took up most of the open doorway.

  “See anything interesting?”

  The hairs on my arm stood straight. “How long have you been standing there?”

  He moved into the room and stood next to me. “I’d forgotten …”

  “Forgotten what?”

  “You.”

  I placed my hands on his forearms and they tensed beneath my palms. “Mitch, what’s going on?”

  Nearly pressed against one another, I drank in his warm musky scent. His heart pounded against mine.

  “Raz, I’ve made a mistake and it’s going to ruin my life.”

  THE POWER WAS OUT, but neither Mitch nor I noticed. Between us, the electricity was on. He and I passed the time in the dark on my bed. I perched on my side while he laid flat on his back. His hand stretched through the space under my arm and gathered the ends of my hair that spilled onto the comforter. Up until now, I’d protected him and myself by suppressing my attraction. I’d been too much of a scaredy-cat to get involved with him, mostly because of his age, or lack of, for fear of things going south and all the heartbreak that could cause.

  “Mitch, are you sure?”

  He swallowed his worries as his free hand covered his face. “No, I’m not at all sure.”

  I chose my words quickly, but spoke them slowly. “Do you think there’s a chance she’s lying?”

  “Maybe. But why would Kelsie do that?”

  Mitch McCoy was a catch. Everybody knew it except him. The catty label-someone-before-you’ve-met-them side of me had a hunch that Kelsie Kay knew it, too. “She wants you all to herself.”

  “That’s redneck. She’s not like that.”

  “You don’t even remember being with her. If you were that drunk.” I tipped onto my back and stared at the crown molding that wrapped around the ceiling. “Was it even physically possible?”

  “Raz. What am I going to do?”

  “Who knows you’re here?”

  “I was supposed to go visit Patsy at East Carolina. I didn’t get on that bus.”

  “Don’t you think she’s gonna call your mom when you don’t show?”

  From downstairs a door slammed and muffled voices spoke. “You need a new car. The radio only gets AM, the air-conditioning is on the fritz, and …”

  We both heard footsteps on the stairs. “Hey, the switch isn’t workin’?” Hugh said.

  “Oh good lord, did you break that, too? Anyone home?” Katie Lee shouted.

  Mitch pressed his fingers to his lips. “If she knows what’s going on, she’ll freak and call my sister. Promise you won’t say anything,” he whispered.

  “This switch doesn’t work, either,” Hugh said at the top of the stairs.

  “Everything’s new, maybe the wiring is jacked or a fuse blew. Rach, you around?”

  Mitch held a hand over my mouth. “Don’t answer.”

  We both noticed the glow of a lighter in the hallway grow brighter. “Well, lookie here. Are you two naked?”

  I removed Mitch’s hand from my mouth. “If our clothes were off, I wouldn’t be having a conversation with you.”

  Popping her shoulder past Hugh, Katie Lee pushed into the bedroom. “Rachael, why are the lights out? Mitch McCoy, is that you? In Rachael’s bed?”

  Hugh didn’t bother to suppress a laugh. “Come on Katie Lee, we’re interrupting.”

  True to my word, I stayed silent, which only nettled Katie Lee’s curiosity.

  “Seriously ya’ll, what’s going on?”

  “Look who decided to stop by,” I mused.

  “I spoke to Patsy two days ago and she said you were visiting her at East Carolina. Greenville is a long ways from Greensboro.”

  “Change of plans,” Mitch said.

  Folding her arms, Katie Lee moved to the center of the room while Hugh stayed in the doorway. “Is there trouble?”

  Mitch propped up on his elbows. No wanting to divulge his dilemma, I stood and walked to the window where I watched the telephone pole shadows that swept along the alley landscape of detached garages.

  “There’s no trouble. Last minute, I decided to swing by. I’m considering attending Greensboro College next year and I hadn’t seen you or Raz in ages.”

  “I saw you three weeks ago before I left for school.”

  “Come on Katie Lee. Let’s leave these two alone,” Hugh said.

  The phone in my room chirped. Being closer to the dresser than I, Katie Lee answered it.

  “Hey, yourself,” she said.

  Figures the call was for her. Katie Lee had three hobbies that consumed ninety-five percent of her time: School, Hugh, and the telephone. We all heard the raspy southern on the other end. Mitch flopped back and covered his head with a pillow.

  “Funny thing, I’m looking at your brother right now. He’s on Rachael’s bed.” There was some garbled chatter before Katie Lee held the phone up for all of us to hear. “That ass could have told me. I waited for two hours. Mom’s been calling and I fibbed. Said the bus was just late. Put him on.”

  Katie Lee held the phone at arm’s length toward Mitch. “Patsy wants a word.”

  “Tell her I’m fine. I’ll call her later,” he fired back.

  Patsy screamed from Greenville, “Mitch, get on the damn phone!”

  After dragging himself off the bed, he said, “Hey.”

  He positioned the receiver above his head. “Hey, yourself. Why the hell aren’t you here?”
r />   Even in the dark, I could feel Katie Lee laser-eye me. It was awkward, being in the middle of an inquisition and not being able to defend myself or Mitch. In between an exchange of ‘yes, no, and not sure’ phrases, Mitch eventually gave a non-answer, answer. “I don’t want to get into it.”

  Mumbling something about finding the fuse box, Hugh had slinked out into the hallway. I wished I could join him, but Katie Lee’s hand on my arm had me trapped.

  On the other end, Patsy wasn’t buying the bullshit non-answer responses Mitch gave her questions.

  Katie Lee stepped to my side and we both stood peering out the window. In a whisper, she asked, “What’s going on and why is the electricity out?”

  “Mitch just showed up. Not sure what’s up with the power. It blinked off an hour ago.”

  “Did you call the utility company?”

  Tilting my head toward Mitch, I mumbled, “Haven’t had a chance.”

  We couldn’t help but hear everything that was being said. After a minute of rapid-fire questions, Mitch relented to his sister. “There’s something goin’ around about Kelsie Kay and me.”

  “I’ve already heard the bullshit. Like you’d get near enough to her to swap spit is laughable.”

  The room went all quiet.

  Mitch ran a hand across the top of his head. “I passed out with her, once. I don’t know what did or didn’t happen.”

  “Dear Lord,” Katie Lee said.

  “I’ll do the right thing if I’m the daddy.”

  “I’m gonna kick that tramp’s ass,” Patsy spat, and we all heard her hang up, followed by dead air.

  NOTE TO SELF

  Mitch is like a fine wine. He just keeps getting better with age. Seems I’m not the only one who has taken notice.

  CHAPTER 7

  I Found Your Nose in My Business

  Well past suppertime, rush hour traffic from Greensboro to Raleigh wasn’t an issue. Beyond the city limits, the only light that occasionally beamed through the windshield came from oncoming cars. The more rural we drove, the brighter the full moon swept its magical nightglow tonic across tobacco fields we passed. For the first hour as we drove east toward New Bern, Mitch mostly stared out the passenger window. I guessed his head was full of what-ifs, and I gave him the quiet to arrange the uncertainties inside his head.

  The car reflected ahead of us in my low beams was a poop-brown Datsun. With Hugh at the wheel, it seemed oxygen intake was the only trait needed to qualify as a coconspirator in stopping whatever Patsy may or may not do to protect baby-brother. Living with Katie Lee for two years had taught me a thing or two, and the wiser, more experienced me insisted we take two cars. Hugh’s car was basically a tin can on wheels. Besides his ride being uncomfortable, my roommate, I knew, had a knack for Houdini disappearing acts. No way was I getting stranded in Katie Lee’s hometown without transportation.

  After the shit that hit the fan with the revelation that Mitch could soon be changing diapers had settled, he and Katie Lee took turns abusing the push button phone to get Patsy on the line. Based on her past run-ins and handlings of disagreeable types, there was an urgency to make sure she stayed put, and not try anything harebrained.

  Her roommate at East Carolina eventually answered, confirming what we all feared. Patsy had stormed out with her car keys and a jacket. That was all the convincing Mitch and Katie Lee needed to determine an emergency intervention was in order to roadblock Patsy from doing God-knows-what to Kelsie Kay. After stuffing overnight bags, we left a note on the refrigerator and the house in the dark.

  MITCH HAD GROWN TALLER, and his knees spilled toward the middle of my old-fashioned bench seat while his left arm draped across the back of my neck. His eyes seemed heavy with worry.

  “How well does Patsy know this Kitty Cat you’re involved with?”

  “Kelsie.”

  “Yeah. Her. I mean, do you really think your sister will do something vengeful?”

  A part of me hoped so.

  From the corner of my eye I caught sight of a grimace. “They have a history and it’s not rife with admiration.”

  Patsy McCoy was not the type of girl who gave friendship away. Letting someone in had to be earned. Once earned, you could be assured she had your back. And if you crossed her, that was cause for high drama and maybe a new ding or two in your vehicle. With a higher score to settle, I imagined her capable of a vast range of deterrents: setting something on fire, kidnapping, hog-tying, or stuffing Kelsie’s mouth full of pop rocks and threatening to add fizzy soda. Those were just a few off the top of my head guesses.

  Weighed by an enormity of uncertainty, Mitch wasn’t in a conversational mood. Navigating the exits broke up the Eddy Rabbitt and Tanya Tucker melodies that kept us company. Besides his conundrum, I had my own woes and kept a steady check on the rearview mirror. I hadn’t told Katie Lee, Hugh, or Mitch, but after hearing Liz Stein mention Jack Ray, and having spied Georgia plates in the back alley. I had a reason of my own to get out of town. The out of state plates I spied were probably coincidence, but if by some off chance, Jack Ray had set up business in town and was keeping tabs on me, I didn’t need to be a sitting duck.

  Once we exited highway seventeen, it wasn’t long before we were greeted by a sign announcing New Bern Proper. Mitch began to drum his fingertips on the plastic door rest. “Kelsie lives in town.”

  “Is she in your class?”

  “She finished high school last year.”

  “And.”

  Mitch stared at me.

  “What does she do? Work, school?”

  A corner of Mitch’s mouth twitched. “Takes classes at Mount Olive and waits tables.”

  “How did you two leave things?”

  “Raz, do we have to talk about her?”

  “Let’s see, I’ve dropped my weekend plans to drive a hundred and ninety miles to stop Patsy from doing harm to your girlfriend who claims she’s carrying a baby McCoy.”

  “For the record, she was never my girlfriend. We just hung out. Ended up at the same summer party and had too much to drink. A few weeks later she asks to have a word with me and drops the baby bomb. I couldn’t even process what she was telling me. I never thought anything happened between us.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I couldn’t form sentences. She started talking about us raising a baby together and how great we’d be. I flipped out, said I didn’t believe her. She started crying.”

  “What are our chances of finding Patsy?”

  “Greenville’s just an hour away. Patsy knows where she lives. If Kelsie’s home, Patsy could’ve been and left. But if she’s working, that may help us get to her first.”

  “And what if Patsy just went out for a beer or something?”

  “Then I guess I’ll owe you some gas money.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  His hand slid under my ponytail and he leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Thanks Raz.”

  I would’ve liked it if Mitch owed me one. But we had history and both knew that at best, the roadie wouldn’t come close to evening the scorecard, if one was keeping score.

  CROP FIELDS TURNED INTO scattered homes and businesses. At a stoplight, I pulled up next to the Datsun, whose passenger door was duct taped shut, and rolled my window down. Hugh slid his arm around Katie Lee and leaned toward the passenger window. He revved his foot on the gas. “Wanna race?”

  “Hugh,” Katie Lee scolded.

  “Just teasin’.”

  “What’s the Patsy plan?” I asked.

  “We’ll head to Kelsie’s house. You two go on to Mabel Milligan’s. If we don’t find anything, we’ll see ya over there. If more than an hour goes by, and we don’t show, we’ve run into trouble.”

  Before I’d set foot in this town, Katie Lee had told me that New Bern was a hell of a place to party. She wasn’t kidding. On more than one occasion, I’d had firsthand experience. Wisdom told me to proceed with caution when there was mention of a southerner
with a ringy rhymy name.

  “Have I met Mabel Milligan?”

  “It’s a bar,” Mitch said.

  “Oh, right.”

  A breezed rustled through the open window. The air had changed from farm-field earthy to river brine. Parting ways with Hugh and Katie Lee, Mitch advised me to turn right. In my rearview, I watched them turn left. Friday night at eleven, New Bern streets gave the illusion of sleepy, but I knew better. There were party pockets around here and Katie Lee and Mitch would lead us smack into them.

  In less than five minutes we passed Mabel Milligan’s Tavern. The gravel parking lot was at capacity and the narrow block of mishmashed strip malls and converted duplexes had more cars than spaces. On my second sweep past the bar, my car engine sputtered and I noticed the empty gas gauge. “Shit.”

  Mitch leaned over, “Luckily there’s a station.” He pointed to a lit corner whose sign read, Gas N’Biscuit, Fill Up Here.

  I parked next to a gas pump and cut the engine. The trip to New Bern was just under 200 miles. I filled up only a day ago. The West Virginia mechanics had broken more than they fixed and now the fuel gage was on the fritz. While I went inside to pay, Mitch stretched his legs and unscrewed the cap.

  Outside a foggy mist hovered under the lights that illuminated the gas station. Mitch hunched his chin against his chest and raised his shoulders in an attempt to shield himself from the marine layer than swept in where the Neuse and Trent Rivers collided. Stuffing some bills in my pocket, I told Mitch, “That was close. The filling station closes in ten minutes.”

  Nodding, he flashed a strained smile. He didn’t look forward to this Friday night in The Bern, and neither did I.

  Across the street about a block down, bodies hovered on the wraparound porch where beach music blared from the double door entrance that continuously opened and closed. “What does she look like?”

  “Long blonde hair. Curvy. Always wearin’ a pair of beat up cowgirl boots.”

  I wore flip-flops and remembered that I’d only put on mascara, like sixteen hours ago. Why didn’t I have a signature shoe? Curves? Self-consciously I glanced at my chest and pretended to pick lint off my t-shirt. Mitch’s Kitty Cat had everything I didn’t.