Shaking the Sugar Tree Part 43

He was fl.u.s.tered.

"So we're having problems and the first thing you do is go have s.e.x with someone?" he inquired angrily.

"It wasn't like that."

"You should have told me about him. When I sleep with you, I'm sleeping with every other person you've ever slept with. I have a right to know, Wiley. I would never lie to you about something like that. And the South has a very high AIDS infection rate."

He was getting increasingly agitated, whether because he was genuinely upset or needed some pharmaceutical help, I could not tell.

"I think I should go," he said.

"Okay," I said quietly.

He grabbed his keys off the counter and left without saying good-bye.

What's wrong? Noah asked. Noah asked.

Nothing, I signed. I signed.

Are you fighting again?

Don't worry about it.

Don't treat me like a baby!

Sorry.

So?

So... what?

Is he going to leave us like Mom did?

Don't be crazy.

Is he?

No.

Then what happened?

We had a little argument.

He didn't say good-bye to me.

I'm sorry.

That wasn't nice, he said. he said.

No, it wasn't, I agreed. I agreed. Let's wash the dishes. Let's wash the dishes.

Do I have to help?

I thought you weren't a baby anymore.

I'm not! I'm almost ten!

Come on, old man. Help me wash the dishes.

He frowned.

62) It's my birthday

NOAH WOKE WOKE me the following morning. me the following morning.

It's my birthday! he announced. he announced.

Happy birthday, I said. I said.

And you're going to be late for work, he added, tapping his wrist.

"Come here," I said, gesturing with my hands. I kissed him on the cheek, pushed hair out of his eyes.

Are you ready for your birthday party?

He nodded happily.

I tried to get the day off from work but my boss wouldn't let me.

That's okay, Daddy.

I wanted to spend the whole day with you.

It's okay. Mrs. H. made a cake for me and K. We're going to have a party.

I'll be home by 2:15 and we'll leave right away and go to Memaw's house.

Is J. going to be at my party?

I hope so, I admitted, thinking he probably wouldn't be. I admitted, thinking he probably wouldn't be.

I continued to look at him.

I felt something like a lump in my throat. When he was born, the doctor said the chances of Noah living to be ten were virtually nonexistent, that I was not to get my hopes up. And now, here he was....

What's wrong, Daddy?

I never thought I'd see this day, I said, knowing he couldn't understand but needing to say it. I said, knowing he couldn't understand but needing to say it. You're getting so old. You're getting so old.

Not as old as you!

I'm so proud of you, I said. I said. And I love you so much. And I love you so much.

I was rewarded with a hug.

63) Coupon n.a.z.is

CUSTOMERS WERE WERE merciless that day in their quest for hot dogs, hamburgers, buns, chips, soda, steaks, charcoal, beer, popcorn, pizza, bottled water, cigarettes, paper plates, plastic spoons, potato salads, and anything else that wasn't nailed down. Half of Tupelo was in that store during my shift, and it felt like each and every one of them went through my line and took their sweet, b.l.o.o.d.y time. You'd think they would have stocked up beforehand, but no. merciless that day in their quest for hot dogs, hamburgers, buns, chips, soda, steaks, charcoal, beer, popcorn, pizza, bottled water, cigarettes, paper plates, plastic spoons, potato salads, and anything else that wasn't nailed down. Half of Tupelo was in that store during my shift, and it felt like each and every one of them went through my line and took their sweet, b.l.o.o.d.y time. You'd think they would have stocked up beforehand, but no.

"Kinda busy," Mr. Owen observed as he waddled past the express lane where I'd been posted.

Getting your minimum wage's worth, aren't you, you double-wide p.e.c.k.e.rwood? was on the tip of my tongue. was on the tip of my tongue.

Making matters worse was the fact that Becky hadn't shown up, so we were short a cashier. Tyrone was also missing in action. Mr. Owen himself was forced to open up a register and serve customers, which was a decidedly odd sight. No doubt it was frustrating for him since he couldn't simply stare down the scanner with those famous pig eyes and force the items to scan themselves.

Adding to the general misery was the fact that Thursday was double-coupon day and the coupon n.a.z.is were out in force, thrusting fistfuls of coupons into my hands every time I turned around as if it weren't a public holiday. If you want to make a cashier cry, hand him a hundred coupons and a tissue, then stand there and pretend like you're not a huge pain in the a.s.s. Surely a barium enema would be less painful.

One hour into my shift and I was in a foul mood.

Two hours and I was ready to douse myself with charcoal lighter and set myself on fire where I stood as a protest against minimum wage h.e.l.l.

Three hours came and went and still I didn't get my break.

Then I looked up and Jackson Ledbetter was standing there.

"You again," I said.

I could not disguise my anger.

"Don't you have baby p.i.s.s to wipe up or something?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "Got the day off. You?"

"Bite me," I said.

He grinned as I started to run his items through my scanner: a soda, an expensive ham-and-cheese sandwich from the deli, a small packet of British-style potato chips. All very hoity-toity.

I wanted to cry. I was so mad at myself, so mad at him, so mad at my job.

"How are you, Wiley Cantrell?" he asked.

"I've been rode hard and put up wet," I said.

"I'll take that to mean you're having a wonderful day."

"That's Southern for kiss my white a.s.s," I explained in a whisper, hoping none of my coworkers could hear me cursing in front of a customer.

"Charming," he replied with a big smile. "I came to buy you lunch. Which I just did. How much do I owe you?"

"You don't have to do that."

"I know," he said. "But I want to."

"I don't need your charity."

"Is that what it is? I thought I was buying my boyfriend lunch because he's busy and it's a holiday. Silly me."

"I thought we were in the middle of a big fight."

He handed me the bag of items I had just bagged for him. Only then did it dawn on me that he'd bought that for my lunch, had bought nothing for himself, had stopped only to do that for me.

"Enjoy," he said. "Pick you up at two thirty?"

"Sure," I said.

Then he was gone.

"He seems nice," the lady next in line observed, sliding into my line of vision.

She was a middle-aged woman, well-dressed, a downtown office worker, lawyer, manager, teacher, professional type with streaky bangs.

"He is," I said, feeling rather proud of myself.

"Wish my my husband would bring me lunch once in a while," she said with a smile. husband would bring me lunch once in a while," she said with a smile.

I ran her sushi and Evian water through the scanner.

"Do you guys have any kids?" she asked.

"We have one," I found myself saying, and I really liked the way it sounded.

"I think that's so sweet," she said.

"I've already told him I want eight or nine," I said.

"Oh, my!"