Deep in the Heart of Dixie
Chapter 5
Dixie quickly settled into her new routine at Jackson’s General. Happiness was a bubble bobbing higher with each day that went by, stretching out the time and space from what she left behind. Waking up each morning, she half expected it to burst. It called to mind the one time Mama brought her to a candy shop when she was small. They had a little spending money, a rarity, and Dixie was told to fill a tiny, brown bag with sweets. She picked all kinds but mostly her favorites, Swedish fish, and chewed on them for days. Rising early, walking to work, passing time in the peaceful quiet broken up by bursts of chatter with the regulars, felt like having that sack of candy. As for Jake hanging around, strong and steady, keeping a watch over things, well he was like the great, big lollipop Mama surprised her with back home that night. She couldn’t believe it was hers, for keeps.
Dixie was so happy, she wished the store wasn’t closed on Sundays but the Jacksons were church goers. They believed Sunday was a day of rest, meant to be spent with family, thankful for all the Lord had given. If people needed something, they could plan ahead and get it before Sunday. Dixie thought more places should go back to the old ways but couldn’t get enough of her home away from home. She felt useful, had a purpose, and wasn’t locked away in a stuffy, cramped space waiting for Owen’s next explosion of temper. She would’ve been content to spend every spare minute with the locals, soaking up their welcome, being treated like one of their own.
Most of her life had been spent hiding, the darkness broken by brief moments of light with Mama when Owen wasn’t around. School had been torture, a place where she was an outcast, painfully lonely and alone. Never rescued by the adults that were supposed to be looking out for her, no boy or girl had ever tried to be her friend either. For the first time ever, Dixie thought this flower might start to bloom with her petals turned to the sun and leaves reaching for the sky.
During her second week at work, Dixie brought up the idea of complimentary coffee for the customers, resolutely putting her coffee pot incident behind her. Jake wholeheartedly accepted her initiative and bought one of those new-fangled, single cup makers, cups, and a variety of coffees and teas. Dixie made cookies and pastries to provide a fresh-baked treat, giving the regulars something that put a spring in their step when they dropped by.
Jake beamed his approval with the increase of traffic and business in the mornings. “Daddy says I’ve got to learn to make my own decisions since I’m running this business now and one day it will be my sole responsibility. I definitely made the right decision when I hired you and accepted your advice. I’ve got to start somewhere, even if it’s with something small like coffee and sugar so, thank you, Sugar.” He gave her a wink, his honey voice dripping down and melting her insides all over again.
Dixie made a habit of delivering coffee and a pastry to the two gentlemen who laid claim to the porch rockers each morning. Jasper Stuart and Walter Washington were only too happy to oblige. The two widowers were interchangeable in plaid, button up shirts, overalls, and wide brimmed hats to hold back the glare of the morning sun. The only way one could really tell them apart was by knowing Walter sat on the left, Jasper on the right. Long flowing beards of snowy white drifted down their chests while wire-framed glasses perched on the end of sharp, pointy noses. One could believe they’d survived from the time of the Great War between the States, rocking away, reliving yesteryear.
“If I was fifty years younger, I’d have my eye on a youngin’ like you,” Jasper told Dixie, displaying a toothless grin as he accepted his daily installment of the hot brew. He took a sip and sighed appreciatively, his eyes drooping shut. “Heaven, I tell you. This tastes like a piece of heaven. You wouldn’t be interested in an older man, would you?”
Walter tugged on his friend’s arm. “Now, you listen here, Jasper, you might be a descendent of Jeb Stuart, that astounding Cavalry general, but I’m of an even older bloodline. Remember old George, our first president? That gives me seniority and first dibs so I’d be the one to lay claim to Miss Dixie.”
Dixie laughed at their daily banter, her heart fluttering at their attention. Southern charm did the trick regardless of how old the man was if he knew how to use it. “Now boys, don’t go fighting over little ol’ me. I’m sure there’s enough of me to go around and plenty other fish in the sea ready to be snapped up on your hooks .” Their good-natured laughter followed her while she swept the porch and scrubbed the windows until they gleamed. The two elders had resumed their game of checkers when Dixie headed inside to check the shelves and the books. She enjoyed organizing the shop and working with numbers in the ledger—low and behold, she was good at it.
Jake walked in whistling cheerfully at 8:30. Dixie did such a good job that he didn’t even have to come in if he didn’t want to but did anyway. It gave him a chance to spend time with her, talk to her, just look at her. The days weren’t long enough to take a drink of her sweetness. He couldn’t get enough and hoped if he was patient, she’d take down those walls around her heart and let him in.
It had only been two weeks and yet Dixie felt like she’d been in Dale’s Hollow her whole life. Jake didn’t know her secrets, she kept busy, and did her job well. She spoke shyly to her employer, taking in more than she offered. If matters turned to topics of a personal nature, she steered clear, a shadow making those incredible blue eyes turn dark. Whatever caused that shadow, Jake didn’t like it and wanted to wipe it clear away, forever, if only she’d tell him how to do it.
“Any of that coffee for me?” Jake asked, soft and low like the quiet purr of a cat when it gets its belly rubbed. Dixie could listen to that voice all day. And to look at him—it wasn’t just that he was handsome, although he was the best-looking boy she’d ever seen—but to watch someone so comfortable in his own skin, she couldn’t look away. He knew exactly who he was, where he was meant to be, and where he was headed in life. He had a close-knit network of people who cared about him and a strong family tree to hold him up. He exuded confidence. Maybe some of it was rubbing off on her.
Dixie reached under the counter and pulled out the mug she’d picked up just for him, steaming with a special blend created by experimenting with different flavors. “Here you go, sweet and light, just like you.”
Jake tipped back his head and a rich, rumble of laughter rolled over her. “You found a cup with the confederate flag? You’ve got me pegged, darlin’. Let me drink this down and then I’ve got more inventory to haul around. Just consider me the pack mule, not that I’m complaining, no mam. ‘Quityerbellyachin,’ that’s Mama’s motto and one I try to live by.” He took a few minutes more than was necessary to savor the brew and the view while Dixie worked at the shelves, bending over and giving him an eye-full of long legs and a little shake of those hips that she wasn’t even aware of doing. Jake felt the temperature rising and knew it was time to get busy so he could cool off.
The latest shipment waited outside. The delivery truck had been in first thing and left the boxes against the wall. The final stretch, lugging them inside, was up to Jake. By the time he dragged everything in, his arms and back were sore, he was ready for a tall glass of something cold, and was very thankful it was Saturday. They’d be closing up shop soon. He walked to the counter to find an ice-filled glass of Dixie’s sweet tea, the glass sweating in the heat, waiting for him. He shook his head and took the first life-restoring swallow, swiping an arm across his forehead before any drops started falling off of him. That girl could read his mind.
Dixie had rotated from stocking shelves, to caring for customers, to standing at the back window to get a glimpse of her employer. Talk about a heat wave! She’d found herself fanning herself after watching Jake’s muscles flex and the sweat dripping off of his body. Just the kind of boy the girls were falling all over in those mushy, love stories Mama loved. Just the opposite of who Mama had chosen. When he brought the last box in, she scurried to the fridge to get his
cold drink. She pressed it to her cheek for a quick cool down, set it on the counter, and took up sweeping the floor when he came inside.
Jake exhaled slowly through his nose as he watched Dixie’s body sway with the dance of the broom. A loose, red curl dangled and rested on her cheek, drawing him like a magnet. It took everything he had to stay put and keep on drinking his tea instead of touching that inviting curl. He’d give anything to be that bit of hair on her face if he could be that close to her. He cleared his throat and hoped she’d chalk up the huskiness in his voice to the heat. “Hey, Dixie…this here is the best glass of sweet tea I’ve ever had and I’ve had plenty. Who gave you the recipe?”
Dixie finished sweeping and approached the counter, filling a glass for herself and pressing an ice cube to her chest for just a moment, rubbing it up around her neck before tossing it in the trash. It sure was hot. She had no idea what she was doing to the temperature of the boy next to her. Spike his body heat much higher and he’d be down for the count. “Thelma Louise, my neighbor, told me how on my first day in my new place.” She smiled to herself, fond of her new found friend. “She’s some character. You’ll have to meet her sometime. Her peach cobbler is to die for.”
They finished their drinks, both suddenly struck shy by their awareness of each other. Dixie could not help but notice how Jake’s white t-shirt and jeans hugged his body close, showing off all of the right places. Jake found himself breathing in deeply of the fresh breeze that was Dixie in her pretty sundress with daisies. The uncomfortable silence might have stretched on indefinitely when Jake glanced up at the clock and was relieved to see it was nearly closing time. “So, what are you up to this afternoon, sugar gal?”
Dixie welcomed a topic to discuss even though she had nothing exciting to share. “Oh, nothing much…I’ll hang some laundry on the line, fiddle with my patch of a garden—it’s my first one. That’s about it. How about you?”
Jake pushed away from the counter, his habitual smile lighting the way. “I am going to play ball on our local team, the Dale’s Hollow Diggers. We’re up against the Gerrardstown Bulldogs. The excitement is sure to be staggering. What do you say to coming along or is your laundry a more appealing option?”
Dixie laughed as she took their glasses to the bathroom sink, busying herself to cover her sudden blush and fluster. She could feel her heart tripping and a mess of butterflies fluttering around deep down in her belly. Jake had asked her to a game! Was this her first date?
“Oh Dixie darling, you’re leaving me hanging. What do you say?” Jake called from the counter, his own heart picking up its pace in anticipation. This just might be his first date with the mysterious Northern girl that had blown into his life and made the old and tired seem brand new.
Dixie splashed water on her face and looked her reflection in the eye before nodding. “Okay, I’ll come. But if my laundry gets out of control or my plants die, I’m holding you responsible.” She walked back out into the shop where Jake waited for her, holding the door wide open.
He tipped his head, and she nearly saw that invisible hat again. “It’s a burden I am willing to bear if I can have your dazzling company.” He took Dixie’s elbow and escorted her outside, leaving her to wait patiently in one of the rockers while he checked every door and made sure all was as it should be. He took every aspect of the shop seriously, including locking up. “All right, sugar gal. We are all set. Let’s go—the field’s not too far.”
They poked along the back country road, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. There was no need to move fast what with the heat rolling over them and holding them down. The temperature was a ready excuse but Dixie was glad for any reason to spend more time with Jake. Listening to the drone of the cicadas in the trees, sliding their eyes sideways trying to sneak a peek of the body by their side, hands dangling closer to one another with each step. Jake finally caught Dixie’s fingers in an off-hand way and set her heart to tripping. Funny. Most of her life, she’d turned tail when any boy came near in school yet all she wanted to do was get closer to Jake. There was something to be said for Southern charm.“Thank you so much for inviting me. This will be my first live ball game. I’ve only seen them on TV before,” Dixie babbled eagerly, distracted by his skin on hers. She failed to mention that Owen was glued to every game and expected to be waited on hand and foot. She’d been backhanded many times during one of those nightly games if she wasn’t fast enough with a beer or forgot the chips. She stomped on those dark memories, refusing to let Owen ruin this moment.
Jake stopped dead, a look of pure amazement on his face. “You’ve never gone to a ball game? Didn’t they play ball in your hometown up North? If not, you Yankees are definitely deprived even though you do have the Yankees ball team. They’re not half bad but I’ll take a game with some good ol’ country boys any day.”
Dixie couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm about America’s favorite pastime. “We had a ball team, I just never went to go see it. We didn’t have much money for a paying game and I couldn’t go to the school games because I had to help out at home.” She nearly bit her tongue. What had possessed her to rattle on about all of that? Next thing, she’d let slip the fact that Owen didn’t let her out of the house except to go to school which was plain unnatural. Jake would think she was a freak or take pity on her and she didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for her. She’d wasted enough time wallowing herself.
Jake had just been given a little glimpse of Dixie’s previous life and wasn’t happy about what he saw or the way she clammed up all of the sudden, her eyes sliding away from his. He nudged her shoulder with his own and gave her his infectious grin. “Well, you’ll get your fill today. I’ll make sure you get a front row seat.” True to his word, Jake installed her on the bottom bleacher with a large soda and a bucket of popcorn, making her feel utterly spoiled for the first time in her life.
Dixie sat back and let herself get caught up in the camaraderie of Jake and his team mates. There was the easy give and take of being friends since childhood. They all made a point of introducing themselves during warm up, several telling Jake they’d be next in line if ever Dixie changed her mind. She found herself blushing again and figured she’d better get used to it. The stands soon filled with kids home on spring break and families out for the day.
The soda was cold and the salty popcorn dripped with butter. She dipped her hand in again and again, even when she was full. The last time she had the fresh popped treat had been at a small, traveling circus when she was very young, in the time before Owen. It was a memory she only took a peek at every now and then, one that she cherished because it was a bright spot with Mama. Today, she made a new memory, sure to shine each time she pulled it out.
The game passed all too quickly. Dixie had been watching a slow, lazy drift of clouds overhead when Jake came up to the plate. He gave her a wink and took his batter’s stance, concentrating on the pitcher. The ball sailed over the plate and there was the loud crack of the bat as Jake’s arms snapped forward, hitting a homer. Dixie was on her feet, whistling and cheering, watching him make the dust fly on his way around the diamond. She might as well have been at the World Series with the way her heart was hammering with excitement. She made a big show of jumping up and down, clapping her hands when Jake crossed home plate, only to sink down in her seat, self-conscious because nobody else lost control of themselves. She didn’t care. When Jake looked her way again, she blew him a kiss.
The game closed with a victory for the Diggers. The Bulldogs were good sports but insisted they’d get them the next time. Jake visited with his friends for a while then turned to the empty bleachers to see Dixie, patiently waiting for him. His heart swelled at the sight of her. He’d been afraid she would slip out like Cinderella at the ball. “How did you like the game?” He dropped down next to her on the bleachers, stretching out his long, lean form and resting his elbows on the
seat behind them.
Dixie passed the salty treat his way and followed his lead, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Tilting her head his way, her face lit with her smile. Her eyes were shining so bright, she was giving the sun some competition. “It was so much fun! I wish I knew how to play.”
Jake put a hand to his heart and tipped over, off the bleacher, in an untidy sprawl on the ground. “Did I hear you correctly? You don’t know how to play?! Oh, this won’t do. Get on out here, sugar gal. You’re having your first lesson today, with as many as it takes after to get it down right. Baseball is an American institution, like apple pie. Every warm blooded body needs to know what to do with a ball and a bat.”
Dixie followed him out onto the field. They started with a simple toss, back and forth, back and forth before Jake let her try a pitch. “Let me get on home plate. Okay, look for the sweet spot, over the plate, about the level of my waist and bring it on home, darlin’.”
She pulled her arm back and let it fly as hard as she could. There was the resounding crack of the bat and Jake hit the ball far out into the field. He pushed his ball cap back on his head and whistled, long and low. “Whooee, you have got some arm! You’re a natural, sugar. We might need you to be a substitute pitcher. Want to try batting?”
Dixie was game for anything that gave her more time with Jake. She stood at the plate and hefted the bat. Jake stood back and gave her advice. “Put your hands together on the grip and bring your elbow up…no, not quite. You’re choking up. Let me show you, sugar gal.” He came up behind her and brought his arms around her, positioning her arms in the right place. Their awareness from earlier in the day returned, full force. Dixie could feel herself beginning to tremble while Jake’s arms tightened on hers. “Now follow through, honey.”
They swung the bat together. “Nice, that was real nice. You’re getting the hang of it.” Jake’s voice was hoarse. His arms were still wrapped around her. He couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.
Dixie nodded. “It was really nice.” The bat slipped from her fingers. Jake turned her around, his hands cradling her face while her empty arms were filled by his warm, solid body. She thought she might get lost in the forest in those eyes. It wouldn’t be a bad place to be caught wandering for a long while.
Jake dipped down and set his lips on hers, testing the waters then diving deeper. Time slowed to a stop until there was only the two of them and this kiss. They finally broke apart to come up for air, forehead to forehead. “That was even better than baseball,” Jake whispered. He swallowed hard and roped in his pulse. He was his mama’s son and had to mind his manners. Dixie could only nod. It was her first kiss.
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Owen tore apart the house, leaving a path of destruction behind him and not caring. He yanked clothes out of Laura’s closet and threw them on the floor. He reached up on the top shelves and knocked everything down. He pulled all of the dresser drawers out and dumped them. He repeated the process in Jamie’s bedroom, the hall closet, the kitchen drawers, the attic, and the basement.
Nothing—there was no sign of where the girl went, no pieces left of his wife’s past. It was as if nothing existed outside of Laura’s time in this house. He roared in frustration and hurled dishes at the wall, shattering them all until none were left. Finding that good for nothing was impossible—she could be anywhere.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guest book from the funeral. He grabbed it and flipped through the pages, looking for a lead. None of the people who knew him would be of any help but there had been a few old friends of Laura’s. His finger stopped on one name—Mary Adams of Georgia, a childhood friend. He remembered her rambling on about all the good times they shared when they were little girls. Maybe she would be able to give him a connection to Laura’s history. Long ago, in their brief courtship, Laura had babbled on about summers down South with her grandmother. He could have cared less and didn’t pay attention. Once he moved in, she shut down about anything that happened before because Owen wasn’t interested in truly knowing her and it was too painful to remember what her life used to be, would never be with him. Owen wished he’d paid attention to the few bits and pieces she had shared but it was too late now.
The funeral visitor might hold the answer he was looking for. He picked up the phone then ripped it out of the wall; it had been disconnected. Spinning around, hands tearing at his hair, he caught sight of the coffee can where Laura kept spare change. There was enough for a few phone calls. He stepped out into the pouring rain that mirrored the mood he was in and walked to the convenience store to use a pay phone. His anger flamed higher and he cursed Jamie’s name every step of the way for reducing him to this state.