“You want Teddy in charge of Wears Valley?” Carol snapped.
No. No she didn’t.
“You know damn well he’ll take any opportunity to bully his way into a position of power.”
That was assuming there was any power involved in the position, but it was the idea of being “in charge.” Yes, he would. “Just for now,” Sela finally conceded. “I expect you’ll be back before you know it.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think so.” Carol grimaced and closed her eyes and hissed a low and angry “Shit!” right before Olivia returned with the cold wet towel.
Terry Morris came, carefully felt Carol’s leg, and said it was likely both of the lower leg bones were broken, but the good news was they were simple fractures and the bones weren’t out of place. The leg needed to be immobilized, though. Terry used two short pieces of plank for the splint, and Olivia sacrificed several old T-shirts that he cut up and used to tie the splints in place. Carol cursed, mostly to herself, as she was moved from the couch to her bed. She usually watched her language around Olivia, trying to be a good role model and all, but she was in a lot of pain and muzzling herself was something she thought of only after she’d said something she shouldn’t—not that she’d said, or muttered, anything Olivia hadn’t heard before. The young girl just hadn’t heard it from her.
Once she was settled, Sela went outside to talk with Mike and Terry, maybe tell them she was stepping into Carol’s position for now.
The pain pill Barb had given her had already kicked in, thank the Lord, but though she was fuzzy she still had most of her faculties. After Carol heard the front door close behind Sela, she took first Olivia’s hand and then Barb’s.
“I don’t want you two to worry too much. This is annoying, I am in a lot of pain and will be for a while, I won’t lie about that, but I’ll be fine.” Her mind began to swim a little, like it did when she’d had too much wine, which didn’t happen often enough these days. She was kind of a lightweight in the alcohol department and she had Olivia to think of, so she was extra careful when it came to booze of any kind.
“But Gran—”
She squeezed Olivia’s hand and forced a smile. “I promise you, honey, I’m going to be okay.”
Carol glanced at Barb, then, and caught her friend’s eye. “Here’s the thing, y’all. Sela should’ve been in charge of the community organization from the beginning. I’m too old, and too cranky, and let’s face it, all the good ideas were hers. She just needs a little push. If I exaggerate my disability while Sela is around, don’t be concerned.”
“Gran!” Olivia’s mouth fell open. “You want us to lie to Sela?”
“Not lie, exactly. Exaggerate,” Carol said again.
“You fell down the stairs, and your first thought is to use the accident to force Sela to do something she doesn’t want to do?” Barb asked.
“Of course not. It was my second or third thought.” One thing this crisis had taught her was to make the best of a bad situation, and that’s what she was doing now. “Maybe the fourth.”
“Your little bird needs to be pushed out of the nest.” Barb got it. She even smiled, her eyes crinkling.
The pain pill was really kicking in now. Carol closed her eyes. The entire world spun and swam. Maybe next time she’d take half a pill. That should be plenty, and they’d last longer that way.
“Sela is stronger than she knows, and yes, she needs a little push.” Carol realized she’d be walking a fine line for the next few weeks, pretending to be more feeble than she was without causing Sela to worry too much. If Sela didn’t step up, as Carol was sure she would, then when the break healed she’d get back to it.
But if Sela proved to herself and everyone else that she was capable—well. That would be the best outcome, and almost worth a broken leg.
Chapter Eleven
Jim Livingston had spent another restless night, sleeping in fits and starts. Not being able to sleep annoyed him but out of habit he rolled over easy, hoping not to wake Mary Alice. He’d had trouble sleeping since the sun storm had knocked out the power, but she hadn’t missed even one night’s sleep. She’d always been that way, sleeping through thunderstorms and worrisome times of their lives. The only time he’d known her to lose sleep was after their son Danny had died. That had led to sleepless nights, and a lot of heartbreak, for both of them. He’d gone off by himself to cry so he wouldn’t upset Mary Alice, but she always seemed to know anyway, and would hug him extra hard when he returned.
That was what kids did: they took a piece of your heart when they were born, and you never got it back. Even now, thirty-odd years after Danny died, Jim still missed him and mourned him. From time to time he grieved that Danny had never married, never had kids of his own, but then he’d been just in his twenties when he died. Jim and Mary Alice were alone, no daughter-in-law and grandchildren to love and spoil and protect, almost all of their families already gone and the ones who weren’t so distant that he didn’t know their names and wouldn’t recognize them if they came knocking. A lot of their old friends had already passed, too. Mary Alice keenly felt the lack of people who belonged to her through kin or friendship.
He’d thought a time or two that Danny was the reason Mary Alice had been so drawn to Ben Jernigan. Danny had been in the army, too. Not that Danny and Jernigan looked anything alike, and though no one seemed to know anything for certain about Jernigan it was obvious that he was a military man through and through. It was in his walk, those long ground-eating strides, the way he carried himself, and the “don’t fuck with me” look in his eyes. Both he and Danny had willingly joined the military, were willing to sacrifice their safety and comfort for others. Danny had made the ultimate sacrifice. Jernigan had survived, but carried ghosts around with him.
But Mary Alice hadn’t seen any of that, other than maybe sensing that he had a military past. She’d cottoned to him immediately, like the way she’d invited him to dinner, when they first met. Now, Mary Alice was friendly to a fault, but that was fast even for her. Look how she’d lit up when he’d stopped by. He suspected if she had her way, she’d have Jernigan moving in with them. Good thing Jernigan wasn’t likely to want to move in with two old people.
Restlessly Jim changed positions again, his thoughts moving on to what Janet had told them about Carol Allen breaking her leg yesterday. That was bad, not just that Carol was injured, but she’d been elected community leader and she had a way of getting people moving. Basically, she bulldozed them. He wondered who’d take her place. Her niece, Sela, was a sweet thing but never put herself forward; maybe the new leader would be someone else—
Creak.
Jim froze, his thoughts suddenly focused, every muscle tense. If he’d been asleep, he wouldn’t have heard the unusual noise. If the power had been on—with the heat or air running, the refrigerator humming and occasionally making that noise that Mary Alice had told him for months needed to be fixed but he’d never gotten around to doing—he wouldn’t have heard it. But the power wasn’t on, no sound, no light, and he’d definitely heard something. His heart was suddenly pounding as he went on alert.