Piper felt her eyebrows shoot up. “Your boys would do that?”
“As a joke, yes. Boys are wonderful. And disgusting. But I asked them, and they didn’t know anything about it. I thought about calling the police, but I wasn’t sure if it was serious enough, and then with everything else going on, it kind of moved to the back burner.”
Rosamund’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been finding ... dead things ... on my welcome mat.”
“What kind of dead things?” Piper asked, leaning forward.
“Two or three mice. A frog. And last week, a squirrel. I thought it was our cat ... but maybe it’s not?”
Piper sighed. “Okay. I need to think about this. Do you want to keep reading?”
“Yes,” Kiersten said. “I feel like Dottie’s trying to tell us something. Something important.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Dottie
August 25, 1965
Stunning reversal. Dickie apologized. He actually cried. He told me he’s so sorry for the way he’s behaved and treated me. He says he loves me, and he doesn’t want a divorce. He said he wants a chance to make it up to me. He said I just need more help around the house.
And he’s right. I’m still exhausted and kind of ... foggy inside my head, with an upset stomach and no energy at all.
He says he’s going to bring someone in to do all the housework and cooking so I can rest and recover.
I’m surprised to find that I believe him. He seems so genuine, so contrite. I don’twantto believe him. But Idobelieve him. And I’m so tired. The idea of leaving, fighting him in a divorce court, disappointing Daddy,dealing with the scandal, it makes me exhausted just thinking about it.
Maybe he really can change. And if he’s willing to try, I’m willing to stick around awhile longer and see what happens.
He’s even willing to let me work in the garage if that will help me “get over” my grief.
I’ll never get over the loss of the babies, or my inability to have more. But I guess it would give me a reason to get out of bed in the morning. So Oscar is dropping off a ’57 Chevy with a bad engine.
In exchange, Dickie has asked me to stay close to home and not tell anyone about the miscarriage until I get my strength back. He’s afraid I’ll burst into tears at the grocery store and embarrass myself. Which is true. I cry all the time. I’m in no shape to be out in public.
And I’m not ready to tell anyone about the babies. Especially Daddy. He’ll be crushed when he finds out he’ll never be a grandfather. I’m happy to stick my head under the hood of a car and delay those conversations with Ruby and my father and the neighbors and everyone else for as long as possible.
August 28, 1965
Oscar and Glen towed the old Chevy into the garage today and put it next to the space where Dickie parks his car.
Dickie asked me to wear one of the baggy maternity dresses hanging in my closet, to hide the fact that I’m not pregnant anymore. I burst into tears when I put it on, but seeing the guys again chased the blues away for a couple hours.
They brought me a whole chest of tools. It’s almost as good as the garage down at the dealership, but this one is better because it’s mine, right here, to use any time I want.
“Anything new at the garage?” We leaned against the car drinking iced tea after they set up the work bench and helped me hang all my tools on the wall.
“Well,” Glen took a sip of tea. “Leonard threw out his back last week putting in a new tail pipe. Otherwise it’s the same old, same old. Still trying to find someone who can replace Danny ...”
His voice trailed off and a hush settled over the garage at the mention of Danny’s name.
“But that’s easier said than done,” Oscar muttered in a low voice, almost to himself.
I rested my hand on his arm and swallowed the grief clogging my throat. “Some people can’t be replaced.”
Oscar nodded, then gave me a small smile. “We just miss him, is all ... and good mechanics are hard to find. Too bad you’re not a man, Dottie ... before you got in the family way, we could’ve trained you up to take his place.”
A vision flashed across my mind, accompanied by an intense longing, an almost physical pain. An image of a future where I could be a mechanic. Where I could be anything I want ... even though I’m female.
