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But still.
“We’re not friends, Mom,” I corrected, focused on removing an apple peel in one long strip. “Haven’t been for years. And he’s not Junior anymore. He’s Charlie.”
It wasn’t until I’d finished peeling my apple and looked up that I noticed the whole room had gone quiet and all three women were staring at me.
“What?” I demanded.
“My stars,” Selma whispered again. “You got it bad for the Nutter.”
“No! What? No. Didn’t you hear me say we weren’t friends? Because we’re not.” My face joined the oven on its preheat cycle, and I imagined it was as red as the apple skins I was peeling.
“Oh, Hunter.” My mother’s smile was a soft and melty thing. “Isn’t that wonderful? After all these years, you and Junior—”
“Charlie, and no.” I drew a circle in the air around her face. “Whatever you’re thinking here, you’re wrong. Remember how he doesn’t live here anymore? Remember how he left? Remember how he… he stole…”
I couldn’t finish this statement, even to make a point. I wasn’t sure I believed it myself anymore.
“Stole, did you say?” Aunt Selma pursed her lips. “Well, now, if the boy’s a criminal, that’s a different story. We should probably let the sheriff know. Wouldn’t be the first time a Nutter broke the law around here. Remember when Eulalia Nutter got caught in the ten-items-or-less line with no fewer than thirteen items on the belt?”
My mother swatted my ass with the back of a wooden spoon. “Stop spreading rumors.” To Selma, she added, “Ignore him. He’s talking about the turkeynapping from way back when.”
“Oh, that.” Selma sat back in her seat and waved a hand as though this was no big deal.
“Hey, now. It was pretty important to me,” I said, all offended dignity. “At the time.”
“Boy, you must be the only turkey in town who didn’t realize he took your bird ’cause he was sweet on you,” Selma explained. “Charlton wanted to get your attention.”
To my shock, my mother nodded.
“M-my attention?” I sputtered. “How the heck did you figure that? You don’t hurt and betray someone you’re sweet on. And you said maybe he’d got above his raisin’ like his daddy,” I accused my mother. “You said that.”
“Baby, you were so upset about Dolly Parton I’d have told you aliens abducted the boy if I thought it would lift your spirits.” My mom rolled her eyes. “Figures the one time in your entire life you listened to me was that moment.”
My dad wandered into the kitchen and pecked a kiss on Mom’s cheek before stealing one of my apple slices. “Tell me he’s not talking about that turkey.”
My mom made a face, and my dad sighed. “Bud.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Get over it, I beg you. Dolly was missing half a day, and he went on to live a fine life until just a few years ago.”
“A spoiled rotten life,” my mom said fondly. “If I didn’t give him dinner scraps, he’d chase me back into the house.”
We took an unspoken moment of silence for the memory of Dolly Parton.
“He was a good bird,” I said on a sigh.
Dad took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. “Son, tough talk incoming. How’d you like it if I still brought up the time you lost your drawers in Bull Lake and clung to the dock until I came in and retrieved them for you?”
My preheating oven face was ready to broil. “That bathing suit was too big.” I stuck my chin in the air. “And I’d have gotten them myself if I’d been able to swim then.”
“Uh-huh. But would you like it if I brought up something that happened when you were, what? Ten?”
“Charlie was fourteen when he took Dolly.”
“And my point stands,” Dad said. “Figure out why this incident is still stuck in your craw, and move on.” He squeezed my shoulders before letting go to clap his hands. “Now, I’m going to need to test someone’s dessert before tomorrow on the off chance you’re trying to poison the rest of us. Who has a sample for me?”
As everyone fought off his attempts to sneak a sweet treat, I thought about my dad’s words.
Why had it stuck in my craw?
I remembered the moment when I’d realized Dolly was missing. Remembered wishing Junior was there because he was the most understanding person I knew. When he had come by, carrying Dolly gently in a pillowcase, I hadn’t understood at first… and then I had. I’d shouted at him, demanded an explanation, but he’d just stood there looking guilty, his mouth opening and closing like he’d forgotten how to speak, dragging his toe over the dirt out by the barn. He’d run away from my house, and later the town, without ever giving me the explanation I’d wanted. That I’d deserved.
