glanced down and stepped back to the other side of the counter.
“And the girls? Isabella must be, what? Six by now?”
“Seven. She’s almost finished first grade. And Holly’s six.”
“I can’t believe it. I guess I expected nothing would change while I was gone.”
Deanna pushed up the sleeves of her lightweight cardigan and pressed a sequence of buttons on the cash register. “Most things are the same. We’re all just a little older.” When I didn’t respond, she looked up and caught me staring at her left arm. It was covered in bruises.
“What on earth happened to your arm?”
She pushed the sleeves on her sweater back down and focused on the cash register. “Oh, that’s nothing. I’m so clumsy sometimes. I accidentally slammed it in the car door when I was carrying the groceries in.” Her face bloomed crimson.
I tried to visualize how that scenario might be possible and came up empty. “Deanna?”
She wouldn’t look at me. “I’m fine, really.”
I’ve spoken to too many abused women not to recognize the marks made when a man grips your forearm way too tight and jerks you around. But I also knew if she didn’t want to talk about it, I would only alienate her by pursuing it. “Well,” I said, in a tone as light as I could manage, “if that car ever attacks you again, just remember, I’m trained in martial arts. Also, I carry a gun.”
Deanna laughed, so I did, too.
I pulled out a business card and laid it on the counter. “Just in case you ever need my cell phone number. It’s a Greenville area code.”
“I’ll need this to call you up so we can have lunch, won’t I?”
I glanced at the floor. A palmetto bug—a roach on steroids—crawled along the edge of the counter. “Eeew.” I made a face. “I haven’t missed those things.”
Deanna leaned over the counter and looked. “Oh my stars. We have got to call an exterminator. I’d better do it now, while I’m thinking about it. I saw a rat day before yesterday. Adam will have a fit. I’ll just be a minute.” She walked towards the office in the back of the store.
I followed, pretty sure that was not her intention.
Deanna glanced over her shoulder and smiled uncertainly. She stepped into the office and slipped behind the desk. For a moment we stood on opposite sides of the desk looking at each other. Her shoulders rose and fell.
She motioned me into a chair. “Adam didn’t like the folks that did it last time. He said they charged too much, but I can’t remember which company that was.” She flipped through the Rolodex. “That’s odd. There are two exterminators in here.” She held one of the cards, frowned at it, and then flipped it forward, then back. “Bugs-R-Us is the company from Charleston that Adam said was too expensive. This card just says ‘Exterminator,’ and lists a phone number. I guess he found someone he wanted to try.”
She pressed the speakerphone button and dialed. While we listened to the brrrrrrs, Deanna busied herself straightening the desk.
“Yeah.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded neither courteous nor professional.
“Hello,” she said, in a businesslike tone. “Is this the exterminator?”
“Who’s this?” The male voice was low and hoarse.
We looked at each other. What were exterminators supposed to sound like?
“This is Mrs. Adam Devlin, from Island Hardware, here in Stella Maris?”
“Ah…yeah, Miz Devlin, what can I do for you?” He sounded confused.
“My husband may have spoken with you before, I’m not sure. But I have a problem here in the hardware store that requires your assistance.”
“You want to hire me?”
“Well, yes.” She stiffened. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He laughed. “No ma’am. None whatsoever.”
Deanna gave me a can-you-believe-this-guy look. “Did my husband agree with you on a price?”
“Yeah. We agreed on a price.”
“Well, I’d like this taken care of as soon as possible. I don’t want to
“And the girls? Isabella must be, what? Six by now?”
“Seven. She’s almost finished first grade. And Holly’s six.”
“I can’t believe it. I guess I expected nothing would change while I was gone.”
Deanna pushed up the sleeves of her lightweight cardigan and pressed a sequence of buttons on the cash register. “Most things are the same. We’re all just a little older.” When I didn’t respond, she looked up and caught me staring at her left arm. It was covered in bruises.
“What on earth happened to your arm?”
She pushed the sleeves on her sweater back down and focused on the cash register. “Oh, that’s nothing. I’m so clumsy sometimes. I accidentally slammed it in the car door when I was carrying the groceries in.” Her face bloomed crimson.
I tried to visualize how that scenario might be possible and came up empty. “Deanna?”
She wouldn’t look at me. “I’m fine, really.”
I’ve spoken to too many abused women not to recognize the marks made when a man grips your forearm way too tight and jerks you around. But I also knew if she didn’t want to talk about it, I would only alienate her by pursuing it. “Well,” I said, in a tone as light as I could manage, “if that car ever attacks you again, just remember, I’m trained in martial arts. Also, I carry a gun.”
Deanna laughed, so I did, too.
I pulled out a business card and laid it on the counter. “Just in case you ever need my cell phone number. It’s a Greenville area code.”
“I’ll need this to call you up so we can have lunch, won’t I?”
I glanced at the floor. A palmetto bug—a roach on steroids—crawled along the edge of the counter. “Eeew.” I made a face. “I haven’t missed those things.”
Deanna leaned over the counter and looked. “Oh my stars. We have got to call an exterminator. I’d better do it now, while I’m thinking about it. I saw a rat day before yesterday. Adam will have a fit. I’ll just be a minute.” She walked towards the office in the back of the store.
I followed, pretty sure that was not her intention.
Deanna glanced over her shoulder and smiled uncertainly. She stepped into the office and slipped behind the desk. For a moment we stood on opposite sides of the desk looking at each other. Her shoulders rose and fell.
She motioned me into a chair. “Adam didn’t like the folks that did it last time. He said they charged too much, but I can’t remember which company that was.” She flipped through the Rolodex. “That’s odd. There are two exterminators in here.” She held one of the cards, frowned at it, and then flipped it forward, then back. “Bugs-R-Us is the company from Charleston that Adam said was too expensive. This card just says ‘Exterminator,’ and lists a phone number. I guess he found someone he wanted to try.”
She pressed the speakerphone button and dialed. While we listened to the brrrrrrs, Deanna busied herself straightening the desk.
“Yeah.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded neither courteous nor professional.
“Hello,” she said, in a businesslike tone. “Is this the exterminator?”
“Who’s this?” The male voice was low and hoarse.
We looked at each other. What were exterminators supposed to sound like?
“This is Mrs. Adam Devlin, from Island Hardware, here in Stella Maris?”
“Ah…yeah, Miz Devlin, what can I do for you?” He sounded confused.
“My husband may have spoken with you before, I’m not sure. But I have a problem here in the hardware store that requires your assistance.”
“You want to hire me?”
“Well, yes.” She stiffened. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He laughed. “No ma’am. None whatsoever.”
Deanna gave me a can-you-believe-this-guy look. “Did my husband agree with you on a price?”
“Yeah. We agreed on a price.”
“Well, I’d like this taken care of as soon as possible. I don’t want to
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