The Lure Of White Oak Lake Part 4

Social networking sites were totally unnecessary in White Oak. One's status was automatically transmitted by the nosy hens who tended the business of everyone in town. Morgan's had just been updated to "insane at home."

"She's sitting on her deck, very unladylike, staring up at the sky," Maddie said slowly.

Jaclyn slammed her hand down on the display, sending all the baits she'd just arranged flying. "Put the binoculars away, Madeline, and leave her alone."

"Fine, I have to get back to work anyway. You stay away from that nutbag and keep Austin at a distance, too. Local nuts like Clarice we can deal with, but this one is foreign, and we don't know what to expect. She could be a killer hiding out

in-"

Jaclyn ended the call with a push of a b.u.t.ton and growled at the mess she'd made of her display.

Chapter Seven.

Morgan washed the last of her dinner dishes and set them on the rack beside the sink to dry. She went to the couch and stretched out with the remote in her hand. As she flicked through the channels, she tried to recall the last time she'd actually just watched TV and determined it was in a hotel a few years ago when she was too ill to do anything else. She wanted a movie, something she could get lost in and live vicariously through someone else's life. What she found channel after channel was news, religious programming, reality shows where people fought endlessly, and sitcoms too boring to hold her interest for a second.

Morgan had been at the cabin going on three nights and regrettably realized that she was bored out of her mind. "I can't live like this." She dropped the remote and got up. "What was I thinking? I'm gonna hyperventilate." She sat back down and put her face between her knees. "Gotta get out."

Despite the hot humid air, Morgan found it easier to breathe as she jogged down her driveway to the road. The pavement felt solid beneath her sneakers, and the sound of her steps patting steadily was all she heard aside from the insects. No horns, no booming ba.s.s, no voices could be heard in the stillness of the evening. Morgan was so out of the element she'd grown accustomed to that she felt like she was in another country or possibly on another planet. The light from The Lure was the only sign of human existence except for an occasional lit window in the houses she pa.s.sed.

Jaclyn was sweeping the floor when Morgan walked in. "Hey, I'm closed, but come on in unless you're looking for hot coffee," she said with a smile that slipped from her face. "Something wrong?"

"Anxiety attack, I think," Morgan rasped out as she clutched her chest.

Jaclyn dropped the broom. "Well, sit down." She took Morgan by the arm and led her to the tables near the coffee station. "Should I call an ambulance?"

Morgan shook her head. "I just had to get out of there-walls closing in, angry mob wives, chunky kid and dog s.h.i.+t, tiny food processors, and, oh my G.o.d, the car insurance commercials."

Jaclyn nodded knowingly. "TV overdose, how long were you watching?"

Morgan shrugged. "Ten minutes?"

"This is serious." Jaclyn looked at Morgan grimly. "I can help. Wait right here a minute."

Morgan stared at the floor feeling like a fool as Jaclyn rustled around. She looked up when Jaclyn went to the drink station and filled two large plastic cups with ice. There was a bag tucked beneath her arm. "Feel well enough to walk?"

"I think so," Morgan said as she stood.

"Follow me." Jaclyn locked the front door and switched off the main lights. Neon signs in the window illuminated the path they took out a side door of the store. After Jaclyn had locked it, she pulled a cell phone from her pocket and made a call. "Hey, sweetie, I'm going down on the pier with Morgan, call me if you need anything. Love you, too." Jaclyn smiled at Morgan. "Watch your step."

Moonlight danced on the water as Jaclyn led Morgan down the long dock behind the store. There were no chairs, and Jaclyn motioned for Morgan to join her as she sat dangling her feet above the water. "Is that bourbon?" Morgan asked as Jaclyn pulled a bottle from the bag she had carried out with her.

Jaclyn hesitated a second before opening it. "I should've asked if you drink."

"Socially," Morgan licked her lips. "Bourbon is my favorite."

"Mine too, say when." Jaclyn poured the amber liquid into one of the cups until Morgan motioned for her to stop. "Straight or Seven?"

"Seven-Up, please." Morgan listened to the fizz of the soda as Jaclyn poured, then accepted the drink gratefully. "I'm really embarra.s.sed now."

"Don't be." Jaclyn mixed her own drink. "Everybody has a bad day."

"I've had four month's worth, and I'm beginning to wonder if this is going to become the norm."

Jaclyn shook her head after she'd taken a sip from her cup. "No, as they say, 'one thing you can count on is change' or 'this too shall pa.s.s,' but when you're going through stormy seas, it's hard to adopt that att.i.tude."

Morgan looked out over the water, then into the sky as the moon peeked out from behind the trees. "I've had about as much change as I can stand."

"I know you lost your father recently. I should also tell you that anything you say in front of Betsy or Ida, it spreads like wildfire through town. They don't mean any harm, but they can't keep their beaks shut to save their lives."

"Four months ago," Morgan said with a sigh, "and after him, my job and my girlfriend. I don't even know who I am anymore, and when I wake up in the middle of the night, I'm not really sure where I'm at. It all feels like a dream I can't escape."

"That's s.h.i.+tty."

Morgan grinned. "Thank you for not saying 'sorry.' I've heard too much of that, too."

Jaclyn took a drink and said, "I understand."

"Ironically, I thought I needed change amongst all the change, so I came here, and my life feels like it has come to a screeching halt."

"Well, it has," Jaclyn said thoughtfully. "You're kind of in suspended animation."

Morgan raised her gla.s.s. "That's it exactly."

"I was very close to my grandma." Jaclyn waved a hand at the store and house sitting nearby. "All of this was hers. It became mine after she pa.s.sed away, and even though I was very busy taking care of everything, I felt like I was standing still and life was going on all around me. She took a part of me when she left, and I felt lost without it."

"How long did that last?"

Jaclyn smiled wanly. "I'm speaking in the past tense because it's gotten easier, but there's still that part that I'm lacking. Were you close to your father?"

Morgan patted her chest as she stared at the water. "In here, but I didn't see him as often as I should have. I was a product manager for a chain of grocery stores in Georgia. I managed a team of nineteen people, and we were responsible for choosing the items carried in the Menagerie Food Stores. I traveled around the state a lot, worked long hours, and there never seemed to be enough time for me to visit my family. When Dad got sick..." Morgan inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "He'd been seriously ill for a while, and we didn't know what it really was. The disease made him frail and pitiful...I couldn't bear to see him like that. The frustration on his face when he needed help to stand or the inability to even hold a fork tore my heart out, and when I should've been there more often, I stayed away." Morgan shook her head slowly. "He needed me the most then, and I let it all fall on my brother's shoulders because I was a coward."

"Was it cancer?"

Morgan shook her head. "Multiple System Atrophy, just as bad, I suppose, there's no cure for it. We thought it was Parkinson's, that was the original diagnosis. He started pa.s.sing out or having seizures whenever he stood up, so they ran more tests and found that brain tissue that controlled just about everything was dying. He hallucinated a lot and found it difficult to articulate things. He was in pain but couldn't tell us what hurt." Morgan looked down at her drink. "In the end, he couldn't even swallow, and the night he died, all we could do was stand there and watch him go."

"Did he know you were there?"

"Yes, he did. We talked to him a lot, and the hospice nurse was there keeping him pretty doped up. He'd respond to something we said with a grunt, then that stopped. When he took his last breath, the whole world seemed to stop that night."

"Where's your mother?" Jaclyn asked softly.

"She died when I was six." Morgan inhaled sharply. "He's with her now."

Jaclyn studied Morgan's profile as she gazed out at the water. "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better."

"I beat a water hose against a tree today, and surprisingly, that took the edge off for a while." Morgan shrugged and took a drink.

"I know, I heard all about it from my sister, who heard it from Betsy." Jaclyn smiled when Morgan looked at her. "You can't sneeze in this town without someone hollering 'bless you.' If you worry about what people think, you may want to have your catharsis indoors."

Morgan chuckled. "She must've thought I was insane."

"Yep," Jaclyn said and crunched a piece of ice between her teeth. "You're right up there with Clarice Minden now."

Morgan's eyes widened. "She tried to show me her b.o.o.bs in the grocery store this morning."

Jaclyn laughed. "I bet Angie ran her out of there. She does it every other week."

"Someone yelled at her, but I didn't see who it was. Would she really have flashed me?"

"Oh, yeah," Jaclyn said with a laugh. "Most of the time, she roams around her backyard naked, says it makes her feel one with nature. That's why Betsy had Harlan build that strip of fence that divides their property."

"And I thought I'd found Mayberry."

"You have, just in an alternate universe. We even have moons.h.i.+ners. Every now and then, one of the stills will explode in someone's garage or in the woods. I don't understand why they go to all that trouble, this town isn't dry. Chet says it's exciting, though."

"Chet makes moons.h.i.+ne?"

Jaclyn nodded with a grin and crunched another piece of ice. "That's why half of his teeth are missing. He got hit in the mouth with a pipe when his still exploded."

Morgan started laughing. "You're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me."

"I'm not, I swear. Look at his hands the next time you see him, he's missing a thumb. I know you noticed the scar near his mouth. He'll tell you he got that in a bar fight. People around here do all sorts of crazy s.h.i.+t like the Fall Regatta."

"What's that?"

"It's a not-boat race, and actual boats can't be used. Compet.i.tors construct a vessel without a motor that's supposed to float and try to get it across the lake to the finish line. Only three made it to the end last year, and that was a record. And they do this the weekend before Thanksgiving when the water's getting cold." Jaclyn shook her head. "I don't understand the logic, but it's pretty funny to watch."

"If I don't get a hit on my resumes, I may still be here then. I think I'd enjoy seeing that."

"You need a hobby." Jaclyn dug another piece of ice from her cup. "Collect driftwood and make planters out of the pieces or paint random objects like Clarice does. Find something that you enjoy, it'll take your mind off your worries, and time will fly by."

Morgan took a healthy swallow of her drink and began to feel a little light-headed. "That's good advice. I've noticed that you've eaten most of your ice and drank very little."

Jaclyn smiled. "No one likes to drink alone. I wanted you to be able to take the edge off and not feel self-conscious. I have a teenager who is supposed to be doing a history a.s.signment, and I need to be clearheaded when I go in and find it incomplete."

"You have responsibilities, I'm sorry for keeping you."

"My son has to learn to be responsible enough to do his homework without me hounding him. I listen to fish stories all day and town gossip until it makes my head spin. Sometimes, I need a break from everyday life, so you did me a favor, too."

Morgan looked out at the water and listened to the sounds of night birds and crickets. "It really is peaceful here. No wonder Dad liked it so much."

"I hated it when I was a teenager. I thought it was so uncool to live in the swamp. All the kids on TV lived in cities and had plenty to do, places to go. For entertainment, we'd hide out in the cornfields or the marsh and drink the beer Skip stole from his dad. Instead of going to the mall, I shot skeet and fished, but you know what I do for entertainment now? I shoot skeet and fish, and for some strange reason, I enjoy it."

"Do you still drink stolen beer in the cornfields?"

"No," Jaclyn said with a smile, "I just make sure Austin doesn't do it." She shrugged. "Now that I'm older, I know I didn't miss out on anything. I like not having to worry about locking my door, and as much as I complain about it, I feel safe that everyone is watching out for everyone else." Jaclyn crunched another piece of ice. "Maddie's probably watching us right now through her binoculars. She has a night-vision pair." Jaclyn shot her the finger just in case.

"I should get going," Morgan said as she stood. "Thanks to you and the bourbon, I feel really relaxed now." She extended a hand and helped Jaclyn to her feet.

"Should you have another anxiety attack, I'll keep this bottle beneath the counter at the store."

"I just might," Morgan said with a smile. "At least tonight, I may sleep with the lights off for a change."

Jaclyn looked toward the cabin and grinned. "You're gonna blind the racc.o.o.ns."

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h, it's working," Ida exclaimed excitedly as she stomped into Clarice's kitchen. "They were just sitting together on the pier. Clarice, brew up some more of that potion."

Betsy rubbed her hands together, then looked alarmed. "Do you think we're making it too strong? I did see Morgan beating a tree with a hose pipe."

Clarice looked over her shoulder as she filled a teapot at the sink. "I'm gonna have to make her some of my calming blend."

This gave Ida pause. "Could we have picked the wrong one? I don't want to saddle Jaclyn with a maniac. Why would anyone beat a tree?"

"The leaves are never wrong," Clarice said as she set the water to boil. "They told me that the one was coming, and Morgan showed up the next day."

"Should we put this much faith in tea leaves? It could be coincidence," Ida said.

"Not tea leaves, oak, they blow in a pattern, and I read them." Betsy and Ida stared at Clarice blankly. "Oh, come on. How the h.e.l.l does anyone make sense of tea leaves? You swallow half of 'em."

Clarice pulled a joint from her special box and lit it up. "The leaves are talking plenty right now."

"Clarice, you're acquainted with fall, aren't you?" Ida put a hand on her hip. "I've got a s.h.i.+tload of leaves on my patio, and they ain't sayin' anything to me."

Clarice waved the joint she held pinched between two fingers. "Your negativity is jamming me up."

"Please." Betsy leaned wearily against the table. "This is supposed to be fun and to help Jaclyn. Can't we keep our focus on that?"

Ida huffed but wasn't too put off to take the joint from Clarice's hand. She inhaled deeply and exhaled a lungful of smoke. "All right, tell me what the leaves say."

Clarice leveled her gaze on Betsy. "They say not to meddle. Things between Morgan and Jaclyn have to unfold as they will."

Betsy looked like a rabbit caught in a snare. "I haven't. I've barely talked to Jaclyn, and I was only going to bring Morgan a pie."