Centerville

Chapter 3

30 Chapter 3 Ablock from the drugstore, Elizabeth Greenly was lifting her three-year-old daughter, Izzy, into the backseat of her car. The car was a new, dark-blue Oldsmobile station wagon with a silver luggage rack on top and an optional third seat in the back that her husband, Carlton, had recently bought for her. For several years after he’d taken the drugstore over from his father, the business had struggled, but now it was doing well enough that they could afford a second car. She had picked the station wagon out off the showroom floor, and Carlton had signed the papers agreeing to the terms of the loan. Then she had driven it home, and he had followed behind in their old sedan. Now she didn’t have to drive him to the drugstore early in the morning just so that she could have a car, and they had a larger vehicle to take on vacations. She wanted to drive south this year during the kids’ spring break and stay in one of those small cottages on the coast of Florida, the kind tucked among a few palm trees next to the water, so that she could walk out the door and look at the ocean and feel as though she was at the edge of something enormous. Years earlier, before any of their children were born, she and Carlton had made that trip to Florida. It had reminded her of the northern coast where she’d grown up, except that Florida was 31 a softer, warmer version. After just a few hours, the sound of the waves breaking against the sandy shore had become the only thing inside her head. “Nine days, that’s all it would take,” she’d told Carlton a few nights ago after supper when they were sitting alone at the table. “Two days to drive there, two days to drive back, and five days that we could spend on the beach. You can be away from the store for nine days. Your father could look in on things, and Al Freeman could take over as general manager. We haven’t taken a vacation in six years.” “Responsibility comes with ownership,” he’d replied doubtfully, as if owning something made you less able to do what you wanted. Now, as she slid into place behind the steering wheel, she inhaled the smell of the new upholstery and heard the crackle of the vinyl. Her hair was pulled back with an elastic band, and she wore comfortable shorts and a sleeveless shirt. She’d gained weight since this last pregnancy, and the seat belt rode up against her abdomen. Behind her, Izzy leaned forward over the back seat and slipped her hands around her mother’s shoulders. “Mommy, I’m a kitty,” she purred into her mother’s ear. Elizabeth reached back and rubbed her daughter’s soft head. The blond hair that fell to Izzy’s shoulders was straight and as easy to tangle as the silk on a corncob. “All right, kitty, sit back in the seat and buckle your seat belt. Do kitties know how to do that?” she said. “Hmm hmm,” her daughter hummed into her ear. Then she felt Izzy slide away and heard the reassuring click of the seat belt. It was another reason she had wanted the new car. Their other car only had seat belts in the front seat. Now, if there was an accident, the entire family had protection. “Meow,” Izzy murmured. “Pet me.” “Not right now, Izzy. Mommy has to drive.” Elizabeth peered 32 through the windshield as she started the car, squinting from the glare. The station wagon hadn’t come with air-conditioning, but the dealer had said he could install it under the dashboard. She’d told Carlton she didn’t need the air-conditioning, but now in the sweltering heat, she was reconsidering. Earlier, when she was inside the post office talking with Janice Fitzpatrick, she’d heard what she thought was thunder. Two of the boxes stacked behind Janice awaiting pick-up had fallen, and the overhead lights had blinked and trembled. Since then, there had been the sound of sirens. “We’re supposed to get a doozy of a storm,” Janice Fitzpatrick had said. “I heard about it on the radio. They said we could get as much as six inches of rain. And...