Page 89 of The Breakdown
Vaughn put her phone away and pulled on the gate. It swung haphazardly and squeaked in protest.
“I understand the cameras,” Vaughn said. “But did they really have to destroy the gate too?”
June kicked at the dirt. “Come on, let’s get back to the house. You need to get off your feet.”
“Getting me off my feet ain’t gonna do anybody any good.”
“It’ll do you good. Now come on.”
June helped her walk back to the Gator where they both climbed in. June drove the long way back to the house so they could check the fence line for possible damage. Thankfully, they found nothing else amiss.
June pulled to a stop in front of the house, but Vaughn didn’t move to get out. “We need to check the horses,” she said.
“Natalie and Vivian already did, remember? They did that right away.”
“I want to see for myself.”
“Vaughn, they’re fine.”
“Gram, you either drive me over there or I walk.”
June sighed. “Child, I don’t know who you’re gonna kill first. You or me.” She drove the Gator over to the stables and climbed out to help Vaughn inside. They checked each stall, made sure each horse was okay before June could talk her back outside and get her back to the house. Once there, Vivian helped June get Vaughn onto the couch, boots off, and an ice pack secured at her lower back. June then handed her the remote control.
“What’s this for?” Vaughn asked.
“The television, what else?”
Vaughn tossed it aside.
“You gonna pout all day?”
“Maybe.”
“Lord help us all, Vaughn’s pouting.” June walked away as Vivian passed her with a mug of black coffee for Vaughn. “Careful, she’s being difficult,” June said. She entered the kitchen, switched on the oven to preheat, and pulled her bowl of flour out from under the sink for biscuits. She got the milk, poured some in the bowl, opened the container of Crisco, and dipped her hand in, scooping out a couple of dollops to mix into the flour as well. She stood there mixing with her hands until she had herself a good dough and then she scooped out small handfuls to put on a greased pan. When she finished, she slid the pan in the oven and washed her hands. Natalie walked in, holding the basket of fresh eggs, which she set on the counter. She smelled of the earth and the morning chill, her face flushed with it. She took off her ball cap, one June recognized as one of Vaughn’s, and ran her hands through her short dark hair before returning the hat to her head.
“Well, how are things? Was anything else damaged?”
June restarted the coffee pot and took the eggs to wash them. “The front gate and cameras. They’re a total loss.”
“The cameras? Shit, I had forgotten about those. Were they able to pick up anything before they were damaged?”
“Just some man climbing out of a little pickup. He was covered in black. Couldn’t make out nothing.”
“Damn.”
June turned, placing the eggs in her apron. “Your man, he doesn’t drive a little pickup, does he?” She didn’t think it was Natalie’s ex, but she wanted to be sure and she wanted Natalie to be sure. Maybe it would help to put her mind at ease.
“Allen? Gosh no. He drives a black Mercedes. Among other luxury cars.”
“Oh, right. Well, see then? It’s not him.”
“Allen would never bring his Mercedes out here on the dirt roads.”
“I don’t think it was him, Natalie. He would’ve tried to do something to you, wouldn’t he?”
“I wasn’t in the guesthouse though. I was in here.”
June grew quiet. She knew she couldn’t convince her. She stood at the island and cracked the eggs into the mixing bowl as the kitchen began to smell like fresh biscuits. Natalie came to her side. “Want some help?”