Disclaimer: I do not own Hart of Dixie.
Coming Up For Air, Ch. 2
DAY 3
It was mid morning in Bluebell, the Rammer Jammer was fairly quiet, just a few late breakfast customers lingering over their coffee and newspapers, when Dr. Brick Breeland walked up to the counter. Seeing him enter, his daughter Lemon wordlessly fixed his coffee to go (dark roast, two sugars, no cream) and delivered it to the counter at almost the same moment. Brick was not smiling.
"Where is she?" he demanded as he leaned over the counter and lowered his voice.
Lemon was smiling. "Am I suddenly the seer of Bluebell? I must be, if I am being asked to decipher your question as well as answer it."
"You know perfectly well who I'm talking about, I'm talking about the other half of my, our, practice, who was last seen, I believe, or at least the rumor is, she was last seen with your business partner, that's who I'm talking about, and where is she? And by the way, where is HE? Surely you're not doing all this by yourself!"
"Daddy, everything's fine, just some things aren't getting done is all, nothing really critical, although we will need to inventory the freezer by the end of the week, and I just hate that…"
"Are you going to answer my question, Lemon?"
"Eventually, Daddy, eventually, you really must be careful of rumors, you know, things can get blown out of proportion so easily. The last time I talked to Wade, he said he and Dr. Hart had a lot to talk about, and don't expect him right away, so I'm not…expecting him right away."
"Lemon, that may or may not answer the question of when, but I want to know WHERE! As in WHERE is my replacement for this weekend! The 'Tide's playing Georgia, I've been cooped up in that practice all summer, she said she'd be here this week…"
"Daddy, it'll be fine, what did you do when Dr. Wilkes died?"
"That's not the point, it's her half of the practice, I want her here and I want her here now. You must know where she is."
"Daddy, don't be a child, I can only guess, and besides, if Wade and Dr. Hart are together, I'm sure they don't want to be disturbed, and furthermore, guesses aren't very reliable."
"I'll bet your guesses are."
"Daddy, you're such a flatterer."
"So you're not going to tell me."
"That'll be a buck twenty-five for the coffee."
Excerpt from the Bluebell Blawker –
It's day three of the Hart Watch, and still no sign of our elusive Yankee doctor. The Blawker has learned that a Dr. Zoe Hart was booked on a flight from Atlanta to Mobile, but whether or not she took that flight we have not been able to determine. Coincidentally, or perhaps not so coincidentally, rising young Bluebell businessman and publican Wade Kinsella has also not been seen since he went to the airport to pick up our good doctor, and in fact no one actually saw him leave for or return from the airport. The Sheriff says no missing persons reports have been filed, and there is no evidence whatsoever of foul play…
"Mr. Kinsella, what a surprise! What can I get you?" Lemon noted that Earl Kinsella appeared fairly clean and completely sober as she dusted off the counter in front of him. His breath was actually, well, didn't smell of alcohol anyway.
"Just a cup of coffee, Lemon, thanks."
She got it for him. "It's truly a pleasure to see you, Mr. Kinsella, especially…"
"Sober?" he grinned.
"Yes, I think that is the word."
"Thank you, I've been workin' on it." Lemon smiled warmly. It had been many years since Lemon had seen Earl Kinsella sober, but she had fond memories of those times, times when Wade and Jesse went everywhere together, back when they were children, back when Lemon had a mother.
Earl set down his coffee cup softly and leaned over a little closer to Lemon. "Wade's here, isn't he?"
It was a statement more than a question, and Lemon considered it carefully. Obviously Wade wasn't in the dining room, or sitting at the bar with them, and although it was theoretically possible that Wade could be in the office or the kitchen or the storeroom, for that matter, Lemon was quite sure Earl didn't mean that, he was asking if Wade was in Bluebell.
"Yes," she said in a low voice, almost a whisper.
Earl nodded.
"With that pretty doctor?"
Again, Lemon considered carefully. She looked at Earl, and he was looking back at her with clear eyes, clear eyes for the first time in years, and somehow Lemon knew why, and she knew she would answer.
"Yes."
Earl just nodded again and sat back in his chair. Lemon smiled and found something to do at the other end of the bar. A few minutes later, Earl was gone, and as Lemon picked up his coffee cup she realized he hadn't paid.
That night, in the kitchen of the Mayor's plantation, Lavon and Annabeth are having a brandy.
"You know what's going on, don't you," Annabeth said, giving Lavon that scrunched up eye look that for some reason he found so endearing.
"Lavon Hayes knows nothing about nothing, except what he needs to know."
"Now, I know I've asked you this before, but are you sure Wade went to pick up Zoe, because that car has been sitting there for days collecting leaves."
"Yes, I'm sure, and you know, they could have stopped off at a little bed and breakfast on the way back."
"Lavon, you know as well as I do there are no b-and-b's between Mobile and here."
"Well, who says they have to come directly back to Bluebell? Maybe they went on to Pensacola, or back to New Orleans, you know they've both been working hard this summer and haven't taken any time off."
Annabeth just lowered her head and stared at Lavon in disbelief.
"That doesn't explain the CAR. How'd they get someplace else when the car is here? Alright, I get it, a need to know basis only. For Heaven's sake, Lavon, you'd think she works for the CIA."
"You should be careful where you say that," Lavon smiled, "it could get a lot of people in trouble."
DAY 4
Excerpt from the Bluebell Blawker –
Still no sign of Bluebell's most sought after couple, who have reportedly arrived back in town incognito and are, apparently, now in hiding. Suspicion has fallen, quite naturally, on the Mayor's plantation, where both members of this duo used to reside and one still does. Mayor Hayes, however, has refused comment. Meanwhile, down at the Rammer Jammer, you can, if you so desire, place a small wager on the date of the first sighting of either Dr. Zoe Hart or Wade Kinsella…
Lemon stood leaning at the end of the bar, Wally with his cup of coffee next to her, and surveyed the scene at the Rammer Jammer. The place was full, which was good, and it was mid-afternoon, which was also good, since it was a slow time of the day anyway, but Lemon thought WHAT could possibly draw out half the population of Bluebell (she didn't see a tourist in the room), and what were these people doing here during working hours, and WHO was doing those jobs that these people were supposed to be doing? Of course, she thought, nodding her head, the answer was right in front of her. Up on a big whiteboard near the back was clipped an oversize calendar where people, for five dollars, could bet on the "First Sighting" date by putting their initials in the box. There was no mention on the calendar anywhere of the first sighting of what. There was no need. There were, however, still disagreements over some of the finer points.
"I think we can all agree that the most likely first sighting will be on the plantation," Tom Long said, looking around the room, "so I think it just makes sense to define first sighting as when Lavon or Annabeth sees one or the other, and they self-report on the date and time, although a picture with a time-stamp would be nice."
"Actually," Dash Dewitt interjected from his seat near the front of the gathering, "it would be more than helpful if there was a photograph. It would nail down the sighting to the microsecond, and if it was around midnight, say, at the Dixie Stop, it would settle the question of what day."
"Or it could be a tie-breaker," Wanda added, "although, what about people who don't go around in their pajamas with their cell phones and they just see something out the window but can't take a picture?"
"That's true," Tom said, "not everyone does that."
"I think everyone in this town is basically honest," the Rev. Mayfair said, "so I think we can trust people to report the right time, even without proof."
"And we wouldn't want to discriminate against the technologically-challenged," Dash added.
"That's true, too, Wanda," said Tom as he turned to what he still thought of as his bride, clasped her hands in his and gazed meaningfully into her eyes.
Wanda gazed right back. "You're so right, Tom."
"What time are we talking about?" Becky Hilson spoke up from the back. "Everybody's watch is different."
"We're talkin' Rammer Jammer time, Mrs. Hilson," Dash said, waving his free hand toward the clock, the other perched on his walking stick. "Everyone who wishes to do so, and I urge you all to do so, should either synchronize your timepiece to the Rammer Jammer's clock, or make note of the discrepancy, plus or minus, so in the event of any dispute we can adjudicate."
Cricket raised her hand and waved it, as if in class. "Now, does this mean first sighting as a couple, or individually at different locations?"
The crowd went quiet for a bit. The Rev. Mayfair finally broke the silence. "I think it would be fair to include individual sightings at different locations, as long as it was on the same day."
"So if one were to be seen here, say, just before midnight, and the other at the Dixie Stop just a few minutes later when it was the next day, that wouldn't count?" Tom mused.
"No, Tom, I think if the sightings were within 24 hours of each other, regardless of the day, that would count as if the first sighting was actually the First Sighting, if you see what I mean," the Reverend said, speaking slowly so as not to confuse himself. Tom nodded.
Meanwhile, back at the bar, Lemon turned to Wally. "Don't you find all this a little…distasteful?"
Wally cocked his head, pursed his lips, thought a minute. "Quite possibly, but you know I'm reminded of a thing I heard on a record. You familiar with Hank Williams Jr.? Naw, I thought not, he's old school, he sings a lot about his daddy, Hank Williams, now he's REAL old school, you know the Williams boys are Alabama born and bred, well anyway Hank Jr. does this song, and the intro is spoken, he says he had a dream last night, he heard his momma talkin' to his daddy, his momma sayin' 'Bocephus', that's Hank Jr.'s nickname, don't ask me why, 'wants to boogie-woogie.' He says he heard daddy's reply to momma, 'Audrey, it's in him and it's got to come OUT!' It's like that here, this little crazy business is in THEM and it's got to come OUT."
Lemon shook her head as she watched the crowd. "I couldn't stop it anyway."
Wally nodded his head and took a sip of his coffee. "Bes' not to try."
Later that night, at the plantation, Lavon and Annabeth were in bed watching the Discovery Channel. They had on a program about whales. They were on the verge of falling asleep, that halfway point between wakefulness and slumber, when Annabeth opened her eyes and caught a fragment from the program.
"…adult sperm whales have been known to dive thousands of feet for food and hold their breath for six hours…"
"Wow, think of that," Annabeth said sleepily, "holding your breath for six hours."
"Mmm," mumbled Lavon softly, "think of this. Even whales have to come up for air sometime."