A Spirited Gift

He smelled strongly of whiskey. I knew from past experience that Mr. Borden ended up here a time or two every year when he got a little carried away while drinking.

“Wilbur got into a fight with his next-door neighbor—again—this time about a tree that came down in his yard during the storm,” Scott explained.

“I couldn’t even get out of my driveway,” Mr. Borden added. “How is that fair, Mayor? I asked him politely to move it, but he didn’t. We got into an argument. He punched me—I punched him. He hit me with my own bottle of whiskey. I hit him back with a tree limb.”

“And Mr. Arthur, your neighbor, is in the hospital,” Tim reminded him.

Mr. Borden shrugged. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far, Mayor. If you can help me out with this, I’ll be sure to vote for you next year.”

I appreciated the offer and could relate to having a tree in the way, but this wasn’t a good way to handle it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Borden. I wish I could help. Maybe Mr. Arthur won’t press charges against you.”

“Are you two dropping off or what?” the sergeant behind the desk growled at Duck’s finest.

“Don’t move,” Tim said to me. “I want to know what’s going on after we get Mr. Borden processed. I think you at least owe me that much.”

I wasn’t sure why I owed him anything, but Tim had his own guidelines on these things. I didn’t plan to wait around for the conversation—we could talk later in private.

But the side door buzzed open to admit Mr. Borden at the same time that the deputies released my father. They passed each other in the doorway.

“Hey! Wait a minute,” Tim protested. “You can’t just let this man go. I arrested him for breaking and entering last night at Missing Pieces.” He looked back at me. “Dae, did you bail him out?”

“Not exactly.” I wished I didn’t have to deal with this right now.

“He doesn’t look like he’s escaping,” Scott remarked. “Someone posted bail for him.”

“Not exactly?” Tim asked. “Then what?”

Two deputies took custody of Mr. Borden, who went along peacefully, knowing the drill too well. I could hardly grab my father and make a run for the front door. I looked at Kevin, who shrugged but didn’t say anything. I guessed this was my mess to clean up.

“I asked him to stay there,” I explained. “Danny Evans, this is Officer Tim Mabry.”

“We’re acquainted.” Danny nodded.

“And Officer Scott Randall,” I continued while my brain searched frantically for a way to explain the situation without revealing our relationship. This definitely wasn’t the place I wanted everything to come out.

“My house is flooded,” Danny said. “I work at the Sailor’s Dream—also flooded. My van is wrecked. Your mayor showed me some Christian kindness that I didn’t know existed anymore. She let me stay at her shop instead of on the street. She bought me a meal and made me feel like I mattered to the world for a change. Then you two showed up.”

He spoke with a passion that silenced Tim’s outrage. Best of all, his explanation had nothing to do with him being my father. It seemed I was spared from explaining after all. I’d felt so guilty and conscious of my secret that I hadn’t realized there was something else to say.

Tim turned to me and I nodded. “I didn’t think about you noticing that someone else was in Missing Pieces.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I always check up on you—the shop, I mean. It’s part of my routine. Just to make sure everything is okay in town. You know?”

I smiled. It seemed Kevin wasn’t my only guardian angel.

“I feel like a fool,” Tim said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Evans. If the phones would’ve been working, my first course of action in these circumstances would’ve been to call the mayor and ask her what was going on. I hope you won’t sue the town for wrongful prosecution.”

Danny shook his hand. “I don’t think I’d do that, since Dae came to get me out. But thanks for the apology, Officer.”

After a long, awkward moment of silence, Kevin said, “Right. I guess we’ll go now. See you guys later. Take care.”

The three of us walked out to Kevin’s pickup, leaving the two officers to file their reports and head back to Duck later. Once we were in the pickup and driving down the road, Kevin kept up a conversation with Danny, asking him about himself in subtle ways that I understood—he was trying to get more information about my father.

I interrupted a few times, but their conversation continued across me, since I was sitting in between them. Maybe it was just as well. I wasn’t sure what to say at this point. Danny sounded like he thought I was near sainthood for getting him out of jail.

Of course, I was nothing of the sort. I’d done what any daughter would do for her father. Because he didn’t know the truth, I felt awkward trying to explain. I was the mayor, but I didn’t rush down to Manteo to bail out every Duck citizen who went to jail. Although I assured myself that I would’ve done the same for anyone I’d let stay at Missing Pieces.

I just wasn’t sure who else that would be.