Chapter Twelve
Of course Mama couldn’t go home to her condo alone. I suggested she hire someone to come in for a week or so until she was able to move around on her own. “It won’t be for long, Mama.”
“But there’s no way I can climb the stairs to my place. I can’t walk and surely you don’t expect me to hop.”
“I expect you to take the elevator like normal people, Mama.”
“I don’t take the elevator in my building. You know that and there is no use trying to persuade me that thing is safe.”
“This is an emergency. I’ll ride up with you and then I’ll call one of those home health places and ask them to send someone.”
“I told you I am not riding that untrustworthy contraption. Just drive me to a nursing home and check me in for a few weeks.”
“A nursing home is not a hotel. What about your babies?”
“That’s another thing. No home health aide on this earth will want to walk the babies and take care of them. I’ll have to hire a petsitter to come in a couple of times a day. My, the trouble and the expense. But what else can I do?” Her lip trembled so she reminded me of DeLorean getting ready to pitch a fit.
I turned my head toward the window so she wouldn’t see me roll my eyes. “Why, Mama, I’ve just had the most fantastic idea. You and the babies can stay at my house for a few weeks.” I heard an audible intake of breath from DeLorean’s direction.
Mama fanned herself with a sheaf of papers the ER receptionist had given her and stirred a lot of dust off the dashboard. “I couldn’t possibly impose. You already have so much to deal with.”
“There’s no way you can manage on your own, so I don’t want to hear another word of protest.”
“I am the last person on earth to put someone out. The very last. Sophie Rainier, you remember her I’m sure, inflicts herself on her relatives to a point where they’re all on the verge of nervous breakdowns. Last week she showed up unannounced at her daughter’s house in Savannah and then positively steamed when her daughter said the visit was inconvenient because she already had guests from New York.” Mama dropped the ER papers in her lap. She hauled a hairbrush out of her purse and used it to tap my elbow for emphasis.
“Ouch.” I jerked my arm out of reach. “Mama, it would be my privilege to help you. Besides, if you don’t come to my house, it would be a lot more work for me to keep running across the bridge to look after you in Charleston.”
I allowed myself a few moments of mentally rolling in self-pity. I’d accustomed myself to my empty nest and now all the members of my family, dogs included, were dependent on me. And this, after I’d concluded that having DeLorean and Mama in the same house was about as likely to work out as me falling in love with T. Chandler all over again.
Mama settled back, wearing an expression like that you might see on a tennis player who’d just bested her rival for the hundredth time. She’d planned all along to stay at my place. She knew I’d make the offer and she knew she’d accept after making a token protest.
Kenny was in the back yard romping with Brad when I pulled into the driveway. I smacked my hand against my forehead. I’d forgotten to call and let him know Christian had fixed the fence.
“Hey, great dog, Mrs. Caraway.” He came around to the front and I saw a toolbox on the steps. I tumbled out of the van. “Kenny, I’m sorry, but when you didn’t show on time this morning, I let Christian fix the fence.”
“Didn’t show?” His eyebrows came together in a furry line. “You didn’t get my message?”
“Message?” Light slowly dawned. My message machine wouldn’t kick in as long as someone was answering my phone. I’d learned that yesterday when Jack appeared at my door expecting to take me out and discovered me dressed for an evening of cleaning my toilet.
“I called yesterday. A lady promised to tell you I couldn’t get here until after one.”
“Sorry,” called a voice from the back seat. “My bad.”
Christian had said DeLorean had sat on top of the phone and we’d assumed all the calls were from Baldwin. As stressed as she was, when Kenny called she must have completely forgotten to pass the message on.
I shook off a feeling of annoyance over careless family message takers and said, “I’m sorry. But how about another job? My mother sprained her ankle and she’s going to stay with me for a few weeks.” Running mine and DeLorean’s lives. “Could you help me get her settled inside and then go with me to get her things?”
“No problem.” His face brightened and the furry line turned back into two separate eyebrows.
If it were me with the sprained ankle, I’d be fine at someone’s house with a gym bag loaded with clothes and toiletries, but I knew Mama. She’d started a list in the car on the way home and in addition to the dogs and their equipment and her clothes, she’d listed at least ten more items she couldn’t live without. Of course she had to have her cosmetics case, her box of vitamins, and her new orchid plant, the one with the fuschia blooms. I suspected from the way her mouth softened when she mentioned the orchid that Rhett had given it to her.
Between the two of us, Kenny and I got Mama inside and settled on the family room couch. Before we left, I brought Mama a cup of tea and a couple of slices of toast and handed her the TV remote.
She accepted gratefully. “Are you going to the condo right away? The babies need me, but it looks like rain and there is no point in you being outside if the heavens open up. I suppose they could wait.” Doubt clouded her face.
The sky had darkened from bright blue to an angry charcoal in the time since we’d left for the hospital and the air had chilled at least twenty degrees. I waved away her worries. “I’ll have them here before the storm breaks. I haven’t lost any dogs yet.”
I put on a flannel shirt with long sleeves over my blouse and took my umbrella with me. Traffic was light, typical for a Sunday, and I made it to Mama’s building in record time.
The beginnings of the promised downpour spattered on my head as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the condo. Kenny and I shared my umbrella and dashed into the building.
As soon as I unlocked the door and we stepped inside the front room, the Chihuahuas swarmed, attacked my ankles like a couple of stirred up ants, and then retreated behind the couch.
“Is this any way to treat your rescuer?” I called, shaking my fist in mock anger.
Kenny laughed. “Don’t you like dogs?”
“I like them fine, but these two are not only neurotic, they’ve chose to focus their aggression on me. You should see them with my mother. They fawn over her like she’s their queen.”
“What about the big dog, the one in your backyard? He likes you, right?”
“Like may be too strong a word. I think tolerate applies better. He actually belongs to my sister, but he doesn’t seem to have bonded with her any more than he has with me.”
“Hey, he’s a great dog. If your sister ever decides to sell him, tell her to let me know.”
“Sure,” I murmured absently, trying to decide where to start. Mama’s place is cozy and decorated in early frill—lace curtains on the windows, doilies on the chair arms, and fringes on the lampshades. Predominant colors were lavender and pink.
“Hmm. Mama wants her own towels. Would you mind getting them out of the linen closet in the bathroom while I check in the coat closet for her yarn?”
“Sure.” Kenny saluted.
I found the yarn basket and about five hundred cans of soup in the closet. Famine was not going to take my mother, not as long as Campbell’s stayed in business. While I was trying to get the yarn basket without knocking down a stack of cans, Kenny called from down the hall.
“There’s nothing in here but toilet paper.”
I went to see for myself. The linen closet was packed from floor to ceiling with rolls of toilet tissue in every brand imaginable. “Guess Mama’s expecting the great toilet paper shortage of the 21st century. Hold on while I look in her room.”
Mama’s bedroom was as pink and lavender as the rest of the house. The bottom drawer of her dresser was crammed with towels and washcloths. I dragged them out and handed them to Kenny to take to the car while I packed the rest of the things she’d asked for. Kenny came back and took the suitcases down to the van. After I gave him the dog food, the orchid plant, and assorted small items essential to life as Mama knew it, I surveyed the living room. Chihuahuas nowhere to be found.
“Come on, babies, time to go see your mama.” I chirped away, sounding more like a demented parrot than a seriously annoyed woman who was starting to wonder if she could get away with dropping the babies off at the pound and telling Mama they got dognapped by a couple of tourists with more guns than brains.
I’d brought Mama’s bag and I opened it wide to give them the idea. The little darlings pranced away and scooted behind an armchair. Lovely. On top of packing enough of Mama’s things to completely fill my mini van, I had to deal with defiant Chihuahuas. Not how I’d planned to spend my Sunday afternoon.
Sweetpea, usually a meek sort, seemed to have undergone a personality transplant since his trip to the spa, and Tiny was always a pain in the ass. Eventually I got them cornered and tried to gather them in. They snapped at me, one on each side, then attached their little teeth to my shirt sleeves. Before I could peel them off, I heard footsteps and experienced a sense of relief. Kenny could help and we’d be out of here before the storm moved in from the harbor.
“Kenny, you get the little stud on the right and I’ll get the other one,” I said without turning around.
I nearly jumped across the room when, instead of Kenny’s adolescent squawk, a deep voice behind me said, “Where’s Regina?”
I stumbled to my knees, Chihuahuas dangling from my sleeves like remoras hanging off a shark. My heart lurched.
How many years since I’d last seen him? I couldn’t remember. Long enough for his red hair to turn a pinkish white, his stomach to develop a slight paunch, and his face to sag around the edges. But he was still good-looking for someone his age.
Something clicked—maybe the sight of the plaid pants--and I knew this was the man Mrs. Barkley had told me about who’d come looking for Mama the day I took her to the doctor. Why hadn’t I investigated at the time?
A sly grin pulled his thin lips apart. He put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels. I looked at his shoes. Expensive. Italian leather. That figured.
“Susan. All grown up.”
“That tends to happen to a kid as the years pass.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I leaned backward and hit the coffee table.
“You tell her I want her answer. I don’t care where she’s hiding, I’ll find her, and she’ll give me what I asked for.”
“Get out before I call the police.” My initial confusion had given way to righteous anger.
“Mrs. Caraway?” Kenny appeared in the doorway. “Is this man bothering you?” His voice cracked.
Bless him, he was only seventeen and had yet to fill out. His arms hung at his sides like bent sapling branches against his skinny body, but he was prepared to defend me against a man who must have outweighed him by more than fifty pounds.
“No bother,” I said. “This is my ex-stepfather and he’s on his way out.”
Again the sly grin. Didn’t the man have more than one expression? Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember any others except anger.
“Ex-stepfather, that’s rich. But, yeah, I’m leaving.” He sauntered to the door, and Kenny moved quickly aside to let him pass.
Memories of childhood rushed over me, and my hands shook. I would probably have knelt in shock for hours if Kenny hadn’t said, “Did you know you have little dogs hanging off your sleeves?”
“Right,” I said, frowning down at my arms. “I knew thatl.”
I let Kenny help me pry the jaws apart. My thoughts churned until I wondered if my brain would turn to butter. I hadn’t seen Philip Beauchamp since DeLorean was fourteen and he unexpectedly showed up for her birthday to bring her an imitation Barbie, one of those crudely put together hard plastic dolls you can buy for a couple of dollars at discount shops. Mama had come close to fainting when she saw him, and I’d had to run Philip off, slap a cold cloth on Mama’s forehead, and console DeLorean. And this on a day when T. Chandler chose to have one of his fits because I asked him to pick up Christian at the sitter’s on his way home.
I wished I hadn’t been there when Philip walked in. And I wondered what he meant when he said, “Ex-stepfather, that’s rich.” Did he think he was still my stepfather because he’d been married to my mother for a couple of short years? Jerk.
When we got back, Kenny and I unloaded Mama’s things. I brought her the purse and set it in her lap. She took the babies out and let them give her some sugar. Wordlessly I handed her a box of tissues and went to fix lunch for Kenny.
I waited until Kenny left—after eating the four grilled cheese sandwiches I fixed for him and drinking half a gallon of milk--before I told Mama I’d seen Philip Beauchamp. At her condo. In her condo.
“Did you remember my vitamins, Susan? And my bag of prunes?” Mama cupped her hands around the nest of sleeping Chihuahuas in her lap. “And the food for the babies?”
“Yes and yes and yes.” I stood in the middle of the room between the couch where Mama lay propped on pillows with her foot elevated and the love seat where DeLorean sat with Cole sleeping in her arms, his rosebud mouth making little sucking motions. Thank God he didn’t look one bit like his maternal grandfather. “Mama, did you hear what I said? Philip Beauchamp. In the flesh. At your condo.”
I watched Mama’s expression not change, though her cheeks pinked up about five shades. No surprise, but I hadn’t expected one. From what Philip had said, he wanted something from Mama and he’d already contacted her.
DeLorean put her hand to her throat. “What if he found out he has a grandson and he wants to see Cole?” Her arms acted reflexively, pulling her son closer to her chest. DeLorean had been a baby herself when Philip left. When he’d crashed her birthday party all those years later, he’d been drunk and had almost gotten into a fistfight with the father of one of her friends, so DeLorean had been able to see for herself what a jerk he was.
“Don’t worry.” Mama shook her fist so hard, Sweetpea started to roll off her lap and had to scrabble to haul himself back up the side of a cushion. “If Mr. Beauchamp comes within a hundred feet of that child, I will rip his lungs out and wrap them around his head.”
“Mama!” my sister and I said in unison. It was definitely not ladylike to speak of ripping and wrapping lungs.
“He said he needed an answer from you,” I said. “What was he talking about?”
“That is none of your business. I declare, Susan, you have gotten entirely above yourself about asking personal questions. Bless your heart, you just can’t seem to manage without prying.”
“Me?” I screeched. “You’re a world class meddler. At least I pass on messages when I’m asked to.”
This was Mama’s cue to close her eyes and plead pain and exhaustion. I shrugged. There were ways of finding things out, and for the sake of my family, I was going to get some answers. It wasn’t just that Philip Beauchamp made me feel creepy, but childhood memories of him and his selfishness ran deep, a part of my psyche I hadn’t consciously thought about in years. I wasn’t going to wait like a trapped animal for him to make his next move.
At least I wouldn’t have to spend the evening waiting hand and foot on Mama and DeLorean. Jack called to make sure our bathroom inspection “date” for this evening was still on. Maybe when he’d talked to Kelly The Girlfriend last night, she’d pushed him to get his house finished so she wouldn’t have to wait to move to Charleston.
I pictured myself meeting her. Jack would arrange for us to have dinner together. I’d have to recruit someone to play the part of my boyfriend. Maybe Patty would let me borrow Kyle. I’d sit across the table and smile and smile until my face muscles went sore. Then I’d leave with my pretend boyfriend while Jack and Kelly The Girlfriend went back to his place for an evening of...whatever.
What would Kelly be like? I pictured her looking a lot like Maureen, his ex wife. Short and beautiful with a tight little figure that showed she used to be a gymnast and still worked out every day. Platinum hair, thanks to an expensive salon, and makeup that made her face look airbrushed. Eyes as blue as contact lenses could make them. The personality of a piranha.
I realized I was wallowing in bitchiness and I shook my head, clearing it. Jack’s girlfriend was probably not anything like Maureen. Hadn’t Jack said he’d learned from his disastrous marriage? And even if Kelly were Maureen’s double, so what? My role was to be Jack’s chemistry-lacking friend, a pal whose only role was to advise him on decorating his bathroom. I would be nice to Kelly if it killed me.
The rain had come and gone in an hour and the sun reappeared to practically sizzle the remaining clouds out of the sky. DeLorean advised me to wear a dress and a pair of heels. She offered to loan me a gauzy blue number guaranteed to tantalize, but I laughed. “Don’t be silly. Jack’s taking me to dinner and then we’re going to look at his house—currently under renovation. I can’t see myself stumbling around a construction site in heels and, besides, Jack will probably show up wearing jeans--he always does--and I’ll feel overdressed.”
“It’s Sunday. You can’t overdress on Sunday. Jack will appreciate the effort and you look so pretty in dresses. You have gorgeous legs, doesn’t she, Mama?”
Mama looked up from her magazine. “She does--she got them from me. Although, she’s taller than I, of course. I quite agree with you, DeLorean, there is no reason for Susan to wear that common pair of slacks with a blouse that clearly is not the right color for her.”
“Moss green?” I said, looking down at myself. “You helped me pick it out.”
“You must have been wearing different make up that day,” Mama said with a sniff.
“Jack and I are not going on a date, and it wouldn’t matter if I wore a designer gown and a tiara. Jack has a girlfriend. We are nothing more than buddies.”
The doorbell rang. I ran to answer it, ignoring the dual “make the man wait” frowns from Mama and DeLorean. In fact, I gave in to a moment of rudeness and slipped out the door to meet Jack on the steps instead of asking him to come inside.
“Come on,” I said. “Mama hurt her ankle and she’s temporarily moved in. If she sees you, we won’t get out of here before midnight, if at all.” I didn’t need a delay while DeLorean gave him another backrub or Mama quizzed him about his family and asked how they were doing since they’d moved out of state.
“Sorry to hear about the ankle. I’ll go inside and say hello.”
“It’s just a sprain, but she really couldn’t manage on her own with her dogs and she refused to hire a home health aide. You can come in when you bring me back.” I pushed past him down the driveway and he had no choice but to follow. I climbed into his Mercedes. I’d expected the pickup he’d been driving last night. “Nice car.”
“Thanks. Had it in the shop for a tune up,” he said, as though he knew I was wondering about his truck. “Do you mind if we go straight to the house before dinner? I’m expecting someone.”
My stomach dived toward my feet. “Fine. Whatever works for you.” I stared straight ahead. Road. Lots of cars. A couple of trucks.
So Kelly The Girlfriend was on her way. He hadn’t said so, but that had to be it. Why hadn’t I taken Mama’s and DeLorean’s advice and dressed up so I could show off my great legs?
No, wrong. He was taken. I slapped my forehead and stuck out my lips in an involuntary goldfish imitation. Jack gave me an odd look.
I turned away so he wouldn’t see the next expression that appeared on my face while I tried to sort myself out. There was no reason in the world for me to try to look great when I met Jack’s girlfriend. Except I didn’t want Kelly The Girlfriend to be prettier and better dressed than I was. For some stupid reason.