Chapter Nineteen

 

 

I roared across the bridge to Charleston, knowing I was lucky a cop didn’t stop me, and took East Bay to Calhoun Street. I found a parking garage near Broad where I left the Cadillac on the third level.

My headache had dulled considerably since the aspirins. I remembered I hadn’t eaten since lunch and thought about getting a sandwich and a cup of coffee, but eating seemed like too much trouble at this point.

Charleston is a very walkable city. I trudged aimlessly for block after block, not bothering to pretend I was doing anything even so purposeful as window-shopping. People traveling in groups or pairs congregated on corners and pushed past me going in the opposite direction. They all seemed to be chatting happily as they wandered in and out of shops and restaurants, and I envied them their peace.

I tried to block out their excited conversations. And I wished it were impossible for me to think and walk at the same time. But even after five blocks, the thoughts kept coming, crowding into my head, bringing up emotions I didn’t want to deal with. I remembered a time when I was small and my dad walked with me one night down these very streets. We were on our way to pick out a birthday gift for Mama, and I was excited to be allowed to stay up past my bedtime.

An image of my father floated into my mind and tears began sliding down my face. A crowd of teenagers passing by glanced at me curiously. Mama would have said she was shocked at their rudeness, but then what could you expect from their generation.

I turned left at the next corner, crossing the street to a less congested sidewalk so I could suffer without attracting notice. A block or so further on a horse blew through its nose and I looked up to see I was directly across from a ticket stand for carriage tours. Three carriages waited in line. I fished a wadded up tissue out of my purse, did a little damage control to my face, and walked over to the teenager manning the register.

“Are you still open?”

“No, Ma’am. Night tours are by prior arrangement only. We’ve got a big pre-booked party due in a couple of minutes. Unless you’re with them—the Lambtons from Florida?”

“Uh, no.” I wondered if the Lambtons from Florida would notice if I sneaked onto one of the carriages to ride with them. Probably. I wasn’t dressed the least bit like a tourist and I was sure my nose was bright red from crying and the Lambtons would be happy people with no cares. “Thanks anyway.”

The first carriage in line was painted green and was big enough to haul a family of six. The horse was huge, a bright sorrel with a blond mane and tail. A broad blaze covered his face and made him look friendly, the kind of horse you could tell your troubles to if his driver weren’t around to hear. I patted the horse’s neck and smoothed a few tangles out of his mane.

The driver made a half turn, keeping one eye on me and one on the horse. She was a thirtyish woman with hair colored the same shade of sorrel as the horse. “Thanks for choosing our tour. We’ll be driving through Charleston’s famous historic district for the next hour and as we go, I’ll point out sites of interest.”

“I’m not with the Lambtons.” I shook my head. “And I’m not a tourist.”

“Sorry. Just admiring the horse?”

“Yes, he’s a beauty. Do you mind if I pet him? It’s been a rough day and I’ve always believed there’s something soothing about horses.”

She focused on a fresh tear rolling down my cheek, “No problem, ma’am. Pet all you want until my party arrives.”

I ducked my head and patted the horse again, but footsteps and the chatter of voices behind me signaled the arrival of the Lambton party. With a whispered good-bye to that big, understanding horse, I trudged back down the street heading toward Marion Square.

I scrubbed at my face as I walked. The tissue was shredded by now. The horses clopped by and the years rolled back until I was reliving the time Daddy took me for a carriage ride. I sobbed softly, using the sleeve of my sweater to dry my eyes. I was quickly reminded that acrylic yarn is not the most absorbent fabric on the planet. I dug around in my purse and found a handful of napkins.

If only I could talk to Daddy, I knew he’d understand. I found a bench and sat alone under a tree. I closed my eyes and imagined my father sitting beside me with his arm around my shoulders as I poured out my troubles and silently told him all the things I’d say if I could see him one more time. I told him about my life, everything major that had happened since he’d gone away so suddenly. I didn’t leave out the part about my bad marriage and how I’d stuck around way too long. And I told him how I’d made a lot of other mistakes, too many to talk about.

“I wish you hadn’t died before you took me for another carriage ride like you promised,” I whispered. “I wasn’t a good girl that day and for a long time I thought that was the reason you never came home again. But now I know better. Except, maybe I knew logically, but I didn’t really know inside myself.”

There. I’d admitted the truth to myself. Something felt different inside me. I glanced up and was startled to see the horse drawn carriages returning to their stand. Had I really sat here for nearly an hour?

The tears stopped and I leaned back against the bench, letting the clopping of giant hooves against pavement soothe my soul. I was sorry I’d taken so long to figure out who I was and what I wanted—and didn’t want. I was sorry I hadn’t figured myself out before I made Jack angry and made so many other mistakes with my life. And sorry I’d have to quit the ghost tour job, but it would hurt too much to see Veronica and Jack together all the time.

Of course, without another job my savings wouldn’t last long. I’d have to sell the house and DeLorean and Cole would have to crowd in with Mama at the condo. If I didn’t find another job before I started running out of money, I’d move to a different city where prospects might be brighter and the cost of living cheaper. Maybe I’d take up studies at a community college and prepare for an entirely new career, something to do with plants or flowers. After all, I loved gardening. Or there were courses in paralegal, real estate secretary, practical nursing. Forty wasn’t too late to go back to school and start a new career.

I rubbed my last dry napkin across my face and forced a smile. I had a million options. I was going to be okay.

I still wasn’t ready to go home, but I’d pulled myself together enough to take to the sidewalks again. I stood and stretched. Then I tramped along, my head up, basking in a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in years.

My cell phone rang four times and I didn’t bother to answer, or even look at the caller ID. Mama and DeLorean, no doubt. Well, they could call all they wanted. If they had problems, they’d have to cope on their own. New house rule. And if all they wanted was to complain about my earlier meltdown, too bad. I had every right to speak up on my own behalf. Even late bloomers eventually flower.

I found myself approaching the familiar grounds of the Blackthorn House. I turned in at the walkway and sat on the front steps. Regret filled my thoughts. After my initial doubts, I’d truly looked forward to running the ghost tours. Veronica would either have to scrap the whole idea or find someone to replace me. Maybe when I resigned I’d suggest she contact Patty. I chuckled to myself at the thought of Patty working for Veronica.

In the house across the street a light went off in an upstairs window. I yawned so big my jaw ached. It was late. Time for me to go home. I’d talk to Mama and DeLorean in the morning and tell them my plans. If they thought the Susan they’d seen this evening was a temporary aberration, they were in for a reality check.

I rubbed a cramp out of my shoulders, not paying attention to the car that slowly turned the corner and eased along close to the curb until it stopped in front of me. My heart signaled alarm. What if these were the kidnappers Mama was always warning me about? Then I recognized Veronica’s silver BMW. Though she was almost the last person I wanted to see right now, I sighed with relief.

“Thank God, Susan.” She opened her passenger door. “I’ve been looking all over town for you.”

“What’s wrong?” I said in clipped tones.

“You know very well what’s wrong. We need to talk.”

I snorted. Is there anyone on the planet who enjoys hearing that phrase? “Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

“Will you please get in? Come on, I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”

I didn’t want to get in the Beemer with her. On the other hand, the parking garage where I’d left the Cadillac was a long way off, it had gotten chilly, and the streets were now practically deserted. Besides, if I told her tonight that I was quitting, I wouldn’t have to bother coming in to work in the morning and taking a chance on running into Jack.

“Thanks,” I said casually, getting into the car. “I’m parked in that big public garage over on Broad.”

She u-turned in the parking lot next to the house and headed back toward the center of town. “I tried reaching you on your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was busy.” I stared out the window, pretending to be fascinated by a stray cat sitting on the sidewalk. The poor thing looked like it was going to have kittens any second. “Do you think I have to be hooked to an electronic leash for your convenience simply because I’m running your ghost tours?”

“You know better than that. Now aren’t you wondering why I called?” Her expression went intense and her face was more square than I’d ever seen it. Positively box-like.

“Not really.” I shrugged. It was obvious she’d talked to Jack or she wouldn’t have known to go out looking for me. He probably told her all about my evening at the Budget Motel dealing with my mother’s problem du jour. Then after they’d spent an hour or so laughing, Veronica must have suffered a few jabs from her conscience. She’d want to explain why she didn’t see anything wrong with hooking up with Jack, it wasn’t like he was interested in me, and besides the relationship with Walter had cooled, so it was time for a new man. She’d tell me she knew I wouldn’t be ticked off at her, we’d been friends too long, and I’d want her to have the best. Maybe she’d even suggest I take Walter for my starter boyfriend and get her off the guilt trip, though of course, I’d have to understand she had absolutely no reason to feel guilty and I needed to get over myself and move on with my life.

“You don’t understand, Susan. You don’t understand one single thing that’s going on and I am quickly becoming exasperated with you.”

“I understand everything. That’s why I’m resigning from your ghost tour business. Effective now.”

She braked, swung the wheel over and parked in front of an antique store. “You do not understand. Now stop being silly or I’ll climb out of my seat and shake some sense into you.”

“You can’t expect me to keep the job after what’s happened between you and Jack.” I did not look at her, though I wondered if she’d at least have the grace to blush over her betrayal of our friendship.

“You idiot, nothing has happened. There is no me and Jack. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Jack called me a few hours ago and told me you were under the mistaken impression that he and I were dating or madly in love and I knew I had to find you and get you to believe the truth. To tell you the truth, my feelings are really hurt that you’d believe I’d go after Jack.”

“Call it what you will. Lunch with Jack. After quitting time get togethers in my office with Jack. Dinner with Jack. Hmmm. I’m not Sherlock Holmes, but I’m not stupid, either.”

She made a growling sound that Mama would have disapproved of. “I’d hit you if I thought it would help you start thinking straight. I admit I haven’t always been the easiest friend. I’m usually running around with fourteen different irons in the fire, too busy thinking about what I’ve got going on to pay all that much attention to anyone else. But I love you. You’ve always been there for me and I’ve tried to be there for you. After all our years as best friends, do you really think I’d go out with the guy you’ve been mooning over since high school?”

“I have not been mooning.” I swiveled in my seat to face her. “I was happily married for almost twenty years. I never had thoughts of another man and don’t you dare accuse me of infidelity. No thoughts of any man but my husband. Not for one single second.”

“Maybe not until things went sour with T. Chandler, but once you realized your husband was cheating and you realized the marriage was over, you wondered what would have happened if you’d married Jack instead of him. You wondered if you’d be divorced now, and then you knew you wouldn’t be because Jack isn’t T. Chandler.”

“I never…”

My cheeks blazed. How did she know? I hadn’t told anyone that, not even myself. Not until this very moment. God, she was right. How could I have kept a secret like that from myself?

“Jack and I have never been more than good friends,” I said making my tone sound neutral. Tried to, anyway, but I could tell Veronica wasn’t buying my story for even a fraction of a second. “Lately we can’t seem to agree on anything. We don’t have the least bit of attraction for each other—we never did.” Sure and the moon was going to dance in the sky tonight over Fort Sumter.

“Ha! I guess you still believe your own lies. Not only do you owe Jack and me a huge apology, but you need to do what you should have done years ago and tell him how you feel.”

“No! I mean, okay, I apologize. I should have known you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” I felt like slime. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she fired me. Wait. She couldn’t. I’d already quit. But she’d probably dump me as a friend and that was exactly what I deserved. “Next time I see Jack, I’ll tell him I’m sorry, though I’m not talking to him about feelings. I have no reason to.”

“You are so stubborn.” She started the car and pulled out of her parking spot. “Exactly like your mother.”

“I am not like Mama,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not one bit—just ask her.”

“You are great at hiding things from yourself, too. Admit it.”

I wasn’t. Yes, I was. Failing to analyze myself made life a lot easier for me, made it so comforting to simply coast along in neutral. Until now.

We rode another few blocks in silence. A light breeze ruffled the fronds of a palm tree as we passed. The streets had quieted, most of the tourists in for the night.

“Here’s your garage.” Veronica signaled a turn.

I put my hand on the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. You can leave me off here.” I had a lot of thinking to do and I was still wondering why the gods had smiled on me and given me a friend like Veronica. I certainly didn’t deserve her, not after the way I’d jumped to stupid conclusions about her and Jack.

“What level are you on?”

I started to protest, but figured if I did, she’d accuse me again of being like my mother. “Three,” I said.

She grabbed a parking ticket. The gate rose and the Beemer smoothly rolled forward and up the ramp. She took me to the Cadillac, the only car on level three and practically the only car left in the parking deck. Before I could get out of my seat, she put her hand on my arm. “By the way, I’m not accepting your resignation. I’ll expect you in the office at eight tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about seeing Jack at the Blackthorn House since he’s going to be over in Ashley looking at another building for me. In case you’re wondering, the Ashley job was the only topic of conversation in your office after you left, you dope.”

My face flushed. “Love you, mean it,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

I watched her drive away. Veronica was right--I was a dope. About a lot of things. I was glad she’d cleared things up and glad she hadn’t let me quit my job and run away from home. But after thinking about it all evening, I still wasn’t sorry about my little show of attitude in my kitchen. Big show. It was past time for me to put a stop to the “let Susan handle it” routine.

But of course, even after I apologized to Jack, I couldn’t expect him to want me to be more than a casual friend. He’d only been back in town a few weeks and already we’d managed to clash. The high school years when we’d been best pals were nothing but a collection of sweet memories.

With a deep sigh, I started the Cadillac and slowly rolled down the ramp to the exit. It was almost midnight. I was wide awake, but I knew I’d be sorry for the late night when I had to get up for work.

When I got home, I parked at the end of the driveway, instead of putting the car in the garage. Then I slipped off my shoes before I stepped into the house. I’d tiptoe upstairs so I wouldn’t wake anyone.

Unfortunately Brad didn’t have my reservations about disturbing the rest of the family. He hadn’t made a sound when I drove up, and I almost forgot he existed. No, Brad politely waited until I pushed open the front door before he started raising holy hell. Both Chihuahuas leaped out of their bed and, snarling their displeasure, made a beeline for my ankles. The light in the upstairs hallway came on at the same time as the family room light.

Mama, unable to climb the stairs on her bad ankle, had been sleeping on the couch. I’d forgotten about that. Now she sat up and called, “Susan, is that you?”

“Who else? Would you please call off your dogs?”

“Certainly. I wouldn’t dream of letting them cause trouble, especially not in someone else’s home. Babies, babies, come to Mama.”

Poof. They were gone, thundering across the wood floor like two miniature buffalo and back into the family room to make a fuss over Mama.

I rubbed a sore spot on my ankle where Tiny had nipped me. Then I debated. Make myself a soothing cup of herbal tea? Or head upstairs and collapse into bed with the blankets over my head?

I finally opted for the tea. Not wanting to be rude, I offered Mama a cup. I expected her to refuse and make a remark about how she wouldn’t want to put me out. No indeed, not after I’d made my feelings about her and the rest of the family clear and she would not be a burden, she’d see herself in the grave first, and she was moving out first thing in the morning, and she would never again speak to me. And I was dying inside because she was my mama and I did not want to lose her love.

“Thank you, Susan. I’d enjoy a cup of tea. Chamomile, if you have it.”

My eyebrows arched. Mama was probably waiting until morning to let me know how she felt and deliver her lecture to put me in my place.

“I’d like some, too. Peppermint if it’s not too much trouble.” DeLorean had slipped quietly downstairs and now she stood in the foyer rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her hair was tousled and her feet were bare and she looked for all the world like she had at age seven when she’d wait for me to come home from a date and read her a story.

I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “Of course it’s no trouble. I’m putting the kettle on right now.”

All this politeness was killing me, but at least my temper tantrum hadn’t cost me two of the most important people in my life. I busied myself with the tea, grateful that Brad had finally figured out I belonged here and stopped trying to wake the dead.

I’d originally planned to take my tea up to my room, but now that Mama and DeLorean had awakened, I carried the tray in and set it on the coffee table in front of Mama. I joined her on the couch and DeLorean sat on my other side.

We each fixed our own tea the way we liked it—mine with a dab of artificial sweetener, DeLorean’s peppermint with sugar, and Mama’s plain chamomile with no additives. Much tinkling of spoons against cups and exclamations of how it was so soothing to drink tea. Way too much throat clearing and even a few remarks about the lovely weather.

I was ready to scream. Finally I couldn’t stand the fake pleasantries or the suspense for one more second. “Okay,” I said, “I have something to say.” I put down my tea and watched tendrils of steam curling out of the cup as I tried to formulate my thoughts.

DeLorean and Mama exchanged looks of apprehension. I hurried to reassure them.

“First of all, I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for the way I said it and I’m sorry I aired family problems in front of Jack. I’ll call Christian tomorrow and tell him the same thing. I’m not backing down, though. From now on, if either of you have a real emergency, call me. But if you want me to drop everything to run errands or handle problems you could take care of on your own, don’t bother. And I hope you understand, I am not the only one in the wrong.” Please, God, let them understand. I’d grown; I’d changed. Was it my fault it had taken me years to figure out my life?

Mama pursed her lips and put her cup down as delicately as if it were made of spun sugar. “Susan, dear, if you had issues with DeLorean—and even with me—you should have spoken up sooner. After all, we are not mind readers. We cannot modify our behavior unless we know we are causing a problem.”

“Mama’s right.” DeLorean gazed at me steadily. “We had a long talk after you roared down the street in Mama’s Cadillac like you were driving the pace car for a NASCAR race. Really, Susan, I don’t understand why you were angry with us. You always jumped right in and took responsibility whether we asked you to or not. After a while, we started expecting you to handle everything. Why wouldn’t we? You always did such a great job. And it was easier to just let you, even if we sometimes had to listen to you complain.”

I exercised my jaw for a few seconds, opening and closing it like a demented guppy before I reluctantly said, “I guess that’s fair.”

“I suppose the lesson to be learned is that you train people how to treat you.” Mama nodded a half dozen times to emphasize her words.

“You sound like a self-help book, Mama. So what you two are saying is I chose my own adventures and I have to change my ways or stop bitching.”

DeLorean grinned. “Hey, big sister, I love you. From now on things will be different. I promise I will be a lot more understanding and a lot more responsible.” She leaned closer and hugged me, almost upsetting my teacup.

Mama moved in on my other side to join us for a group hug, which quickly went from sappy to awkward since none of us seemed to know quite how to end it or what to say or do next. How could we? We’d never had any practice actually relating to each other as adults. Now that I thought about it, the three of us had wasted years arguing and criticizing each other.

DeLorean saved the moment by saying, “One for all and all for one. What are we now—the three musketeers?”

“I don’t know about musketeers, dear.” Mama made a face. “I believe musketeers are rowdy men with weapons. The three tea partiers, perhaps.”

We laughed and pulled apart, which confused the Chihuahuas. They obviously didn’t know whether to run in circles or huddle in Mama’s lap.

Brad barked and DeLorean went to silence him before he woke Cole. Very responsible of her.

When she returned, she said, “You’re right about Brad, Susan. I don’t have time or money for a dog. Do you think that boy Kenny would like to have him?”

“I’m sure he would.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. And I’m going to see about getting a substitute teacher job. Susan—I really am sorry. I didn’t realize you were forced to work at that pawnshop. I thought T. Chandler gave you a ton of money in the divorce settlement and you’ve always been so generous, I was sure you wouldn’t mind sharing. Mama told me the truth and now I feel like a jerk.”

“Not your fault. I could have told you how things are instead of pretending my life was one big story of success and wealth.”

“Well, now I know and I promise I won’t be a financial burden. A substitute teaching job will do until I figure out my next move. Mama’s agreed to help out with babysitting and transportation.”

“Guess we all have our calls to make tomorrow.” Mama put her empty cup on the table. “I’ve made a decision, too, girls. I’m going to tell Rhett the truth. Afterward if he still wants to marry me, I’m going to accept. I hope you’ll wish me happiness.”

Group hug again. But at this point the Marsh women had had all the love and tenderness we could handle for one evening and we broke apart after a second, grinning self-consciously at each other.

DeLorean excitedly started offering suggestions for Mama’s wedding and reception. Mama said DeLorean had no experience planning weddings and she’d handle her own arrangements—if DeLorean didn’t mind.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t naïve enough to expect the night’s cooperative mood to last. Though our kiss and make up session had led to a new understanding, we were still human and we were still three stubborn women who had differences that would lead inevitably to disagreements. But that was the way real families were supposed to be. I hoped we could be a little more considerate of each other in the future.