She doesn’t even look up at me. Just says, “Hey, Mom. Hey, Miss Laney.”
Laney looks at me, acknowledges my rolling eyes, and then shifts her weight and leans her head way over to the side. “Y’all probably know all about advertising and such, right? I mean, Alex, you’re from New York and all.”
Now Alex’s and Savannah’s heads are tilting a bit right back at her. And their eyebrows are straightening out. Laney shrugs. “Silly me, I just don’t get how this all works. I mean, look at Savannah with your lipstick and those shorts that don’t cover good sense, I’d be a tad concerned about exactly what it is you’re selling here.”
My daughter gasps and scoots off the counter to stand next to Alex.
Alex stands up straight and looks at Savannah. “Um, well, Laney—”
“That’s Miss Laney to you.” Comes from over the next aisle.
“Miss Laney. We’re not really open.”
Savannah flips her hair at me and Laney, and tilts her chin up.
“She won’t dress like that when we’re really open, of course,” Alex finishes with a grin at Savannah. “Right?”
My daughter’s face goes red, and she flees to the back room.
Alex turns to follow her, and Laney turns in the opposite direction toward the front door. She’s almost to the door when Missus says from whatever aisle she’s in now, “Well done, Laney. Public shaming is the trick to raising kids, you know. Not near enough of it these days.”
Laney raises a hand in a wave behind her. “Learned from the master. I believe that’s the same line you used on me at the snow cone booth at the fair when I was sixteen.”
There’s a pause, then Missus says, “Thought it sounded familiar.”
Peter, who’d followed us to the back of the store, leans toward me and whispers, “Hope it takes better with Savannah than it did with Laney.”
“Amen.”
He leans on the back counter, where Alex and Savannah had been, and looks around. “So, what do you think?”
“I like it. Reminds of places we go into on vacation or in tourist towns. Can’t believe it’s right here in Chancey.”
“I know. I’m worried we won’t have enough traffic. Especially now that the Dollar Store is opening. Nowadays those places sell cute stuff. But I’m thinking we’ll expand on the food. Have sandwiches and maybe even do some takeout. I figure I can read a recipe as well as the next person.”
Looking at the chalk board Alex left and the food items written on it, I ask Peter, “Do you like to cook?”
Missus joins us. “Yes, tell us, do you like to cook? Is that how you want to spend your days and evenings? Mixing up tuna salad and pitchers of lemonade? I imagine the return on investment for those items is astronomical.”
“Mother, it’s what I’m doing now. I don’t know. Diego and I are trying some things out.”
“I bought the newspaper because you earned a degree in journalism, but when you came back to town you chose to hang out in that crummy museum instead. For free. Now you have to play second fiddle to that Yankee, who already has one successful business. I told you we could buy him out if you wanted, if you sell your house and live upstairs. At least then you’d be a business owner. I just don’t understand.” Missus grits her teeth and starts toward the door. “A shopkeeper. A shopkeeper!”
Peter and I exchange grimaces, and then look at the door where Missus stands, waiting for someone to open it. Peter makes a dash for it.
“Here, let me, Mother.” He opens it with one hand and touches the other to the small of his mother’s back.
She turns around and lays a hand on his arm. “Forgive me. You know I will always be proud of you, but things are just not going as I’d planned. Anna, and that junk store next door to our beautiful home.” She walks on out, and as she passes the windows, she looks reduced. Wrung out. Tired.
Peter lets the door fall shut and looks at me.
“Did she just ask you to forgive her?”
He puts his hands in his pants pockets and sighs. “Kind of shocking, isn’t it? Anna is wearing her out. They really should not be living together. Has Will said anything?”
“He yelled at me yesterday on the phone. Said everyone was fighting. That even FM was getting on his nerves.”
“Yeah, mine, too.” Peter pours himself a small cup of pink lemonade. “He’s become by Anna, the way he’s always been about Mother. No. He’s worse. At least with Mother he could fight it out. But with Anna? She can do no wrong. Don’t be surprised if Will isn’t moving home soon.”
“Just Will? Without Anna? No.”
We both are quiet for a moment. Only sound is the air conditioner kicking on. Peter crushes his little cup and tosses it in the wastebasket beside the table. “But you’re getting your bookstore back, right?”
“Yep, looks like it. Do you know what hours you’re going to be open yet?”
“Not really. You and Shannon making any changes? Guess we’ll want to be a little more regular than Ruby’s. Hey, Alex,” Peter says as the young man comes in from the back room. His hair is messy, and there is actually lipstick on his face. Red lipstick.
Now it’s my mouth that hangs open. My face flushes. He and Savannah were back there making out while we were right out here. And I’ve been in that stockroom, it’s not that big. We were right here! Worst part? Her trampy outfit worked.
Peter grins, and Alex grins, and I leave.
There are just not enough convents in Georgia.
Chapter 14
Pulling out of my parking space, I catch a glimpse of Andy’s new junk shop behind me. Of course, it’s hideous, but… it fits? But how can it fit? It’s purple and green, for crying out loud. At the end of the block I stop and take a longer look in my rearview mirror. No, no way it fits. Right?
Instead of turning up the hill for home, I decide to take a run by and check out the new Dollar Store. Pulling in the parking lot on the end beside the Piggly Wiggly like I usually do, I see the bright orange and yellow sign at the other end. There are a few cars in front of it, and I drive on through the gravel lot to that end.
Even in the noonday glare, the sign shines, and the interior lights are evident. Apparently, the electric is on. Still can’t imagine how I hadn’t noticed this part of the strip mall was empty, or even down here. But it has been a busy year. Turning around, I drive by again and park in front of China Palace. Might as well pick up some wonton soup while I’m here. Laney and I can have it for lunch when she gets up from her nap.
Inside is dark as they have thin, printed paper taped over most of the front windows. You can kind of see through it, but it keeps the place dark and cool. I step to the right to look at the lunch buffet. General Tso’s chicken, fried rice, eggrolls, veggies and lumps of white meat in a white sauce, green beans, and then the fried dough balls rolled in sugar. Maybe I’ll get some stuff to go along with the soup.
Back at the side counter, I place an order with the teenager there, and then sit in the chair in the corner beside the empty coatrack. Notice how smartphones make waiting so much easier? Used to be I panicked if I didn’t have a book with me to read in case I had to wait somewhere, but now? Not so much. Bryan has checked in at the Laurel Cove golf course. Patty and Andy posted a selfie of them on a Jamaican beach. They already look pink, and I see someone has already commented “Sunscreen???” Peter’s pictures of the bistro look really good. Good idea to have a Facebook page for the bistro. I should do one for the bookstore.
Yes, I’m on Facebook. Although I’ve not done a post yet, so I’m what they call a “stalker.” I don’t have a problem with that.
“Carolina. Hey.” Anna stands just inside the door of the restaurant with a man I don’t know. He has a short-sleeved dress shirt and tie on. He’s about the same height as Anna, and he’s looking around.
“Anna, what are you doing here?” I stand up and start to give her a hug, but she pulls back slightly, so I awkwardly touch the back of her arm. “You look good. How are yo
u feeling?”
“Fine, thanks. We’re here for lunch.” She takes another little step back and holds out a hand toward the man. “Carolina, this is Mr. Kendrick. Carolina is my mother-in-law.”
“Mr. Kendrick.” We shake hands, and he nods, with barely a smile.
“Nice to meet you.”
Anna speaks to the teenager behind the counter. “We need a table.” She then looks back at me. “Mr. Kendrick is my boss. He just hired me to work at the Dollar Tree. Work up to assistant manager.”
Oh. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were looking for a job. Congratulations.”
Mr. Kendrick rocks on his heels and crosses his arms. “We are lucky to have found her. We always try to hire local people for all positions, including management, but sometimes it’s not so easy. I didn’t even have time to advertise.”
One of the waitresses waves them toward the open table she’s standing beside. I take a step back. “I’ll let y’all get to lunch. Looks like my take-out order is ready. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kendrick.”
He reaches out to shake my hand again. “You as well, Carolina. And please, call me Kyle.”
They walk off, and I pull my billfold out of my purse to pay as I watch them get seated. Anna has on black pants and a blue blouse. She looks older than eighteen and doesn’t look pregnant at all. Wait, Kyle? Oh my gosh, I bet he’s Kimmy’s husband. Yep, she said her husband’s name is Kyle, and he looks like he fits that family perfectly.
See, a trip to town is never wasted. I’m bringing home Chinese food and gossip.
“’Bout time you woke up. Just hit start on the microwave to heat up your soup a bit.”
Laney rolls into the kitchen just as I’m finishing my soup. “There’s also some General Tso’s chicken, but I was eating my soup first.”
“Is there anything like the sleep of a pregnant woman? Man, my head hit that pillow and I was out. Um, the soup smells wonderful.” She slides the bowl of brown, saucy chicken into the microwave and pushes some buttons. “I just collapsed on the bedspread in the Orange Blossom room. Don’t you just love how the sun comes in there? You’d think it was too bright to sleep during the day, but not so.”
She cuts up her wontons and then takes a spoonful. “That is delicious. So you checked out the Dollar Store?”
“How did you know?”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “The soup? I did a drive by, too. Looks nice.”
“Guess who the newest employee is?” She just looks up as she eats and questions me with her eyebrows. “Anna. And guess who the manager is?” I don’t even wait for raised eyebrows. “Kyle. You know, like Kimmy’s husband Kyle?”
“Really? I guess we didn’t find out why they moved here, or anything about her husband. Does he seem nice?”
“Well, he seemed like he, um, he seemed a little self-important? He’s not quite as tall as Anna…”
“Oh, so he’s one of those short men? Always trying to make you think he’s tall? Puffed out chest, head tilted back, takes himself very, very seriously, and, obviously, you should, too?”
I simply nod. It’s nice having friends you can count on to say all the impolite stuff you’re thinking. “But he seemed nice.”
She pauses with her spoon midair and rolls her eyes at me, then resumes eating when I get up.
“Ready for some chicken?” As I’m walking to the microwave, Savannah comes into the kitchen.
“What smells so good?”
“Brought home some Chinese. There’s another container of soup and plenty of General Tso’s. Get you a plate.”
Laney stretches, and as she brings her arms down from over her head, she asks my daughter, “So you’ve set your cap for our new boy Alex?”
Savannah shrugs. “He’s cute.”
She’s changed out of her short shorts and has on gray capri-length yoga pants. She’s still wearing the tank top, but it’s fine for wearing at home, especially without that lift-‘em-up, push-‘em-out bra she had on earlier. Teenagers having jobs is great in theory, and even in practice, I suppose. But since she has money to buy her own lingerie, things are harder to control. I get embarrassed doing the laundry.
“I’m going to eat on the deck,” she says as she opens the door and scoots out there.
Laney shakes her head. “Gotta be hot out there.”
“She probably figures it’s not as hot as in here with you asking questions about Alex.”
“Him having his own place is a problem,” Laney says with a sigh.
“I know. And she works right there.”
We eat for a minute or two, then Laney leans back. “Oh! Baby kicked. He must like Chinese food.”
“Still can’t believe you’re going to have a baby. And he’ll be here before we know it.”
She feels around her stomach waiting for another kick. “It doesn’t seem real to me either, and I’ve got him right here, kicking and rolling around. Shaw was really excited at first, but now…”
“What? He’s getting cold feet? Who wouldn’t?”
“I guess,” she says a bit slowly. “But he’s not great with kids. And now that I’ve been thinking about it…” She looks up at me and her big purple-blue eyes are shiny. “Neither am I. My mom pretty much raised the girls. She even moved in with us when they were born.”
Patting her hand, I say, “But that was twins. So much harder. I can’t even imagine having twin newborns.”
“But she stayed until they went to school.”
Oh. “Well, yeah, but…”
“But Mom’s too old, now. She’s worried about how I’ll do, and now she’s got me and Shaw worried. And it’s not fair to the girls. It’s their senior year. Everything should be about them.” She pushes her plate and bowl away. “This all seemed like such an adventure, but it’s forever. I don’t think I can do it.”
Laney is always the one barreling through anything with the rest of us in her wake, holding on for dear life. Every time I see her these days as she gets larger and larger, all I can think is thank God it’s not me. What do you say to the person who never needs cheering up, never needs a supportive shoulder, never has a doubt? Especially when I agree with her that she should panic?
“You know you. You’ll be fine,” I say with an extra firm pat of her hand. “Don’t really have a choice, now, right?” She looks up at me and sighs.
“Well, enough of this moaning and groaning.” She pushes herself up from the table and picks up her dishes. “I have some work to do on the books. Reservations sure aren’t good for the summer, are they? We might need to look into some advertising. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Here, just sit your dishes in the sink, and I’ll take care of them.”
“You sure?” she asks. “Appreciate you bringing lunch. I have crackers and an apple in my purse, but this is so much better.”
Busying myself with the dishes, I avoid looking in her direction until she’s heading down the hallway. Her bright yellow dress looks cheerful, and her hair looks good even after a nap. She didn’t even have big black smudges from her mascara. Hopefully, looking good will lift her spirits, because, God knows, her good friend Carolina didn’t help.
Savannah comes back inside and sits her plate on the table.
“Seriously? You see me standing here loading the dishwasher and you set your plate over there?”
She picks it up and brings it to me. “Here.”
“Put it in the dishwasher. I’m really sure you can do it.”
I know she’s rolling her eyes, but I don’t care. She bends down to slide it into place and then drops her fork into the basket. “Where’s Bryan? He posted on Facebook he’s at the golf course?”
“Yeah, he’s taking some golf lessons with Griffin up at Laurel Cove.”
“Maybe I’ll go over there and look around.” She wanders to the refrigerator, suddenly interested in the collection of papers hanging behind the odd assortment of magnets on it. “This stuff is old.”
“Well, throw it away if it�
��s for something that’s already happened. Why do you want to go up to Laurel Cove?”
“Mom, this coupon expired at the end of the year. Last year. This one, too.”
“So, shoot me. You could’ve thrown it away at any time.” I squeeze out the dishrag to wipe the table. “Have you ever been up to the clubhouse at Laurel Cove?” I ask. Yes-or-no questions work best with reluctant witnesses. At least that’s what they say on Law and Order.
“Of course. With Aston.” She’s still reading things from the front of the refrigerator.
“What’s Aston up to this summer?” The boy’s mother is a big executive in Atlanta and his stepfather is Bill Weatherman, who used to be my favorite author. Like they say about making sausage—meeting the author and seeing his mind up close kind of ruined his books for me. Aston is a bit too spoiled for my taste, but at least he doesn’t have his own apartment.
“I don’t know. He’s traveling with his sister. She’s modeling.”
“So why are you interested in Laurel Cove?” I know, it’s not a yes-or-no, but I don’t have all day.
She pauses, but makes small noises in her throat like she’s working the words out. As I wipe off the counters, again, she finally says, “Thought Alex might like it.”
I don’t look at her, matter of fact I’m facing away from her, looking down at the counter. A very clean counter, I might add. If you try to look a teenager in the eye when having a serious conversation, they run like a scared bunny. Or they turn on you like a mama grizzly bear. It’s probably best to quietly back away from them, but, yeah, where’s the fun in that? “Alex seems like a nice guy.” See, start with an open palm and a bowed head, show that you mean no danger. “But, I’m not sure he’s looking to get involved.”
She keeps reading the refrigerator, but doesn’t say anything.
“He’s heading off to college in the fall, right?” Back to a yes/no question.
I’ve turned part ways around, still trying to be non-threatening. Just an innocent conversation.
Savannah shrugs. “Yeah.” Then she flips around to face me. “Guess if he’s only got a summer here, I should probably see if he wants to go up the Laurel Cove one day this week. He does like golf, and I’ve always wanted to learn to play.” Then she’s gone.
Kids are Chancey Page 10