Kids are Chancey

by Kay Dew Shostak

  “A nurse? Then it’s like I’m helping your career path.” Laney is already breathing slower, and her cheeks aren’t as red.

  I hate to throw cold water on this, but I speak up. “But won’t Kimmy miss you helping with the kids?”

  “Probably. But Daddy told her she had to get off her tail and take care of them. He’s been after me to get a job, and now I’ve found one. Daddy says we all have to pull our own weight. However, I will need a ride out to your house. Found out you live outside of town a ways?”

  “You sure seem to have found out a lot to have only been here a few days,” Laney says again.

  “I listen. And when I want to know something, I ask.”

  I stand up and say, “I’m sure between the girls all driving, Savannah included, we can work out getting you out to Laney’s.” I turn to face my friend. “Are you thinking you need her now, or is this for after the baby comes?”

  “I’m thinking now. Shaw and my girls are almost worthless around the house. Zoe, you can start as soon as you want.”

  Inwardly, I roll my eyes at the thought of Shaw and the twins being “worthless,” it’s more like they quit trying years ago to please the queen. Laney always thinks her way is the only way, unless her mama’s way is involved. And then her mama’s way should be at least considered, out of respect. Shaw and the girls know they can’t do things the way she does, so they don’t do anything. However, this pregnancy and Zoe might be Laney’s time for reckoning. As they say, her “come to Jesus meeting.”

  Zoe stands up and then reaches down to shake Laney’s hand. “Thank you much, Miss Laney. I’ll work real hard and do whatever you need. I need to get home, now, though. Me and Kimmy are taking the kids to the Lake Park today. You let me know when you want me.” At the front door, she looks back and grins. “This is exciting, isn’t it?”

  We say “bye” and after we hear her run across the porch and down the steps, Laney laughs and says. “Is it just me, or does she just make you feel better?”

  I look out the window and see the girl running across the railroad tracks. As she turns to look down the tracks, her face is in full view. Joy. That’s what she exudes. Joy.

  Hmm, didn’t realize it was so rare.

  Chapter 17

  I know nothing about country clubs. I know nothing about golf. Shouldn’t there be an age where you become comfortable being uncomfortable? When I was younger, I thought adults knew how to handle themselves. So… when does that happen?

  Last week when I came here for lunch with Susan and her friends, I thought that was it. I’d gone in and had lunch and not embarrassed myself. Now I see that was a cakewalk. The dining room has a separate entrance with a striped canopy where Susan was waiting to show me where we were going to have lunch. Now I’m supposed to pick Bryan up somewhere at the club, and I’m lost.

  First of all, there are lots of men on this side of the club. Men who look important, busy, focused. There are signs pointing to things and places, but I don’t see any signs saying, “Parent pick-up” or even better, “Carolina, go this way.” I’ve called Bryan’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

  I pull up to the stop sign and circle back into the parking lot. Back at the entrance, I turn right and pull up next to the dining room doors with the green striped canopy. Maybe a waitress or the hostess can tell me where I need to go. I’m not even thinking about how much I’d rather talk to a waitress than a man driving a golf cart in a pair of salmon-colored pants with little white turtles on them.

  The quiet of the afternoon here on top of the mountain is so pleasant after being in town all day. The grass, golf club green, is inlaid upon a backdrop of dark gray mountains. The white of the fences and trim on the river stone buildings stands out like it’s glow-in-the-dark paint when the sunshine breaks through the scattered clouds. There’s a steady breeze, and that’s the only sound.

  Between getting ready for the Fourth of July festivities and Gertie’s contractors at Andy’s place, things were noisy downtown. Even inside the bookstore, things were noisy as Gertie’s hired a crew to move Andy’s junk out. Hunched over the laptop Gertie provided us, I stayed out of the way of the movers and entered all the book titles for a solid three hours. The movers’ voices and banging of the junk became a dull background noise. But it was still noise.

  Pulling open the door to the dining room, there is suddenly noise. Loud noise. Familiar noise which I look farther inside to find. Oh no.

  Savannah stands near the door, against a table, and she’s yelling. This is not normal. She’s always the cool one. The one who doesn’t care. Has “whatever” on a loop. As I step closer to the booth, I see who is causing this loss of cool—Susie Mae. And Alex. Susie Mae is sitting on Alex’s lap. Worst of all? Susie Mae and Alex have an overabundance of cool. They are looking at Savannah how she usually looks at, well, me.

  “Hey, y’all,” I say as I step up and put my hand on my daughter’s arm.

  Savannah whirls at me, follows my eyes back down to the occupants of the table, then leaves. I wave at Alex and Susie Mae, as I follow her back outside.

  “Honey, what’s going on?”

  “She is such a tramp. Alex was coming up here with me, but he came up earlier as I had to work. I have that whole work schedule thing, and he just comes and goes at the bistro whenever he wants. He was supposed to be up here putting, or golfing, or whatever, but you see what he’s doing. She’s such a sneak! I’ve had it with her innocent act.” She grits her teeth and looks around. Her arms are folded and pressed against her chest. She tosses her head and stares at the door we just came through.

  She snorts. “Where is he? He should’ve followed me out of there.” She wills the door to open and for Alex to dash out and beg her forgiveness. But that doesn’t happen. Honestly? Alex doesn’t strike me as the begging sort.

  “Honey,” I begin. “I don’t think he sees you and him as a real couple. I don’t think he wants to be a part of a couple.”

  “Mom. You don’t understand.” She dismisses me with a wave of a hand, a roll of her eyes, and by turning her back on me as she pulls open the big wooden door. It slowly closes behind her, and I have plenty of time to follow her inside. However…

  Really? Do I really have to explain why I turn in the other direction? I’ll play twenty questions with a dozen men wearing a full 64-crayon assortment of colored pants and short-sleeved shirts than go back in that place.

  Around the corner, I see there’s no need to ask anyone anything. Bryan is sitting on a bench with Grant. They both have cans of Coke and are eating orange cracker sandwiches from little packs.

  They see me, collect their stuff, and meet me at the end of the patio where the benches are.

  “Want a cracker?” Bryan asks.

  “Sure,” I say. Both boys are sweaty and red-faced. “Looks like y’all got some sunburn today. How was the golf lesson?”

  Bryan answers, orange crumbs flying from his mouth as he talks. “Okay. I’m not any good, but Grant is. Can you take us to the lake?”

  “I guess. Is that okay with your folks, Grant?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Dad’s probably working late again, and Mom’s at the Lake Park already.”

  “What about Susie Mae? I saw her in the dining room here.”

  Of course, I’m stupidly trying to get information out of middle school boys. I’m reminded of that fact when they both just shrug. As they are getting in the van, Savannah’s car pulls out of the parking lot, and she heads down the mountain back towards Chancey. I stall leaving when I see Alex and Susie Mae leave the dining room and get in a car I don’t recognize. Alex gets in the driver’s seat, and when they pull out of the parking lot, they don’t head down the mountain. They turn in the opposite direction. The direction of Susie Mae’s house. Her empty house.

  “Grant?” I get the attention of his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Do you have your swimming suit?”

  Bryan answers. “He’s just going to wear one of min
e.”

  “I’m not sure you have a clean one. Maybe we should run by your house and get yours, Grant. I’ve never seen your new house.”

  Grant nods. “Okay. I can get my goggles, too.”

  I don’t see if he nods again. I’m backing out of my parking space. Don’t want to give Susie Mae and Alex enough time to actually get anything started before we interrupt.

  Now what do I do? Grant has his bathing suit. His towel. His goggles. I’ve been given a tour of the house by an increasingly angry Susie Mae. Alex has the big screen TV on and is comfortable on the huge leather couch. He’s got nowhere to go and all day to get there. Bryan has actually honked the horn at me, which should make me dash out of this elaborate glass and metal front door – which stands in front of an eight-foot-tall wooden door with more glass insets – and snatch my youngest child baldheaded. But I act like I don’t hear the horn.

  Susie Mae was embarrassed when we pulled up. She fell all over herself helping Grant get his things and was graciousness itself as she showed me the living room area. The anger built as I pushed to see “everything.” Alex, completely cool, settled in like he owns the place. A good Southern boy, whose mama I could report to, would’ve excused himself and hightailed it down the mountain. However, Alex is perfectly fine waiting me out.

  After all, how long can I pretend to ignore the honking?

  Susie Mae slowly, deliberately (apparently she’s forgotten I do know her mama), squeezes me out the front door. As I storm to the car, I glare at my son who is no longer even looking towards the house and me, he’s just laughing with Grant and signaling Morse code with the horn.

  “Stop that! Right now!” I yell, opening the van door.

  His hand slides off the steering wheel. “You were taking forever. It’s hot out here.”

  Starting the car, I also pull my phone out of my purse and dial Laney. When she answers, I step back out onto the slate driveway as Bryan exclaims, “Mom!”

  I turn toward him and say, “Don’t you dare touch that horn.” Then say into the phone, “Hey, I’m up at Susan’s.”

  “Oh my gosh, you’re seeing it before I get to see it? How is that fair? You didn’t think of including me in on the invite?”

  “Wait! Listen to me. Susan’s not here,” I explain.

  “Great idea. She won’t invite us, we’ll just show up and look around. I mean, she never locks her doors. I’ll be right there.”

  “No! Listen to me. Susan’s not here, but Susie Mae and Alex are. Alone. Well, they’ll be alone once I leave with the boys.”

  She hardly even pauses, Laney always gets exactly what’s going on. Makes life so much easier when I don’t have to explain things. “But isn’t he supposed to be Savannah’s beau?”

  “Well, as much as another person can belong to another, I mean, I guess. Kind of. But that’s not really the problem. It’s that…”

  “Oh, I know what the problem is. You take me to my niece right this minute.”

  I hold up a finger to the boys in the car and ignore their exaggerated looks of betrayal, then turn back to the house. Susie Mae has opened both big doors before I get there and meets me on the porch.

  “You called my mother! Oh my gosh. I’m allowed to have friends over. I’m not a baby!”

  I hand her the phone, and she begins to argue until she realizes it’s her Aunt Laney. Her smugness drains away, and she only listens for a moment before handing me back the phone. Before I can say anything to Laney, Susie Mae has leaned back inside the house and is talking to Alex.

  Lifting the phone to my ear, I hear, “It’s handled. Now, tell me about the house.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Doesn’t matter. If Susan had told me a long time ago that Susie Mae was boy crazy, I could’ve helped then, too. Just takes one to know one. Now, the house?”

  “Can’t now. I’m taking the boys to the Lake Park. Thanks. I just wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “Of course not. You think like a good girl. That’s not really helpful in these types of situations. Call me later.”

  Maybe Laney should get one of those car magnets: “1-800-BAD-GIRL – When your daughter turns into a skank, we know what to do!”

  Chapter 18

  “We were coming down the mountain and there was an ambulance with lights flashing at Miss LaVada’s house. You know, that little white cinderblock place with the amazing rose bushes?” I say all this while handing Susan the things the boys forgot as they jumped out of my van and ran straight for the lake.

  Susan asks, “How do you know LaVada Webster?”

  “I stopped one day to look at the roses, and she came out. Sweet lady. Didn’t know her last name is Webster. Anyway, she had some kind of seizure, and they’re taking her to the hospital and she was alone. Thought I’d go until her granddaughter can get there. Does she have other family around here?”

  Susan shakes her head. “No, their son moved out west somewhere. Boys are fine here with me.” She looks down at the towel in her hand. “That was nice of you to go by the house and get Grant’s things. I figured he’d just wear one of Bryan’s suits.”

  “Well, I, uh…” With the excitement of the ambulance, I hadn’t had time to decide if I’d tell on Susie Mae. Kind of thought I’d let Laney do it.

  Susan holds out a hand to stop my stammering. “Look, I know. I should’ve had you up to the house before now. Only myself to blame that everyone is curious.” She shrugs. “Heck, I’da been curious, too.”

  Her face has gone from flushed, to splotchy, to hot-looking. Oh, wow. She’s embarrassed. “No, Susan. It wasn’t that—” However, before I can explain, she waves me on.

  “Go on to the hospital. It’s all good here. Thanks for bringing the boys!” She says all this as she turns and fast-walks into the pavilion.

  Back in the van, without the boys and their noise, the tour of the house comes back to me. During the tour, I was so preoccupied with Susie Mae’s situation—and the horn-honking—I wasn’t paying attention. But now… Oh. My. Word.

  The house was nothing like what I expected. I was picturing the big houses in Marietta where we used to live. The suburbs northeast of Atlanta are full of upper middle class people who have houses that show it. That’s what I expected, but Susan and Griffin’s house is way beyond even those. It was maybe the biggest house I’ve ever been in. And not only was there a pool, but a pool cottage. And a full outdoor kitchen. Wait.

  What exactly is Griffin doing for the power company?

  Having never been to the area hospital, I’m very surprised. Very pleasantly surprised. Our little hospital is so easy to maneuver. My first shock was parking right beside the emergency room – there’s just a parking lot. With lots of empty spaces. I never spent much time in Atlanta-area hospitals, but I do know you pay to park in huge concrete parking garages and then you walk and walk and walk. Just to get to the outside doors. Then inside, walk and walk and walk, mostly because you’re lost. They do things like paint the floor different colors for different departments, but, uh, seems like red would be cardiac, not green? And blue makes me think of baby boys, but not baby girls so that can’t take me to the maternity ward, right?

  So, surprised but happy, I park right near the ER entrance. And there’s no meter or parking attendant, I guess that means parking is free? Really? I walk in, and there’s a sweet lady in a pink sweater sitting at a little desk. Before I can tell her why I’m there, she asks. And calls me “honey.”

  “Honey, what can I do for you today?”

  “My friend was just brought in, Mrs. Webster. I just wanted to see—”

  The little gray-haired lady jumps up and waves me past the desk. “Oh, yes, we have Mrs. Webster in Exam Room 3. Let me take you right back there.”

  “But I don’t need to actually go back there right this…” However, I’m following the pink sweater down the short corridor. She stops and knocks on the wall beside a beige curtain.

  “Mrs. Webster? I have a frien
d of yours here. Oops, I didn’t get your name, honey,” she says as she turns to me.

  “Carolina Jessup.” She’s pulled back the curtain, and I can see LaVada. “Hi, Miss LaVada.”

  “Oh, it’s you. I thought I saw you when they were getting me in the ambulance. But then I thought if I was having a stroke I mighta imagined that! Come in. Come in.”

  Holding back the curtain for me to pass, the hospital volunteer (I see that on her nametag now), pats my arm and whispers, “I’ll bring the sign-in sheet back for you to sign in. Supposed to do that when you first come in, but it’ll be okay this time.”

  “Okay. Thanks, I’ll remember next time.”

  She grins and squeezes my arm. “Thanks, honey.”

  In the bed, LaVada beams at me. “You are just the sweetest thing ever! Coming all the way here to check on me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure when your granddaughter would be able to get here.” While I’m saying that, she directs me to the chair beside her bed.

  “Sit there. Yes, my granddaughter was in class, and I wasn’t going to give them her phone number until class was over, but apparently she’s put it on all my emergency forms. Sweet girl. This is nice, now we can visit.”

  “How are you feeling? Have you seen the doctor?”

  “It was just a spell. Got lightheaded and fell. Happens when my roses are in bloom.” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “But tell me about you. What are you up to today?”

  “Wait, why when your roses are in bloom?” I’m thinking maybe I need to get a doctor or nurse in here. She’s not making sense, and isn’t that a sign of a stroke? There’s that tongue rolling thing, but… yeah, I don’t remember what I’m supposed to look for with the whole tongue thing either.

  “When the roses are blooming, I forget stuff. I get busy cutting them, finding enough containers to put them in, changing the water in the vases, and just sitting out there with them.” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks down at her hands, crossed on the white hospital sheet.