“What? Give me a minute, I’m coming in,” he shouts back.
At the kitchen sink, I’m washing my hands after chopping up two onions. Jackson comes inside and wraps his arms around me as I lean against the sink. I shut off the water and snuggle into his embrace. “It’s good to have you home.”
“It’s good to be home. Now what are all these onions for?”
“Saturday dinner. I’m making football hotdogs to take to the picnic up in Laurel Cove.” I point with my chin at the counter to my left. “And there’s everything to make the two dozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Saturday lunch that I’ve been assigned.”
I turn around in his arms and lift mine over his head to rest on his shoulders. “So, Bryan showed you the garden?”
He kisses me before he answers. “Yes, he seems really in to it. Or is he just faking us out? I can’t get my head around him stalking Brittani when he seems so, I don’t know, so innocent?”
Patting his chest, I push him away a bit. “Exactly. That’s your job tonight. Figure our son out and then tell me. And Will? I heard you making plans to take him to breakfast tomorrow?”
Jackson picks up a jar of peanut butter and seems engrossed by the label, but his frown isn’t because the label says “extra-nutty.” Although as I realize that’s what it says, I frown, and curse. “Damn, I was supposed to buy smooth.” I push him to the side. “Please tell me these other jars are smooth.”
He steps out of the way, but watches over my shoulder as I look at the other three jars. “Sorry,” he says. “Looks like all nutty. But nobody will notice.”
I just roll my eyes at him. Has he met Missus? “So anyway, Will and you and breakfast?”
“Yeah, before he goes into work tomorrow. I’ll be home after that, and you have me for the day. It’ll be good to be home for a long weekend.”
As I point to a sheet of paper hanging on the refrigerator, I say, “There’s our weekend schedule, thanks to Missus. She wrote it all down for us.”
He takes it down, reads it, and mutters, “So much for sleeping in.” He holds it up and points at the word “smooth” written on the back. “Want me to just cross it out?”
“Like Missus doesn’t have a copy somewhere.”
“Well, I told Bryan to wash up and then we’d leave. I’m going to make a bigger effort to spend time with him. I didn’t travel like this when Will was his age.”
“Yeah, and look how that turned out. Did he say what time he’ll get home tonight when you talked to him?”
Jackson shakes his head. “Not really. Just said he was going down to Marietta to hang out with some old friends from high school.”
I groan. “Again? He needs to be spending time with his wife.”
“Again? So he’s been down to Marietta recently?”
“Yeah, last night. Came in really late.”
“Hmm. Okay, I’ll see what I can find out about it tomorrow.” He starts out of the kitchen, but then leans back. His eyes squinted, he asks, “Should I even ask about Savannah? Is she at least a little bit happy?”
“No, don’t ask. She’s at the lake with Alex, whom she thinks she might be in love with. So she snuck out to be with him last night, but found him with another girl – not on a date, but just ‘a girl’ – and then she caused such a scene that Peter fired her.” I snap my fingers. “And I completely forgot about her sneaking out, and I haven’t even punished her for it. Bet she wouldn’t fall in love with gardening. Hand me my phone,” I say as I hold my hand out.
Jackson picks up my phone from the table near him and lays it in my hand, grasping it as he does and looking deep into my eyes. “So, you’re saying all’s good with Savannah?” Then he pulls my hand toward him with a laugh and wraps me up. “You are Supermom, holding all this together and opening a new business.”
“Mom’s opening a new business?” Bryan asks from behind us.
We pull apart enough to see him. I say, “The bookstore? Remember?”
Bryan nods and maneuvers around us to get to the refrigerator. “Oh, that. Dad, are we leaving?” He grabs a Gatorade and says just before he takes a big gulp, “I hear Savannah got a new job.”
“How did you hear that?”
He burps. “Facebook.”
“Where?” Jackson asks.
“The Dollar Store. Can we go now?” Carrying his bottle of blue liquid he moves into the living room.
“Wait, I have your phone. How do you know what Facebook says?”
He shrugs. “Brittani emailed me on your tablet.” He plods out the front door.
Jackson pulls his keys from his pocket, his eyes squinting again. “Isn’t Brittani who he’s stalking?”
“I know! Go. Go see what else you can find out.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips and follows his youngest son’s path. I walk to the front door to wave and then remember this morning. Was that just this morning? Opening the screen door, I yell, “Oh yeah, and remind me to tell you why there’s no way on God’s green earth our daughter can keep her new job at the Dollar Store. Bye. Love you.”
“I want your bedroom,” I say to Laney as I lounge on her princess couch. I guess that’s what you call it. It’s a chair where the seat comes all the way out for your legs to extend on it. Like princesses have. Well, when they’re not on their throne. Or in their fabulous canopied bed, like where Laney is resting now, the beginning of sundown shadows creeping across the sea green comforter.
Her and Shaw’s bedroom is upstairs and stretches across the front of the house. It’s actually three rooms: the bedroom, the master bathroom, and the sitting room. My princess chair, or lounge, as Laney calls it, used to be in the sitting area, but that is now the infant nursery. Not to be confused with the actual nursery, which is down the hall. I’d seen her house downstairs, but I’d never been up here. It’s just as beautiful. All dark wood and white walls. You never forget you are in an old farmhouse, but it just doesn’t feel old. The windows look out on the acres owned by Shaw’s family, so it’s all green and peaceful. We each have trays in front of us. Laney’s is on the bed with her, while mine is on a TV tray beside my lounge. However, the plates on the trays are empty now.
“Your mother’s chicken pot pie is delicious,” I say as I stand up to gather our plates. “I’ll take these downstairs. Should I come back up? Or do you need to rest?”
“Oh, please come back up. I’m not tired, and bed rest is so lonely. Angie is taking Zoe home in a bit.” Laney’s news for the day is that she’s on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.
“Okay, I’ll be back up in a few,” I answer as I start down the hall. I stop when I hear Laney’s voice again.
“Take your time asking Zoe about her dad, since you had the run-in with him this morning. Which you have yet to tell me about.”
I smile and singsong, “I will!” Even in bed, she doesn’t miss a thing.
Setting our plates on the white granite counters, I look around for Zoe. She comes through the garage door carrying a large casserole dish covered in aluminum foil. “Hey, Miss Carolina. Putting this French toast casserole in this refrigerator for them to cook in the morning. Miss Laney’s mama has them all set for food. She and her friends have the garage refrigerator full!” She slides the white casserole dish into the bigger stainless steel refrigerator in the kitchen. “I’m trying to keep this one from being packed to the rim.”
“You are a godsend, Zoe. How do you like working for Laney?”
The girl smiles. “It’s a dream. My dad and Kimmy aren’t all that reasonable. Neither is my own ma, if I have to be truthful. You can’t ever seem to please them. Miss Laney thinks everything I do is great. Makes it easy to work for her.”
I jump in. “Looks like Savannah got a job working for your father at the Dollar Store.”
“Really?” Zoe folds her arms across her. “And that Anna is your daughter-in-law, right?”
“Right.” I pause to let her think because it looks like she’s doing some heavy thinking.
She finally lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “Some folks like working with my pa. And some don’t. And he likes working with some folks, and some he don’t.”
“Well,” I reason, “guess that’s how most of us are.”
She nods. “Yes, ma’am, except most of us don’t let everyone know when we don’t like someone.”
“But your father does?” I ask.
She looks at me, light eyes staring right into mine, and says, “Seems you already know that, right? He didn’t leave you wondering this morning, did he?”
That closes my mouth and causes me to take a deep breath before I nod in agreement. “No, you’re right. He didn’t leave me wondering.”
“And, Miss Carolina? He doesn’t change his mind.” She looks out the window at the car pulling into the driveway. “Well, there’s Angie. I’m going to go. Tell Miss Laney I’ll be back around tomorrow when the little ones are laying down for their nap after lunch.” She picks up her backpack and opens the big side door, but before she leaves, she looks back in. “And don’t worry, Miss Carolina, it’s not so bad. Dad never has liked me.”
She grins and waves as she pulls the big door closed behind her. She runs down the steps and looks like a young girl heading off to a fun outing. Not a hardworking girl having to be the adult for two families. I look around at the sparkling kitchen. Shoot, she may actually be the adult in three families.
Coming through town on my way home from Laney’s, the night sky still isn’t completely dark even though it’s after nine o’clock. I roll down my window and let the smell of honeysuckle waft in with the sounds of millions of bugs. Summer nights are the stuff songs are made of. Wish I remembered to enjoy them more.
The shops, including Ruby’s, are all closed, but there are a few people in the park. Looks like some kind of meeting letting out at the depot, and folks are taking their time getting back into their cars. As I start to turn at the end of Main Street, I see FM walking along the sidewalk on this side of the park, the opposite side from his house. Pulling into a parking spot, I call to him.
“Oh, hey, Carolina,” he says. “Where you been?”
“Went out to have supper with Laney. She’s been put on bed rest.”
He leans a hip against my car next to my open window. “I did hear that. When’s she due to have that baby?”
“End of August, but guess her doctor says if she can only make it until the end of July he would like it.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything. It’s almost like we are avoiding something, but I can’t think what. Anna and Will, maybe? But what can be said about them that we haven’t already said? The comfortable pause turns awkward. Well, at least it does for me. FM looks fine. So I blurt, “Did you hear Gertie is moving in next door to you?”
“You don’t say,” he says as he tilts his head toward me. “When?”
“Uh, tomorrow, I think.”
“Now, that makes sense.”
“Really? Why?”
He bends down to look at me closer. “Like she was going to stay up there with you forever?”
“I thought she might go home.”
“Chancey is home to Gertie Samson. She mighta left when she was barely out of those teenage years, but it’s still home.” He straightens up and looks across the hood of my van towards his home. “Well, Missus has the porch light still on so I better get on home. Better get some lovin’ before she finds out about her new neighbor!” He steps away from the van and winks as he laughs. “Don’t come a-knockin’ if the front porch’s a-rockin’! Night, Carolina.”
Now that he mentions it, my husband is home tonight, and we have our own front porch. I put the van in reverse and then head up the hill.
However, as I pull across the tracks, I see our front porch is occupied.
“There she is!” Bryan yells as he jumps up from his rocking chair. As I get to the steps, everyone on the porch stands up. There’s Will and Jackson and Savannah and… wait, just my family? No love interests or nosy neighbors or police?
“What’s going on?”
Jackson holds his hand out to me as I step up onto the porch, then he leans to kiss me. “Hey honey, we’re just moving out to the back deck. Bryan has a surprise.”
I pull back a bit and whisper, “A good surprise or a bad surprise?”
Savannah sighs. “It better be an amazing surprise.”
Jackson puts his other arm around his daughter and guides us both towards the front door. He says, “What did I tell you about playing hard to get? Guys need to hunt a woman. Let Alex hunt you.”
Will cocks his head and says, “I don’t know. Sounds like Alex is pretty good at hunting.”
Savannah punches his arm. “You don’t know anything. You don’t even know how unhappy your wife is. But she’s finding plenty of people to talk to about it.” Savannah darts out from under Jackson’s arm and dashes through the front door.
“Like I care,” Will says following his sister, until I grab his arm.
“Wait, Anna is your wife. You should care.”
He shrugs, pulls out of my grasp, and walks toward the light of the kitchen.
With a sigh I look at Jackson. “How was dinner with Bryan?”
“Come on, I’ll tell you later. Bryan’s been waiting to show you something.”
The overhead light in the kitchen is on and crowded around the sink are all three of our kids. As I get close I see what Bryan is doing. Lifting a paddle of ice cream from an old-fashioned ice cream tub. “Oh, delicious! I haven’t had homemade ice cream in a million years. Who made it?”
Bryan speaks up, “Me. Dad bought the stuff, but I put it all together with a recipe from Google.”
I stick my finger in the white drifts and take out a dip. “Where did you get the ice cream maker?”
Jackson looks at me. “It was sitting on the front porch earlier. I didn’t notice it until Bryan asked me about it when we were leaving for dinner. Didn’t you leave it there?”
“No, I’ve never seen it.” Savannah and Will both shake their heads when I look at them. Savannah picks up the top bowl stacked on the counter. “Well, it’ll probably poison us all, but what do I have to live for anyway? Give me a scoop.”
Will agrees. “Yep, me too. Dying by ice cream doesn’t sound so awful.” And he picks up the next bowl. “What flavor is it?”
Bryan scoops as he talks. “Vanilla, but there are toppings over on the table. Oreos, chocolate syrup, strawberries. We’re having an old-fashioned family ice cream party, just like the note said.”
As I hold out my bowl, I ask, “What note? Like an ad in the box?”
Jackson asks, too. “Yeah, what note?”
Bryan lays down the scoop and sticks his hand into his back pants pocket. “Here. This note. I found it in the ice cream maker.”
I roll my eyes at Jackson. With my full bowl in one hand and the folded note in the other, I go to the table and sit beside Savannah.
I pile on some of all the toppings and take my first bite.
“It’s really good, isn’t it?” Will says. “Good job, bro.”
Savannah agrees. “This is way better than the ice cream from the store.”
With the note laid on the table, I unfold it with my free hand and then read the handwritten words: “Be happy. Eat ice cream. Quit fighting and remember you are family.”
Surprisingly, tears rise up, and I sniff. “It’s not signed,” I mumble.
Bryan reaches for another spoonful of crushed Oreos and says, “Who’s fighting?”
But his question is met with silence. Will’s eyes are wide, and he’s looking at the rest of us. Savannah’s eyes match Will’s, and then she looks back at her bowl.
Jackson only nods and reaches over to squeeze Bryan’s shoulder. “Good job, buddy.”
We all eat for a few minutes, then Will starts in on a story about something that happened at work on the car lot. We laugh and eat. And, basically, do what the note instructed.
Chapter
25
“How is it none of my kids give a hoot about gardening and yours are so into it?” Susan asks as we stand in the kitchen watching Bryan instruct Grant in what needs to be done in our garden.
Shrugging, both mentally and physically, I answer. “Maybe it’s all new to Bryan. Grant grew up with your gardens.”
“So, I’ve ruined them? I got my love from gardening from my mother and grandmother. They didn’t ruin it for me.”
“But did you always love it, even as a kid?”
Susan sighs. “Yes. Just a big, ol’ dork. Anyway. You ready to go?”
We’re headed down to Ruby’s to get the day started. Although with Jackson home, I got up early for coffee before he left to meet Will for breakfast.
Last night was like a relaxing swim in a cool pond on a hot day for the Jessups. We laughed and talked and breathed. Oh, that reminds me. “Susan, do you know anything about this ice cream maker?” I walk over to the sink where the old teal plastic maker still sits.
“You mean like how to use it? Looks like it’s just a regular old-fashioned one. Pretty straightforward to use, I think.”
“No, do you know where it might’ve come from?”
She steps closer to it and looks inside it. “No, why?”
“Someone left it on the front porch with a note telling us to enjoy it and not forget we’re family.”
“Really?” She takes a closer look at it. “No, doesn’t look familiar. But would have to be someone who knows what’s been going on with y’all, right? Where’s the note?”
Moving past her, I pick it up from the kitchen table. “Here it is. Recognize the writing?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just printed, so harder to tell.” She presses her hand to her stomach. “Let’s go. I’m starving, and I’ve only had two cups of coffee.”
We get in our separate cars which are still in the early morning shadows in the front of the house. The sun isn’t fully up over the trees, but the heat isn’t waiting on the sun to arrive. By time I get in the car, the back of my neck is wet with perspiration. I swipe my hand to dry it and then ruffle my short hair. I miss having enough hair to pull into a pony tail. My thick hair feels like I’m wearing a toboggan hat.
Kids are Chancey Page 17