My head lifts when folks around me echo, “Amen.” Putting my hand on Jackson’s arm, I stop him from standing, and he leans toward me. I whisper in his ear, “You help put up the chairs, I’ll go order our lunch and get us a table.” He nods and then we both stand up.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one coming up with that plan as each couple appears to have split duties as we did.
Susan and her mother are crossing the street beside me. “Good morning. Happy Fourth of July,” I say to them. “Susan, didn’t see you last night up at the fireworks.”
She tugs on the front of her short linen jacket. The pale yellow makes her tan look even darker, and her ponytail isn’t the jerked-up affair I’m used to. It’s smoothed back into a simple gold clasp. She rolls her eyes. “Didn’t know where to sit, with the Laurel Cove people or with y’all. So just skipped it and went over to Laney’s. We got the shower all planned out.”
“Y’all have a golf cart?”
Her mother laughs. “Of course they have a golf cart. Everybody in Laurel Cove has a golf cart.”
Susan steps ahead of us a bit with a jerk of her head. “What is the big deal about having a golf cart? You can buy one, you know. They sell them to anyone.”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “I guess they do. But I’ve just never known anyone that had one. So when’s the shower? And how’s Laney feeling?”
We slow down as we step up onto the sidewalk outside the Bistro. “Shower is Saturday afternoon,” Susan says. “I want to have it catered, but Mother insists that isn’t how we do things.”
“Well, it’s not.” Mrs. Troutman puts her foot down, literally and figuratively, as she stomps her white pump lightly. She has on a soft green and pink dress, and her hair is done in her weekly style, fresh from her standing Friday appointment at Beulah Land. Friday hair appointments are left in wills in small towns across the south.
She continues. “And we are not eating on paper plates at my daughter’s shower. If you don’t want to wash a hundred luncheon plates and a complete punch service, then invite fewer people. And there will not be men present.” She gives a tiny shake of her head—her hair does not move—and walks away from us.
Susan screws up her mouth and snorts through her nose. “There’s the problem. Mother wants an old-fashioned shower, Laney wants a party, and I want to finally get folks off my back about the house.”
I think for a moment. “What if we have two showers? First one can be like your mother wants with her friends, then one for the rest of the folks and the men, later?” We get in the line, which is snaking around the inside of the store.
Susan thinks while I add up how much food I need to order. She pulls her phone out of her skirt pocket and starts pushing and sliding things on the screen. “You know, that could work. Let Mother have the shower she wants to have and then a pool party-pig roast-shower later. Can we have Mother’s shower at Crossings?”
“What? Just do them both at your house,” I say, now completely distracted from the addition going on in my head.
“But your house fits my mother so much better than our place. It’s so, not old-fashioned. Plus, it would be easier on Laney instead of one long day. And my mother and her friends will do all the work. We’ll make it Sunday afternoon so the bookstore will be closed. A week from today.” Her phone dings, and she looks down. “Oh, Laney likes that idea better, too. She says you are an absolute doll for thinking of it.”
She slides her phone back in her pocket and turns to the counter we’ve made our way to. “Hey, Alex. I need eight sandwiches to go. Two without peppers, one with extra onions, four orders of the Italian pasta salad, four with bags of chips, which I have here. No drinks, but eight cannoli.” To me, she adds, “Love this idea of an Italian meal. Oh, hey Angie. You working here now?”
Angie laughs, but looks around nervously. “Just on Sundays. I’m still working at the Pig.” Then I see why she looked around nervously. Alex reaches over and kisses her cheek. Not just a peck, either. She blushes and looks at him through lowered lashes. Oh no, Alex and Angie? She should be nervous. Savannah will kill her.
“What can I get you, Mrs. Jessup?” Alex asks. As he asks, he bumps Angie with his hip, and she giggles.
Savannah and Alex and Angie. Susan and Laney and a baby shower at my house. Being a grandma, possibly a very hands-on grandma. There’s no room in my brain for a lunch order. Susan prods me. “Carolina, you’re getting lunch, right?”
My eyes lock on Susan, then shift to Alex. “I’ll have the same as Susan ordered.” I have no idea what she ordered, but it’ll be fine. Of course it will be fine. Susan did it.
We get our sacks, and as I get my bags paid for and back outside, I see Jackson has us a table. Me and him. Yep, kids are nowhere in sight. That’s right, they aren’t eating lunch with us today.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of food,” Jackson says looking in the bags. “Where’s our drinks?”
I throw up my hands, “Guess Susan didn’t need drinks since they’re going up to Laney’s.”
“Is this Susan’s order? I thought I saw her leaving.”
“She did. No, this is ours. Believe me, I paid for it. I messed up. Got confused. Guess we’ll just eat Italian Beef sandwiches all week.”
He gets up. “Kids will eat them later. I’ll go get us something to drink. Water okay with you?”
“Sure.” I open my sandwich and lean over to keep from dripping the fragrant juices on me. Um, this is delicious. I tear apart a piece of red cherry pepper and spread it around a bit better on the sandwich. Suddenly the sky opens up and rain pounds down. I wrap my sandwich up, grab the bags and dart to stand underneath the overhang. Setting the bags at my feet in the couple feet of dry space, I take another bite and feel the juice squeeze down the side of my mouth. Others jockey around in the small area like I am, but most dash for cover inside the store. By the time Jackson finds me, almost all my sandwich is gone. I exchange what’s left of my Italian Beef for the water bottle he offers.
“Uh, thought you’d come inside. It’s pouring out here.”
“Yep, it is. But I, well, I don’t know. I was hungry. Plus, I got soaked before I could gather everything up. Take a bite, it’s really good.”
So, he does take a bite. And another, then the final one. He leans against the dark warm brick, still soaked with Georgia heat. The rain is solid, only allowing us to look through it in part. The white gazebo, green leaves, colorful flower garden, even as a car splashes down the street, we only have a vague idea of what we’re looking at. Like those impressionist paintings I like so much, where you can’t really see what you’re seeing. Scenery through a rain-soaked window.
Jackson leans over and kisses my cheek and whispers into my hair, “Want to share another sandwich?” Not only is the rain a visual curtain, it’s so loud I can’t hear any other sounds, except my husband’s voice in my ear.
I laugh and turn to find his lips with mine. “Why, Mr. Jessup, you read my mind.”
So we lean on the warm brick, let fragrant beef juice run down our chins and remember what’s important. Oh, and we laugh. A lot.
Chapter 31
Steam rises from the street as I cross over to Blooming Books. There are puddles and sunshine everywhere. Rain all yesterday and last night left the puddles; the sunshine showed up all on its own this morning and is doing its best to send the puddles on their way. A day stuck inside has me feeling happier than I know I should feel. Nothing has been resolved with Will and Anna. Savannah retreated to her tower room and refused entry to others. (Like I wanted to go up there.) On the bright side, Bryan didn’t stalk anyone yesterday, as he was in our basement playing video games all day. Jackson and I had a wonderful rainy day together, but he left this morning for the job site in South Georgia. And there is still a baby shower at Crossings on Sunday. Still, I’m happy.
And I have a good chance of staying that way since I brought my own cup of coffee from home and do not have to go into Ruby’s or the Bistro t
his morning.
“Hey Shannon,” I say as I set my purse down behind the counter. “Mmm, smells wonderful in here. What is that?”
From her work table, Shannon looks around the tall bucket of flowers in front of her and answers, “Stock. Just got in a new order. Finally done with red, white, and blue for a while. Patty and Andy are home. Hear them walking around upstairs?”
“Speak of the devil,” I say as footsteps echo, coming down the back stairs. “Hey guys. You’re home!”
Andy strides toward the front of the store with Patty not far behind. He stops and puts his hands on his hips. “This place looks great. Gotta get over there and see what my place looks like.”
Patty has on a flowered dress, hot pink with big white flowers on it.
I exclaim, “Look at you!”
She blushes as she walks over to where we meet for a hug. “You like my dress?”
“Yes, I do. It looks great on you.” And as I look closer, I prove to be even more right than my initial assessment. Its scoop neck isn’t low, but lower than a T-shirt neck like she usually wears. The dress hugs her chest, but then flares out around her knees. The sleeves are tight and come to just above her elbows. Her skin has a little color, although it’s more pink than tan, and her haircut, really just a trim, from the wedding is still holding its shape. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a dress.”
She shrugs. “Because I don’t have any.”
Andy comes up behind her and hugs her around her waist. “You used to not have any,” he says. “Now you have a whole closet full.”
Patty giggles and bends her head to the side to rub against his bearded chin. “Andy likes me in dresses.”
Shannon says, a tad louder than necessary in my opinion, “But do you like wearing dresses? You should wear what you like.”
Andy, Patty, and I all turn to stare at her. Andy takes a step back from his wife and pulls her around to face him. “Do you like them? I want you to be happy. I’m fine with whatever you wear.”
Patty leans and kisses him. “Of course I like my new dresses. Shannon’s just, well, she’s just asking.”
Shannon focuses on cleaning the flower stems in front of her and says, “I was just asking. No need to jump on everything I say.”
Patty and I share a look that ends with us rolling our eyes. With his long strides, Andy is already at the front door, ready to go.
“Patty, come on! I can’t wait.” He sweeps open the front door. He yells “See y’all later” as the door closes behind them.
“I have so many books to go through,” I say as I meander through the shop. Shannon doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking. “People keep dropping them off. Surprising how many are current and in really good condition.” Still silence.
Finally, I walk right up to her work table and stand there sipping my coffee. Shannon has on her work apron and bright purple Crocs. Buckets of flowers surround the area, while cut stems and stripped off-leaves surround her feet and her workspace on the table.
Maybe I should be a little more direct. “What’s wrong with you?”
She acts like she didn’t hear me, but I have three teenagers, I can wait her out. Besides, the alternative is to start working.
“My stepfather isn’t taking us on vacation this year. He’s just taking Mama. I needed a week at the beach. I counted on it. He’s such a bully just changing everything without asking anyone else involved.” She is so mad she stripped off a white blossom instead of a leaf.
“So, it’s usually a family thing?”
She sighs and stares at me. “Of course. Every year. That’s what families do, go on vacation together. I can’t afford a week at the beach, and neither can my sister and her husband, I mean they have three children. Plus, my mother likes to be with her grandkids on her vacation. That’s the only reason she even goes to the beach!”
“Your mother and stepfather were in here Saturday for the open house. They seem real nice.” The couple isn’t that much older than me and Jackson, and both were so proud of Shannon. “Matter of fact, you’ve never referred to him as your stepfather, I didn’t know.”
“He raised us. Mama and he married when we were preschool age.” She drops her arm, and her hand full of flowers settles onto the table along with her sigh. “I just thought he saw us as his real children. But a real father wouldn’t do this. Leave his kids at home while he goes on vacation.”
“Sure he would, if the kids are adults. I mean, it has to stop at some point, right?”
She stares at me, mouth open and eyes incredulous. Eyes filling with tears. “That is so mean. Where could I afford to go on vacation? And by myself? And who would watch my sister’s kids so we can go out and she can enjoy herself? And he doesn’t care one thing about what Mama wants.” She shakes her head and then wipes her eyes. “It’s really going to be hard living with them, now.” She sniffles as she goes back to working on her flowers. “I’d move out, but where to? I just never thought he could be so mean to my Mama and me.” She turns her back toward me, so I go back to my work area.
I couldn’t wait to get out of my parents’ home. I love them, but after college I would’ve worked two jobs, heck, three jobs, to keep from moving back home. As I pull an empty box over to the stacks and boxes of donated books to begin sorting, I wonder why. Why did I resist moving home so much? Have we made it too easy for Will to move home? It’s been such an upheaval with the wedding, the baby, and problems with Anna that we’ve not set any rules or looked at the future seriously. Maybe we’re making it too easy for him and Anna to give up on each other.
If only I thought they could make it together. If only it appeared they were something more to each other than excuses. If only they weren’t pregnant. If only I knew if we were helping them or hindering them. Flipping a page on the tablet of paper I’m supposed to be listing books on, I start a different list.
Rent, food, transportation, insurance. Jackson and I have to talk. We didn’t mention any of this to Will, but he can’t just assume we’re going to take care of everything. But then, why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t he be just like Shannon, assuming things will go on as always?
For the second time today, my thinking about a person causes them to appear.
“Hey, Mom?” Will says over the tinkling of the door chimes. “Where are you?”
Standing, I wave and then walk towards the front. Will has dropped onto the couch. However, he only gets part of my attention as Rose is standing beside the couch.
“Hi Rose. Will, what are you doing? Don’t you have work today?” I say attempting to keep my voice calm. Why is he with Rose?
“I don’t go in until noon. Rose wanted to see your shop, so I offered to bring her by.”
“This is wonderful,” the young woman says. “Books and flowers. Oh, hi,” she says as Shannon steps over from her worktable. Rose strides to my business partner on those long legs and puts her hand out. “I’m Rose.”
Shannon does a look up and down the tall, slim young woman with her long cotton shorts and sleeveless tank top. I know that lift of Shannon’s chin, defense mode. It doesn’t make one any taller or thinner, but really, what else are you going to do? “Hello, I’m Shannon. Co-owner and florist of Blooming Books.”
Oh yeah, lift chin and brag. She really is cleaning out the arsenal.
Will grins and says, “Hey Shannon. Y’all, this place looks amazing.” He jumps up and goes to Rose. “Let me show you out back. These buildings are ancient.” He places his hand on the small of her back and stands entirely too close as they maneuver around the shelves and tables. Bright sunlight comes in as he opens the back door and they step out. Then it’s dark again.
Shannon tips her head at me and opens her mouth. No words come out at first, then she asks, “Who is she?”
“A friend. Her grandmother lives up towards Laurel Cove. LaVada? I introduced them at the fireworks Saturday.”
When a flash of light from the back says they’ve come back ins
ide, we both turn to look that direction. They look like a matched set. Tall, thin, young, healthy. What in the world is going on?
Shannon’s voice is a bit higher, a bit more innocent. “So, Will, how’s Anna liking her new job? Must be nice to have two incomes in the family now.” Oh, yeah, lift chin, brag, and then drop an inconvenient truth bomb. No short dumpy woman’s arsenal is complete without that.
Will ignores her—the only weapon a man needs. Didn’t hear it, didn’t happen. He grins at me. “We’re going to get some coffee. Can I bring you one back, Mom?”
“No, thanks. Brought some from home.”
He opens the door and again places his hand on Rose’s back. “Okay, see you later. Bye, Mom. Bye, Shannon.”
Rose semi-turns and says, “Shop is lovely and nice to meet you, Shannon.” Then they are walking down the sidewalk. Heads tilted in towards each other, long legs matching strides.
I mumble. “I’m going to kill him.”
Shannon harrumphs. “You won’t get the chance if Missus is at Ruby’s.”
I brace myself on the counter. “Oh shoot, surely he’s not stupid enough to go into Ruby’s acting like that. I figured they’d go to the Bistro.”
“They didn’t head towards the Bistro,” Shannon adds as she steps to the front window and looks down the sidewalk. “Don’t see them.”
“Shoot! I’ll be right back.” I rush out the door and toward Ruby’s. Possibly it could be a disservice not raising our children in a small town; they don’t understand how things work. That everyone is watching you and grudges formed in a minute can last years. Or that everything is personal. Everything.
At the door of Ruby’s, I slow down and step in as calmly as possible after running for the first time in… well… running. Will and Rose are in a booth on the side, and Ruby is pouring them coffee. Wait, Ruby doesn’t come out from behind the counter unless Libby isn’t here, but Libby is at the next table watching them. That said, Ruby does come out if there is something she personally needs to handle.
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