Bonnie lays a hand on my arm and says with a chuckle, “Probably the safest place in town, or the entire county, at this point.” She changes tacks as she tightens her grasp on my arm. “I need to show you something, and then I have that dentist appointment to leave for.”
I nod. “Yes, you don’t want to be late. Glad you were able to change it from last week.”
We walk towards the table we had set up in the back, with a couple of old dining room chairs. Here was where we planned to mark books and do our paperwork. Shannon tends to be near the front at the counter, so this way we can keep an eye on the book side of the store and the back. When Shannon is busy at her work table, then one of us makes sure to be in the front of the store. The best part is that one person can truly run the entire place in a pinch.
As we sit at the table, Bonnie pulls out two spiral bound notebooks, and as she does she whispers, “And get used to hearing ‘Peter says.’ It precedes most of her sentences now. I don’t even think Mr. Bedwell says half of the things she attributes to him.”
I whisper back. “So are they dating?”
She shrugs. “Who knows? She’s over there a lot, and I’ve heard they did go out. She talks about his house like she built it, but has she actually ever been in it?” Bonnie lifts her hands, emphasizing another shrug. Then she speaks louder. “So here, this orange notebook is for people’s requests. I started it after I had people asking me to keep a lookout for certain authors or books. And the green notebook is a list of local authors. Did you know we have several authors in the area? A gentleman from over in Woodstock came by last week to see if we would be interested in doing a book signing with him. He said he’d bring the books, and we’d get a percentage of his sales. I think that could be a wonderful way to build interest. So, I started a notebook.” She lays it down and smiles at me. “You’ll find I have a penchant for spiral bound notebooks. Guess it’s from being a school teacher.”
We stand up, and I laugh as I say, “I could use a few more notebooks in my life. My problem is I think I’ll remember everything, or I write it down in the margin of a magazine I’m reading or on a scrap piece of paper. I may take your lead and get some notebooks. Might make me feel like I’m back in school.” I check my watch. “Now you need to leave. Good luck at the dentist.”
She bustles around and as she’s leaving, Missus comes in. “Hello Shannon. Welcome home, Carolina. Bonnie? Tell Dr. Hewitt, I said ‘hello.’”
Bonnie stops halfway out the door and turns back. “How did…” is all she says before Missus, without even turning around says, “Hurry on, don’t make him wait.”
Funny, doesn’t even strike me as strange any longer that Missus knows everything. “Good morning, Missus,” I say. “Good to be home. How are things in Chancey?”
“Can we step outside?” she asks me, even though she’s looking at Shannon.
Shannon beams and answers with a song in her voice. “Why of course, Missus. Take your time. Everything is in good hands.”
Missus smiles, well, if you can call it a smile. Her lips turn up at the ends, but they are tight against her teeth and her nose looks like she might be able to shoot fire from it. Then, just because she can, she changes her mind. “Oh, Shannon dear, maybe you should step outside to give us some privacy. It’s awfully hot out there for me, don’t you think?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Shannon trills as she darts from behind the counter. “I’ll just dash next door and get an iced coffee. Can I get either of you anything? Peter says the iced coffees are extremely popular.”
Missus turns away from Shannon and merely lifts a hand in farewell.
I, however, speak up. “I’ll take an iced coffee.” Digging in my skirt pocket, I pull out a five dollar bill. “Here, I was going to get one in a bit. Hazelnut, please.”
Shannon takes my money and then waits beside Missus for an answer. She waits like one of those servants on an English gentry show. Solid and silent. Missus finally chokes out, “Nothing for me.”
Shannon bounces off. I mean really bounces – her long skirt is a ruffled peasant skirt in shades of bright blue and dark red. She’s sporting an off-the-shoulder dark red blouse that hugs her upper body. I watch on the sidewalk as she shimmies the fabric on her shoulder so that more of her upper body, and ample bosom, is exposed. She then fluffs her dark shag-cut hair to hang more in her face.
“Dear God in heaven, please tell me my son is not actually interested in that girl,” Missus says from behind me.
I turn and shrug. “Don’t know. Has he said anything to you?”
“Why would he say anything to me? I’m just his mother. I will deal with that later. Right now I need to know what is going on with your son and Anna.”
Notice “my son” doesn’t even have a name? “Missus, we just got home late yesterday. I haven’t talked to Will. Has anything happened that you know about?” Walking past her, I don’t look up. Want to hear what she has to say before I add my two cents.
“That Bonnie is a treasure, you are aware, correct?” Missus has sat down on the end of the couch and looks around. She nods as she says, “I wholeheartedly approve. Now, sit so I can talk to you before that imp returns.”
I oblige, and she continues. “Anna has been much happier this week. She has actually been pleasant to FM and me. Your son has not been around our house, but then why would they come to town when Crossings was empty and very private?” She smiles and lets her shoulders fall. “Anna mentioned how pretty the river was one morning, and that got me wondering if she hadn’t been up there in recent days. After all, they are married. Maybe they’ve just needed some alone time.” She sighs. “Possibly, my desire to make their marriage work blinded me to the need for some privacy. I am ready to entertain the idea that they should not live in mine and FM’s home. Would you agree?”
Scooting up to the edge of my chair, I agree both by enthusiastically nodding and by saying so. “Oh, yes. And I have to tell you, I think you are right about them spending time together this week while we were gone. There were two coffee cups left out on the front porch, like two people had been sitting there. And in the hall bathroom, someone had used the guest shampoo and body wash which was under the counter, but I noticed it was in the shower. Coconut shampoo and strawberry body wash.” We meet eyes and smile at the feminine scents. Then I add the most important piece of information. “And when I picked up the laundry from Will’s room this morning, on the bedside table was a copy of that book What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Along with a camisole top mixed in the bedclothes.”
When she grabs my hand, there are tears in her eyes. “Oh, Carolina, I’ve been so worried. I have an appointment at those little apartments up behind the church this morning. One is available, and after talking to you, I’m going to go ahead and put a deposit down on it. Peter agrees with us that they need a fresh, and private, start. He said he’d help them move as soon as possible.” When she notices my eyes look above her head, she asks, “Is she coming back?”
“Yes, and Missus?” I stand and look down at her. “If Shannon and Peter are supposed to be together, don’t get involved. Learn from Anna and Will.”
Missus stands up and folds her arms across her stomach. “Please do not confuse love with lust.” She turns as she hears the bells on the door.
Shannon is pushing in with both hands full. I weave past Missus to give my partner a hand. “Here, let me have those.” I take both drinks, and Shannon shifts the bag she clutched under her arm to one hand.
“Peter sent us some of the homemade chips they are working on for the Bistro. They’re still warm,” she says.
As she pushes for some space on the counter, the notepad with the design for our newspaper ad falls to the floor. When I bend to pick it up, my eyes fall to the line after line filling the previous pages. Some fancy, some block, some formal, some casual, but all sharing one theme: “Mrs. Shannon Bedwell” or “Mrs. Peter Bedwell.”
Missus laughs and takes the notepad from my han
d. She scoffs, “I guess it’s good to have dreams. Oh, and you got grease from the chip bag on your shirt.” She hands the pad to Shannon, turns on her heel, and leaves.
I take the bag of chips and open it. Holding one perfect, golden, thick-cut chip, still warm and smelling of salt and grease, I point it at the sad young woman and say, “Her for a mother-in-law? Dream, my foot. More like a nightmare. Now, have a chip.”
Chapter 36
“Oh, Laney, he’s so little. You forget how little they are!” Cayden is stretched out in my hands, sound asleep. He has tufts of dark hair and long fingers, but his helplessness is what strikes me most. Blooming Books closed at five, and I came here straight from work. I only saw him through a nursery window at the hospital before we left town, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him.
“Isn’t he the sweetest thing you ever saw?” Laney asks. She’s sitting at her downstairs table, folding clothes. “I can’t believe how much fun he is. With the twins I was just so tired and so confused about it all. This feels like I’m playing house.”
“Yeah, right. With Zoe waiting on you hand and foot.” I sneak a glance into the next room. “What are you going to do when she goes back to school?” I ask in a whisper as Cayden stirs at his mama’s voice.
Zoe speaks up from the kitchen. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m home schooled, remember? I’m doing an independent study so I can graduate from high school early and go to nursing school. So, I’ll do that in between taking care of Miss Laney and Cayden. School’s no problem for me. Kinda learn real easy. You need a refill on that iced tea, Miss Carolina?”
“No, thank you, Zoe.” I turn to her. “But, honey, don’t you miss being with friends? People your own age?”
She comes over to the table and picks ups Laney’s empty glass, carries it with her. “No more tea for you, Miss Laney, too much caffeine. And Miss Carolina, I’ve found that kids my age don’t really interest me. I’ve tried getting involved in homeschool groups or church groups, but they seem immature. I always end up in the kitchen cleaning up and talking to the adults. If the adults are interesting. Goodness knows, sometimes the adults are worse than the kids.” She returns to the table with Laney’s glass filled with ice water and sets it down on a square of paper towel for the condensation. “While y’all are good, I’m going to go put that load of clothes in the washer on the line.”
Laney rolls her eyes. “Girl, I’ve told you, there’s a perfectly good dryer sitting right beside the washer. Just put them in there. That clothesline was left from when Shaw’s parents moved out. Or maybe his grandparents. Nobody hangs clothes on the line anymore.”
Being of the clothesline persuasion, I bend down to kiss Cayden’s little fingers and stay out of the conversation. However…
“Miss Carolina hangs clothes on the line all the time. Don’t ya?” Zoe accuses me, then asks for validation.
“Actually, I do. Missed it in the suburbs where it’s basically against the law.”
Zoe lifts her chin and eyebrows in a “told-ya-so” maneuver. Then turns down the steps to the laundry room at the back of the kitchen.
With a shrug, Laney resumes folding tiny blue baby clothes and laughs. “Doesn’t she give you energy? She gives me energy. I love having her here. I’d have her here every day if I could.”
At my look, she says, “No, not just because of how hard she works, but she just seems to enjoy being here. She makes everything, more, I don’t know, happier. Even the girls are easier to get along with when Zoe’s here.”
Cayden begins to squirm, so I raise him up to nuzzle on my shoulder and neck. He smells so good. I blurt out what I’m thinking. “Jackson and I have talked about raising Will and Anna’s baby if they can’t work things out.”
Laney’s hands drop to the table in front of her, still holding a onesie. “What? It wouldn’t come to that. Surely not.”
“I don’t know. She’s pretty adamant about not wanting a baby. They’ve both even talked about giving it up for adoption, but we can’t let that happen.” I sigh and close my eyes while I hold onto Cayden tighter. “I hoped I’d feel better about it after seeing you and this sweet thing. But… No, nothing. I don’t want it to feel like a burden, but right now that’s all I’ve got.”
Laney thinks for a minute, then says, “Missus was here yesterday after church, and she said Anna and Will are doing better.”
“Yes, and I think they are, too. Guess just holding Cayden got me to thinking. Need to stop borrowing trouble! Oops.” Raising my voice startled the baby. He pulls his head back and starts crying. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie.”
Laney reaches out her hands to me. “Here, we were on borrowed time anyway. It’s time for his dinner. Can you give Zoe a ride home?”
“Sure. Can I do anything before I leave?” I ask as I stand.
Laney stands, too, slower than me, and walks with the unhappy boy toward the living room. “Thanks, but we’re good. Well, we will be as soon as this boy gets fed. Thanks for coming by. I love the quilt and the Braves outfits you gave him.”
I smile at her and wave. “Gotta get him started right. See you later, holler if you need anything.” Outside on the porch, I walk toward the back side of the house and meet Zoe coming inside with the empty clothes basket.
“Oh, there you are. Laney asked if I can give you a ride home. You ready?”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me put this in the laundry room and grab my backpack.” She swings into the house, and I walk down the side porch steps to the driveway.
The white, modernized farmhouse sits on the top a little rise, and all is green and thick in every direction. Kudzu covers one whole side of the hill on the other side of the driveway and threatens to take over a grove of old trees at the back of the property in that direction. The lawn looks like a carpet, and unlike most farmhouses, there is no garden, flower or vegetable. In many ways it reminds me more of a house in the suburbs than in this small mountain town. By time I reach my van, Zoe comes bounding out of the house and down the steps.
She jogs past me and opens the passenger door as I open mine. I grin because she does bring her own kind of energy.
“So,” I say, “you seem to be thriving in Chancey. You like it here?”
She nods and furrows her brow. “Yes, but then I find things interesting wherever I am, so that makes it’s hard to not like everywhere. You know?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No, I don’t know. But I’d like to learn. How’s Kimmy doing without you around as much?”
“Okay, I guess. House is messier and the kids not as happy. But I can’t be everywhere. Plus, she needs to get used to doing things on her own.”
“Oh, because you are working at Laney’s?” We are driving down the two-lane blacktop, and she rolls down her window letting in a blast of hot air. She takes a deep breath of it with her eyes closed and head leaned back, my question ignored.
As she presses the button and the window rises back into place, she sighs. “Don’t you just love summer?”
“I do. Not as much as fall or spring, but more than winter,” I answer.
She continues to stare out the window, and we are both silent. She’s such a talker, but now it feels like she’s not even here in the van with me. She feels far away. I reach to turn on the radio, and then stop. The silence is kind of nice. Peaceful.
At the stop sign at the foot of the hill up to our houses, I remember her comment about me hanging clothes on the line. “Hey, how did you know I hang clothes on the line?” I ask as I make the left turn.
She shrugs and seems to come back to the present. “Oh, I see them. I like walking at the train bridge. Well, not on it, more under it down at the river. I can get there through the woods from behind our house. And down there you can see up into y’all’s backyard. Just noticed you have clothes out on it a lot.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you walked down there. I’ve only been down along that part of the riverbank once. Right after we moved here.” I pull into her driveway and put t
he van in park. “Maybe I’ll come in and say hi to Kimmy.”
Zoe looks at me from outside her door, shrugs, then slams the door. She darts ahead of me and is already inside as I close my door. Up on the porch, I look in the front window and see moving shapes. As I raise my hand to knock on the door, Kimmy appears.
“Hey,” she says as she slips out the door, pulling it closed behind her.
“Just thought I’d stop in to say ‘hi.’ How are y’all?”
Kimmy laughs, “Tired. Glad I’ve got Zoe tomorrow, I can get a nap in. Money from her job is good, but she sure doesn’t get her chores here all done.”
“Maybe she needs a nap since she’s working so much,” I say. I can’t keep my annoyance hidden. The girl is still only twelve years old.
This time Kimmy really laughs, “Haven’t you noticed how she runs rings around all of us? That girl couldn’t take a nap if you nailed her to a bed. She is definitely her father’s daughter! Only other person I’ve ever met that had that much energy. Wish he were home more so it could rub off on me.” A shadow crosses her face as she says this, and with the shadow I see that her eyes are puffy and red. She notices my look of concern and sniffs as she explains. “Summer allergies. Hoped they might be better here. Well, I better get the kids fed. Don’t you know Zoe came right in the door and went straight to the kitchen. I didn’t even realize what time it was.”
She opens the door, and as Katherine pushes out it, Kimmy pushes her back in with the side of her leg. I wave at Katherine, but then the door closes and I’m alone on the concrete porch.
Back in the van, I put it in reverse and pull out of the driveway. Zoe may leave folks feeling good, but even a few minutes with any of the rest of her family leaves me feeling the exact opposite.
Chapter 37
“Don’t pick up. Have ride home.” is the text message from Savannah on Thursday afternoon that stops me as I’m crossing the front porch, headed to pick her up at the high school. The cheerleaders’ week at camp over in Alabama is done, and now there’s only two weekends before school starts. We’re not on a year-round school schedule, because that causes parents to come out of the woodwork to yell at the school board meetings and write scathing letters to the newspaper. Charles says a good school controversy helps circulation more than any ad campaign.
Kids are Chancey Page 26