“But you were talking about her,” Leah insisted, pointing to me. If she were younger, I would have thought this was a case of a child’s innocence creating a foot-in-mouth moment for her mother. But Leah knew better, and there was nothing innocent about her right now. The troublemaking glint in her eye said it all.
I glanced at Beth, whose face burned vivid red, as did Irene’s. The only one who wasn’t blushing was me.
“Leah,” I said sternly, “I’m surprised at you. You shouldn’t ever repeat publicly the things your mother told you in private. It’s rude, and I think you know better.”
“I’m sorry,” the kid mumbled, her eyes cast down to the ground.
“Thank you, but I’m not the one you owe an apology to, am I?”
Her little eyes filled with tears. She looked up at her mother.
“I’m sorry, Mommy!” she said, throwing her arms around her.
Beth gave her daughter a hug and then looked at me curiously over Leah’s shoulder.
“Good,” I said. “Now that that’s done, I don’t mind answering your question. Why don’t you sit down for a minute.”
Leah seized the moment and plopped on the floor in front of me. In a way, I was glad this had come up. Loving a rich man was always going to be suspect, even when it was genuine. We might as well address the issue that was on everyone’s mind.
“Leah, I’m going to tell you a little story.”
“Okay.”
I glanced at Maddie, who had planted herself on the stairs.
“You can join us if you want, Maddie.”
“I’m okay. I can listen from here.”
I took a deep breath and then exhaled, silently asking God for wisdom.
“A long time ago, when I was just a teenager,” I said, “I fell in love with a guy named Bryan Webber. He was everything I ever wanted in my life. He was sweet and good-hearted. He loved God. He treated me with kindness and respect. He was funny. He was smart. He was handsome. He was my dream come true.”
“Was he rich?”
“He was only sixteen,” I said, smiling. “I suppose he might’ve become rich one day, if he’d really wanted to. Bryan and I fell in love. Eventually, we grew up and got married. We were very, very happy together. Then one day, in a terrible accident, Bryan died.”
“Died?” asked Leah.
“That’s so sad,” Maddie said from the stairwell, her eyes wide.
“It was very sad,” I replied. “I cried so hard I didn’t think I would ever stop crying. Have you ever been that sad?”
“I cried like that when our cat Misty died,” Leah said.
“Me too,” Maddie echoed. “Now we have Muffin.”
“I was so sad,” I continued, “I didn’t even want to talk to anybody. I got a lot of money from my insurance, so I used some of it to buy a new house far away from home, way out in the woods beside a river. I didn’t want anybody to bother me.”
“You must’ve been really sad.”
“I was. I knew I would never love anyone again as much as I loved Bryan Webber. For a long time I wished I had died too.”
“I bet you were lonely,” Maddie said.
“I was lonely. But then, after a while, I got a new job and I started to make some friends. I got to know your Uncle Tommy, just as a friend. And you know what happened?”
“What?” Leah asked, her attention rapt.
“I realized that he was sweet and good-hearted. He loved God. He treated me with kindness and respect. He was funny, he was smart, and he was handsome.”
“Just like Bryan!”
“Except he wasn’t just like Bryan. He was very different, in fact. But for some reason, Tom fell in love with me. And though it was really, really scary for me, I finally had to admit that I loved him too.”
“Why was that scary for you?” Maddie asked.
“Because she was afraid he might die too, stupid!” Leah responded.
“Not just that,” I said. “When you love something and then you lose it, it’s hard to love again. It’s about trust. It’s about letting God be in control of your life instead of you. Do you understand?”
Leah nodded solemnly.
“Let me ask you a question,” I continued. “Do you like it when your Uncle Tommy comes for a visit?”
“Yes!” both girls said emphatically.
“Do you like the Barbies he brings to you when he comes?”
“Yes!”
“If he didn’t bring anything, would you still be glad to see him?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
They looked at each other and then looked back at me.
“Because he’s fun.”
“Because he plays with us.”
“Because he makes corny jokes.”
“Because he takes us places.”
“But what about all of his money?” I pressed. “Isn’t that why you love him?”
“No,” Leah said, leaning back on her arms. “We don’t love him for his money.”
“Well, neither do I,” I said. “Now, I’ll admit, his money lets us do fun things. His money makes me feel good because sometimes I get to give it away to special places.”
“Like Family HEARTS?”
“Like Family HEARTS. But money is one thing. Love is something else entirely. I don’t ever want you to doubt this: I love your Uncle Tommy because of who he is, because of what’s inside of him. His money has nothing to do with it.”
My words settled into the air around us, and all was silent until Maddie spoke.
“I wish he would show up on a white horse and sweep you away to a magical castle,” she said dreamily. “And you could be a beautiful princess.”
I glanced at Irene, who seemed touched by all I had said, and then I looked back at Maddie.
“I don’t need the horse or the castle,” I said, smiling. “I’m happy with just Tom. He’s my handsome prince.”
That seemed to satisfy them all. Beth quietly thanked me and then, without any further conversation, she stood and began ushering Leah toward the stairs. Irene waited until they were gone before speaking.
“Thank you, Callie,” she said softly. “You managed to settle some doubts and toss in a little well-needed discipline all in one fell swoop.”
“Good. I hope I wasn’t out of bounds there at the beginning.”
“Not at all. Leah’s a little pistol. Her mother is the first to admit it.”
I settled back into the couch, feeling much more comfortable now that everything was out in the open.
“Would I be correct to assume that things are fairly serious between you and my son?”
Now it was my turn to blush.
“I’m sorry he didn’t tell you,” I replied. “Being his employee makes it kind of complicated. We have kept things very discreet.”
Not to mention, my husband was killed by James Sparks—your ex-son-in-law and the father of your granddaughters…
“My son is a very private person,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll share it with me when he feels ready.”
“I’m sure he will.”
She shifted in her seat, hands clasped delicately in her lap.
“So are you ready for tomorrow night’s ball?” she asked, gracefully changing the subject. “I understand you’re borrowing a gown.”
“Yes, from Veronica’s sister. It’s gorgeous. I picked up some shoes to go with it this morning.”
“How about your mask?”
“My mask?”
“It’s a masked ball,” she said. “Didn’t anyone tell you? Here’s the one Beth will be wearing.” She stood and hobbled over to a nearby table and picked up a gorgeous, sparkling Mardi Gras mask covered in jewels and topped with feathers. She handed it to me. “It’s a family heirloom.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, holding the mask under the light to study it more closely. It was also valuable. What I had thought were rhinestones were actually, I saw upon closer inspection, semi-precious gemstones.
She disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a large shoebox. Inside were beads, doubloons, and several masks.
“I’m sorry that this is all we have,” she said, pulling them out one by one. “They’re just throwaways. You wouldn’t even have to give it back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
I looked through them until I found one all in silver that I thought would match my shoes. It was made of plastic covered with a shimmery fabric and trimmed in sequins, and when I put it on and looked in the mirror, I thought it looked nice. I told Irene it would do just fine.
“Well, good,” she said. “I’m so glad I could help.”
As she put the box away, I thought about how very much I liked her. There was a sweetness about her that made me want to curl my legs up under myself and tell her my deepest secrets.
Instead, she rejoined me on the couch and we talked about superficial things, moving eventually into my questions about Family HEARTS and discussing the difficulty her family faced in dealing with a rare disorder. I told her of my visit to the Norris’ house last night and how profoundly I had been impacted by it.
“That is one extremely impressive family,” she said. “Considering what they go through, I cannot imagine how they cope. Sandy has been a huge inspiration for Beth.”
Speaking of Beth, she came down the stairs dressed in shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers.
“I’m going for a run,” she said to her mother. “The girls are doing their reading and then I’ll be back to tuck them in.”
“All right, dear.”
“Callie,” Beth said, “if you leave before I get back, it was good seeing you again. Nothing personal from earlier, huh?”
“I have a brother too,” I said, smiling. “I know how it is.”
She left, and then it seemed to be a good time for me to be leaving as well.
“Before you go, Callie,” Irene said, “maybe you’d like to see a few pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“Of Tom. As a boy. Beth has some of our old photo albums here.”
That was an offer too good to resist! As it turned out, I ended up staying another hour and a half, sitting side by side on the couch with Irene, looking at old family photos, and hearing stories about Tom’s boyhood. Though I was sure he would have died to know he was the hot topic of discussion, I had a whole lot of fun, and I gained some valuable insights into his character as well.
I finally called it a night after the last photo album. It was late, and I still had to get back across the Causeway to the city. Beth had already come back from her jog and gone to bed, so Irene walked me to the door by herself and surprised me by giving me a hug goodbye.
“Thank you, Callie,” she said. “I hope this was just the first of many times we can share together.”
“Thank you, Irene,” I replied. “That means more to me than you could ever know.”
Forty-Eight
The night was dark, and my wheels made a steady thump, thump, thump on the ridges of the Causeway. Traffic was light and I had the urge to speed up a bit, but I had seen a number of police cars on the drive over, and I had a feeling this long bridge was probably one big, extended speed trap.
Instead, I simply let myself be lulled by the rhythm of the sounds the car was making. There was a slight drizzle outside, and between the thump of the tires and the swish of the windshield wipers, the effect was nearly hypnotic.
Until I heard the hiss.
I thought I had blown out a tire at first. It sounded like that, like the shooting of compressed air. It was closer than that, though, and a moment later I reached for the interior light to see if I had left a soda can on the floor that had sprung a leak. Instead, when I flipped on the light, I spied a giant snake, slithering out from under the seat between my legs. It was hissing.
I slammed on the brakes so hard I nearly spun out. With a giant screech, I came to a stop, slammed the gear into park, and then jumped out of the vehicle. I was lucky there were no other cars passing at that moment, or I would have been killed. I fell onto the center lane, unable to stop myself from screaming. Afraid I would be run down, I scrambled up and then ran further to the middle, where there was a turn-around lane.
The snake was still in my car, and suddenly it didn’t matter where I was stepping, it felt as though there were snakes everywhere. I looked all around on the ground, thoroughly rattled by long, thin strips of discarded tires. Everything looked like a snake—including the real snake in my car, which I could still see by taking a few steps back toward it. It had slithered onto the brake pedal and was resting there, its neck coiled, its head erect.
Frantic, I looked in both directions, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. There were cars in the distance both ways, and though I wanted simply to run away and hide, I realized that if another car came upon my car too quickly, there might be a terrible accident.
Steeling my nerve, I ran back the way I had come, waving broadly to the next car that came by. Though they did not stop, they slowed down enough to veer around my vehicle.
The next car that passed did the same, but finally someone coming from the opposite direction pulled over into the turnaround lane. Much to my relief, I saw that it was a police car.
“Officer, help me,” I said, running toward him.
“That your vehicle, ma’am?” he said.
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to pull it over here as quickly as possible, if you can.”
“I can’t!” I cried. “There’s a giant snake inside!”
He looked shocked, but he sprang into action nevertheless. He maneuvered his car across the lane and behind mine and then turned on his flashing lights. Quickly, he hopped out of his car and then ran along behind it, dropping lit flares for another 50 feet or so.
Finally, he ran back to where I was waiting, on the crossover lane.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
I looked down to see that my knees were scraped up and bloody from my fall on the road.
“I wasn’t bitten,” I said, trying to get myself under control. “I was just driving along and then I heard something hissing, and when I turned on the light, there was a big snake in the car by my feet! It was horrible!”
He placed a warm hand on my arm and looked me in the eyes.
“I’m going to radio for help,” he said. “Are you sure you didn’t get bitten?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You gonna be all right for a minute?”
“Yes.”
I clutched my arms around myself, shivering despite the nighttime heat. I realized that in the drizzle my hair had gotten all wet.
After he finished on the radio, he invited me to sit in the police car where it was dry, but I resisted. All I could see were snakes under every seat.
“We’ll just wait here a few minutes,” he said. “I got another vehicle responding, and they’re gonna bring a loop.”
“A loop?”
“It’s a tool to get the snake out.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.
“I can’t believe there was a snake in my car,” I said.
“Oh, this ain’t the first time I’ve seen this,” he replied. “People leave their windows open around here, don’t think twice about it, and next thing you know a whole family of water moccasins has moved right in.”
“A whole family?”
“You know what I mean. You’re gonna be fine.”
I felt better once the other unit had responded. One of its officers had brought a long metal pole with a hook at the end, and it took him a while, but eventually he was able to reach into my car with the pole and loop it around the snake. He jerked it back, pulling the snake out, and we were all shocked to see that it was about five feet long.
“Probably
just a kingsnake,” one of the cops said, whistling. “Sure is a big one.”
“Is it poisonous?” I asked.
“No, but it can bite, and, man, does that hurt.”
The officer with the pole surprised me by simply walking to the railing and dropping the snake overboard, into the lake. I ran to the side in time to see it slithering away in the black water.
The cops thought that would be the end of things, but I was insistent that they conduct a thorough search of my vehicle. They used flashlights to look under seats, in the glove compartment, and everywhere else a reptile might choose to hide.
“Looks like that’s it,” one of them said. “There was only that one.”
They took some information from me for their report and sent me on my way. By the time I made it across the lake, to the French Quarter and the hotel, I was violently trembling. After I checked the car with the valet, I sought out the bell captain and explained what had happened. He could tell I was thoroughly spooked, and after grabbing the hotel’s first aid kit, he insisted on coming with me to my room to check every nook and cranny to make sure it was safe.
It was. Finally, I took some antiseptic ointment and bandages from the first aid kit, tipped him well, and then locked, bolted, and blocked the door. I ran a bath and climbed in, picking gravel out of my scraped knees while I waited for the hot water to fill.
A snake.
In my car.
I had no doubt it had been put there on purpose.
After my bath, feeling much more calm, I bandaged my cuts, dressed in my nightgown, climbed into the bed, and then called Tom on the secure phone. Though it was late, I could tell he wasn’t alone. I could hear other voices in the background. Trying to keep myself from sounding too upset, I explained what had happened.
Tom was astounded and angry. After he listened to my full story, he put me on hold for a moment and then came back on the line to tell me they were contacting the NSA branch office in New Orleans. He had a feeling they would want to come right over to retrieve my car and search it for evidence.
“I’ll send Jacques to your room to get your car key so you don’t have to be bothered. You can pick it up at the front desk in the morning, when you check out.”
“I’m not checking out.”
The Buck Stops Here Page 29