by Maria Geraci
Mimi’s heart jolted. She must have heard wrong. “What? When did you find out?”
“A few days ago.”
“And… you didn’t tell me? Or your father?” Mimi looked to Zeke, who silently shook his head at her.
“It’s no big deal. You and Daddy have been busy and it’s not like I’m not going to college. I can go to the community college here and then transfer later.”
“But…your grades are so good!”
Claire sighed impatiently. “It’s not just grades anymore, Mom. It’s the whole package. Really, I’m not upset. Besides, I thought you’d be happy. Now I can stay at home next year and that will save money.”
“We’re happy if you’re happy, pumpkin,” Daddy said.
Momma made the face where she tried not to frown, but it still came out that way anyway. “Didn’t you apply to any other colleges?”
“A couple others, yes,” Claire admitted. “But I really had my heart set on FSU, so… I’d rather wait and get in there later than go off to another school now.”
Daddy nodded amiably. “That makes perfect sense.”
Zeke didn’t say anything. But then, what could he say? It was obvious he was as gobsmacked as Mimi.
Cameron began talking about Toby again and God bless Daddy, he tried to keep things upbeat and cheerful, but the rest the dinner went by miserably slow.
*~*~*
Zeke stepped outside to the backyard patio. Surprisingly, it was dark. He flipped on the patio lights.
“Please turn that off,” he heard Mimi say.
He killed the light and followed the sound of her voice to the small deck area off the pool. There was enough moonlight that he could see her well enough, but he couldn’t read the expression on her face. Immediately after dinner, she’d poured herself another glass of wine and slipped out to the backyard. Here she sat holding her drink, one leg crossed over the over, in an oversized Adirondack chair. Her skirt was hiked up a few inches above her knees and her right foot jiggled furiously. She was wearing flip flops, which looked completely out of place with the rest of her outfit. It also looked ridiculously sexy.
“Claire went home and Cameron’s playing chess with your dad,” he told her.
Mimi took a sip of her wine. “And Momma?”
“She’s doing the dishes. I offered to help, but she ordered me to come out here and visit with you.”
“Did she?” Mimi laughed softly. It was a sad little laugh and something about it tore at Zeke’s gut. He’d only seen her in this kind of mood a couple of times before. The first time had been after her grandmother had passed. She’d been incredibly sad, an emotion he understood all too well. The second time was the night she’d asked him to leave the house. He knew now it was because she’d discovered his father’s letter. She thought he’d betrayed her by not telling her about it.
Why couldn’t she understand it had nothing to do with her?
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she said. “I had no idea Momma was planning this…ambush.”
“It was a nice dinner.” It felt like a lame thing to say, except dinner had been nice. Until the end when Claire had dropped that little bombshell. He took the seat next to her.
“That’s mighty generous of you.” She paused. “You know, the whole town knows we had sex Saturday night. Including my own mother. That’s what dinner was really about. She thinks we’re back together.”
“I figured that.”
“Apparently you’re also her new golden child.”
“As opposed to the bastard who got her princess pregnant?”
“Well, I’m not sure she ever worded it quite that way. But close.”
He smiled, but instead of smiling back, she grew somber and took another sip of her wine. “At least you got a decent meal out of it.” She eyed him briefly. “I’ve been worried that you’ve been eating too much fast food. You’re not, are you?”
“Actually, I’m eating okay,” he said evasively.
“I swear to you, I didn’t say anything to Momma about your father.”
He braced himself for the inevitable anger he always felt whenever anyone mentioned Sam Grant. It was there, smoldering away somewhere in the pit of his stomach, but he was too caught up in her sad mood to let it do more than sizzle for a few seconds before it eventually died down.
“I never thought you had.”
“It was creepy, the way she brought that up so randomly. It’s like she can read my mind.”
“It wasn’t so random,” he said. “We were talking about Allie’s wedding. It’s a natural topic to bring up.”
She let out a long sigh and stared out into the grass. Zeke wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a sniffle.
“I’m supposed to tell you thanks for all the cookies and stuff you brought to headquarters this morning. Everyone loved it. Especially Rusty.”
That made her smile. “I made those magical coconut bars just for him, you know?”
“Should I be jealous?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
Now that was more like the old Mimi. Only he knew her well enough to know it was her way of evading what he’d come out here to talk to her about.
He shifted in his chair. “Don’t take it personal, baby. She’s just a kid.”
She sniffled again and this time he could see how shiny her eyes were. Aw, shit. She was crying. In Zeke’s eyes there was nothing worse in the whole world than seeing his wife cry. It made him want to punch a wall or run until he couldn’t breathe anymore.
“It’s not that I’m disappointed or anything. I mean, I’m sad for her because, obviously, she has to be sad about this. I just…why didn’t Claire tell me she didn’t get into FSU? I’m her mother.”
“She’s always been a private person, Mimi. It’s just part of her personality,” he said quietly.
“Not like this. She used to be happy, Zeke. She used to come home from school and tell me about her classes and her teachers and her friends, and…we’d laugh. We’d go shopping and watch movies together. Now, it’s like I’m a fucking pariah and she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. What have I done? Am I that horrible of a mother?”
He leaned forward and placed his hands on her knees. The urge to pull her onto his lap and hold her, to wipe away her tears was overwhelming. But since their fight Saturday morning, an invisible wall had come up between them. He wished now that he hadn’t walked out on her. He should have stayed until they fought it out and cleared up this mess.
“You’re the best mother in the world. It’s not you, it’s Claire. It’s just normal teenage girl stuff.”
“It doesn’t feel normal.” Then he heard her hiccup and he realized the tears were coming faster now.
Fuck the invisible wall.
He pulled her from her chair and onto his lap. She curled around him and sighed softly. Now this felt good. It felt normal. Like the way things were supposed to be. Zeke and Mimi against the world and the hell with everything else.
“Do you ever think about leaving this town?”
“What?” She sounded surprised, but then he’d surprised himself, too, by saying it out loud.
“Just you and me. When Cameron’s off to school and it’s just the two of us again. Let’s go somewhere different.”
“Like where?”
“I don’t know. Australia maybe.”
“Australia?” She popped her head up off his chest. He gently brought it back down again. “You’ve never told me you wanted to see Australia,” she said.
“Or Hawaii.”
“Oh, I could definitely do Hawaii.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice.
“Let’s do it then. We’ll sell the house and I’ll get a job selling coconuts on the beach.”
She laughed and the sound soothed the churning in his gut. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Coconuts?”
“Or I could be one of those guys who plays with the fire in the luau shows.”
“Yeah, that’s more yo
ur style.” She snuggled tighter against him. “What about me? What am I going to do?”
“You can lay around in your bikini and inspire me.”
She snorted. “By the time Cameron goes off to school, I’ll be forty-one. I don’t think I’ll still be rocking a bikini by then.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll have to keep up my bad ass police skills to fight the guys off.”
“Bad ass, huh?”
“You better believe it. Or I could just knock ‘em on the head with one of my coconuts.”
She laughed again. Then she was quiet for a long time before she said, “I just wish…she’d told me. You know? This sounds stupid, but when Claire was little I had this fantasy that one day we’d be best friends and we’d tell each other everything. Like it was for Lorelei and Rory in Gilmore Girls.”
“You mean that T.V. show you used to watch?”
She nodded.
“You’re right, that’s a fantasy. This is real life. People aren’t perfect, Mimi. We make mistakes and we hurt each other, even when we don’t mean to.”
“I know,” she said softly. He could feel some of the tension leave her body. He wasn’t just talking about Claire, and she knew it.
He wanted to ask her to take him back. To let him come home and forget all about the past few months. But this wasn’t the right moment. This moment was about him taking care of her. The way he always had, and the way he always would.
It was Thursday and Mimi had been to the office every day this week. She’d officially joined the Rotary Club, the Whispering Bay Women’s Garden Club, and had attended the Gray Flamingos’ latest meeting, where Viola had asked her to make a speech. She was horrible at speeches. To tell the truth, she sucked at them, but the seniors were a friendly group and they didn’t mind that she had to occasionally read off her notes.
After her speech, she’d ducked out early, claiming a full afternoon’s calendar as her excuse. She wouldn’t have minded sticking around for the refreshments. Viola made a mean pound cake and Mimi had been after her for years for the recipe, but Betty Jean had tried to wave her over and Mimi simply wasn’t in the mood to hear any more armadillo jokes or give an update on her sex life. So Mimi had taken a slice of the cake to go.
She parked her minivan in the mayor’s spot and this time, instead of coming in through the back door, the way Bruce had told her to, she came in through the front door to the municipal building. Doreen was drinking coffee and seemed surprised to see her.
“This is four days in a row now,” Doreen said.
“How did Bruce get everything done and still hold down a full time job?” Mimi asked. “I feel like I have to be here all the time just to keep my head above water.”
“Is that a serious question?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You seem like a smart lady. Figure it out.”
Mimi wasn’t quite sure what Doreen meant by that but she seemed friendlier than she’d been on other occasions, plus she seemed to have an open mind when it came to the festival committee. At least she was willing to listen to Mimi’s plan of action as opposed to Bettina and Sherry and Wendy who basically had their minds made up to go against her.
Mimi impulsively handed her the wrapped up slice of pound cake. “This would go really nice with that coffee you’re drinking.”
Doreen stared at the pound cake.
“It’s not a bribe,” Mimi said.
“A bribe?”
Mimi shrugged, a little embarrassed now. “You know. To vote my way on the committee.”
Doreen tried to hide her smile. “I think my vote is worth more than one slice of leftover pound cake.” She unwrapped the slice and took a delicate bite. Then she took another, not-so-delicate one. “Wow. On second thought, maybe this is worth selling my vote over. This is fantastic. Did you make it?”
“It’s Viola Pantini’s special recipe. I’ve been after it for years.”
Doreen took another bite. “Cream cheese,” she said. “That’s the special ingredient.”
“You think?”
Doreen nodded. She broke off a piece of the cake and handed it to Mimi, who popped it in her mouth. You simply didn’t turn down Viola’s pound cake. Not unless you were brain dead.
“I think you’re right about the cream cheese,” Mimi said, smiling.
Doreen cleared her throat, then handed Mimi two slips of paper. “You have a call from someone at the Harbor House wanting to know about the deposit for the wedding reception.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be bothered by that. It’s a personal call. I’ll straighten them out and tell them to strictly use my cell.”
“I don’t mind,” Doreen said. “I used to do stuff like that for Bruce all the time.”
“But I mind. I’m sure you have better things to do than answer my personal calls.” Mimi glanced at the second message. This one had a Nashville area code. “Oh my God. It’s Crystal, Billy Brenton’s personal assistant! She called? When? What did she say?”
Doreen put a hand up in the air. “Whoa. She called about ten minutes ago and all she said was that you should call her back at that number.”
“Oh my God,” Mimi said again. She dashed into her office and began pacing. She needed to stay calm before she got on the line with Crystal and made a fool of herself.
Doreen followed her into the office. “You know, Madam Mayor—”
“Oh, please call me Mimi.”
“Okay… Mimi, I don’t want to get all up in your business, but don’t get too excited by that phone call.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last year mayor Bruce was all about getting Billy Brenton for the festival. Kind of like you are now, and well, in the end it all blew up in his face.”
“You mean he blames last year’s Spring Into Summer festival fiasco for not getting reelected?”
“You got it.”
“Thanks for the warning. I really appreciate it, but Bruce is kind of trying to help me on this. I know there’s some bitterness where the election is concerned but we both want what’s best for Whispering Bay.”
At the doubtful look on Doreen’s face, Mimi continued. “But the difference between Bruce and me is that I’m not making anything public until I have a written contract. Plus, there’s my back-up plan.”
“Fatback Bubba.”
“Exactly.”
“Good. I mean, you seem like a nice person and I’d hate for you to…get tricked or anything.”
Tricked? That seemed like an odd word for Doreen to use.
“No worries. I have this all under control.”
“Good to know. And thanks for the cake.” She went back to her desk, closing Mimi’s office door on her way out.
Mimi took a few deep breaths then dialed the number on the message. After a couple of rings, a pleasant sounding woman with a twangy southern accent answered. “Hello.”
“Hello, I mean, hi, Crystal! This is Mimi Grant. I called you, and then you called me, and…now I’m calling you back.” Mimi cringed. She sounded like some backwoods Billy Brenton groupie who’d had a little too much moonshine.
“Hello, Ms. Grant, so sorry we’ve been playing phone tag but Billy’s a busy boy these days, which means I’ve been busy, too.”
“Yes, of course, I’m just happy you called me back. I truly do appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you, hon, but that date you sent me? I’m afraid it’s just impossible. Billy’s gonna be playing down in Tallahassee the night before, then he gets one night off before he heads on over to Pensacola and from there he’ll be on tour for almost two weeks straight. Billy’s got a lot of stamina, but the poor boy needs a night off. I’d love to send you a copy of his latest CD, though. And a couple of T-shirts and some hats. Would you like that?”
Deep down Mimi had always known that getting Billy Brenton to play at the festival was a pipe dream. If Fatback Bubba charged ten grand for an appearance, then what would a Grammy winning country music st
ar like Billy cost? Probably the price of a small beach condo. Mimi tried to hide her disappointment and to sound upbeat. “I’d love that, Crystal. And thank you so much for getting back to me.” She gave Crystal her address, thanked her (at least twice more) then hung up.
Well, that was that. The optimist in her tried to look on the bright side. Getting Fatback Bubba and his band was going to be a whole lot easier and cheaper than Billy Brenton.
Mimi walked over to Doug’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door to find Doug sitting behind his desk, tapping away on his computer. The city manager’s office was about the same size as hers, but it had been redecorated recently to include new carpeting and a fresh coat of paint. On the wall behind Doug’s desk were his diplomas from the University of Kansas as well as a couple of pictures from both his hometown, and Old Explorer’s Bay, the city he’d just come from. Mimi had been in Doug’s office enough times now that she felt comfortable enough to take a seat without waiting to be asked. He put a finger in the air to indicate he’d be right with her.
After about a minute, he looked up from his screen and smiled. “Sorry, I was in the middle of something critical.” He sat back and gave her a warm, appreciative look that just last week would have made her feel uncomfortable, but after watching him talk to Doreen recently Mimi had concluded that it was Doug’s style to be naturally flirty. “You look nice today, but then, you look nice every day. What can I do for you?”
“That’s a good question, Doug.”
“I sense a favor coming on.”
“A sort of favor,” she said. “Remember when we went to Burger World and you said you might be able to get me some city funds to pay Billy Brenton with?”
His eyes widened. “Do I? Are you kidding? Did you—”
“Oh, no, no! Sorry. I suppose that did sound as if I had gotten Billy Brenton, but that’s definitely a big no. What I did get, however, was Fatback Bubble and the Rattlesnakes. They’re a local band out of Panama City, with some really big reviews. They’re about to go on tour and we’re really lucky to get them. The thing is, they charge ten thousand for a performance. The festival committee budget is pretty much shot, but I can scrounge up the deposit which is twenty-five percent. The rest will have to be paid within forty-eight hours of the festival.”