by Rhett DeVane
Hannah scowled. “Missy.” The aroma of cinnamon brought water to her mouth.
“Don’t worry. I made them with Splenda. Still some calories, but sugar-free.”
“In that case.” Hannah bit into a warm oatmeal cookie and groaned. “Wow. Good.” She imagined two fat cookies with a mound of peanut butter in-between. What a weird obsession.
“Aren’t they? I might not have a problem convincing Brittany to eat them.”
“How is she?”
“She’s put on six pounds!” Missy beamed. “I’m so proud of her. They’re doing this Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, where she delves into the reasons behind her eating disorder. She has to eat six times a day; they monitor her daily intake and weight. Brittany wrestles with her issues, as do I. We’re both in counseling. Sometimes together, sometimes separate.”
“That’s good. I mean—about Brit’s improving.”
“She’ll be home in time for school in the fall, if she continues to do well. That’ll bring a new set of challenges: being with her friends, and struggling to fit in without feeling ashamed.”
“Justine misses her terribly.”
“Brit lives for your daughter’s cards and letters. I appreciate her . . .” Missy’s eyes watered. “and you. You’ve been such a good friend.”
Hannah gave Missy’s hand a quick squeeze, then poured a second cup of coffee from the insulated carafe. “I can’t tell you how exciting it is to come in this house and see dirty dishes in the sink.” She took a long, pleasurable swill of the rich Kona blend. One sure thing about her newfound friend: Missy didn’t scrimp when it came to primo coffee beans.
“Something about having a child in crisis makes a person let go.” Missy picked absently at the cookie crumbs trapped in the placemat’s fringe. “Not that I want to develop into a complete slob, but it feels okay to relax a bit.”
“You’ve been around me too much, Miss. My free and easy brand of housekeeping has rubbed off on you.”
Missy swished the notion aside. “Your house looks fine. A little mussed at times. But inviting. The kind of home a person feels welcome to come right in and plop down.”
“You might have to push aside a fat cat or a pile of discarded kids’ clothing to find a seat, but yes, I suppose that’s the decorator look I was striving for.”
Missy glanced around the kitchen. “It’s not just the house. I’ve let other things slide.”
Hannah took in Missy’s wispy, off-center ponytail. “Your ’do hasn’t been so rigid lately.”
“It’s too much of an effort.” Missy plucked at a strand of hair. “Besides, who the hell cares if every single hair on my head is in place?”
Hannah reeled. Had Missy Rodgers just cursed? Lord help.
Missy stood and removed the saucer to the sink. “I’m sure my hair and makeup are the least of the world’s concerns.” She turned and faced Hannah, her expression serious. “I’ve dropped some of my volunteer duties.”
Hannah choked on a swallow, nearly sending a spray of coffee from her nostrils. “No way!”
“Surely did. Except for the Relay for Life. I’m still head chairperson for that. But the others? I spent the better part of an evening calling around and excusing myself from so much heavy responsibility. I probably didn’t make any friends.”
Hannah reached over and held the back of her hand to Missy’s forehead.
“No, I’m not feverish. I just stopped.”
“Good for you, kiddo.” Hannah slapped her on the back. “Proud of you.”
Missy glowed with the praise. “Thank you, Hannah. Really.”
“So what now, former Queen-of-All-There-Is?”
Missy propped her chin on her hands. “Don’t know. Depends on how things go when Brittany comes home. I may get a part-time job, or start a small business of some sort.”
“Business?”
“Some crazy ideas I have floating around. Nothing concrete. You’ll be the first to know. I promise.”
Hannah polished off the last bite of cookie. “Better be. If I hear it over a hair cut at the Triple C, I’ll be really chapped.”
Hannah stopped cold when she spotted Lucy Goosey’s latest ensemble. Obviously tired of the summer beach scene, Lucy had dressed for a night on the town. A shimmery, form-fitting, black gown draped over one shoulder and fell in a pool at her webbed feet. A string of pearls surrounded her arched neck. Blue shadow highlighted the area above her eyes, and her cheeks were dotted with deep red blush. Small pearl studs, glued on due to Lucy’s lack of earlobes, completed the understated elegance. A satin beaded clutch purse leaned at her side, stuffed with theatre tickets, a lace handkerchief (of course), and formal long white evening gloves.
“Puts on the dog, doesn’t she?” Beth asked.
“Sad to think this goose has more of a social life than I do,” Hannah said. Even odds, my mom supplied the hankie.
“Than all of us put together.” Beth smoothed a wrinkle in Lucy’s dress. “It’s rumored she’ll be taking a cruise in October.”
“Really?”
“I saw a little sailor’s hat Miz Maxine made. She wouldn’t tell me about the complete outfit, but I’m sure it’ll be rich.”
“And where is Lucy going, exactly?”
“Canada,” Maxine answered from behind them. “She has tickets to leave the third weekend in October with a prominent cruise line. Seven day round-trip. She’ll fly first class to New York, where she will meet the ship, then on to ports in Boston, Rhode Island, Bar Harbor, and Canada. She may spend a few days in New York when she returns, to shop and take in a couple of Broadway shows.”
“How fortunate for her,” Hannah said. “I’m sure the leaves will be in full color.”
“Do geese have problems with sea sickness?” Beth asked.
Maxine waved a jeweled finger. “Good point, Beth. One we had not considered. I’ll be sure she has some Dramamine packed.”
Hannah and Beth exchanged amused glances. Lucy Goosey’s life had taken a turn for the better since moving to Rosemont.
“I was heading down to see your mother,” Maxine said.
Hannah gestured. “Walk with me, then.”
“I’ve heard some distressing news.” Maxine shook her head slowly. “I hate to tell Mae, but I have to.”
“Can you share with me?”
“It’s about Barney.”
Hannah stopped and turned to face Maxine. “Is he back from the VA hospital?”
Maxine’s eyes watered. “I’m afraid not.”
“He didn’t—”
Maxine patted Hannah on the arm. “Oh, no. He’s still alive. He’s just not ever coming back to Rosemont.”
“Oh.”
“His family had to move him into a nursing facility down south near Tampa.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Miz Maxine, excuse me for saying so, but didn’t you and Barney have your issues?”
“We did.” Maxine’s lips twisted.
“It’s just . . . you seem so unsettled by this. I’d think you might be glad he wasn’t returning.”
“You must realize, Hannah. Rosemont’s one big family. For some who don’t have relatives or folks who come to see them, Rosemont is their only family.” Maxine turned and pushed her walker slowly forward. “Just because you don’t like something about your family, you still miss them when they’re not around.”
“You think this will upset my mother, obviously.”
“I do. Your mother is so tender-hearted. She takes to everyone like they were her long-lost cousins. Mae might not have approved of Barney, but she still took the time to befriend him, probably more than any of us did.” Maxine stopped and stared down the hallway. “Especially me. I was pretty mean to that old fart.”
“We all say and do things we’d like to take back, Miz Maxine. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Ah . . . well.” Maxine rolled forward a few inches, then paused to face Hannah again. “Your mother is fairly satisfied. I want you to know that.�
�
“Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”
Maxine rested a gnarled hand on Hannah’s arm. “Don’t allow yourself to become unsettled. Understand, we oldsters have good and bad days, like everyone else. Half the time, I don’t even recall having a bad day, by the next morning.” She tapped her forehead. “Less gray matter to cloud.”
Suzanne’s Fancy Green Rice
2 Tbsp. oil
1 cup raw, long-grained rice (not converted)
1/4 cup finely chopped onion
2 green chilies, chopped
6 green onions, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground cumin
1 and 3/4 cup chicken broth
1 and 1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1/3 tsp. dried coriander
Preheat oven to 350º. Heat oil over medium heat in a skillet or saucepan. Add rice and cook, stirring until rice turns opaque, about two minutes. Add white onion, sauté 1 minute. Add chopped chilies, green onion, garlic, salt, cumin and sauté 20 seconds. Add chicken broth. Mix. Heat over high heat to boiling, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer about 15 minutes until rice is almost tender.
Remove from heat. Add 1 cup of the cheese and the coriander. Toss to mix. Put in a greased, 1 and 1/2 quart casserole dish and top with remaining cheese. Bake, uncovered for 15 minutes.
Chapter Thirty-six
“Tonight,” Amy announced with her usual effervescent enthusiasm, “we’ll put it all together.” She adjusted her deep purple hip scarf and gave a few trial shakes. “The moves we’ve learned so far are fun, but we can’t stand around and do hip drops for hours on end. The folks in the audience would fall over from boredom.”
“Audience?” Suzanne said in a low voice. “You expect us to be able to dance in front of people?”
“You may decide to perform with the troupe,” Amy said.
Becky tied a bright scarlet, gold-trimmed hip belt around her harem pants. “I think it’ll be a hoot. By the time I learn a routine, Keith’ll be good enough to join the drummers. I hope.”
“I only want to work off some of this flab.” Hannah retied her belt twice before she was satisfied. Her belly pouched out. No more cookies for you, Hannah dear. Not even Missy’s low calorie ones.
After warm-up stretches, Amy demonstrated the first series of movements in a choreographed routine named “Dancing Hips.” “We’ll add in the zills as soon as we get the sequencing down.”
“I do okay until I try to sashay around and play those zills.” Hannah flailed her arms. “Ka-ray-zee klutz-o, as Jonas puts it.”
“Oh, poo!” Becky said. “Remember when we first learned this snake-arms move? How we looked like we were having seizures? Now all three of us can do it like we were born in the sands of Arabia.”
Amy agreed. “You three are doing well. Give yourselves a little credit. You’ve only been taking lessons for a couple of months. I’ve been dancing for seven years, and most of these intermediate students have been with me for at least a year. By the time the Hafla rolls around next spring, you’ll be on stage.”
“Heaven knows, Amy. If you believe in us that much, we’ll give it all we’ve got.” Suzanne accented her statement with a rolling hip swivel.
The instructor drilled the first eight movements until perspiration glistened on the students’ faces. At the end of class, Suzanne folded her hip belt into her duffel bag. “Man, do I feel wiped out.”
“I hear you,” Becky said. “I’ve lost eight pounds already. I dance two hours a day.”
“You’ve lost weight, and your mind,” Hannah commented.
Becky ignored the jab. “How’re y’all’s mamas?”
Suzanne lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Mine barely leaves the house. Says she’s short of breath most of the time. Understandable, with her heart condition.”
“I hate it that they can’t do anything for her,” Becky said.
“I don’t think she would go for it, even if they offered. She told me she didn’t want to see any more doctors or have any more tests. Period, the end. I guess she’s made up her mind that the Good Lord will determine when she’s ready to check out.”
Becky turned to Hannah. “And Mae?”
Hannah blew out a long breath. “Up and down. Things I think for certain would depress her don’t. Then she’ll get all worked up about something from years past that I’m sure everyone but her has forgotten.”
“Mama’s the same, reviewing things and processing them all over again.” Suzanne’s lips turned downward slightly. “They say people’s lives pass before them right before they die, but I believe it begins earlier. Especially when you’re old like Mae and my mama.”
“Lots of time to sit around and think,” Becky added. “My mom’s right there, too.”
Hannah picked up her bag and swung the strap over one shoulder. “Ma-Mae said the oddest thing yesterday. I’m still rolling it over in my mind. She was reliving something from four years ago, worrying and carrying on like it was recent. She felt like folks were gossiping about her. I kept asking her who had brought it up to start with. Thought maybe one of her friends had dropped by for a visit and passed along some idle talk. You know what she told me?”
Becky and Suzanne leaned in.
“She said it was ‘coming in from the air.’ ”
Becky’s eyebrows arched. “Like a radio show?”
“Something like that, I suppose,” Hannah said.
Suzanne threw her arm across her sister-in-law’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Hannah. They say odd things at times. Makes sense to them, but not to the rest of us. She’s probably remembering little snippets, popping into her mind at random.”
“Maybe. ”
“I look at it this way. Life is this mystery story. You get a few clues along the way. Some red herrings to throw you off the trail to truth. But, you don’t get the big picture of how it all comes together until—” Suzanne raised both hands, palms up.
“—until the end,” Hannah supplied.
The phone rang at six o’clock on Sunday morning. Hannah’s pulse quickened as she grappled for the phone.
“Hannah?” Her mother said.
“Ma-Mae? What’s wrong?”
“I’m feeling a little puny this morning.”
“Your stomach? What?”
“The nurse doesn’t seem overly concerned. She asked if I wanted her to call you earlier when she came to check me out.”
“You hurting anywhere?” Hannah pushed off the covers and sat up.
“Just not up to par. I told the nurse not to bother you, that I would call you myself later on. I knew you’d break your neck getting here. And there’s no reason. I need a day of lying around in bed.”
“Good day for that. Supposed to rain, pretty much, off and on all day. I’m going to do the same. Some laundry, get ready for the work week. I don’t even know if I’ll make it to church this morning. I’ll be here if you need me. You’ll call, right?”
“You don’t worry. They sent my breakfast down.”
“She okay?” Norman asked after Hannah hung up.
Hannah lay back and nestled into the crook of his arm. “Says she’s feeling bad.”
“You want to get dressed and ride to Rosemont?”
“I’ll go over later. It’ll make her mad if I go running over there now.”
Norman gently ran his fingers through his wife’s hair and massaged her scalp. “I know you’re concerned, hon. Wish I knew how to help.”
Hannah hugged closer to her husband. “You do help, by being beside me.”
Slug bounded onto the bed, landing between them. He yowled twice before hunkering down in the middle of Norman’s chest. “You need to put this feline on a diet. I can barely breathe.”
Hannah scratched Slug under the chin and his purr-motor roared. “He’s only trying to love you some.”
Norman huffed. “A man should be so l
ucky.”
“Norman?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been very physical lately.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not that I don’t absolutely adore you. The past couple of months have been really good with us. I just . . . I don’t have much energy by the time we’re alone.”
“We’ve been under a lot of strain, Hannah.”
“I’m so afraid, sometimes, that you’ll get fed up and go find another woman.”
“Oh please!”
Hannah traced a finger along his chin. “I’m not meeting your needs. My wifely duty . . . ”
“I don’t want anyone else, Hannah Olsen.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Don’t concern yourself with my needs. Life isn’t all about sex. After all, I still have two perfectly good hands.”
Hannah swatted him on the chest. “Norman!”
“They worked fine back in college before I married the love of my life.”
Hannah laughed and snuggled into the security of his arms.
Soon after her morning coffee, Hannah initiated a cleaning binge. She excised three bags of clothing from the master bedroom closet, then barreled into Jonas’s and Justine’s rooms. If it hadn’t touched human skin in two years, it went into the charity pile.
She moved into the study and filled trash bags with papers, paid bills, magazines, advertisements, and assorted riff-raff, bound for the garbage or shredder.
Norman escaped to his workshop with orders to clean and pitch. Justine exercised the vacuum, and Jonas herded dust bunnies. By the time lunch rolled around, the exhausted family—reeking of lemon-fresh cleansers and sweat—gathered in the kitchen for warmed-over lasagna.
“Don’t you all feel better?” Hannah asked as she handed out paper plates and napkins.
Her family stared at her.
“Sure, Mom,” Jonas finally replied.
Hannah walked into Rosemont later, feeling tired yet accomplished. Instead of disturbing Mae with a knock, Hannah used her key. “Ma-Mae?” she called in a soft voice as she entered.
“Come on in.”