Dollar Daze

by Gillespie, Karin

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter said.

  “You okay?” Rusty asked Mrs. Tobias after the waiter departed.

  “Fine.” Mrs. Tobias spread her napkin over her lap.

  “You don’t look fine,” Rusty said. “Is this place a bad choice? I know it’s kind of stuffy.”

  She softened at his concern. Rusty was always so considerate of her. If Jacque’s was stuffy, her attitude was making it even stuffier. What was wrong with her? Who cared what Jacque’s’ uppity wait staff thought? She was here with Rusty, a very dear man, to celebrate the return of his beloved pet.

  She smiled at Rusty and felt herself loosening up just as the champagne arrived in a gleaming, silver bucket. After the waiter poured, Rusty held up his glass.

  “It’s meant the world to me to spend time with you these past few weeks,” he said. “When Hap came home, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”

  They drank their champagne and gradually inched closer together in the roomy circular booth. Rusty ordered lobster and Mrs. Tobias ordered veal shanks, and they shared their entrees with each other, all the while talking and laughing. There were so many things to discuss: music, books, art, and travel. The dark-paneled walls of Jacque’s seemed to open up as they conversed. Mrs. Tobias could never remember discussing such topics with her late husband. Harrison’s world was so narrow: golf at the country club, Glenlivet Scotch on the rocks, and classical music in the study.

  “Would you like a nibble of my dessert?” Rusty cracked the surface of his crème brûlée with a spoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t order some.”

  “I have to watch my figure,” Mrs. Tobias said with a girlish titter. The champagne was going to her head.

  “Just a taste,” Rusty beseeched. She shook her head and continued to laugh.

  “Why not taste it here?” Rusty touched his mouth and leaned into her. He pressed his warm, sweet lips against hers. When he pulled away, she said in a soft voice, “You’re right, Rusty. That was absolutely delic—”

  “Gracie!” a voice said. “Is that you?”

  Mrs. Tobias glanced up at a woman hovering beside their booth. It was Cecilia Tobias, Harrison’s mother. Beside her was her husband, Phillip. He was in his late eighties and looked even more shrunken and ancient than Mrs. Tobias remembered. Cecilia, however, hadn’t withered in the slightest. She wore a red couture suit with white piping and a matching boater hat, and her carriage was as upright as a debutante’s. She took in all the details of her daughter-in-law’s table with her alert green eyes.

  “Mother Tobias and Mr. Tobias. What an unexpected pleasure!” Mrs. Tobias rose from the table to air-kiss Cecilia’s cheek. “May I present my companion, Rusty Williams.”

  She continued with the introductions as Rusty struggled up from the booth, bumping his knee on the table.

  “Nice to meet y’all,” he said.

  Cecilia did not change her expression as she studied Rusty’s leather jacket, her daughter-in-law’s smeared lipstick, and the empty champagne bottle on the table. Her head strained from her neck like the carved face on a ship’s prow.

  “Delighted to meet you, Mr. Williams,” she said. Cecilia’s eyes rested on Mrs. Tobias’s face. “It’s been far too long, Gracie. You must come and visit me.”

  “I agree,” Mrs. Tobias said, smoothing her hair with her hand. She felt like a teenager who’d been caught necking on her parents’ sofa.

  “Lovely. How about tomorrow at three? I’ll have Ernestine prepare a tea.”

  “Three o’clock? I suppose I could—”

  “Good. I’ll see you then,” she said, turning to her husband. “Come along, Phillip. Our table is ready.” She nodded at Mrs. Tobias and Rusty. “Good evening to you both.”

  Twenty-Three

  Don’t be so open-minded your brain falls out.

  ~ From the Methodist Church bulletin

  “Here comes Elizabeth,” Mavis said to Attalee, who sat in the break area of the Bottom Dollar Emporium wolfing down a sausage biscuit. “She’s probably feeling punk because her job didn’t work out. So don’t say anything about it or Mrs. Pirkle, because I don’t want her even more upset.” Mavis paused and considered her friend for a minute. “Matter of fact, maybe you shouldn’t speak at all. Pretend you have laryngitis.”

  “Hey!” Attalee glowered. “Are you implying I ain’t got no tact?”

  Before Mavis could respond, Elizabeth bounced in the door pushing Glenda in an umbrella stroller and pulling Maybelline on her leash.

  “What a beautiful morning!” Elizabeth sang out. She wore a pink velour sweat suit with a matching wool hat, and her face was lit up with a dazzling smile.

  “Hmpph, if that’s being punk, let me have it,” muttered Attalee.

  “Elizabeth, you look wonderful,” Mavis said, giving her a hug.

  “Thanks. I’m feeling better,” Elizabeth said.

  “Hallelujah,” Attalee said. “Considering you had to quit your you-know-what because you-know-who was watching Jerry Springer.”

  “Attalee!” Mavis said.

  “I didn’t say a thing,” Attalee said, blinking behind her glasses.

  “I’m trying to put that all behind me,” Elizabeth said. “I want to move on, and my first step is to lose some of this baby weight. I walked all the way here from my house.”

  “Your pooch looks a little winded,” Attalee said, pointing to a panting Maybelline.

  “I know,” Elizabeth said. “Can I get a drink for Maybelline?”

  “Of course,” Mavis said, going into the restroom off the break area to fill a bowl with water.

  “Have you gotten fitted for your bridesmaid’s dress yet?” Attalee asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes, I did. That’s one reason I’m going on this diet. I looked like a big satin zeppelin when I tried it on.”

  Mavis returned with the water and placed it in front of Maybelline, who immediately stuck her black snout inside the bowl and started lapping it up.

  “I’ve put Maybelline on a diet, too,” Elizabeth said in a low voice. “She hates her Portly Pet dog food. She keeps spitting kibble out at my feet, but I’m hanging tough. I don’t want her to have a heart attack in her prime.”

  “It is so nice to see you happy again, Elizabeth.” Mavis knelt beside Glenda’s stroller. “And I love seeing this sweet baby.”

  Elizabeth smiled down at Mavis. “A couple more cheek pinches, and then we’ve gotta go. I need to take Maybelline back home, because Glenda and I are going to Kindermusik at the Methodist Church this morning.”

  “All right.” Mavis kissed the top of Glenda’s silky head and reluctantly got up from the floor. “Don’t forget the Business Person of the Year Banquet Saturday night.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I’ve already hired a baby-sitter,” Elizabeth said. “Thanks for the water, Mavis. I really have to go now.”

  “So have you asked Brew to be your date for the banquet?” Attalee asked after Elizabeth left.

  “Not yet. I will tonight, though.” Mavis ran a feather duster over a shelf lined with jars of jams and jellies.

  “Where y’all going?”

  “Nowhere. Just dinner at my house.”

  Attalee scrunched up her forehead. “That’s what you always do. Doesn’t the man ever take you out on the town?”

  “He likes home cooking.”

  “Not much fun for you, though. ‘Course, you probably like what goes on after dinner.” Attalee grinned at Mavis. “On the sofa.”

  “Nothing goes on,” Mavis said.

  “Now Mavis. I’m your oldest friend. Spill a little for me. What kind of kisser is he? Lots of slobber, or a desert mouth?”

  “Neither. I mean, I don’t know.” Mavis colored. “I’ve never kissed him.”

  “Tarnation! Why not?”

  “I
’m not sure.” She laid down her feather duster. “Maybe he’s too much of a gentleman, or he’s too shy. All I know is I’ve chewed a lot of Tic Tacs after supper for nothing.”

  Attalee banged the armrest of her chair with her fist. “In that case, you’re just going to have to make the first move. Put a Barry White record on the hi-fi, and swoop in for the pucker.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if I can—” Mavis’s eyes widened as she glanced out the window. “Goodness, there he is. He’s coming up the walk.”

  “I’ll scoot to the back room so you can have a little privacy,” Attalee said, as she scampered off. “Don’t forget to ask him about the banquet.”

  Mavis took a quick glance at her reflection in the bottom of a copper pot hanging in the kitchenware department. Her lipstick had worn off, but there was no time to reapply it.

  “Ollie, Ollie oxen free!” Brew called out as he came inside the store. “Anybody home?”

  “Here I am, Brew,” Mavis said, stepping into the center aisle.

  Brew smiled. He wore a college sweatshirt and blue jeans covered with plaster dust. “There’s my pretty filly.”

  “You’ve been busy, I see.” Mavis walked to the front of the store. “What can I do for you?”

  “Just had me a yen for a Yoo-Hoo and a licorice whip. And a chat with a gorgeous woman.”

  Mavis laughed. “You’re a caution.” She slid open the glass drink cooler by the cash register and presented him with a bottle of chocolate Yoo-Hoo. “Just pick out any candy you want from the bins.”

  Brew twisted off the cap and took a big swig.

  “Can you believe our class reunion is one week from Saturday?” he said after he’d swallowed. He swiped at a trace of chocolate mustache on his lip with his sleeve. “We sure pulled it together fast. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Thank you, Brew.” She had worked hard, all that mailing and calling of former classmates and reserving a block of rooms at the Cozy Night Inn on the Aiken-Augusta Highway. But at least she hadn’t had to worry about the refreshments and decorations. Brew was handling all of that.

  “There’s still a few folks who haven’t responded, right?” Brew asked.

  “Yes,” Mavis said. “I’ve left several messages on Connie Bradshaw’s machine. She’s never called me back. Hank Bryson’s phone just rings and rings. And Prissy Stevens ...”

  “Yes?” Brew leaned over the checkout counter with interest.

  “I’ve let two messages with her housekeeper. She assured me she’d passed them on to Prissy.”

  “Maybe you should try calling one more time.” Brew stroked his beard.

  “Brew,” Mavis said, picking at the sleeve of her uniform. “About Prissy. Y’all were such an item in high school. I just wondered...”

  “If there might still be some leftover feelings?” Brew asked.

  Mavis nodded.

  “Don’t you fret,” Brew said. “Prissy’s probably got a few double chins by now. Besides, we haven’t heard from her, so likely she’s not even coming to the reunion.” He tilted up her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Who’s my best girl now?”

  “Me?” Mavis touched her collar.

  “That’s right, m’lady.”

  “So kiss her already!” came a voice from the back.

  “What in Sam Hill?” Brew turned his head in the direction of the sound.

  “That’s Attalee,” Mavis said covering her face with her hands.

  “Sounds like a tempting idea,” Brew said with a smile. “Under the right circumstances, of course.”

  “I’m sorry, Brew. Attalee is—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “She’s a romantic. Just like me. So, how about dinner Saturday night? Maybe then we can do something about that kiss.”

  “Saturday night is the Business Person of the Year Banquet at the Wagon Wheel. It starts at six,” Mavis said, her eyes dropping to her shoes. “I’d love for you to be my escort.”

  “Oh, well, I—I’m flattered . . .”

  “But?” Mavis asked. She braced herself for his refusal.

  “I’d be honored to be your date,” Brew said in a rush of words.

  “Really?” Mavis said.

  “But it would be best if I met you there. I’m driving out to Columbia that day to buy some bathroom fixtures, and I don’t want to make you late if I get delayed.”

  “Just come to the honoree table. I’ll have a seat reserved for you,” Mavis said.

  She felt like whooping out loud. Everybody who was anyone in Cayboo Creek would be at the banquet, and they’d all see her with Brew on her arm. They would be announcing their status as a couple to the community.

  “I best be going.” Brew laid down a couple of bills near the register. “See you soon.”

  Mavis hugged herself after he left, letting pleasant daydreams of Brew play through her mind. Then she frowned suddenly.

  “Birdie,” she said aloud.

  “What about her?” Attalee said, stealing out from behind a wall column.

  “She’ll be at the banquet to photograph the winner,” Mavis said. “It’ll upset her to see me there with Brew. I told you what happened at the Winn-Dixie.”

  “Tough tamales,” Attalee huffed. “She’s been a real sore loser about this. Let her squirm.”

  “She has been difficult,” Mavis said. “But my happiness over Brew is bittersweet because it comes at her expense.” She glanced at Birdie’s empty chair in the break room. “I miss her. I wish we could straighten this all out.”

  Twenty-Four

  I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.

  ~ Bumper sticker on Taffy Polk’s Trans Am

  Elizabeth was flat on the floor of her living room sweating to a Butt Blaster video when the phone rang.

  “Ouch, that smarts.” Her derrière muscles burned as she scrambled up from the exercise mat to answer the phone in the kitchen.

  “Hello,” she said trying to catch her breath.

  “Did I interrupt something?” Elizabeth recognized the honeyed voice of her stepmother, Taffy Polk. “You and Timothy having yourselves a little afternoon delight?”

  “No, Taffy.” Elizabeth wiped the perspiration from her forehead with a hand towel. “I was just working out. I’m trying to burn off some baby fat.”

  “Hmmm. You had that baby nearly a year ago. Sounds more like bakery fat to me. I’ve seen the way you tear through biscuits and bagels.”

  “Could be,” Elizabeth asked, anxious to do more butt-blasting before Glenda woke from her nap. “What’s going on?”

  “Brace yourself,” Taffy said. “I have terrible news. Your uncle Ray’s in the hospital. He was driving a souped-up all-terrain vehicle and flipped over a big rock. Now he’s in intensive care.”

  “That’s awful,” Elizabeth said. Ray was her daddy’s older brother. “How’s Daddy?”

  “Dwayne’s all broke up. He idolizes Ray, you know. Poor thing didn’t even go into work today.”

  Elizabeth’s daddy owned the Bargain Bonanza, a rent-to-own furniture business located on the highway between Augusta and Cayboo Creek. He was known as “Insane Dwayne” from his obnoxious television commercials.

  “I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s touch and go for Ray. Your daddy and I were planning to drive to the hospital in Dry Branch first thing in the morning, and we’d like you to come with us.”

  “This is so sudden,” Elizabeth said. “There’s the baby to consider—”

  “It would mean a lot to your daddy if you went with us, considering Lanier can’t go. He’s still wearing his ankle bracelet and isn’t allowed to leave the county.”

  Lanier, Elizabeth’s half-brother, had the unfortunate habit of hot-wiring cars and taking them for joyrides. Currently, he was on house arrest.<
br />
  “Let me see if I can find someone to look after Glenda,” Elizabeth said. She didn’t look forward to being cooped up in a car with her daddy and Taffy for several hours, but she felt obligated to go. Ray was her daddy’s only sibling.

  After hanging up with Taffy, she called Timothy at the Bait Box and told him the news.

  “That’s a tough break,” Timothy said. “I’ll just get Ferrell to look after the shop, and I’ll stay home with Glenda.”

  “Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked. “We’ll end up staying over. You’ve never had the baby alone for an entire night before.”

  “I’m her father,” Timothy insisted. “I can handle it.”

  Across the river, in Augusta, Mrs. Tobias stood in front of the stylish brick condominium that was now the home of Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Tobias. The senior Tobiases had recently sold their enormous clapboard-sided Queen Anne home. The twisting staircases and basketball-court-sized rooms of the mansion were now too strenuous for Harrison’s father, Phillip, who had trouble walking more than a few feet. It was Mrs. Tobias’s first visit to her in-laws’ new residence, and she wondered how Cecilia was adjusting to her much-reduced quarters.

  She rang the bell and it was answered, as usual, by Ernestine, the Tobiases’ ancient housekeeper, who wore a black uniform with crisp white cuffs and matching pleated apron. Forty some years ago, when Gracie Tobias had been a young bride, Ernestine had been recruited to teach her the ins and outs of making flaky, Southern-style biscuits. Even then Ernestine had seemed old to her.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Tobias. The missus is expecting you,” Ernestine said.

  Mrs. Tobias followed the housekeeper through the small foyer, noticing a silver calling-card dish by the door and freshly cut white gladiolas in a Waterford crystal vase displayed on a marble pedestal table. Apparently, Cecilia was maintaining the same level of formality she’d enjoyed in her larger home.