I cleared my throat and pretended I needed my hand to find my phone in my purse. And the spell was broken.
“Oh, look at that time. We need to go get the girls. If you don’t mind.”
“Of course, I don’t mind.” He opened his wallet and laid some cash on the table. “You just sit here a few more minutes and finish your tea while I warm up the truck.”
I just nodded like a damn dingbat and let out a deep sigh when he was out of sight. Dear Lord, what the hell is happening?
He was warming up the truck alright, and other things.
As I lie on my sofa now, rubbing the tension in my temples, I think of how grateful I was when we picked up the girls and that this is a small town, so we didn’t have a long ride.
We were only alone in the truck for a few minutes and I kept up a steady stream of chatter about the doll business, and the customers on my shift at the restaurant, and how cold it’s been.
Then that made me think of how warm Tucker has been making me when he looks at me.
I don’t know if there’s any hope for me to squash this crush. Mine or his.
And now he’s taking the girls to school every day for who knows how long, and he lives next door. Alone. At least the girls sleep at home most of the time. Well, except on the weekends they sometimes stay at friends’ houses. Maybe I’ll offer to be the sleepover hostess for a while.
My phone starts buzzing in my purse and I’m hoping if I don’t answer, they’ll go away.
No, whoever this is, they are quite persistent. I guess I should get it. Even though my girls are home with me, I do still have other people to be concerned about, like Mama and Daddy, and my little brothers.
Oh Lord, it’s Mama. Why the heck is she calling me at this hour?
“Hello, Mama.”
“Molly Mae, I can’t believe you’re actually answering your phone. I am going to assume you were usin’ the facilities when I called earlier. Now, tell me girl, what important date is comin’ up?”
I rub my face and remember I haven’t taken my makeup off yet. “I don’t know, Mama. I’m a little tired for a quiz.” She can be so abrupt at times.
“Really now? Well, I have to teach you somethin’ if you don’t recall your dearly departed Meemaw’s anniversary of joining Jesus in heaven.”
She can’t just say, ‘Your grandmother’s death anniversary is coming up’ like a normal person. She should have been on the stage with all her drama. And it was five years ago. I loved Meemaw but we don’t need to make a huge spectacle out of her ‘joinin’ Jesus’ day every year.
Of course, if I said that Mama would be over here in a jiffy and it wouldn’t be to bring me some of her peach cobbler. More like a whoopin’, as she would call it.
Also, every time I talk to my mother for two minutes, I get more southern. Go figure.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I did know that. It’s on my calendar. Did you want to go to the cemetery this weekend and bring Meemaw some of her favorite flowers.”
The woman had to die in January, when the cost of gardenias is like a million dollars.
“No, missy. I don’t want to go on the weekend. I want to go on January the Fifth, the five-year anniversary of my mama’s passin’ into her glory. And that day falls on a Friday this year.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. I’m off from the restaurant on Friday, and I suppose I could go into the office late—”
“Well, I should surely hope so. Tell them fancy people that the Jenkins family is sorry their loved ones don’t die on days that fall on the weekend every year. Next year it will be a Saturday, so hooray for that!”
Rubbing my temples has done nothing to hold off my headache, and I should know there is no point in arguing with Mama. Next, she’ll be accusing me of sassing her.
“I will be there, Mama. And I will get the flowers. How’s that?”
“It’s better. Now you better get yourself off to bed. You sound plum tuckered out. You do too much. You’re like a one-legged cat runnin’ all over hell’s half acre. Now get to bed and I’ll see you with the roosters on Friday.”
She hangs up and I wonder how I ever learned how to speak English.
***
“Why yes, I do see the Swanson boys comin’ around to see their mama. Why wouldn’t they? She’s a fine woman. Too bad about the husband, but you can relate to that. Just don’t go waitin’ until your golden years to go lookin’ for a new husband, or else you’ll be cruisin’ the Elks Lodge like Jenny Swanson. Not that I’m one to gossip.”
Mama rattles around the kitchen, getting ready to go to visit Meemaw’s grave. She’s so slow the flowers are going to freeze in the car, never mind when we put them on the grave. I keep trying to tell her that gardenias are not going to last long in the freezing cold, but she is determined that her mother have her favorite flowers.
“Mama, really? I’m only thirty-five. I think I have a while before my expiration date.”
“You do, but you had a good man.”
I sigh and say, “If he was a good man, he wouldn’t have left.” I try not to visibly grit my teeth, but my mother’s support of the institution of marriage at any cost is wearing me out.
Mama heaves her overstuffed purse on the counter and squeezes her overstuffed body into her good winter coat.
“I didn’t say he was a perfect man. But you know the Lord forgives.”
“How can I forgive him if he’s not here?” I can’t believe I’m having this conversation yet again.
Daddy pops into the kitchen and buries his head in the refrigerator. He knows better than to get in between his wife and daughter, especially when they’re bitching about men.
“William Jenkins, can you talk some sense into your daughter?”
“Viola, the girl has a point. I ain’t seen Ray comin’ around seekin’ the Lord’s forgiveness or anyone else’s.”
He goes back to pulling out his afternoon snack of pig’s knuckles and pork rinds. The swine population doesn’t stand a chance in this house.
Mama puts her hands on her ample hips and says, “That is not the point. You don’t know anything about it. Now go back to your race on the television.”
Daddy winks at me and says, “Yep, I know nothin’. I’m just good for cuttin’ down trees and well…other stuff it ain’t appropriate to discuss in front of our little girl, right darlin’?”
Mama blushes and I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Not actually, but dear baby Jesus, do they have to get like that when their kids are around? One time they laid it on so sick at Christmas, my brother Bobby almost tossed up his favorite pecan pie.
“You go on back to the livin’ room. I swear, talkin’ like that on the anniversary of my mama’s joinin’ the Lord day.”
If I had a dollar for every time she’s made a similar statement, I could quit waitressing long before my doll business turns a profit.
She’s got her coat on, so I guess I’ll have to continue my questioning about Tucker in the car.
After much fussing about the flowers and Mama’s discomfort in my little ‘squeeze box’ car, we’re on the road to the cemetery.
“So Mama, you were saying that the Swanson boys do visit their mama a lot. Do they come alone?”
I could not be any more obvious, but since Mama is so hung up on me being Ray’s forever bride (although she also wants me to find another man before I get old, so which is it?), she will have no idea I am asking about the boys I used to babysit for any reason other than idle gossip.
Mama folds her hands on her ample lap and says, “Why no, Dawson brings that lovely Emma girl. It’s nice to see a young woman with a little meat on her bones. I told her she has good childbearing hips, and she don’t need to look like those models in that catalogue. You know the one? Veronica’s something or other? Can you imagine I got one of those in the mail? Have you ever worn those things that go up your rear end? I surely hope not.”
I resist the urge to bang my head against th
e steering wheel. Why did I think I could talk to my mother about anything?
Since I’m a sucker for punishment, I say, “Yes, Emma is a great girl. You know she sells my dolls in her shop. I’m sure Dawson can’t wait to test out her childbearing hips. He’s quite smitten with her.”
“Now, I don’t want to hear about any premarital hip testin’.”
I pretend I’m looking at my side view mirror and roll my eyes in the direction of the oncoming traffic.
I’m pretty sure Dawson and Emma will get married one day, and Mama is one to talk about sexual references no one in the world wants to hear about.
I clear my throat as I pull into the cemetery parking lot. “How about Tucker? Does he ever bring anyone over to his mama’s house?”
I park the car near enough to Meemaw’s grave so that Mama doesn’t have far to walk in the cold, but far enough away that she doesn’t bitch at me because ‘that durn foreign squeeze box of yours is in the pictures’.
Yes, she takes pictures every year. And if you notice, my brothers and my father are conspicuously missing from this event. In the Jenkins family, grieving is women’s work.
Mama grabs her purse and unclicks her seat belt. Uh oh, now she’s turning toward me with her ‘Mama is pissed’ eyes.
“Why do you care if Tucker Swanson brings a woman to visit his mama?”
Before I can answer, she puts her hand up and says, “And please do not tell me you’re worried about that boy. I know he had a crush on you all of your comin’ up years. Now don’t tell me there is all of a sudden somethin’ to that.”
I hold my car keys tighter and wince. “Well, actually…he’s been a little…attentive lately and—”
“Molly Mae Jenkins, you are still a married woman and I know you’ve been goin’ on those online dates, and I don’t agree with that, either, but if Ray ain’t comin’ back you have no choice, God forgive you. But this is unacceptable. Tucker is just a boy, and a broody loner at that. He knows nothin’ about takin’ care of a family.”
If I tell her that he’s been takin’ the girls to school, she might be ready to join Meemaw in the family plot. So, I decide to let it rest. My mother is not the woman to talk to about men.
Or anything, really.
I suppose I look appropriately chastened (even though I’m just pissed off), because Mama smiles and puts her hand on my clenched fists. “I’m sorry for bein’ so harsh, dear girl. But you know I just worry about you and the girls. You need a real man, and if Ray never comes back then of course, you need to move on, like they say in the Lifetime movies. I just want you to find another strong man, and not some boy who never did grow up.”
Mama’s definition of grownup is married with kids, and since Tucker is pushing thirty without either of those things, he’s a boy in her eyes.
I’m wondering how an older man who’s been married and has kids is any better? But Mama doesn’t know anything about stepfamilies and alimony and all the shit that rains down on you when your ‘good man’ runs off. She doesn’t know how lucky she is to have Daddy.
I tell her it’s okay and we shouldn’t be talking about this stuff today. It’s Meemaw’s day.
That shuts her up, and we get out of the car to start our ritual.
If only Meemaw was still here. She was so much more reasonable than Mama, and one thing is for sure…she loved the Swanson boys and she thought Ray was a snake in the grass.
I smile and think of how fortunate Raymond Rizzo is that Florence Bailey did not live to see his treachery.
I’m surprised she’s not haunting him. Haha…shoot, I shouldn’t be thinking about haunting in a cemetery.
“Come on, Mama, let’s arrange these flowers nicely for Meemaw.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Are you sure you don’t need any help with the photo shoot, Lia? I’m good with cameras, and I could help move the dolls around.”
Shawn’s eagerness is becoming worse by the second. I thought that boy was flirting with me, and I would expect him to be enamored with Lia, until he met her very handsome boyfriend, Logan.
But the way this boy is fawning over the photographer, and practically begging to hang around…well, it’s just sad.
Primarily because Brenda is going to drag him back to his desk by his ear if she sees him doing anything but playing with spreadsheets.
Lia smiles and says, “Shawn, really we’re good here. Please go back to work. You’ll be seeing…a lot more of Ashley.”
Shawn looks like he’s about to protest again, but a quick glance down the hall at Brenda by the coffee machine, and he scurries back to his desk like a redheaded mouse.
Ashley has been back a few times to take photos of my doll collections and she’s doing a great job.
She looks up from adjusting her lens at me and Lia. “Actually, I work best alone. We have everything set up and I have your vision in here.” She taps her strawberry blond, curly head.
I can see why Shawn is smitten. Ashley has that aloof, simple glamour that makes her seem interesting, but a little scary at the same time.
She’s wearing combat boots and a flowered, shapeless dress with a tank top underneath and many necklaces of various lengths.
Somehow, she makes this look sexy.
I turn to Lia and say, “Well, let’s get out of this lady’s way then. Let us know if you need…anything.”
Lia and I walk out into the hall and suppress our giggles.
“Jeez, she’s intense huh? But she got really good reviews for product photography.” Lia pulls me into her office and closes the door. “However, I think I may have made a grave error in judgment.”
I regard Lia’s worried pose and assure her, “Oh, she’s fine. I don’t need her to give me the warm fuzzies. Now, Shawn on the other hand…I would say his fuzzies are quite warm. Hahaha…”
Lia starts to smile a creepy grin and says, “Well…here’s the thing. Remember when I said earlier that Shawn would be seeing more of Ashley?”
“Yes, but we all will. Right? I’m sure we’ll need her to come back…what did you do?”
I purse my lips at my young investor, and she says, “Well, we needed an apartment manager. And it’s not a full-time job, so someone who has another source of income, but a flexible job, is ideal, so….”
I smirk at the realization that Ashley is our new apartment manager.
“That’s just funny, Lia. And oh my gosh, I just thought of something. She’s taking your old apartment, isn’t she? The one right next to—”
“Shawn’s. Yep. When Stan moved out, I knew that I would want to fill both of those apartments fast, and since they share a wall, it would be good if those neighbors got along. I figured two young people would work out well, but…”
“You didn’t factor in the romance with opposite sex young singles living next to each other? Why am I not surprised, sugar? I mean just a few short months ago Logan could have taken out a billboard on the highway announcing his love for you and you would have denied it. You’re not exactly the most astute when it comes to these things, are ya?”
Lia sits at her desk and puts her hands in her face. “God no, I’m not. But I can’t keep the possibility of unrequited love in mind when I rent apartments to single people. Or possible harassment. Hopefully Shawn will get over her and leave her alone. She doesn’t seem like she’s very friendly, and she didn’t even notice he was alive.”
“I’m sure it will fizzle out. You worry too much. I’m just gonna get to finalizing some sketches and talk with Henry, our fancy business consultant, and then it’s off to sling hash for another shift.”
I turn to leave, and Lia says, “Hey, maybe the middle-aged guy moving into Fred’s old place will be a good fit for you. Or at least if you don’t think so, I hope he doesn’t get any ideas about you.”
“Yes, you said he was quite handsome. You never know; he could be the one I’ve been waitin’ for. Tucker will sure be jealous.”
I cover my mouth, as if that will trap
the already escaped stupid words.
“Tucker, huh? I’ve noticed he seems to be hanging around your place a lot when I’ve been over there. Plus, he’s helping you with the girls, right?”
I feel myself blush and lean in. “And then of course there was his New Year’s Eve behavior.”
“What was that all about? You mentioned that before.”
“Well, he asked me to dance. I think a lot of people noticed, but they just chalked it up to a Swanson brother getting a little too celebratory at a celebration. Let’s just say it was not a dance with your old babysitter and childhood friend, who you like and admire as a sister.”
She raises her eyebrow and I smile. “But I can’t go gettin’ involved with Tucker Swanson. First of all, I don’t have time, and he lives next door. That’s askin’ for trouble.”
“Well, that worked well for Dawson and Emma. Why not the other Swanson brother and a different beautiful neighbor lady?”
I sigh and stare at the ceiling. “Oh, Lia. Dawson and Emma are like two sweet little cartoon characters who met at a picnic. And Tucker and I are like two…well, neither of us is very sweet, and if this goes anywhere it’s going to be all smoldering flames and drama. I don’t want to crash and burn, especially not after my asshole ex left town.”
“Okay, I respect that. Just know that I had plenty of excuses for why Logan and I couldn’t work too, and you and lots of other people encouraged me to give him a chance. So…”
“I know, you’re just sayin’. Listen, sweetie, I’ll think about it. He did say he is ready to settle down and he’s looking for a woman, but maybe he just wants my big sisterly advice on that topic.”
Lia turns on her computer and grabs her mouse, while quietly saying, “Uh huh…that could be…but it doesn’t sound like it.”
I roll my eyes at Lia and say, “You just worry about yourself, little lady. When’s Logan goin’ to propose?”
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