by Kay Shostak
“That’s a woman from one of the soap operas. I don’t know her, but she’s apparently famous and a friend of Jordan’s. Can you believe it?”
“No, but they do look pretty out of control.”
Shannon rolls her eyes at me again. “That’s not what I meant! Can you believe we know celebrities now? This is amazing.” She pulls the phone around to see it better. “Apparently this video went viral and, like I said, was on TMZ. The guy that made the video then followed the women and took more video of them on the beach with the guys from the club.”
I walk around our shelves, admiring the work we’ve done. The shelves are only a little over half full, but it all looks great, and I have to admit it’s due to Andy. From the shelves to the furniture to the books, and even the decorating, he’s saved us. Pulling my purse over my shoulder, I ask, “But why is all that of interest to the Atlanta stations? Not like its real news.” I don’t want to encourage the drama, so I’m acting uninterested, but wonder what this has to do with Jordan not being with her children?
Shannon finally looks up from her phone and tilts her head at me. “Yeah, you’re right.” She looks back down and pushes buttons. “And there’s nothing new online yet. All this is old stuff. Guess we’ll have to wait to see it on the news tonight.”
“That’s good, ‘cause I’m headed home now. Patty is next door with Jordan. If you have to leave, make sure the back door is unlocked in case she doesn’t have her keys.”
She does it again. Her eyes roll up, and she laughs. “Like I’m leaving before she comes back and tells me what’s going on!”
On the sidewalk, I look up at the cloudless sky. “So, you don’t think I get enough eye-rolling at home? I’m getting it at work now? Not funny, God.”
Chapter 13
Of course, the tornado and its damage led the early Atlanta news programs, and I have the TV in our bedroom turned up all the way so I can hear it down the hall in Will’s room. I can’t believe Laney rented this room out to Missus and FM without lifting a finger to clean it up. Since Jackson moved back in with me, this room has become a catch-all for winter clothes I planned on putting away.
I’m boxing them up and stacking them in Bryan’s room until Jackson gets home and can put them in the attic. When I hear the newscaster say “Chancey,” I run to my bedroom. I have it recording downstairs, but I don’t want to miss it.
The camera pans over the square, and the limbs are still strewn about. Folks walking around are in hastily thrown on clothes or robes, and everyone looks shell-shocked. Peter has his arm around his mother in front of her home, and FM is at the corner of the house pointing to the back. While the picture focuses on the downed tree behind the house, the reporter talks about Chancey being awakened by the storm and that many feel the damage is light for how loud the storm was.
And, of course, they find Hughie. They should have sub-titles, because even people who have lived in these mountains all their lives and talked to Hughie for all of his eighty some-odd years can’t understand him. Do they talk to educated, worldly Peter, standing right there? Or any of the people I can see who wouldn’t make us look like we just crawled out of the woods after tending to our stills? No. Hughie tells his story, shows off his couple teeth, and shoves his hands in the chest pockets of his bib overalls as he watches the reporter walk down the sidewalk.
“Chancey’s newest business opened this week and may be a surprise to our viewers. Only last year, Moonshots opened up its first Georgia store in the upscale Avenues outdoor mall in Cobb County. Now, apparently with no fanfare or even PR, Moonshots has opened a store in this tiny town, miles off the interstate.”
No longer does concern etch the reporter’s downturned mouth and sad eyes. He’s on full alert, eyes bright, nostrils flared, and as he makes his way to the window, he points inside. “And where you might ask would Diego Moon find a manager for this store tucked in the Georgia mountains? Turns out, right in his own home.”
The camera swings to show Jordan behind the counter. “Jordan Moon once worked for Diego Moon’s fledging enterprise, MoonShots, beginning as a barista, much like the young people you see here. She moved up in the organization and began opening new stores, continuing in that position after they were married four years ago. With the birth of their daughters, however, she stepped down.” While he’s talking, we see a picture of Jordan and the gorgeous man from the picture in her apartment. Jordan is holding an infant wrapped in a pink blanket and a toddler is held securely in her father’s arms. They all four look like models. The pictures fade and the camera comes back to the reporter, and his eyes glitter. “However, since January, Jordan Moon has been in the headlines, for a couple more interesting reasons, as Tina Fox tells us.”
Here, older footage begins showing more pictures of the happy couple, evolving into a family of four, living the high life in New York City. Jordan wearing evening gowns and high heels, on the arm of the man I learn is her husband, Diego. There are several pictures of an elegant older woman who turns out to be Francesca Moon Sentora, mother of Diego and wife to one of the best known billionaires in the world. We’re further told that her first husband, Diego Moon, Sr., died twenty years ago in his home country of Columbia, where he ran his family’s coffee plantation.
“This past New Year’s Eve the perfect family exploded when these videos turned up on TMZ of actress Betsie Steger, Jordan Moon, and daughter of New York governor Michael Manchester, Alison Manchester, apparently having sex on the beach in Miami with some unidentified men.”
Clutching the pillow from my bed, I lean toward the TV. Even with things blocked out, the pictures are nearly pornographic. I recognize the governor’s daughter and the actress from one of the kid shows Bryan used to watch, and I vaguely remember this story from back at the first of the year. Of course, then I didn’t recognize Jordan, and I’m not sure they even talked much about her. And then the reporter says just that.
“Mrs. Moon wasn’t focused on much at the time as Ms. Steger was in negotiations with Disney for a major picture, which fell through after the videos were made public. But the biggest story was Governor Manchester’s inauguration being the next day, January second. Stories filled the New York papers and media as Alison joined her parents on the dais.” Side by side pictures of the young woman on the beach and then gazing at her father taking his oath of office were too good to pass up, obviously. “However, in recent weeks, Jordan Moon’s location became a topic of discussion when New York tabloids noticed her missing from her usual routines, her daughters being seen mostly with their grandmother, and less often with their father. Further speculation swirled when her parents, Jim and Marilyn Holmes of Peotone, Illinois, contacted by TMZ, said they were worried about their daughter as they had not heard from her. And their son-in-law wouldn’t take their phone calls.”
Footage from Jordan handing out free coffee in front of her store crossed the screen while Tina in the studio tossed the report back to the reporter in Chancey. “So, Jim, looks like today’s tornado solved one mystery, but I bet there are a lot of whole new questions today.”
“Trash,” Missus announces from my bedroom door. “That’s not news, that’s gossip and trash and should not be anyone’s focus when lives have been turned upside down by Mother Nature. Where’s our room?”
“Next door,” I say as I stand up. “I just have one more box to bring out of there, and it should be ready.” Seems someone has forgotten that she had a baby with someone other than her husband, gave the baby girl up for adoption, then refused to acknowledge her own granddaughter. Yep, some folks give themselves a clean slate, and we all just let ‘em do it. Squeezing around her, I step into the room. “Here you go. Hope it’ll be comfortable.”
Missus sniffs and steps back out in the hall to let me back out through the door with the box. “It’ll have to do, I suppose, until we move downstairs after the weekend.” She goes into the room. “FM is bringing . Where should we put them?”
I look around the r
oom. “Wherever you like. The only empty drawer is the top one and the closet has things hanging in it, but there’s a bit of room.”
“Oh, no, there is not enough space for all our suitcases. We had to pack for several weeks, you understand. When will Jackson be home? He’ll have a solution, I’m sure.”
“You think I’m holding out on you? That there’s some empty closet I’m hiding?” I deposit the box in Bryan’s room and come to lean on the door jamb. “Leave some of your clothes in your car, or store them at Peter’s house.”
“Carolina, you just don’t understand. Leave me alone now. Go downstairs and direct FM up here when he comes in.”
I take a deep breath and try to think of something kind to say. But, well, really? I’m supposed to try and understand her? So I let go the deep breath, turn around, and walk down the stairs. At the bottom, I hear my phone ringing from my purse in the kitchen.
I miss the call, but see it’s from Laney, so I call her back. “Hey, did you see the news?”
“Oh my word!” Laney chirps. “I remember it all now, but I’d never put it together with our Jordan. No wonder she doesn’t think her mother-in-law will bring the children to see her.”
“You think her husband opened up our Moonshots just to hide her away?”
“Looks that way. And putting together everything we’ve heard, it makes sense. Wonder what’ll happen now. Hey, Missus there yet?”
I lean against the door frame. “Oh, yes, her highness is here and highly displeased. Glad I have the bookstore to escape to everyday. Gotta go, FM’s coming up the front walk, loaded down with the royal garments, I suppose. I better go help him. Talk to you later.”
Someone had attempted to call while we were talking, and while checking, I see both Susan and Savannah had called me this afternoon. Apparently a couple times each since I went upstairs earlier. Tucking my phone in my jeans pocket, I hurry to open the front door for FM.
“Hey there, not sure where you’re going to put all that. Will’s room is pretty small.”
He stops at the bottom of the porch steps and looks up at me. His gaze is so sad and so tired.
I smile and say, “Aw, bless your heart. It’s been a horrible day, hasn’t it? Here, let me help you.”
With the door held open, I lift a roller bag up the steps and set it just inside the living room, then reach for one of the shoulder bags hanging from his arm. “How you doing, FM?”
He shakes his head, sits his bags next to mine behind the couch, then steps back onto the porch to pick up another bag. We settle both bags on top of the pile of luggage and go back on to the porch.
“Let’s have a sit for a moment. I’m about plum worn out,” he says as he lowers himself into one of the rocking chairs on the front porch.
The brisk wind had swept the leaves, torn off in the storm, out of our yard. Small, fluffy white clouds, gathering tinges of pink, rush across the sky and river and on the breeze a chill sweeps across the porch and us.
FM chuckles as he lays his head back. “Hard to believe y’all sitting here on top of the hill, and the tornado plum misses ya and finds us buried down in town.”
“Were you and Missus asleep when it hit?”
“Not really. First of all, sleeping well belongs to young people. Me and her are up and about through the night anyway, but then with the weather alerts on the radio and the howling of the wind, we never did completely conk out. But even still, we hardly knew what was happening until it was over. Wind picked up, tree fell down, and everything got quiet again.”
“Yeah, apparently we slept right through it up there on the second floor. It never sounded bad enough to come downstairs.”
We continue to rock, and in a minute, I hear him snore. I keep rocking beside him and think about how life turns on a dime. So much has changed since this time last night. For Jordan and her family. For those whose homes got hit, and for those who didn’t, like us having Missus and FM and Will and Anna moving in.
Will and Anna. A couple. A married couple living here with us. My head just keeps shaking. I didn’t even realize they were still dating. He was courting her during Spring Break, but I never saw them together much. Then she went to Athens for a long weekend, but I thought it was to see friends. Okay, so, I guess he was the friend. The whole things just makes me so sad, and honestly, it would’ve been easier to have them living with Missus and FM, so I wouldn’t have to act all happy and excited all the time. Aren’t you supposed to get a break from your own kids long enough to make you excited about grandkids? Of course, I’ll love the baby. And it’s not that I think I’m too young to be a grandmother. I’m just still in full mother mode. Oh well, guess that’s just too bad. Ready or not, it’s coming.
My eyes drift shut, but before I fully fall asleep, car doors slamming cause me to lift my head and pull my eyelids open. Savannah and Angie never stop talking as they walk up the dirt driveway. I put my finger to my lips and point with my other hand at FM.
They nod and smile and tiptoe up the three small steps.
“Oh, hey girls,” FM mumbles. “Guess I drifted off. Been a long day.”
“Yeah, sorry to hear about your house, Mr. FM,” Angie says. Her voice is soft and tired. She hides a yawn behind her hand and with her black fingernails, black-rimmed eyes, pale skin, and long, dyed-black hair, she looks like a vampire returning from a full night of hunting.
“Things busy at the store today?” I ask. She’s a cashier at the Piggly Wiggly and works an amazing number of hours. No way am I letting Savannah work that much at MoonShots. I know Laney and Shaw provide everything their twins need and want, and Jenna hasn’t had a job until this new one at Moonshots. Guess Angie just likes being at the Pig more than school or home. Knowing Laney, Jenna, and Shaw—I can buy that.
“Yeah, once power came back on we were busy all day. Lots of folks stocking up on supplies in case another storm hits. But, really, like we’re going to get another tornado. I think people just wanted to drive around and see things and for that, they needed an excuse.”
Savannah cocks her head. “So Mr. FM, you and Missus are staying here, Peter said. And Will and Anna, too.”
He nods. “Looks thataway. Paying customers, too. So, I expect to be treated real special now,” he says with a laugh and a wink. He pushes up out of the chair. “Guess I better get moving. Missus will be wanting to get settled in.”
“Girls, help him carry his stuff upstairs. They are in Will’s old room through the weekend,” I say and they begin loading up.
“Oh, and Carolina, I have a pot of beef stew all made up we can heat for dinner. It’s in the car. I’d put it together yesterday, hated to see it go to waste. Luckily, our power wasn’t out long. Didn’t lose any food, but I’ll go down and get more to cook this week. You don’t need to worry about feeding all of us, too. You know I enjoy messing around in the kitchen.”
“You are a godsend,” I say as I get up. “Car unlocked? I’ll get it and put it on to warm.”
He nods yes, and I walk down the steps and the sidewalk. At the car, I hold my face to the driver’s window and see a pot sitting in the back floorboard, nestled in towels. I walk around the car and open the door.
“Hey, Mom,” Bryan calls as he and Grant walk across the railroad crossing. “What ya doing?”
“Oh, hey there. I’m getting some beef stew FM brought. He and Missus are going to be staying with us until their house is ready. Will and Anna will be here next week to stay, too.”
“Cool. Did you hear we have school tomorrow?” Both boys frown and shake their heads.
Grant raises his hands in frustration. “What’s the good of a tornado if you only get one day off school?”
I shake my head in mock sympathy. “Tough break, guys. Here, give me a hand, and let’s take this stuff inside. Grant, you want to stay for dinner? This pot of stew is huge.”
He lifts a box out of the car and juggles to get a better grip. “Thanks, but I can’t.”
Bryan laughs, a
nd he stretches to put the handles of two big shopping bags over his shoulder. “He’s failing English. He’s grounded from anything fun. He only got to come up here for a minute ’cause his mom said she couldn’t stand the sight of him right now.”
Grant sheepishly grins as I slam the car door shut with my hip. “Grant. You’re smart. How are you failing English?”
Bryan laughs again. “He’s in love with Miss Wasser, the English teacher.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You just sit and stare at her all class.”
Grant playfully kicks out at Bryan, but my son dances away. “See, Mom, you thought it was bad my girlfriend is a year older than me. What if I was in love with some teacher?”
Grant’s good humor begins to evaporate, and his face is flushed red when he says, “You wish Brittani was just your girlfriend. She’s lots of guys’ girlfriend.”
“Grant! That’s not nice to say,” I interject before Bryan launches at his friend. Stepping between them on the porch, I nudge Grant on inside and pause on the threshold so I can turn around and look at my son. “Bryan, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Grant’s just jealous. Where do you want this stuff?”
Still not letting him pass, I try to catch his eye, but he’s not having it. “Okay, we’ll talk later. Take it upstairs to Will’s room.” I let him pass, but he shoots a dark look at Grant before going up the stairs.
“Grant, you can set that box down on the kitchen table. Looked like more food. Then you’d better get on home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and he’s gone before I can get the pot into the kitchen.
I turn the stove burner on low and stir the stew a bit. I knew that Brittani was trouble. Just knew it.
Okay, so that makes me a little happy. And mad. Mostly mad, now that I think about it. I knew he was too young for a girlfriend.
Chapter 14
“What is wrong with you two?” I slam the glass door behind me and scurry across the florist shop to stand in front of Jordan and block her from view of any prying eyes on the sidewalk. “People can see right in here.”