by Kay Shostak
“Good, I think. She just needs some time alone. I guess she’s not used to so many people around.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Plus, you know, having a baby is scary.”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Naw, I don’t think it’s that. She’s real happy about having a family.”
“How about you? How are you feeling about having a family so soon?”
He picks up his coffee and holds it in both hands as he looks over it toward the river. “It’s a change from what I thought I’d be doing. But for some reason it feels really right. Like this is what was supposed to happen. Anna and I are going to be real happy. I just feel it.”
“That’s good, I guess. She’s lucky to have you.”
“She’s different from the girls I always dated. You know, the real confident, sporty girls? The ones in charge of everything. It’s like I met her, and she needs me. But, I need her, too, because I like who I am with her more than with those other girls.”
I sit up. “Wow, you really have thought about this.”
He grins at me. “Yeah. Prayed a lot too, and that’s helped.”
I feel like I’ve kept pushing this whole situation away. Not thinking about it. Afraid if I looked too closely it would all fall apart and leave a baby, a young mother, and my disillusioned son all spinning out of control. At least out of my control. It never occurred to me that someone else could be in control. And he prayed about it? Well, that’s interesting.
He stands up. “I left Anna upstairs in the shower and I told her I’d bring her coffee up. I think I’ll be taking the last of the pot. Want me to make more?”
“No, I’ll make some in a minute. So we’re still going to Missus’ at seven tonight, right?”
“Yeah. I’m excited to see our place. I think Anna’s getting more excited, too.” He opens the kitchen door and laughs, then shakes his head “Missus still scares Anna.”
Which leaves me blinking in my chair. He finds it funny to be scared of Missus? I’m not sure if he’s praying or just drinking heavily.
By the time Anna and Will leave, Savannah is up and eating cereal on the couch watching a sitcom rerun. Bryan has stumbled through, grabbed a box of cereal and a banana, taking both downstairs to play videogames. The only thing he managed to communicate was that he and the guys were going to the waterpark at noon if I can give them a ride.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask Savannah when she turns off the TV. In the living room, she’s stretching and completing her wake-up routine. Stretching means I can actually talk to her.
“Nothing. Work.”
“You don’t usually work on Mondays,” I say.
She shakes her head and explains. “Going to go with Miss Laney over to her new B&B. She’s paying me and Angie to help her clean.”
“It’s kind of creepy over there,” I say.
That got her attention. “You’ve seen it? What do you mean ‘creepy’?”
“Yeah, me and Susan and Jordan went over last week. It’s dark. Big and dark. You know our guests this weekend, Brad and Deena? They grew up in Collinswood, and apparently an old woman was murdered there.”
“No way! That’s awesome. Is there a ghost?” she asks, but then she pauses. “Wait. Like a long time ago, right? Not recently, right?”
Lord help me, I can’t resist. “I don’t know. Felt like it happened recently as creepy as that place was.” If a mother isn’t going to strike some notches in her teenage daughters’ over-confidence, who will?
“Oh, wow. Wonder if Angie knows about it?”
My pride brings a smile, and I’m well into unloading the dishwasher when I realize Savannah is quiet. Right up until she’s standing behind me saying, “Miss Laney wants to know what you and her sister and Jordan were doing in Collinswood. Wants to know if you were spying on her?”
Oh. “Well, we just took a ride over there. There’s this place that has amazing grilled cheeses. I need to get dressed.” I’m out of the kitchen before I realize I still have a clean bowl from the dishwasher in my hands. I sit it on the end table beside the couch and hurry upstairs. Shoot. Susan’s going to kill me.
In my room, I shut the door, unplug my phone from the charger, and start dialing. “Hey Susan. Want to go to Ruby’s? Okay, great. See you there in thirty minutes. Oh, and Laney knows we went over to Collinswood. See you soon. Bye.”
Now, what to wear?
Chapter 38
“Laney was ticked. She called right after I got off the phone with you,” Susan says before I can even sit down.
“I’m not sure I even knew it was really supposed to be a secret that we went over there.”
Susan channels her inner Missus and cocks an eyebrow at me. “Really?”
“Okay, I didn’t mean to tell Savannah. I was messing with her about maybe there being a ghost. Did you know about the woman dying there?”
Susan sighs as she waves at Libby. “I didn’t put two and two together at the time. Charming House just seemed like a cute name for a B&B. Plus, everything at the time she died was about Mrs. Johnson. She was a big deal. The funeral was huge, I remember. Our church’s ladies took over a bunch of food for the funeral dinner. My kids were all small, so I didn’t go, but I made a cake, I think.”
I peer out the window onto the square. “I wonder if people will want to stay somewhere a person died. Or was murdered. By her grandchildren. Did Laney say if they’re going to play up that part of it? Like a murder mystery thing? Hey, Libby.”
Sitting our colorful fiesta-ware cups on the table, Libby welcomes us and pours our coffee. “Isn’t the waterpark the greatest? We took Forrest over there after church and had a picnic. I saw your boys. They were having a great time, too.”
“Cathy and Steven go with you?” I ask. Steven is a teacher at the high school and has a roving eye. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. Therefore, I try to keep track of his movements.
“Well, Cathy did. Steven is busy with that summer play he’s directing over at the playhouse in Dalton. Says he’s going to be getting some our Chancey actors and actresses involved.”
Both my eyebrows and Susan’s are through the roof. “Over my—”
Susan speaks over me. “Which are the good muffins today?”
“Oh, you’re going to love the blueberry streusel one. It’s got mandarin orange in it, too. You each want one?”
We nod, and she takes her coffeepot off to fill other cups on her way to the back.
I lean over the table and hiss, “There is no way on God’s green earth that Savannah is going over to Dalton to be in any play Stephen Cross is involved with.”
“Has she mentioned it?” Susan asks.
I take a minute to think back. It’s so hard to remember what all kids say, isn’t it? “I don’t think so. But it’s good to know so I can be ready if she does. So, Laney and Collinswood. What did she say?”
Susan settles back in the booth cushions. “It was strange. She was mad, but then she got all sad.” She leans up and whispers, “She started crying, but then she hung up real fast.”
“Crying again? Laney?” We’re interrupted by delivery of our muffins, and as we open them and spread butter on the halves and take first bites, we concentrate on them. The muffins are delicious. Sweet streusel crumbs with cinnamon on top and inside, big juicy blueberries. Tiny flecks of orange add to the appearance, but add even more to the taste.
After a swallow of coffee to clear my mouth, I ask, “Maybe she really is sick?”
Susan sighs again, and I know she’s been thinking the same thing. “That’s what started her crying. I didn’t say we knew she’d been to the hospital. Didn’t want her to know we know she lied about that, so I asked her how she’s been feeling. Said maybe she’s coming down with something. But she said she’s definitely not sick.”
“She looked sick on Saturday. And then she ran off like that, and didn’t come to church yesterday.”
Susan picks at her food normally when she’s eati
ng, but I watch as she picks without eating anything she’s picking. Just making little piles of muffin crumbs. “What?” I ask. “What are you thinking?”
Another sigh, and she looks up at me. “This feels so weird to say. Really impossible actually.”
“What? Tell me.”
She half-smiles and shrugs. “I think Laney’s jealous.”
I laugh. “Yeah, right. Laney? Who in the world would Laney be jealous of?”
Susan frowns. “Me. Me and Griffin.”
You know how hard it is to pull back a big, old grin and swallow it? How it causes your breath to stack up in your throat and leaves your lips nothing to do? Well, that’s what I’m doing while my friend stares at me.
“Yeah. Maybe.” I lift a hand and turn to look for Libby. I don’t even know if I need more coffee, but I’ve got to do something to hide my astonishment. Susan thinks Laney is jealous of her. Apparently Will isn’t the only one drinking.
By time Libby refills my half-empty cup, I’ve got things under control. “Yeah, that’s true. Laney could be jealous. What made you think of that?”
Susan pinches some crumbs between her finger and thumb and puts them in her mouth. Watching her, I realize she’s got lipstick on. And mascara. Her hair is in the ever-present ponytail, but it looks more intentional and not just jammed back there while she was driving. She has on jeans, but with a blouse, not a T-shirt or even a golf shirt. Wait, what’s going on?
“My sister has always had to be the center of attention, and maybe she’s not now.”
“You look nice,” I venture, “makeup and all. When do you start your new job?”
She smiles, and I see I’ve asked the right question. “Yes, my new job. Maybe Laney’s jealous of that. And, well, of Griffin’s new job.”
“I can see that. She was upset at the announcement. But, still, that seems awfully petty. Even for Laney.”
“I agree, but it’s all I can think of. And I start my new job next week. Luckily we have a summer intern at the church, so he’ll take over the stuff there and I can concentrate on the park. And Laney being jealous will blow over. She’ll get onto some new thing and be the best in the world at it, and everything will be all right again. Speaking of the church, I’ve got to get over there for the staff meeting.” She scoots out of the booth then goes back to the counter to pay for her coffee and muffin.
Libby comes by, but I wave off more coffee. “No thanks, but can you pack me up, oh, four of the new muffins? Just leave them at the counter, and I’ll be there to pay in a minute.”
Finishing this particular muffin, and resisting finishing Susan’s, I check the weather on my phone. Thunderstorms are forecasted for today, tonight, and tomorrow. Looks like the rain won’t start for a couple hours, so hopefully I’ll get home in time. I finish my coffee, do not touch Susan’s muffin, and slide out of the booth. At the back counter I’m paying Libby when Ruby comes up and stands beside her.
“That girl, the Yankee coffee girl?”
“Jordan?”
“Yeah. What’s her story? I mean, I know all about her screwing on the beach and it getting filmed, but is it right she has kids her old man is keeping her from seeing?”
“I guess, yeah. You met her husband. Diego.”
Ruby’s eyes bug out. “That’s who she was screwing around on? Law, she’s not got the brains God gave a goose. But that’s no nevermind. Although, now I’m not so sure I want to help her out.”
I’m shocked. “You’re thinking of helping her out? How?”
“She needs some food to serve over there. She wants me to make some up-north kind of stuff. I mean, it’s just recipes. How hard can they be?”
“You don’t think it’ll hurt your business here?”
Ruby wraps her wiry, muscled arms around herself and pats herself on each upper arm. “Well, I didn’t say I’d make them good.”
“Really?”
“Naw. You’re right. Folks’d know I made it, wouldn’t they? But I do feel a bit sorry for the girl. I didn’t put it together that the looker was her husband. I did meet her mother-in-law, and she’s a cold one, I tell ya. My mother-in-law was like that. Thought I wasn’t fit for her prince, so I gave her the prince back. Never did think I did right by all that. I should’ve fought more. Guess that’s what I want the girl to know. Don’t let no old woman mess up things with your man.”
Libby and I nod at her wisdom. Then Ruby slaps the counter. “You tell her. You tell her for me. Tell her I’ll make whatever it is she wants me to make. Us girls gotta stick together.” Ruby slaps the counter one more time, turns around, and walks back toward the cooking area.
“Ruby. Wait, why should I tell her what you want to say? Just call her.” But Ruby is done. She doesn’t look back at me, just waves her long arm in the air.
Libby turns to me and shrugs.
“Okay,” I say. “Give me a muffin to take to Jordan, too.”
Libby slips one in another, smaller, bag and hands it to me. “This one’s on the house.”
With my two bags, I step out into the windy, humid air and turn left on the sidewalk. My hair whips around my face, and pulling open the big old door of the bookstore/florist is near impossible with the wind holding it shut.
“Whew. At least it’s not raining,” I say as Shannon pulls the door shut behind me. “Thought I’d bring y’all some muffins.” Gertie and Patty are standing behind the book counter, and Andy is just coming down the stairs from Patty’s apartment. He hesitates when he sees me, but I yell, “Hey, Andy. Sure was nice to meet your folks yesterday.” He slowly walks on down the stairs.
Gertie looks from him to me. “Your folks? How did Carolina meet your folks when you been telling me they’re just too busy to meet me?”
See, worth buying muffins, wasn’t it?
Patty comes from around the counter, and I hold the bag of four muffins out to her. “Shannon, there’s a muffin in there for you, too.”
Shannon and Patty sit on the couch, each with a muffin in hand. Gertie has come out to meet Andy on his way to the couch. “Your folks, son?”
He shrugs and maneuvers around her. “They were just in town. Carolina ran into them.”
I plant my hands on my hips and squint at him as he makes his way to the chair facing away from Gertie and then reaches into the bag for a muffin. “Ooh, blueberry. These look delicious. We should think about asking Ruby for a muffin wedding cake. You know how people are making their cakes out of a pyramid of cupcakes? We could do muffins.”
Apparently, he needs a little help from me to answer his future mother-in-law. “Since you have the minister all figured out, Andy, you’re moving on to the wedding cake? Gertie, at least you know you’ll get to meet Rev. and Mrs. Taylor at the wedding since he’s officiating.”
Patty chews her mouthful of muffin, but her mouth is still half full when she puts it together and mumbles, “Your daddy is a preacher?”
Andy cocks his head and scrunches up his face. “Didn’t I tell you that?”
Patty shakes her head. “Guess it don’t matter none. Just seems funny I didn’t know.”
Gertie has moved to stand over the chair her future son-in-law is sitting in. “Funny is one word for it. Just hope it’s the only word for it.”
“Andy?” I say trying to get him to fill them in, but he just looks at me and grins, so I do it. “And you’ll get to see them in the Wednesday paper. Wouldn’t surprise me if they are on the very front page.”
Shannon blurts, “Oh, the picketing! Were they with the picketers?”
Gertie and Patty wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, I can’t stand it. “Andy told his parents that everybody in Chancey was against MoonShots being open on Sunday mornings, but that the churches were being kept quiet by, well, by whom, Andy?”
He lifts his shoulders and says, “Missus, I guess. Don’t know I really said by who.”
Gertie looks even more confused. “But why?” She sits down in the chair next to his.
He sh
rugs again and continues eating.
Patty is watching her mother, when Shannon gets up, brushing crumbs from her hands. “Thanks for the muffin, Miss Carolina. That was delicious.” At the end of the couch, she stops. She has on a pale yellow jumper that shows off her dark hair and fits her short stature. She firms up her shoulders and places her hands on her hips. “Andy, it’s not funny you talking bad about Chancey. We’ve been real nice to you. Now for your folks to think we’re bad and don’t like MoonShots. Well, you just better never do anything like that to our business. You’ve already made it look like a junk store.”
And like she’s just walked in, Gertie looks around her. Her gaze settles on the junkier aspects of the place and then about the time Shannon gets back to her counter in the flower store side, Gertie’s eyes stop on Andy. “Son, me and you got some talking to do.”
Patty leans forward. “Mama, don’t you mess this up for me.”
“We’re just gonna talk,” Gertie says, still staring at Andy who is happily eating his muffin. She repeats, after she turns her head toward her daughter. “Patricia Louise, we’re just gonna talk.” Then she looks up at me. “’Preciate the heads up, Carolina. And the muffin. I’ll take it from here.”
With a nod at her, and a glance to see if Patty looks mad, I turn around.
My work here is done. Now on to next door. Shannon shakes her head at me and grins.
Apparently there’s a lull in the wind, and as I push open the door, it opens easily. Too easily. I pile out and would’ve fallen into a heap on the sidewalk, if I hadn’t ended up in Peter’s arms.
“Hey there,” he says as he stands me up. “You okay?”
“Yeah, door seemed to just give way. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. You headed home?”
“Nope,” I hold up the small bag. “I’ve got a muffin for Jordan.”
“That’s where I’m headed,” Peter says, and he extends his arm out for me to lead the way.
We fight the wind down the street to enter the coffee shop. It’s so quiet, smells heavenly, and is blessedly cool. For some reason the humidity doesn’t seem to invade this place like next door or Ruby’s. Probably some new age insulation that also keeps it from smelling like an old building. It smells new, and like coffee. This place makes me miss our home back in the suburbs, again. Nothing else here in Chancey reminds me of Marietta like this place. Old buildings can be beautiful to look at, and connect you to the past, but they might just be overrated. Unless you have the bucks to completely redo them and make them seem like new.