by Lisa Smartt
I opened the front door and said, “You first.”
She immediately started mumbling something about the miracle of push-up bras and how chunky scarves were invented by women who hate men.
Chapter 28, SARAH: There’s More to Life than Good Salsa
There aren’t that many places to go for dinner in Weakley County. Brian texted me last night asking if I wanted to go to Paducah or Jackson. I said I wasn’t picky and a local place would be fine. Carlie picked out a black pair of pants and a bright red shirt for me to wear. I felt red was a little too…I don’t know. But Carlie said red indicated an openness to romance and adventure. I think she reads too many women’s magazines.
I found myself pacing, waiting for the knock on the door. Mama called at ten till six to remind me to be friendly and not to talk about the school kids too much. Her exact words? “No doctor wants to hear long drawn-out stories about kids fighting on the playground or costumes for the Thanksgiving play.” Thanks, Mom. I was gonna try to wow him with a question about what a 3rd grade Miles Standish should wear. But now you’ve given me serious cause to reconsider. Good night. I know she was just trying to be helpful. Everyone is just trying to be helpful. Now it’s too late ‘cause the knock on the door finally came.
“Brian, hey, come on in. Let me grab my purse and we’ll be ready.” He looked even better than I expected. Ironed khaki pants, probably done at the dry cleaners in Martin. Blue and white striped oxford shirt, navy jacket. He wasn’t wearing the wire-rim glasses he had on at the hospital. Must have contacts in. Eyes really blue.
“Sarah, you look beautiful. Red, it’s your color.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m up for Mexican food in Martin. You?”
“Sure. Sounds great!”
The Mexican restaurant was crowded, which was odd for a Tuesday night. But then I remembered it was discount night at the movie theater and maybe there was a connection. We had to sit close on the little wooden bench because an older couple was sitting beside us. We talked about his parents, still living in Knoxville. We talked about my mom, still working at the nursing home. Conversation was dwindling a bit, when I heard a familiar sound. A sound I had heard all my life.
“Law mercy, what in tarnation is goin’ on ‘round here? Is there a convention in town? Lord, why don’t these college students eat in the dorm? Their mamas and daddies done paid for all that perfectly good food.”
I turned to see Charlotte Nelson with her arm around our teenage hostess. The young girl replied, “Not sure, really. But we’ll get you seated as fast as we can.”
“Thank ya, Baby!” She turned and immediately made eye contact with me. “Oh look, Bart, look who’s here! Look at this, would ya?”
Brian stood and extended his hand. I stood because, well, I wasn’t sure what to do. Brian spoke kindly because he probably didn’t know what he was getting himself into. “Hello again. Nice to see you two!”
Charlotte laughed. “Thank ya, Baby. You too. We was up at the hospital seein’ Chester this afternoon.” She squeezed my hand. “Sarah, they think he’ll go home tomorrow. Yes, Ma’am. Reckon the ol’ cuss dodged another bullet. Anyway, well, Matthew dropped by the hospital on his way home from work. Offered to take us out to dinner seein’ as how he’s eaten at our place a few times and he ain’t much of one for cookin’. He’s in the bathroom right now.” She whispered as though she were relaying a terrible secret. “I think he drinks a lot of that yellow Gatorade during the day. Bless him.”
Brian stayed calm. “Well, it was good to see you two. We’ll let you get back to your waiting, I guess.”
Charlotte was not done yet. “Oh Honey, we got nothin’ but time.” The older couple beside us got called to a table and Charlotte squeezed herself onto the bench right next to Brian. “Baby, you smell good. Sure do. I always figured a doctor would smell like rubbing alcohol or formaldehyde. But you smell good. Oh, look! Here comes Matthew now!”
Matthew walked toward us but I couldn’t tell whether his expression was one of apathy or if he was just trying to play it cool. He had on the exact same clothes he wore when he returned from the mystery trip. Plaid cowboy shirt, dark jeans, brown cowboy boots. His hair was damp which made it wavy. Good-looking without being haughty or proud. Chester’s words had gone through my mind at least 1000 times in the last few days. Matthew likes you, Sarah. Now I was starting to wonder if they were just the words of an old man who thought he was dying, an old man who wished things were one way…even though they weren’t that way at all.
Matthew managed a smile, as he extended his hand. “Dr. Carter.”
“You can call me Brian.”
“Thanks.” Matthew looked into my eyes and I couldn’t help but remember the day he touched my face, the day he whispered my name. I wanted so much to go back to that day, to rewind and have another chance. He nodded. “Hey, Sarah.”
“Hi Matthew. Glad to hear Chester’s improving. I was gonna call the hospital later tonight.”
“Yeah, it’s good news. Look, we’re just here to eat so we’ll let you two get back to your…” He paused. “Your…”
Brian replied enthusiastically, “Our date?”
Matthew turned away and looked at the busy hostess. “Yeah.”
Charlotte jumped in. “As crowded as it is in here, ain’t no way we’re gonna get a table fore my blood sugar drops.” She patted Brian’s knee. “Thank God there’s a doctor in the house, huh?”
She immediately yelled out to the hostess. “We saw our friends over here! So if you got a table for five, we’ll take it!”
Matthew turned and looked at Charlotte like she had just blown up the Pentagon. “No. No, they don’t want to do that, Aunt Charlotte. We should leave them alone. Really.”
But the wheels were already in motion. In less than a minute, the hostess came back and said, “Charlotte, table of five.”
I glanced at Brian, but I couldn’t read his expression. You’d think he’d be sad about having to share me. Sad about not getting all my attention. And maybe he was. But he wasn’t sad enough to stand up to Charlotte Nelson. And I wasn’t sad at all.
Charlotte and Bart led the way behind the hostess. Matthew stayed near the back and whispered, “I’m sorry, guys.”
Brian smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”
Charlotte began with her latest dieting revelations. “Dr. Carter, I figure I can eat tortilla chips ‘cause corn is a vegetable and ever’body talks about the healing power of vegetables.”
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. Matthew, what do you do?”
“I’m a mechanic. In Bradford.”
“It’s always good to know a mechanic.”
Matthew glanced through the menu. “I guess. Sarah, what’s the latest news in third grade?”
“Big big excitement in Ms. Sarah’s class today. We got a gerbil. A real live gerbil. His name is T.G. It stands for…well, guess. Guess what it stands for.”
Charlotte grinned. “Terrible George.”
“Nope.”
Brian said, “Theodore Girard.”
I laughed. “Good guesses, all. Keep going. You’ll get it eventually.”
Bart said, “Tyler somethin’ or other.”
“No. Not Tyler.”
“I named him myself. Matthew, any guesses?”
He set the menu down and looked into my eyes. “T.G., huh? I’m thinking it stands for The Gerbil.”
“Ding ding. We have a winner. How did you know?”
He raised his eyebrows and looked into my eyes. “I guess I figured a no-nonsense woman would give a gerbil a no-nonsense name.”
He was right. How could he have possibly known? He went right back to looking at the menu but he smiled like he was proud of himself for knowing the answer, for knowing me.
Charlotte quickly changed the subject. “Dr. Carter, how do you like being back in West Tennessee?”
“I like it. Yeah, a lot quieter. Slower pace than my residency, of course.”<
br />
Matthew grabbed a chip. “Where did you do your residency?”
“St. Thomas in Nashville.”
“Nashville’s a great city.”
“It is. Matthew, are you from around here?”
“No. California originally. San Diego area.”
“San Diego? And what brought you to Sharon, Tennessee, from San Diego?”
Matthew didn’t hesitate. “Prison, I guess.”
The table was silent. Brian coughed and then put a chip in his mouth. Even Charlotte had nothing to add. Matthew looked straight at me and continued. “I left San Diego to go to law school at Vanderbilt. Got on drugs and flunked out. Killed two people in a car wreck.” He looked back at the menu. “Did fourteen years. That’s where I met Dusty McConnell. And that’s how I’m here. He owns the shop in Bradford.”
Brian looked like he’d been hit by a meteor. “Wow, that’s quite a story.” He scooted his chair back and looked around. “Where is that waitress? They seem overrun tonight.”
Waitress? You just heard Matthew say what he said and you’re wondering where the waitress is? Wondering why we can’t order our fajitas and move on with our lives? I drank the last of my water. “Matthew is getting ready to be a TV star, Brian.”
“He is, is he?”
“Yeah. A & E is doing a new show called, ‘Sweet Southern Freedom.’ It’s about Dusty’s shop, his time in prison, and his hiring of Matthew. Second chances and all.”
“Sounds like a smart idea.”
Matthew’s phone buzzed. He jumped up. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” He briskly walked outside. I watched him pacing on the sidewalk.
Brian turned to make eye contact with me. “Did you know that about him? The prison thing?”
“I did.”
“And people around here, they’re okay with it?”
“I don’t know. Chester and Ida adore him. Everyone says he does great work at the shop. He spoke at this rally downtown and it seemed to mean a lot to a lot of people.”
“Yeah, but…I mean, Sarah, I would think you, of all people…would be a little…”
“A little put out with him for driving while he was on drugs? For killing someone? Two people?”
“Yeah.”
“He was twenty-one years old, Brian. He did fourteen years in prison.” My voice escalated a bit. “Fourteen years. And he’s still doing time. The person he killed was his own sister, his sister and her roommate. Mary was his best friend. ”
Matthew ran to the table. “Uncle Bart, we need to go now. Mrs. Ida. She needs us.”
Chapter 29, CARLIE: Will This Circle Be Unbroken?
Chester Miller died tonight at 7:08 pm. Massive heart attack. Less than an hour earlier, he said he was feeling better than he’d felt in years. He ate broiled chicken breast and red Jell-O from the hospital tray. He promised Janie Evans he was going to stop eating fried food and bacon. He told Dr. Burton about the time a rabid squirrel got into the old school house and Miss Henderson knocked a hole in the floor with a sledge hammer trying to kill it. He told Mrs. Ida she was prettier than the day she married him out under the pecan trees on her daddy’s farm in Palmersville. Then he died. Mrs. Ida was holding his hand the whole time.
Janie Evans called us and we immediately called Matthew’s cell phone. Doug stayed with James and I went to be with Mrs. Ida at the hospital. As I entered the emergency room door, I saw Uncle Bart, Aunt Charlotte, Matthew, Dr. Carter, and Sarah running through the parking lot.
Aunt Charlotte was already crying hard. “Oh Lord, I can’t take it! I can’t! Poor Ida. She won’t make it. She won’t!” Picante sauce stains were all over the front of Aunt Charlotte’s Sunday dress. It was the green knit dress with the wide black belt. The one she always wore to funerals and weddings. I’m sure she thought Matthew Prescott’s dinner invitation was worthy of the best she had to offer.
Uncle Bart put his arm around her as we rushed into the elevator. “She’ll make it, Charlotte. She ain’t got no choice. She’ll make it.”
Matthew’s face was white but he remained silent.
As though we were somehow blaming him, Dr. Carter said, “He was 88 years old. There’s only so much any of us could have done.”
Sarah leaned toward Matthew and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, Matthew. So sorry.”
Matthew looked at Sarah like he’d lost his best friend, like he wanted to tell Dr. Brian Carter to go away forever. But he didn’t say it. He wouldn’t say it. He wiped tears from his face and spoke quietly. “Thank you.”
In a few seconds, Sarah let go of his hand and moved back next to her date. All of us dreaded the elevator doors opening. Pure dread. But the doors did open. And the moment they did, we heard the quiet sobs.
Mrs. Ida was sitting in a green vinyl chair with her head in her hands. She had on light blue double-knit pants and a button-up blouse with white and blue flowers all over it. It’s the same outfit meemaws everywhere wear. Except Mrs. Ida had never been a mother or a grandmother. Chester was her family. Her everything.
Matthew Prescott was the brave one. His bravery was never more evident than it was at 7:51 pm on the night Chester Miller died. He literally ran ahead of all of us. He knelt in front of Mrs. Ida and placed his hands gently on her knees. When she saw him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried out in pain. “Oh, Matthew, Matthew! He’s gone. What am I gonna do? He’s gone.”
She laid her white head gently on his strong chest and he stroked her hair. Tears ran down his face but he spoke with quiet authority. “I know. I know. He was a good man. The best.” She leaned back into the chair and he grabbed both of her hands. “I’ll take care of you, Mrs. Ida. I will. You and me, we’re a team now. Family. I’ll take care of everything. I promise.”
Even Uncle Bart started crying. “Gall darn pollen in the air. I’m headin’ to the john.”
Aunt Charlotte put her hand on Mrs. Ida’s shoulder. “Oh Ida, I’m so sorry. We all are.”
She wiped her eyes with an old handkerchief embossed with blue flowers. “Thank ya, Charlotte. Thank ya.”
We sat with Mrs. Ida for more than thirty minutes. Matthew finally got her to drink water and eat part of a ham sandwich. He stood and spoke like a father speaking to a daughter. “Mrs. Ida, we probably need to go on home now. We’ll go to the funeral home as soon as they open in the morning.”
She lifted her head. “He’s at Groeden’s. Right down there by the flower shop. Chester’s had it all arranged for years.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sure he has it all worked out. But you need to get some rest.”
Uncle Bart put his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I’ll pull the van around. Just bring her down to that side entrance.”
“Will do.”
Janie Evans pulled Matthew aside and handed him a small medicine bottle. Dr. Burton had already come by and given Mrs. Ida a sleeping pill.
Dr. Carter extended his hand to her. “I hope you’ll be able to get some sleep, Ma’am.”
She shook her head as Matthew reached over and completely enveloped her in his arms. He leaned his head forward to rest gently on top of hers. She said quietly, “Thank you, Matthew. Thank you.” Matthew held her up as they walked slowly toward the elevator.
Sarah looked at Dr. Carter like the dog ate her homework. “I’m sorry, Brian. I really should go with Mrs. Ida. There are things she might need me to do for her, things Matthew wouldn’t feel comfortable doing.”
Dr. Carter hesitated. “Yes, well, of course. You should go. No problem. Can I call you later?”
“Sure, that’s fine. Matthew, wait for me! I’m coming with you.”
Chapter 30, SARAH: Learning to Live Again
I remained quiet in the elevator. Matthew had finally gotten Mrs. Ida calmed down and I didn’t want to say or do anything that might resurrect the outward grieving. At one point, it almost looked like she was closing her eyes and going to sleep against his chest. She never let go of Matthew and he never let go of her.
/>
Bart and Charlotte had already pulled the van around. I slid into the very back seat so that Matthew could sit across from Mrs. Ida in the Captain’s chairs. The ten minute trip to their home was completely silent, except for the occasional sobs. As Bart pulled into the drive, Mrs. Ida spoke though her voice was weak. “Sixty-eight years. Sixty-eight years I been cookin’ his breakfast, ironin’ his clothes, doin’ for him. So what am I supposed to do now?”
Charlotte answered, “I don’t know, Ida. I don’t know. Matthew’ll help ya though. He will.”
Bart helped her onto the porch as Matthew unlocked the front door. “Now Ida, you know we’s only a phone call away. Only a phone call away.”
“Thank ya, Bart.”
Matthew and I were on each side of Mrs. Ida as we entered the front door. Her knees began to give but he caught her.
Matthew said, “I’ll help get her to the bedroom. You think you can get her ready for bed?”
“Sure. Mrs. Ida, let’s get your night clothes on.”
She mumbled but we couldn’t understand her words.
She sat on the edge of the bed and began sobbing again. Matthew kneeled down in front of her. It was the most beautiful thing I’d witnessed in a long long time. He carefully unstrapped her orthopedic shoes and then pulled them off so gently. As he removed her thin blue socks he spoke with kindness. “Mrs. Ida, Sarah is going to help you. She’s going to help you get ready for bed.”
Her words were slurred. “What about Chester? Where’s Chester?”
Matthew looked at me, as though he were unsure what to say or do. Finally he got up the courage. “Mrs. Ida, he’s gone…gone to heaven, remember?”
She began to sob quietly. Matthew wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll see him again. You will.”
I whispered, “Matthew, we’ll be fine. I’ll help her get ready.” I’m not sure what Dr. Burton gave her, but it was potent. Within five minutes, I had gotten her in an old flannel night gown and she was snoring loudly. I slipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly open.
I stood at the door to the living room. The lights were all out except for the hallway light. I could barely see Matthew sitting in the brown vinyl chair. His head was in his hands. He glanced over at Chester’s recliner. “Saturday night we watched an educational show about Eisenhower. Said he remembered when he was president. Remembered hearing him on the radio. He may not have been educated. But he wasn’t dumb. He was a smart man, Sarah. Wise.”