Gloria’s Secret

by Robin Alexander

  I was still learning how to live with a partner who could tap into my mind. It never failed to surprise me when she commented on something I was thinking.

  “I can’t help but worry because if they’re rude to you, it’s going to infuriate me, and we’ll be in a hotel planning our flight back to the island.”

  “Sweetie, I can handle myself. You just concentrate on having a nice visit. Besides, it’ll be over before you know it, and we’ll be back on the island.”

  I took a chance and allowed one hand off the wheel long enough to clutch Adrienne’s. “Promise me if you feel uncomfortable, you’ll let me know. I have no qualms about packing up and going home, even if we’ve only been there an hour.”

  Even though she agreed, I knew Adrienne would never tell me if she was unhappy. She’d tough it out to allow me time with my family. That thought saddened me, but it made me love her more for the sacrifice she would undoubtedly make.

  When lunchtime rolled around, we were going through Alabama and ran into a traffic snarl. The interstate had come to a stop.

  “Want to get off at the next exit and see if they have something to eat?” Adrienne asked as we began moving at a snail’s pace.

  “Sounds good,” I replied, hoping the exit had a Taco Bell. But as things worked, there was no such luck, and going to the next exit would take more time than I had patience. “There’s a barbecue joint, wanna try your luck?”

  Adrienne smiled. “Why not? Maybe the food will be much better than the place looks.”

  As we extricated ourselves from the miniscule car, a thought occurred to me, and if Adrienne heard it, she didn’t acknowledge. “Look, Toto, we’re not on CatIsland anymore. This is the Deep South, and folks around here may not take too kindly to having lesbians among them.”

  “I promise not to try and hold your hand.” Adrienne grinned and raised her right hand like she was swearing an oath.

  I suspected that if any lesbians had ever ventured into this place, they were skewered and put on the pit.

  “How many?” a gruff-looking hostess asked as we walked in.

  “Two please,” Adrienne said politely, then shot me a look when the woman grunted and led us to our table.

  “The special is the chopped beef sandwich, comes with fries. Your waitress will be along soon.”

  Adrienne shivered. “I hope she doesn’t cook the food, too.”

  I began thinking of the “special” barbecue served at the Whistle Stop Café in one of my favorite movies Fried Green Tomatoes. It made me squeamish, so I opted for the chicken. Adrienne ordered the same.

  “So tell me, what would you like to see while in my hometown?” I asked, scuffing Adrienne’s shoe with my own.

  “I want to go to the French Market and Bourbon Street for sure and some of your old haunts.”

  I thought about my old haunts, and worry began to creep up the back of my neck. One of my hangouts was a bar called Kelly’s, and my ex was pretty fond of spending time there. Undoubtedly, she’d have her new girlfriend with her, and that made me cringe. I’d left Carla a going-away present, and I was certain she still wanted to kill me.

  “You put cat shit in someone’s car?” Adrienne blurted out, causing heads to turn.

  “If you’re gonna read my mind, then at least be discreet about it, honey,” I said with a fake smile on my face as everyone turned back to their meals.

  “Sorry,” Adrienne said with a wicked grin. “What kind of car was it?”

  “A Lexus, and she was very proud of it, too. I figured she deserved the very best after she cheated on me and took half of my things when she moved out.” I leaned closer to Adrienne and relayed the sordid details. “The neighbor’s cat had an irritable bowel issue. Honestly, that was the crappingest cat I’d ever seen.”

  Adrienne made a face but couldn’t help but laugh at my gross tale being shared right before our food was to arrive.

  “Mr. Gray kept a very rigid schedule. He would come through the cat door each morning at eight.”

  Adrienne chuckled. “Did he wear a watch?”

  “No, wise ass, that’s when Nelda, his owner, left for work, and I imagine she fed him right before. Anyway. Mr. Gray would dig a hole, make a deposit, and move to the next spot. I followed with a garden trowel and the baggie.”

  “You are so gross.”

  “Carla thought so too when she got into her car on that hot summer’s day. I’ll bet she still has essence of kitty lingering in that car.”

  Our meal arrived, and it didn’t look half bad. We ate for a few minutes, then I asked, “Have you ever pulled a stunt like that?”

  “Nothing that gross, although I admit that’s a pretty good idea.” She looked at me with a mischievous grin. “I have pulled a few pranks, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “When I was in college, I worked at a growing office supply company. My job was to take orders from customers and put them into process for the shippers. I worked with three other people and we all sat close together in cubicles. There was this one guy named Terry, who had some kind of military-man doll that sat on his desk. Anytime one of us said something he didn’t want to hear, he pulled the string in that damn doll and drowned us out.”

  Adrienne took a sip of her tea and grinned. “One morning, Terry arrived to find a Polaroid picture where his army man used to sit. He’d been stripped of his uniform and was sporting a lovely pink dress. There was a note that read, If you ever want him back, promise in writing that you’ll never pull his string again.”

  I laughed picturing what she described.

  “Terry was pissed,” Adrienne continued. “He didn’t know which one of us took his dolly, but he announced that his ‘action figure’ was a limited edition collector’s item and he wanted it back.”

  “Did he ever get it back?”

  “Yes,” Adrienne said with a triumphant smile. “But not until after he put a box of unopened fudge pops in the freezer at work and posted a note on the bulletin board swearing that he wouldn’t pull the string.”

  With full bellies, we got back on the road and the traffic pileup was gone. I took the wheel again, needing something to occupy me. The closer we got to New Orleans, the edgier I became. I started griping at other drivers and shot a few of them the finger.

  Adrienne grabbed my hand on one of those occasions. “Honey, you can’t flip people off all the time, someone might shoot us.”

  “That’s California, we’re in Louisiana. They just run you off the road here.”

  “Just keep your fingers on the wheel, please.”

  Adrienne stayed glued to the window, taking in the scenery and commenting every so often. I drove in silence with the muscles in my stomach becoming tighter with each mile that brought me closer to the Tate home. When I exited the interstate, I pulled over in a parking lot and got out to smoke a cigarette. Adrienne didn’t object.

  “We could go ahead and get a room at a hotel if it’ll make you feel better.” Adrienne stood beside me and rubbed at the knotted muscles in my neck.

  “Mom wouldn’t hear of it,” I said with a wry grin. “She wants us all under the same roof.”

  “I can’t make you stop worrying, but I hope you’ll relax on my account. I’ll be fine, and you will, too.”

  Her words comforted me…a little. It’s only for a week, I chanted in my mind as I drove the remaining eight blocks. Both of us grew quiet as we drove down my street. I knew that Adrienne was tuned in to my every thought and was privy to all the memories that flashed through my mind. I didn’t have to tell her that the old oak we were passing was the first tree I’d ever climbed.

  Each old house we passed had a memory tied to it. There was the Theriot house where I fell off the porch and knocked out a tooth. Despite the injury, I spent many a day on that porch playing Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots with Kevin, my childhood buddy. The Crawfords’ old house brought a smile to my face. I made out with Gina Crawford behind the azalea bushes in their yard. But the one that h
eld the most memories was the Tate house, and it looked much the same as it did when I left.

  The large wood frame house was painted a deep taupe with hunter green trim. The old porch swing moved slightly with the breeze. Mom’s plants were grouped together and covered with plastic to protect them from the frost. A soft light glowed from my old bedroom window, welcoming me home and making me feel warm despite the cloudy day.

  But when we pulled into the driveway, I found it hard to get out of the car. My mother bounding down the steps of my childhood home stirred me into action. She was pulling me into a tight hug as I climbed from the car.

  “Oh, my dear God, Hayden, you look radiant!” she exclaimed as she stepped back and looked me over.

  I studied her as she fawned over my hair and skin. She looked older, tired. More fine lines were showing around her eyes. Her light brown hair had a little more gray. She’d lost weight, too, making her face appear not quite gaunt, but thin nevertheless. But one thing remained the same; her makeup was done to perfection. I had no doubt that her lipstick left an impression on my cheek.

  “Hayden, I can’t get over the highlights in your hair, it looks like you’ve been to the salon,” she said with a proud smile. “Your skin is absolutely glowing. I think all that time in the sun has been good for you…but you do wear sunscreen, right?”

  “I wear sunscreen and I eat well, Mom,” I said as I waved Adrienne over.

  Mom turned and smiled at Adrienne as she approached.

  “This is Adrienne. And Adrienne this is my mom, Margaret Tate.”

  “Mrs. Tate.” Adrienne held out her hand, which Mom took and squeezed. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  It surprised me that Mom didn’t immediately let go of Adrienne’s hand. Instead, she clasped it between her own. “Hayden has told me so much about you.”

  When she did release Adrienne’s hand, Mom took another step back so she could look at both of us. “It’s cold out here,” she said with a shiver. “Let’s get your things and we can settle down with a cup of coffee. I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

  Adrienne and I took our bags from the car. Mom was determined to help and grabbed my backpack despite my protests. She led us into the house explaining that Dad and my brother Jeff were out on the golf course, even though it was cold and overcast. Wanda, my sister-in-law, was doing some last-minute shopping.

  We followed her up the stairs to my old bedroom, which was nearly the same as I’d left it when I moved away. It was good to be home, to be surrounded by familiar things, but a part of me felt like a visitor just passing through. I didn’t feel like I truly belonged.

  “I’ve put extra towels in your bathroom and another blanket on your bed.” Mom stood silent for an awkward moment looking over the room. I couldn’t tap into her thoughts like Adrienne could, but I knew she was uncomfortable with the prospect of me sharing a bed with Adrienne. She turned on a heel and quickly left the room, calling over her shoulder, “Why don’t you two get settled in, and I’ll start the coffee?”

  Adrienne squeezed my arm softly until I looked at her. “She’s trying, love, give her a little time.”

  I shoved the door closed with my foot and pulled Adrienne into my arms. “Thank you for being so understanding,” I whispered into her neck.

  “Your mom I can understand, but the comforter on your bed has me a little confused.”

  I turned and admired it with a grin. I’d bought it in high school much to Mom’s chagrin. It was white and covered in what looked like muddy doggie paw prints. I figured that Mom would have stripped it from the bed the second I left home, but she didn’t.

  “I spent my whole paycheck earned at my summer job before my senior year in high school.” I flopped down on the bed and hugged a furry decorative pillow. “It was cute. I had to have it.”

  “Saber wouldn’t approve,” Adrienne mused as she looked around at my youthful decorating style. If it was gaudy, I had it. Evidence of my rebellion against my mother’s classic tastes. Though if she were able to see the furnishings in our cottage on the island, she’d be pleasantly surprised.

  We unpacked our things and went to the kitchen where Mom was pouring the coffee. She’d been baking, and a plate of chocolate chips cookies lay temptingly in the middle of the table. Gumbo cooking on the stove caught my attention, and I went to the pot to give it a stir.

  “Chicken and sausage,” Mom said over her shoulder. “It’ll be ready for dinner.”

  “Mmm, my favorite,” I said with a purr while replacing the lid.

  “Adrienne, please sit down,” Mom said, gesturing toward the table. “Have you eaten anything? I can whip up some turkey salad sandwiches.”

  “I’m afraid that Hayden and I filled up on fast food before we got here,” Adrienne said with an apologetic smile as Mom set a cup of coffee down in front of her.

  “We hit the Taco Bell on the corner,” I said with a pat on my full stomach. “I couldn’t resist, we don’t have fast food on the island.”

  “No fast food?” Mom asked as she took a seat.

  “The island is not a big draw for tourists, Mom, so there aren’t a lot of businesses chomping at the bit to build there.”

  Mom reached over and toyed with a strand of my hair as I took my seat. “You look healthier than I’ve ever seen you look. Maybe not having fast food is a good thing.”

  “Iris makes sure we get all the fruits and vegetables we can stand,” Adrienne said.

  “Iris is the cook, right?” Mom asked, looking at me.

  “She is. Iris is really like a mother hen, always on us about what and how we eat.”

  “Well, I’m grateful you have someone to look out for you…for you both.” Mom smiled at Adrienne. “What is daily life like at the inn?”

  My mind wandered as Adrienne told Mom about the inn and the island. It felt strange to be back home. When I lived in New Orleans, I rarely visited and never stayed overnight. There was too much tension between my dad and me.

  “Hayden?” my mother said, drawing my attention back to the conversation. “Do you remember a Ms. Spivic?”

  The name rang a bell somewhere in my memory, but I couldn’t place it. “Sounds familiar.”

  “She was a friend of your Aunt Gloria’s.” Mom waited for the gears in my head to stop spinning.

  “Oh, yeah, she had that camp down on BellRiver. I remember Aunt Gloria taking me there one weekend. I must have been around ten years old.”

  Mom nodded. “She called the other day, says she wants to see you while you’re in town.”

  Mom and I exchanged bewildered glances. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in over twenty years.

  “Maybe she just wants to catch up,” I said with a shrug. “Did she leave a number?”

  “No, she said she’d call back in a few days.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. I stiffened at the male voices as they moved closer to the kitchen. It was Dad and Jeff. I stood as they walked into the room. Jeff came over and gave me a hug.

  “Good to see ya, sis.”

  My mother introduced Jeff to Adrienne as my dad came over and gave me a peck on the cheek.

  “How’s business?” His trademark greeting.

  “Business is good, Dad. I’d like to introduce you to Adrienne.”

  He held out his hand and Adrienne took it. “Blake Tate,” he said with a smile.

  Adrienne smiled, as well, and I relaxed slightly.

  “Wanda’s not back yet?” Jeff asked as he shrugged out of his jacket.

  “Not yet, but she’ll be here in time for dinner,” Mom said as she took my father’s coat, along with Jeff’s, and hung them on the hall tree.

  “Look at you,” Jeff said with a grin. “All tanned, must be living the life of Riley on that island.”

  “I occasionally find something to get me out of the hammock,” I shot back. I knew that everyone assumed I did nothing but lie around in the sun. It was
n’t considered a real job by Dad and Jeff. A real job in their opinion involved mounds of paperwork and a desk.

  “Hayden has actually learned to be quite the carpenter,” Adrienne said. “In addition to handling our clientele, she still manages to get her hands dirty from time to time.”

  “I guess building all those tree houses when we were kids finally paid off. Let’s hope you’ve gotten better with a hammer,” Jeff quipped.

  I debated on jabbing Jeff with a volley of words but decided against it. It was expected, and I wasn’t going to take the bait so soon in the game. It was funny to me how Jeff and I had grown to be. When we were little, he was my hero. Sticking up for the kid sister who always wanted to hang out with the boys. But as we grew into adulthood, things changed. A competition of sorts grew between us. Instead of simply talking, we exchanged jabs that were sometimes painful and quickly escalated into an argument.

  The phone rang and changed the conversation. Mom passed it to Jeff. “It’s Wanda.”

  Dad mumbled something about a shower and disappeared. Mom shifted into gear and began getting dinner together, waving off all offers to help. Adrienne and I took our coffee and retreated to the back porch.

  “With the exception of Wanda, you’ve met my family…and survived,” I said as I took a seat on the porch swing and promptly lit a cigarette.

  “I did, didn’t I?” Adrienne said as she joined me.

  We sat quietly for a moment, and I gave her a gentle nudge. “So spill it.”

  “Your mom is uncomfortable with our relationship, but she’s trying really hard,” Adrienne began. “She’s missed you.”

  “And Dad?”

  Adrienne frowned. “Disapproval.”

  “Disapproval of whom?”

  “Of me, of us,” Adrienne said.

  I bristled. I’d long since gotten used to his disapproval of me. It was something all together different with Adrienne. I didn’t think he had any right to disapprove of someone he didn’t know.

  “It’s okay, love,” she said with a pat on my arm. “We both came here knowing he wasn’t going to be happy. “He really doesn’t know you, either, and it’s his loss. You’re something special.”