Saturdays at Sweeney's

by Farley, Ashley

  “I can tell myself that all day long, but I’m never gonna believe it.” Faith pointed her key fob at her SUV and pressed the unlock button. “Make the arrangements and let me know the date. In the meantime I’ll talk to the doctor about putting Mom on some antianxiety meds, like Irene suggested.”

  She got in her car and drove toward home. Taking care of her mother had given her a sense of purpose. How would she fill her days with no job and her mother in a nursing home? Bitsy would be out of school for the summer soon. She could spend some quality time with her. They could take day trips to the beach and have her friends over for sleepovers. They could take sailing lessons, as Faith had always dreamed of doing with her daughter. They could even look into purchasing a Sunfish sailboat. Summer activities would keep her busy for the next three months, but what about all the months and years after that?

  #

  Friday proved to be her mother’s worst day yet. Lovie had been up at odd hours and roaming around the house on Thursday night, which made her tired and cranky on Friday. Nothing Faith tried seemed to settle her down. She wasn’t interested in watching a movie or sitting on the dock. Thinking they could both use some fresh air and exercise, Faith drove her mother out to Moss Creek Farm for a leisurely walk around the property and through Jackie’s gardens. But when they got there, Lovie refused to get out of the car.

  “I want to go home!” she demanded, pulling the car door shut every time Faith opened it.

  Faith finally acquiesced. “Fine, but I have to stop by the store to pick up a few items for dinner, and you’re going with me.”

  The store was packed with shoppers, mostly young mothers with their children, loading up for the weekend. Lovie got so disoriented, with the kids screaming and the women frantically grabbing items off the shelves, that Faith was forced to abandon her cart in the middle of the aisle and take her mother home.

  “You need a break,” Mike said that evening when he came home from work and found Faith in a foul mood. “Why don’t you take Bitsy to the farmer’s market in the morning, and I’ll stay here with Lovie.”

  Faith started to object but changed her mind when she saw her daughter’s face light up at the prospect of spending the morning alone with her. She winked at Bitsy and smiled at her husband. “A little time with my girl is exactly what I need. Thank you, Mike.”

  The Sweeney’s parking lot was so full they had to park across the street at the marina. Bitsy was almost as excited to see Farmer Fred as she was to see her cousins. She knew him well from the market. Her primary job had been to stock the produce cart with the items Fred provided. She rushed to his side and hugged him around the waist. He plucked a pink zinnia from one of his bouquets and tucked it behind her ear.

  Faith waved to Sean and Jamie before taking a seat next to Sam at the bakery table. “Looks like business is booming.”

  “And everybody in town wants a piece of the action.” Sam placed her hand on the legal pad in front of her. “We have a list of people who want to join in the fun next Saturday. We are now officially a farmer’s market. Saturdays at Sweeney’s. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Saturdays at Sweeney’s,” Faith repeated. “I like it.” She picked up the legal pad and read the list out loud. “Virginia’s Herb Garden. Bonnie’s Berry Farm. The Barbecue Hut. Al’s Free-Range Eggs and Grass-Fed Chickens.” She set the pad back down. “Wow. Will you have enough room for all these vendors? The lot is overflowing as it is.”

  “The customers will park across the street from now on, which will leave the Sweeney’s lot for vendor setups. I’ve already cleared it with the marina.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.” Faith kept her eye on Bitsy as the little girl elbowed her way through the sea of people to Jamie’s truck. She tugged on his shirttail, and he lifted her onto the tailgate. “Do you need me to handle the finances?”

  “Once Mom is situated at Creekside Manor and you have more time, I would love you to teach me how to manage the finances. Since you’re retiring, I’ll eventually need to learn. Might as well be now.”

  “Let’s not talk about this right now, Sam.”

  Sam’s words drove home the realization that she would no longer be needed once Sam took over the books. Am I making a mistake by retiring before I’ve figured out what I want to do?

  The boys were so busy, Faith barely got a chance to speak to them except to say hello on her way out. She noticed Sean was not his usual peppy self. He seemed down, as though he’d gotten in a fight with his girlfriend. Did he even have a girlfriend? Faith didn’t know. When was the last time they’d had a family get-together? She couldn’t remember. She would talk to her sisters and plan something for Memorial Day. After locking their mother away at Creekside Manor on Thursday, they would need something to look forward to, something to get them through the long holiday weekend.

  “Sean was mean to me,” Bitsy said on the way home in the car.

  “I doubt he was mean to you, sweetheart. He probably just has a lot on his mind.”

  “You mean girls,” she said with a giggle.

  Faith smiled. Her daughter was growing up too fast.

  #

  The rest of Saturday and Sunday went surprisingly smoothly for Lovie. Her new medicine regimen kept her calmer during the day and helped alleviate the symptoms of sundown syndrome, which enabled her to sleep better at night. Faith woke on Monday morning feeling rested and ready to face the week ahead. She’d managed a few mornings at the shooting range during the past couple of weeks, enough time to finish the required course and apply for her license to carry. There’d been no sign of Curtis since the fire, but the proximity of her gun, tucked away in her closet, comforted her just the same.

  Faith turned off the burglar alarm and tiptoed past her mother’s room on her way to get the newspaper. Mike had yet to come home from his night shift at the hospital, and she relished the thought of a few minutes alone, reading the paper and drinking her coffee, before her mother woke up. She opened the front door and gasped when an overpowering stench assaulted her nose. Lying on the stoop beside the Charleston Post and Courier was a decaying fish, a yellowfin tuna covered in maggots with flies swarming about. Tacked to the fish with a rusty nail was her mother’s recipe card for tuna salad.

  Faith’s hand flew to her mouth and nose as she stifled a sob. Curtis! Lovie’s tuna salad was his favorite of all her recipes.

  She glanced down the hall to make sure Bitsy’s and Lovie’s bedroom doors were still closed. She pulled the front door shut behind her and ran to the garage for a shovel. Stuffing the recipe card in her bathrobe pocket, she scooped up the fish, carried it down to the dock, and dumped it into the water. She rinsed off the shovel and returned it to the garage. When she went back inside the house, she heard her cell phone ringing in her bedroom.

  Sam was talking so fast and loud Faith couldn’t understand her. “Calm down, Samantha. I have no idea what you’re saying.”

  Sam slowed her speech without lowering the volume. “Donna Bennett left a rotten fish at my front door this morning with Mom’s recipe for fish stew attached to it with a nail.”

  Faith’s heart raced as she lowered herself to the bed. Since learning of Curtis’s release from prison, she’d waged an internal battle with herself as to whether she should tell her family that he was on the loose. With each day that passed with no word from him, she felt better about her decision to keep his release to herself. If Sam suspected Curtis could’ve been responsible for the fire, she would go after him like a Labrador retriever chasing a squirrel. And she would get herself hurt. Or worse.

  “What kind of fish was it?”

  “It was too decomposed to know for sure. I think it might have been a barracuda. What difference does that make anyway?”

  It made a lot of difference to Faith. A ferocious predator like a barracuda was exactly the kind of fish Curtis would leave for Sam. His message was clear. He was coming for her. Her sister needed to be aware
so she could be alert. But Curtis had driven Sam to drink once. What if that happened again? What if she told Sam about Curtis and it turned out Donna Bennett had left the fish? Sam would start drinking again for no reason. Maybe Donna had done it. She hated Sam enough. Then again, Donna had nothing against Faith, no reason to leave a rotten fish at her front door. It had to be Curtis.

  “What does Eli think?” Faith asked.

  “He took the recipe card down to the station as evidence,” Sam said, her voice considerably calmer. “He says this proves Mom is innocent. Whoever started the fire stole her recipes. And she’s too out of her mind to orchestrate this rotten fish thing, even if she wanted to, which she wouldn’t because I’m her daughter. Besides, you can verify her whereabouts last night. Did she at any point leave your house?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “See! It has to be Donna. No one else hates me enough to do something like this. Except your ex-husband, and he’s in prison.”

  Now’s your opportunity to tell her, Faith thought. But she let the moment pass. She needed time to think.

  SEVENTEEN

  Jackie

  Unbeknownst to Jackie, her son had canceled his second appointment with Moses, and when he refused to go to this week’s session, his third, Jackie went in his place. She called Moses ahead of time to make certain he would see her.

  “I’d be happy to meet with you Jackie,” Moses said on the phone. “When I counsel a patient, I’m counseling the family.”

  She took a nerve pill beforehand in preparation. She’d never been for counseling before. She’d never been inside Moses’s inner sanctum either, but she’d heard much about it from the members of her family who had been in his care. As soon as she entered, she zeroed in on one wall showcasing his accomplishments as a star linebacker at the University of Georgia. Large framed black-and-white photographs featuring him in action were accompanied by an impressive assortment of brass plaques and silver bowls engraved with his achievements.

  Moses stood behind her, peering over her shoulder, as she skimmed the framed article announcing him as a candidate for the Heisman Trophy. “I admit my trophy wall makes me look like a narcissist, but my younger patients, especially the fellas, really get into this stuff. My shrine, as they call it, serves as an icebreaker with my shy patients.”

  “I can see how it would. I had no idea you were a Heisman Trophy candidate, Moses. That is something to be proud of. You’re a shining example to all your patients, young and old.” She turned around to face the room. A heavy black-lacquered desk occupied the space to her left, and a pair of contemporary red-leather sofas flanked a custom-made wool rug bearing the Georgia Bulldogs logo. An oversize Lucite coffee table separated the sofas with an array of magazines dedicated to a variety of sports—football, fishing, boating, golf, cycling. In the center of the coffee table sat a large faceted crystal football trophy declaring Moses the most valuable player of the Sugar Bowl in 2003. A theater-size flat-screen TV took up most of the opposite wall. She imagined him here on a chilly autumn Saturday afternoon watching college football while catching up on paperwork.

  “I’d like for Sean to see all this,” Jackie said, her arms akimbo as she turned in a circle, taking it all in one last time. “If only I can convince him to show up for an appointment.”

  “Sean will come when he’s ready, Jackie.” Moses motioned her toward the leather sofas. “Let’s sit down. I want to hear how he’s doing.”

  They made themselves comfortable facing each other on opposite sofas. “I’ll be honest with you, Moses, I’m at my wits’ end. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to reach him. He’s withdrawn and surly, not at all the same kid I sent away to college nine months ago. I want my happy-go-lucky boy back. With the old Sean, I always knew where I stood. I have no idea what’s going on inside this Sean’s mind.”

  “What tactics are you using to get through to him?”

  “None that are working, obviously.” Jackie picked a piece of lint off her black skinny jeans. “We are in a pattern—I nag and he ignores. I scream at him and he goes into his room and slams the door. I realize that badgering him isn’t helping anything, but I can’t control myself. He refuses to discuss his future. He dismisses me as if I’m insignificant, and it infuriates me. I can’t get him to fill out the application for the College of Charleston. I realize they won’t accept him without your endorsement. Not after he flunked out of Georgia. And you have your reputation to consider. I understand completely why you wouldn’t go out on a limb for him.”

  “I appreciate you saying that. And you’re right, I wouldn’t feel comfortable making the recommendation until I’m convinced this is what he wants. And that he’s stopped using drugs.”

  “I don’t think he’s using drugs. I think he’s depressed. He seems so lost. When he’s not fishing or working, he’s zoned out in front of the TV. I’m not even sure he’s paying attention to whatever show he’s watching half the time. He used to play those silly video games for hours, but he hasn’t played Xbox once since he got home.”

  “Okay, let’s back up a minute. Where is he working?”

  “He’s a busboy at the Pelican’s Roost. Don’t say it!” She held her palm out in front of her. “I realize working in a restaurant isn’t the greatest choice for him. But Jamie is working there as a dishwasher. The manager promised to promote both of them to waiters when their summer business picks up.”

  Moses knitted his black eyebrows together. “I ran into Jamie at the gas station yesterday afternoon. He was on his way to Charleston to work an event for Heidi. He quit his job at the Roost last week because they weren’t giving him enough hours. He wasn’t washing dishes for them, Jackie. He was bartending.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape. Anger flushed through her body and sweat trickled down her back. What was worse than Sean’s lying to her was her believing him. “How could I be so gullible? I feel like such a fool.”

  He offered her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Every parent wants to be able to trust their child.” He steepled his fingers. “Let me ask you this. What kind of condition is he typically in when he comes home from work at night?”

  “Sober, I assume, although I can’t say for certain. He’s home most nights by eleven. I’m usually in bed reading when he comes in. I never felt like I needed to check on him. After all, he’s been at work, not out partying.”

  “I wouldn’t assume anything where your son is concerned,” Moses said. “Not in his current state.”

  “Well . . . like I said earlier, I’m convinced this state is depression. I have no reason to suspect he’s using drugs. I understand why he lied to me about the job. He knew I am against him working in a restaurant. He and Jamie also have a crab business going. They’re doing quite well.”

  “Jamie told me. Sounds like they’re making a lot of money. It’s good for Sean to help pay for his legal fees.”

  Jackie’s body grew rigid. “That’s the plan.”

  “But you haven’t collected any money from him yet?”

  She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. Bill’s handling the legal matter. I’ve been preoccupied with finding a nursing home for Mom, and I have a new project in Charleston that is requiring more attention than I anticipated.”

  “I was sorry to hear from Jamie about your mother. She’s a lovely lady. Alzheimer’s is an ugly disease. Look, Jackie,” Moses said, his giant hands splayed out on his gray dress slacks. “I have no way of knowing for sure what is going on with Sean. We had a productive talk the night I visited the farm, but there’s a reason he refuses to come see me at my office. My gut tells me his guilty conscience has something to do with it. Your son is in a precarious position for someone with a drug habit. Which is a real thing, as evidenced by his arrest. He’s working in the restaurant environment, where drugs are readily available, and he has plenty of money at his disposal to purchase them. Sean needs to be your priority right now. Yours and Bill’s both.
”

  Jackie felt the beginning of a headache at the base of her skull. “Sean is my priority! I’m here, aren’t I? What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Drug test him. Search his room. Wait up for him to come home at night,” Moses began, ticking off each suggestion with his fingers. “Get in his face. Smell his breath and check his pupils. Insist he find a more suitable job. Manage his finances. You have the upper hand here. He’s in a lot of trouble with the law. Hold him accountable.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I feel like an absolute failure. I was so proud of myself for being on top of the situation, but all I’ve been doing is yelling at him.”

  “Maybe so, but you’ve taken a step in the right direction by coming here. I hope I’m wrong about this. For a boy his age, dealing with depression can be much easier than dealing with addiction. Approach with caution. Plan some family time together. Share some laughs. Reconnect. Let him know he can talk to you, that he can trust you. You’ve been focused on the big picture, and understandably so; you’re worried about his future. But I wouldn’t push the college issue just yet.”

  “What’re your thoughts on a summer job for him?”

  “He might benefit from working with underprivileged kids. He has a lot to offer. Being around children less fortunate than he is might help him realign his priorities. The YMCA is hosting several weeks of camp. I think Sean would make a great counselor.”

  “I like that idea. Thank you so much, Big Mo.” Jackie stood to leave. “Clearly Bill and I have our work cut out for us.”

  “You’ll do great,” Big Mo said and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

  #

  When Jackie learned her son had Tuesday night off from work, she scheduled a family dinner. After her appointment with Big Mo, she was eager to try out her new strategies. Bill came home early from the office, so they could discuss how best to get through to their son.