Saturdays at Sweeney's

by Farley, Ashley

  “Hmm, let’s see.” Jamie stared up at the ceiling while he thought about it. “I like blueberries.”

  “I’m being serious,” she said, jabbing him in the side with her elbow. “What’s the one thing that has most influenced your life to date?”

  Jamie hesitated. That one thing was difficult for him to talk about, but he viewed Lizbet’s personal question as a sign that she wanted to get to know him better. He willed his voice not to crack. “On New Year’s Day of my senior year in high school, I was in an ATV accident with my best friend. Cory was killed on impact, and I suffered a spinal cord injury that left me paralyzed from the waist down. I wasn’t sure I’d ever walk again. I was in a wheelchair for six months, the worst six months of my life. I was mourning my best friend and coping with the challenges of my disability. And I lost my baseball scholarship, which at the time was the single most important thing in my life. I wouldn’t have made it without my friends and family. Mostly my mom. She never gave up on me.”

  He finished talking, and silence hung in the air between them. When Lizbet sniffled, he asked, “Are you crying?”

  “So what’s new? I cry all the time. I thought you already knew that about me.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. And I’m sorry about your friend. The death of a loved one changes us in unimaginable ways. Losing my mother is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know if I could survive losing my best friend.”

  Jamie lowered his head. “It sucks. Even now. Cory and I had been best friends since kindergarten.” Tears blurred his vision as he stared into his lap. “Learning to live with the guilt is the hardest part. I feel obligated to live every day to the fullest to make up for the time Cory lost. I owe him that much.” He sucked in a deep breath to steady his voice. “I can’t imagine losing my mom, though. How do you cope with that?”

  “It gets a little bit easier every day, as I’m sure it did for you after Cory died. I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past nine months. Mom and I were never that close. Brooke and Mom had more in common, and I always felt like the third wheel around them. But that all changed when she got sick. Mom was a character. She was opinionated, headstrong, and set in her ways. She was staunch in her traditional beliefs, and not very accepting of people different from her. You can imagine how she reacted when Brooke came out of the closet. She eventually accepted Sawyer, but not before she put us all through hell. Mom never had high aspirations for herself. She was happy being a homemaker. I never understood that until I was facing life without her. Then I realized all the little things she did to make our family and our home special.” Her voice broke and she couldn’t continue.

  “Moms are special people,” Jamie said, thinking about his own. “I’ve changed my mind about that beer. Do you want one?” He moved to get up, but she jumped to her feet. “I’ll get them. I need to blow my nose anyway.”

  She went inside and returned five minutes later with a red nose, a handful of tissues, and two opened bottles of COAST HopArt IPA. “I’m sorry for falling apart on you,” she said, handing him one of the beers.

  “No worries. You can cry on my shoulder anytime,” he said, patting his shoulder.

  She lowered herself to the swing. “You probably won’t believe this after my breakdown just now, but I feel like I’ve reached a new stage in my grief. After nine months of misery, these tears feel more like bittersweet reminiscence than sadness.”

  “I remember how much of a relief it is to finally reach that point.” He took a swig of beer and licked his lips. “And it’s okay. Your Mom would want you to be happy.”

  “I know that. She even told me that herself.” Lizbet picked at the label on her bottle. “I guess it takes a while for your heart to believe it.”

  “To mending broken hearts.” He held his bottle out to hers and they clinked them together.

  “Mom taught me a lot, mostly that it’s okay for me to just be me.” Lizbet swiped at her eyes with the tissue. “I’m more like her than I ever realized. She was happiest when she was puttering around at home. She had her family and her two best friends living next door to her. She despised shopping, and she didn’t like to go on trips. I don’t have any great yearning to see the world either. Traveling was always Brooke’s thing. Although we now know the seven years she lived in California was more about hiding her lifestyle than exploring the world.”

  “I think I would’ve liked your mom.” Jamie shifted on the bench toward Lizbet. “I always thought I’d move back to Prospect after I graduate, but ever since the fire, I’ve been wondering if this is my opportunity to do something different. I like Charleston. There are so many kids our age here, and the food is incredible. I love being able to walk everywhere I need to go. On the one hand, I can see myself here. But on the other, I’m not sure I can give up living on the water. There’s a lot to be said for being able to walk out on my dock and go fishing and hunting anytime I want.”

  “Prospect is a charming little town. I see why you like it so much.” Lizbet looked away. “I’m beginning to think that going to New York for culinary school is the wrong decision for me. There are plenty of culinary schools in the South. There’s even one right here in Charleston.”

  “But none are as renowned as the one in New York. Don’t shy away from the challenge because you’re intimidated by living in a big city. You’ll be so preoccupied with your studies, the time will go by quickly. Think of all the like-minded people you’ll meet and the amazing restaurants you’ll get to try.”

  Lizbet nodded. “That’s what Annie says.”

  “Are you planning to come back to work for Heidi when you finish?”

  “That depends on whether she still needs me. I can’t ask her to hold my job for me.”

  He nudged her with his shoulder. “Sure you can. You know Heidi better than that. She’ll make a place for you if you want to come back.”

  “You’re right. But the truth is, I’m not sure my future is in catering. Like Annie, I want to open my own restaurant one day.”

  “The two of you should consider going into business together. You get along so well, and you’re both so talented.”

  They sat in comfortable silence while they finished their beers. Jamie allowed himself to daydream about being married to Lizbet. She seemed perfect for him. They would have such a nice life together in Prospect with a house on the inlet, two kids, and a yellow Labrador retriever. They would rebuild the seafood market and open at least one restaurant on the waterfront. He felt the warmth of her body beside him. A voice inside his head whispered, Go for it!

  He set his beer bottle down on the porch floor. “You’re an interesting girl, Lizbet Horne. Your Dr. Dreamy is a lucky guy.”

  Lizbet tensed beside him. “Who is Dr. Dreamy?”

  “He’s not your boyfriend? Brooke mentioned him the first night I met her. She made it sound like y’all were dating.”

  Lizbet giggled, and her body relaxed. “You can’t listen to my sister. You know how much she likes to stir up trouble. Trevor Pratt is just a friend. He was kind to me when Mom was sick. We went out on a couple of dates, but we didn’t have any chemistry. I haven’t seen him in months.”

  “I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that.” Jamie wanted to jump off the swing, take her in his arms, and dance her around the porch. He invited her to the Memorial Day party at Moss Creek Farm instead. “It’s mostly family plus a few friends. Annie’s coming. We invited Heidi too, but she’s not sure if she can come yet.”

  Jamie realized he was being forward, but he didn’t care. He’d been suppressing his interest in her since they first met. Now that Dr. Dreamy wasn’t in the picture, he planned to stake his claim.

  “How are Annie and Heidi going to a party when we’re catering an event at noon?”

  “Our party doesn’t start until five,” Jamie said. “The event is at Folly Beach. You could drive to Prospect with me afterward if you want.”


  “In that case . . .” She grinned as though she was going to accept his offer, but then her face fell. “Wait, Jamie, I can’t. I’m sorry. I forgot that Sawyer has to work. I told Brooke I’d spend the evening with her.”

  “Brooke can come too! My family will love her, especially my mom.”

  “All moms love Brooke. I hope your mom likes me as well.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, and the uncertainty in her gray eyes told him everything he needed to hear. She cared about him. She wanted his mother to like her. He’d cast out his line, and she’d taken the bait.

  He rested his arm on the back of the swing behind her head. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  TWENTY

  Faith

  The incessant ringing of her phone was driving Faith out of her mind. She was sick with worry over locking her mother away in a memory care unit and freaking out about keeping her family safe from Curtis. If something didn’t give soon, she’d commit herself to a different kind of mental unit. The kind for people who were batshit crazy.

  The phone calls had started a short time after she’d discovered the rotten fish on her stoop on Monday morning. The first calls went to her cell phone—one hang-up after another. She’d block the number, and thirty minutes later the calls would begin again from another number with an unknown caller ID. She finally turned her cell phone off altogether, only to have her landline start ringing within the hour. Mike was working days at the hospital. Thankfully, the calls tapered off in the late afternoon, around the time he arrived home, sparing her from having to explain the situation.

  Faith’s imagination played tricks on her. She felt as if someone was watching her—peeking through her windows and around the aisles at the grocery store—but every time she turned to look, no one was there. She sensed people looking at her in a strange way—the checkout lady at the library and the traffic guard in the carpool line at Bitsy’s school—as though they knew she was keeping a deep, dark secret.

  Sam called several times a day to rant about Donna Bennett. “I know Donna is guilty! I don’t understand why the police can’t find any evidence against her.”

  Faith listened patiently without arguing. Sam would never consider other suspects, namely Curtis, as long as she thought Donna had started the fire.

  There was a bright side to her week, a shimmer of sunshine on an otherwise bleak landscape. The anxiety meds the doctor had prescribed for her mother made Lovie more agreeable and less agitated. She seemed happy, giddy even, like a teenager in love. She flirted shamelessly with every man she came into contact with. She was particularly fond of Mike, although she couldn’t quite grasp that he was Faith’s husband. She was convinced that Faith was still married to Curtis. She asked about him constantly and spotted him everywhere—in the car next to them at the stoplight and behind the window at the dry cleaner’s drive-through. It was never her ex-husband, of course, but Faith jumped out of her skin every time her mother exclaimed, “Look, there’s Curtis!” As though her ex-husband were someone they’d want to see. As if Faith weren’t already skittish enough.

  Faith had called the parole officer multiple times. Emmett Reyes insisted that Curtis had not left the Columbia city limits. “It’s just not possible, ma’am. We have a network in place that holds him accountable for every minute of his day.”

  Faith couldn’t care less about his network. Emmett didn’t know her ex-husband, the little weasel, the way she did. The torture was gnawing at her insides. She couldn’t take it anymore. She would tell Eli about Curtis as soon as her mother was tucked safely away at Creekside Manor. She should’ve confided in him weeks before.

  During the past few days, a series of phone conversations among the three Sweeney sisters and the professionals at Creekside Manor had focused on the best way to transition Lovie to her new environment. Faith was the obvious choice to make the drop-off, as she’d been Lovie’s primary care provider since the fire. Jackie and Sam hated being left out of this monumental event in their mother’s life, but they agreed that their presence might cause Lovie unnecessary confusion and alarm.

  Sam had spent the day before packing up their mother’s most valued possessions and the remainder of her clothes from her town house. Jackie had met Sam at the manor late in the afternoon, and together they had organized Lovie’s new room.

  “Her room is actually pretty nice,” Sam had reported when she’d called on her way home. “Jackie added her decorator’s touch and arranged Mom’s things so the room feels homey without being cramped.”

  Faith had kept her mother preoccupied with cooking shows on the Food Network that morning while she packed her toiletries and clothes. But when Lovie saw Faith rolling her tattered suitcase out to the car, she started to cry and tried to grab the handle of the suitcase away from Faith. The professionals had given her advice on how to handle such an incident.

  “Mike and I are going out of town for a few days, Mom. You will be staying at a hotel with friends who have a lot in common with you. Look at it as an adventure.”

  This prompted a litany of questions about why she couldn’t go with them and when they would be back and why Faith was going on vacation with a man named Mike when Curtis was her husband.

  Faith glanced at her watch. She and her mother were expected at Creekside Manor in twenty minutes. “We need to go, Mom. We’re going to be late.” She took her mother by the elbow and practically dragged her to the car.

  The questions started again as soon as she started down the driveway. “Who is Mike? I don’t understand why you’re going to California with a man who’s not your husband.”

  Faith swung her head around to look at her mother. California? Who said anything about going to California?

  “I’m married to Mike now, Mama. I’ve told you that a dozen times.” Arguing with her mother was pointless. Lovie would ask the same question three minutes later anyway. But Faith drew the line at pretending she was still married to Curtis.

  She turned up the volume on her country music station and tuned her mother out on the way to Creekside Manor.

  Beds of pink and white impatiens greeted them at the front gates of the retirement home, and Lovie grew silent as they drove through the canopy of live oak trees lining the driveway. They passed a small pond on the right where several patients sat on park benches, reading or visiting with their loved ones.

  “What is this place again?” Lovie asked.

  “A hotel for people your age.”

  “Will I know anyone here?”

  Faith glanced over at her mother. The fear on her face tugged at Faith’s heartstrings. “I’m sure you will, Mama. You already know so many people in town. Besides, you make friends so easily. They’ll have lots of fun activities for you to do.”

  Faith parked near the door and helped her mother out of the car. The staff had instructed her to leave her mother’s suitcase in the trunk until they got her settled. They entered the building and took the elevator to the second floor. A member of the staff whom Faith had not met but who called Lovie by name greeted them in the reception area. In her late thirties, the woman wore black slacks and a black polo shirt with the Creekside Manor logo on her left breast. Her chocolate eyes were warm and her smile kind.

  “My name is Joy Peterson and I’m going to show you to your room and help you get settled. We’re so happy to have you stay with us, Mrs. Sweeney. I think you’re really going to like it here.”

  When Joy offered Lovie her arm, her mother cast an uncertain glance at Faith. “It’s okay, Mama. I’m coming with you.”

  Faith followed them down the hall. They paused momentarily in the doorway of the main recreational lounge. The room was divided into separate areas of comfortable seating with potted plants, bookcases, and a large picture window overlooking the landscaped grounds. A group of women were gathered around a table playing cards while another patient sat reading a picture book with a caregiver on one of the sofas.

  “These people are old!” Lovie said in a loud voice
. “You said there would be people my age here.”

  “We have all ages here, Mrs. Sweeney,” Joy said and kept on walking.

  Faith was pleasantly surprised when they entered her mother’s room. Jackie had hung her mother’s favorite paintings—above the bed a watercolor of a cheerful flower arrangement, and on the opposite wall an oil of the sun rising over the inlet. A yellow-and-white patchwork quilt, taken from Lovie’s guest room at the town house, topped the bed, and her favorite butter-colored cashmere throw was draped across the gooseneck rocker she’d had since the girls were babies.

  Lovie saw her things and started to back out of the room. “I’m not staying here and you can’t make me. Why’d you bring me here, Faith?” She tugged on Faith’s shirtsleeve. “You told me we were going to Disney World.”

  Disney World? Faith forced herself to keep a straight face, but inside she was crumbling. She looked to Joy for help.

  “This place is like Disney World in many ways.” Joy took Lovie’s hands in hers. “We have lots of games you can play and our very own ice cream dispenser for special treats.”

  “I don’t like ice cream.” Lovie’s lip quivered, and she set her pleading eyes on Faith. “Please don’t make me stay here.”

  Joy gave Faith the nod. The administrator had warned her it could be like this. “When the time comes for you to leave,” she’d said, “you may have to make a quick exit. You have to trust that we will take care of her.”

  Lovie let out a screech when Faith turned to go that made her blood curdle and stopped her in her tracks in the doorway. Two orderlies appeared from nowhere and brushed her out of the way as they entered the room.

  When she spun around to face her mother, Lovie whimpered, “Please don’t go. Please, Faith. I promise I’ll be good from now on.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” Faith said to Joy as she rushed to her mother’s side. She knew that this decision was just as imprudent as others she’d made in recent weeks, but the look of terror and utter dejection in her mother’s face overpowered any resolve Faith had had to leave her there. “Let go of her,” she demanded of the orderlies, who held Lovie in their grip.