The Secret's in the Sauce

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The Secret's in the Sauce Page 11

by Linda Evans Shepherd


  David moved the vehicles to the parking lot and came back to the waiting room. I’d rolled Mother up to the end of a line of chairs and was sitting beside her. I said to him, “Why don’t you go on home?”

  “Nothing doing. I’m in this with you.”

  The earnestness in his eyes reminded me so much of his father, Joseph Ray Jewell, my late first husband, that my vision blurred.

  He said, “It’s going to be okay.”

  I nodded.

  The young redheaded receptionist called for my mother, and David pushed her back to one of the exam rooms while I followed behind. As we were positioning her wheelchair in the only open spot in the room, Dr. Galloway joined us. He was a short man wearing an oversized white lab coat that split wide in the middle to reveal his rounded belly. He wore silver bifocals on his turned-up nose. His thinning dark hair was combed over his bald palette, making him look like a man who’d long passed his prime, if he’d ever had one.

  Mother took his hand. “It’s so nice to see you, Doctor Galloway. I’ve been having a little trouble with this cast, you see.”

  “A little trouble?” I said. “You should have seen how she got stuck—”

  “I’m perfectly capable of talking to my own doctor. You and David can go to the waiting room. I’ve got privacy rights, you know.”

  David and I looked at each other and then at the doctor. He looked over his bifocals and smiled. “That will be fine,” he said as much to us as to Mother.

  Honestly, I felt as if I’d been sent to my room. As I shuffled out the door, David turned back. “Gram, just let me know if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  A moment later, David sat next to me in one of the navy plastic and chrome chairs. The receptionist must have gone to lunch because the place was deserted. I shook my head. “Mother banished us. How do you like that?”

  David patted my hand. “She’s losing her sense of control,” he said. “That’s why she lashes out sometimes.”

  I wanted to say, Sometimes? She’s lashed out at me my whole life, and at my first husband and at you. How is it you don’t walk away?

  I wanted to say that, but in truth, I couldn’t out of fear that David would walk. I needed him, and in his grief over Harmony’s passing, he needed me too.

  I leaned back against the clinic gray wall and closed my eyes. “She’s been a bit difficult.”

  David grinned. “I get what you’re going through. I went through much of the same thing when Harmony got sick.”

  I looked at him then. I’d never thought about what it was like for him with Harmony’s cancer. Oh, bless him. I looked into his brown eyes, which were looking beyond me and into his past. “That must have been hard for you.”

  His eyes focused on mine, and I squeezed his hand. “It was. But I survived it and—”

  The front door of the office flew open, and Donna ran in, looking ragged. Had she worked last night too?

  Her cheeks were pinked from the chill of the day, and her curls were just long enough to give her a windblown look. It was a nice effect, even though she was dressed in her ratty black sweats.

  I stood up. “Donna! What are you doing here?”

  She stopped and stared at David and me as if she’d forgotten our names. “Is everything okay? I mean, Fred called and said something had happened to Mrs. Swenson’s leg.”

  “How did Fred know?” I asked, amazed.

  David looked a bit sheepish. “I called him on my cell, on the way over here.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, I’m supposed to call him with a report when we’re done.”

  I had to blink back my surprise. David really was becoming part of the family.

  David pointed at the empty seat next to him. “We don’t know much of anything yet. Wanna join the wait?”

  Donna ignored his gesture and sat down in a chair just opposite of us. “What happened?”

  “She got stuck in the bathroom. She couldn’t get off the toilet, and David thinks she may have another fracture.”

  “Oh no.”

  “David helped us get her here,” I said.

  I could tell Donna was impressed, though she tried to hide it. “Oh.”

  David grinned. “Long time no see, Donna.”

  Donna, so help her, smiled back. “Yeah, right. Seems like we were just working a scene together, when was that? Four days ago?”

  Hmm. What is going on here? My heart quickened. I mean, I’d have loved for David to stop dating Velvet, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted him to take Donna away from Wade. But come to think of it, Donna hadn’t had a lot to say about Wade lately. In fact, he barely nodded our way at church. Had something happened?

  Nurse Penny, a tall brunette, stood at the entrance to the inner hallway. She looked professional dressed in a blue snap-down cotton shirt, which she wore over white pants. She glanced down at her clipboard. “David, I was wondering if you could help us get Mrs. Swenson on the X-ray table.”

  David practically leaped into the air. I stood too.

  Penny shifted her weight. “No, just David.”

  I sat down and watched as my only son darted out of the room. Donna and I stared into space for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. I slowly looked at her, wishing I could ask her a question that she’d think was none of my business.

  “What?” she finally asked. “Do I have a second head?”

  I chuckled. “Dear, I’d never tell you if you did. But won’t you come sit by me? We haven’t had a talk in ages.”

  Reluctantly she sat down beside me.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Wade these days?”

  She hung her head. “I think we broke up.”

  I grabbed her hand. “Donna, no. What happened?”

  When she looked up, her eyes were glistening. “Not only do I have the little problem of his mother, but I think I’m pushing him away.”

  “You’re having a problem with Fay Gage?” I sniffed a laugh. “Who doesn’t? That woman is the reason he became an alcoholic.”

  Donna’s lips parted. “Vonnie! I’m surprised you said that out loud. But from the way Fay tells it, I’m the one responsible for everything that happened to Wade. She never wants me near her son again.”

  “So, how are you and Wade handling this?”

  Donna shrugged. “We’re not; we’re not even speaking.”

  I reached for her then and pulled her to my soft shoulder. “Oh Donna, I’m so sorry.”

  But before I could say more, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see David watching from the hallway. How much had he heard? He answered that question by quietly disappearing the way he’d come. But I’d seen the answer in his eyes.

  Everything.

  I patted Donna’s shoulder, and she pulled away and brushed at her eyes with her fingertips. Had she seen David?

  No, I could tell she hadn’t. Suddenly David reappeared and sat across from us.

  “How is Mother?” I asked him.

  “She’s all smiles for the doctor, but he won’t know anything more until the films are developed. He may run a couple of blood tests too.”

  “For what?” Donna asked.

  The nurse in me kicked in, and I answered, “To see if there could be another organic reason for her troubles.”

  Donna looked concerned. “Organic? You mean like osteoporosis, cancer, or some horrible disease?”

  I leaned back and spent a moment contemplating the worst of the possibilities, and it was as if Mother had slapped me herself. I admit it, I was mad at her. But right now, whatever was happening to her was happening to me. I fell silent, and the three of us sat together for what seemed an eternity. I would occasionally swat at the dirt stains on my light blue sweatshirt and jeans, then break the silence with a light sniffle.

  Donna gave me a hug. “Aw, Vonnie, it’ll be okay.”

  I wasn’t so sure as I searched in my purse for a tissue. David handed me one from the box on the nearby c
offee table. He said, “I know I’m new to the family and I don’t know much about God. But maybe this would be a good time to pray?”

  I dabbed at my eyes and nodded.

  “Let me.” He reached for my hand, then for Donna’s as he bowed his head. The three of us formed a tight circle. “Lord, help my grandmother and my mother. Be with us. And show me what it means to believe in you the way I should. Teach me how to pray for Gram. Amen.”

  My head bobbed up. “Oh David . . .”

  Before I could say more, Nurse Penny was standing at the hallway door, pushing Mother’s wheelchair. Mother was sporting a new and larger cast. “I haven’t died, you know.”

  I jumped up and ran to her. “What did the doctor say?”

  “That’s my business. All you need to know is I’ve got another six weeks before Doctor Galloway takes this thing off. So, let’s go home. I missed lunch and I’m starving. Vonnie, didn’t you say you made cream of potato soup?”

  David walked over so he could push Mother’s wheelchair to the car. Donna and I followed.

  “There’s enough for everyone.” I turned to Donna. “Care to join us?”

  Donna crossed her arms. “Okay, but only to help you.”

  David said, “Count me in.”

  Mother looked up at the three of us. “Then, let’s hit it.”

  “Cream of potato soup, coming right up,” I said.

  Lizzie

  13

  Pressure Cooker

  I awoke on Saturday morning with a nagging headache, something I was doing more frequently of late. It began in the nape of my neck and wrapped itself like a giant hand with splayed fingers across my skull. I opened first one eye and then another to the haze of sunlight entering through my bedroom draperies, swearing to either stop the nonsense of my secret obsession or to drive over to one of the outlets in Silverthorne and purchase some blackout curtains. I closed my eyes again, begging God for more sleep as phrases from our catering club business meeting played ping-pong within the recesses of my brain.

  Vonnie: Do they intend to serve alcohol?

  Lisa Leann: We talked about that.

  Vonnie: Because I don’t think I could justify this from a spiritual standpoint.

  Brad (How’d he get in there?): What brings you to my bar on such a cold night? I’m positive I’ve never seen you here before.

  Me: No, I should say not.

  I heard the tape of events rewinding, screeching like nails down a blackboard along the way.

  Me: Good evening, Brad. I’ll have an Irish coffee, just like the one you prepared for me last time. Only this time, a little more Irish and a little less coffee.

  Vonnie: Did you hear me, Lizzie? I said that I just don’t think I can justify this from a—

  Me: I heard you, I heard you. Must you shout in my ear like that? And stop being so self-righteous, Vonnie Westbrook. There’s surely more skeletons in your closet than just the old bones David Harris brought with him …

  Where did that come from? Where did that come from? Where did that—

  Me: Even Jesus drank wine.

  Donna: Go Jesus.

  Brad: Go, Mrs. Prattle. (deep dimple showing)

  Lisa Leann: Beverly and I have already discussed this. She would like to have the party in the fel-lowship hall of the church . . . the church … the church—

  The phone by my bedside rang with a shrill. I bolted upright, grabbing my head and holding it onto my shoulders.

  “Are you going to answer that?” Samuel asked from his side of the bed.

  I reached for the phone, glancing at the clock as I did so. It was 8:30 in the morning.

  “Hullo.”

  “Lizzie? Lisa Leann. Glad you’re awake already.”

  “Mmm.” My tongue felt as though it were sticking to the roof of my mouth. “Lisa Leann? What’s wrong?”

  “I suppose you’ve heard from Beverly Jackson?”

  Lisa Leann sounded even more animated than usual.

  “Beverly.” I closed my eyes and kept them shut.

  “Lizzie, this is awful. It’s just awful. I can’t tell you how awful it is. I mean, what is poor Donna going to think? And Evangeline too, no less?”

  “What are you talking about, Lisa Leann?” I said. Or at least what I tried to say. To my ears it sounded more like, “Wha-a-you-tal-but-Lee-Leeaaaa . . .”

  She paused, but only for the most minute of moments. “Lizzie? What’s ailing you, girl? You sound like you just woke up.”

  “I did,” I whispered back to her.

  “Oh. Oh,” she said, then continued. “Well, here’s the deal, and I won’t get into the whole thing now. You probably won’t remember this anyway, but I’m calling an emergency meeting at my shop at one o’clock this afternoon. I’ll call you back in about an hour or so to make sure you heard me.”

  “I hear you, Lisa Leann. I don’t need another call. Meeting at one o’clock.”

  “That’s right. One. On the button. I’ll see you then.”

  I hung up the phone.

  “Who was that?”

  “Lisa Leann.” I looked over at my groggy husband, then ever so gently laid my head back against the pillow.

  “What in the world did she want at this hour?”

  “For the life of me, I have no idea.”

  “Mmm.” He shifted a bit in the bed, turning it into something akin to a boat in the middle of a stormy sea. “What time did you get home last night?”

  “I’m not sure.” Yes, you are. You know. It was 2:00 in the morning.

  “How’s your mother?”

  I felt my face grow warm. I’d told Samuel I was going to spend my Friday evening with Mom. Anything, I’d said, to get out of this zoo of a house. It was a lie, of course. But, I hadn’t gone to Apple’s. No longer willing to take a chance on being seen by someone who knew me, I’d gone to an intimate tavern located in the back of a Swiss inn in Silverthorne; a place where I’d blend in with the locals and the tourists. A place where I could sip red wine and read a book by dim lighting, or close my eyes and relax in the hum of soft music that played from overhead.

  It was quite simple, wasn’t it? And I had hardly become a lush. So why did my head hurt so badly?

  “She’s fine,” I lied.

  “Lucid?”

  “Pretty much.” O Lord . . . I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry . . . “

  What did you two do with yourselves for the whole night?”

  I turned my head to look at him. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

  He looked at me square in the eye. “No, I was just wondering what you did. Because I know you weren’t in her apartment just hanging out. I thought maybe you’d gone down to see a movie, or game night, or—”

  “What do you mean you know we weren’t in her room?”

  Samuel propped up on his elbows. “I tried to call you once. You didn’t answer your cell phone either.”

  “You called my cell?”

  “Went right to voice mail. I didn’t bother to leave a message. I figured you had it off.”

  I sighed. “I must have forgotten to turn it on.” No, you didn’t. You didn’t want to be found out . . . in case it rang . . . and you had to explain background noise.

  “A lot of good it’ll do you like that.”

  “Sorry.”

  Samuel raised himself up a bit more. “What’s wrong with you, Lizzie?”

  I reached for his pillow and placed it over my face. “I’m just tired. I was really looking forward to sleeping in this morning, and now . . .”

  Samuel pulled the pillow away from me, and I automatically closed my eyes. “I know you better than that, woman. What’s going on with you?” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Is it the kids being here? Is that it?”

  I pondered his question before answering. Opening my eyes ever so slowly, I nodded. “This is driving me crazy. I love my children. My precious grandchildren. You know I do.

  Samuel leaned over then and pecked my lip
s with his. “Ah, Lizzie Prattle is human after all.” He placed his head back on his pillow and then turned it so as to keep his gaze on my face.

  I frowned. “What do you mean by that crack?”

  He smiled at me in that way he has that still melts my heart. “Nothing ever seems to faze you, Liz. Your mother moves here in a less-than-healthy state and you bend your life around it. When the kids mess up, you take it in stride. When your husband gets sick and hangs out entirely too much in front of the television, you take that in stride too. No matter what goes on at work, you survive it. Your daughter’s wedding plans, with all that they involve, don’t seem to faze you any more than one of her childhood birthday parties did. So, we’ll blow up a few colorful balloons and serve cake. That’s always been your way.” I watched a shadow fall over his face. “But not so much lately.” He took in a deep breath then let it out so slowly I was nearly unaware of it. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you. Even if just a little bit.”

  I stared at him for a moment before answering. This conversation was starting to get too close for comfort, and I needed a road out. “Lisa Leann has called a meeting for one o’clock. Apparently something has happened concerning Michelle’s bridal shower.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Not really. You’re talking about all the things going on in my life, and I’m telling you about another thing going on in my life.”

  “Lizzie, Lizzie.”

  “Samuel, Samuel.”

  “We’ve got to get some of this chaos out of our lives.”

  “Hold that thought,” I said, then ever-so-carefully swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the chill of the room as it slapped them awake.

  Since Tim and Samantha and their kids had moved in with us, I had moved a small coffeepot with all the fixings and two large mugs to one of the occasional tables in our bedroom, thereby allowing us a private place for coffee and quiet on mornings such as this when no one had anyplace special to be by any certain time. I always prepared the coffee the afternoon before so all I had to do was push the “on” switch, which I now did, then climbed back into the warmth of our bed.

 

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