by Debby Mayne
“Not as harsh as the way you’re acting. Do you realize what is going on back at that hospital? We’re talking life and death here—not some business conquest that’ll pad your bank account.” The shrillness of my own voice surprises me, but I don’t stop. “Those medical people dedicate their entire lives to helping those children get well. Blair and her family center their lives on Haley because they don’t want to let her down when she needs them. Tim has the decency to do something I just happen to know makes him very uncomfortable because he cares about others, which is more than I can say for you.”
He flinches. “Ouch.”
The chemistry I felt for Rick when we first met has turned into disdain, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change it. “Please take me home.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.” I fold my arms and dig my heels into the floorboard. Not only has the chemistry fizzled, anger is making me want to say something that would’ve gotten my mouth washed out with soap when I was a kid.
“Don’t you want to hear about my fabulous day?” He puts his hand on my knee.
“Please remove your hand, Rick. You’re in my space.”
He lifts his hand as though he’d touched a lit match. “Okay, okay. I’ll take you home. But don’t expect me to come around anymore.” He clears his throat. “It’s your loss.”
“Then I’ll just have to suffer.” How could I have been so easily fooled? You’d think I would’ve learned after Maurice.
He pulls up in front of my townhouse and sits there drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel. “We’re here. Now get out.”
No one has ever spoken to me like this—not even Maurice, who until now I’ve considered the rudest, most inconsiderate man on earth. “Oh, by the way, your equipment line is nothing but a bunch of recycled junk. I looked at something similar a couple years ago when Tim asked me what I thought about it.”
He doesn’t even bother looking me in the eye as I get out and slam the door. Before I even hit the front step, I hear tires squeal as he takes off. As I walk inside my townhouse, I feel like the stupidest woman on earth. How could I have missed all the signs of an arrogant, egotistical cad? It’s not like he ever bothered acting humble. Then I think about the last words I said to him, and I cringe. Losing control is something I’ve never allowed myself to do.
For the next hour or so, I firmly lecture myself about caring for the wrong men and letting them get to me. Just like Maurice, Rick isn’t worth an ounce of my energy. The very thought of his attitude toward the children who are in the hospital fighting for their lives gets my blood boiling, even though I keep telling myself to stop thinking about him.
I kick off my high heels and yank off the dress I’d carefully chosen for my celebratory date with Rick. As I pull on my comfy pajama bottoms and T-shirt, I think about the differences between Rick and Tim. What a sweet, gentle soul Tim is. I can’t even compare him to Rick or Maurice, the guy I wasted my high-school crush on until I found out all he wanted was for me to finance his failing family business.
Too bad my business sense doesn’t cross over to my personal life. All my life, I’ve heard about the tingly feeling girls get when Mr. Right comes along, and that’s what I want. The problem with that is my tingly feeling so far has signified that I’m crushing on Mr. Wrong.
Fortunately, I’ll be away from the office for a week, busy getting ready for my twentieth high school reunion. Based on past experience, I know I’ll be busy doing hair and won’t have a spare moment to think about personal matters, which is a good thing for me at the moment. However, there’s still the matter of facing Mandy and Blair tomorrow at the office. The combination of Rick’s behavior and the fact that they know he and I were supposed to go out for dinner after Haley’s birthday party make me want to go into hiding and not face the questions I’m sure they’ll have. But I can’t do that. This is something I need to deal with immediately or risk losing respect from the very people I depend on.
I’m so restless I can’t sleep. At the first hint of daybreak, I crawl out of bed, get ready for work, and grab a cup of coffee to go. For the first time in years, no one is at the office when I arrive.
Mandy comes in an hour later, flipping on lights, making all kinds of noise. “Priscilla? Are you in your office?” Her voice echoes down the hall.
“Yes, come on back.”
The hallway is carpeted, but I can hear the whooshing sound as she approaches my doorway. “So how was your date?”
“It wasn’t.”
She widens her eyes and lifts a finger. “Hold that thought. I’ll go get some coffee and be right back.”
I formulate a short speech about how Rick and I are too different to make a relationship work. Maybe if I keep it brief, I’ll be able to transition to a more comfortable topic, like work.
She arrives ten minutes later, cup of coffee in one hand and a picture in the other. “I brought you something.” She drops the picture on my desk. “We took a picture of Tim and some of the kids, and I printed it out on my computer before I left this morning.”
As I study the picture, I see joy on the faces of the children and Tim—even behind the makeup. It may be easy to fool adults, but from my experience, children are able to see through our facades. He sincerely cares about other people, and those kids know he was there for the right reasons.
“I sent you more pictures in an e-mail, but I thought this one would be good to frame for the office.” Mandy sighs. “Too bad you don’t have feelings for him because he sure does love you. When he talked about you on our dates, I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”
“I’m sorry.” And I am in many ways.
“Don’t be sorry. I have a great guy in my life now.” Mandy takes a sip of her coffee while watching me look at the picture. “Okay, so tell me about your date-that-wasn’t with Rick.”
I lick my lips as I think about how trite my rehearsed response is. This isn’t the time to rely on a rehearsed speech. “It ended right after we left the hospital.”
“That bad, huh?”
I nod. “Afraid so.”
“I was worried something like that might happen after I watched his reaction to the kids. He doesn’t seem to have much compassion.”
“Rick and I are so different—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get that you don’t wanna say anything bad about him. You’re that kind of person. But one thing you might wanna think about is finding someone to vent to. Bottling up all that emotion and anger can’t be good for you.”
“Anger? I’m not angry.”
She stands and smiles at me over her coffee mug. “Sure you’re not. So are you gonna buy that energy-saving product line Rick was trying to sell ya?”
I shake my head. “No, I think what we have is working out just fine.”
Still smiling, she takes a step toward the door. “Whatcha got on your agenda for today?”
“As soon as I finish up here, I’m heading out. I figured it might be good to drive on over to Piney Point and get situated at Mother’s house before I go to the Cut ’n Curl and Spa.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I got some bids on your proposed day spa in Savannah. Looks like a lot of construction people need the work, so you should be able to get a decent deal.”
“Why don’t you go through them and select the top three for me to look at after I get back?”
She gives me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mandy has come a long way since she’s been here, and I can’t imagine not having her in the office. I make a note on my cell phone to have something sent to show my appreciation. And while I’m at it, I’ll get something for Blair and her sister.
It takes me a couple of hours to finish my work. I hug both Mandy and Blair on my way out the door. “Don’t forget to have fun,” Mandy whispers. She knows me too well.
Since I travel so much, I have a second set of toiletries already in my suitcase. All I have to do is pack enough clothes for t
he week. At least while I’m at Mother’s I can do laundry.
I start out listening to the news on the radio, but when the newscasters start repeating what I already know, I plug in my iPod. The trip is always quicker when I don’t get lost in my own thoughts.
Mother doesn’t expect me until tomorrow, but I don’t think she’ll mind my coming early. In fact, she might even be happy to see me, now that she lives alone. Last time we chatted on the phone, I sensed a hint of loneliness.
When I pull onto the street where I grew up, I see a strange car parked in Mother’s driveway. It probably belongs to one of her Classy Lassie Red Hat friends.
Using the key I’ve never removed from my key ring, I let myself into the house that’s mostly dark, with the exception of the light from the kitchen that shines into the hallway and the flickering TV in the family room. Naturally, I assume Mother forgot to turn off the TV and is sitting in the kitchen chatting with whomever the car belongs to, so I reach over and flip the switch to the overhead light. And that’s when I get the surprise of my life.
No. It can’t be. The instant I see Mother all snuggled up on the sofa with a man . . . it gets even worse . . . . It’s Mr. Barrymore, the retired principal from Piney Point High School. I just want to crawl into a hole and . . .
“What are you doing here tonight?” Mother stands up and straightens her blouse. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
25
Laura
You better tell Mama, or I will!” The sound of Bonnie Sue’s screeching voice sends me flyin’ up the stairs to see what’s goin’ on.
“If you do,” Renee shouts back, “I’ll tell her about the time you and all your little cheerleader friends skipped school and hung out with those frat boys in Hattiesburg.”
Pete and I have had the toughest time keepin’ Bonnie Sue from growin’ up too fast, and there’s no tellin’ what kinda lies them college boys will tell to get what they want. I reach the top of the stairs, ready to light into Bonnie Sue, but I see Renee comin’ outta the bathroom, her face streaked with tears. And they don’t look like fresh tears either.
“What is goin’ on up here?” I’ve managed to soften my voice, but I still plan to let Bonnie Sue know she’s grounded for the summer.
Bonnie Sue pops her head out of her bedroom and smirks at her sister. “You gonna tell her, or do I have to?”
“You—”
Renee starts to call her sister a name, but I stop her. “There’ll be no name-callin’ here, young lady. One of y’all needs to start talkin’, and I’m not waitin’ all day.” I prop my fist on my hip for extra emphasis.
Bonnie Sue snickers. “If you don’t say it, I will.”
“Okay, okay.” Renee turns to me, chin quiverin’, and blurts, “Mama, I’m pregnant.”
My life has just gone from bein’ slightly messy—okay, a total mess—to bein’ a disaster. “What? How?”
Bonnie Sue laughs. “You should know, Mama. You had four young’uns.”
I point my finger toward her room. “Get back in your room right now, Missy. I’ll deal with you later.” Skipping school doesn’t sound quite as bad at the moment, but I can’t tell her that. “And be prepared for a summer of hard work . . . around the house.”
Bonnie Sue narrows her eyes at her sister and mouths something I can’t quite decipher, but I suspect it involves pain later. When I glare at her, she bobs her head, pops back into her room, and slams the door behind her, leaving Renee and me facing each other.
“Mama, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” She lifts her hands to her face, and her whole entire body starts shakin’.
It breaks my heart to see my second-born in such sad shape, so I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, but you did somethin’ you knew you weren’t s’posed to do, and that’s what happens.”
“Am I grounded too?” She separates two of her fingers and looks at me with one eye.
I slowly shake my head. “I could ground you, but I think you’ll be payin’ for this much longer than anything I can do to punish you. Have you been to the doctor?”
“No.”
“How do you know you’re . . . pregnant?” The word sticks in my throat, but I try not to let my child know how afraid I am.
“Home pregnancy test.” She points to the package in the bathroom trashcan. “I was gonna wrap it in toilet paper, but Bonnie Sue walked in before I had a chance to.”
“So when were you plannin’ on tellin’ us?”
Her chin quivers. “I don’t know.”
There are a lot of things I don’t know, but one thing I do is that we can’t pretend this isn’t happenin’. “Do you wanna tell your daddy, or do you want me to?”
“Do we hafta tell him?”
Renee sure is actin’ stupid for a girl who used to be so smart. “Do you think he won’t notice when your belly starts growin’?”
“I don’t know. He don’t notice a lot of things.”
She has a point, but I’m not gonna make this easy for her. “I think you should tell him, Renee.”
Bonnie Sue opens her door a crack. “I’ll tell him if you can’t.”
“Get back in your room, Bonnie Sue.” After she closes her door, I turn back to Renee. “You better tell him before he finds out from someone else. Does Wilson know?”
“He’s the one who got the home pregnancy test for me.”
“Have you talked to him since you got the results?”
“Not yet.” She sniffles and leans toward me, putting her arms around my neck. “Mama, I’m so scared.”
“I know you are, honey, and you have every reason to be. Your daddy is gonna be furious.”
“That’s not what I’m scared of. What am I gonna do with a baby? I don’t even like to babysit.”
“It’s different when the baby is your own.” I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I continue. “When that precious little package makes its appearance, you’ll feel more love in your heart than you ever imagined possible.”
“Mama!” Bonnie Sue’s voice rings out from behind her closed door. “Can I come out now?”
I let out a deep sigh. “Okay, but you better behave. I’ll deal with you later.”
She comes waltzing outta her room lookin’ like a diva. “Hey, Mama, you’re gonna be a granny.”
Now I’m ready to toss my cookies, but I swallow the lump that’s still growin’ in my throat and shake my head. “Bonnie Sue, if you keep this up, you’ll stay grounded ’til you’re outta high school, and that means no junior-senior prom for you.”
Bonnie Sue scowls at Renee. “Looky what you gone and done. You’re ruinin’ everything for me.”
“I wasn’t even thinkin’ about you, Bonnie Sue.”
That’s an understatement. “Girls, why don’t the two of you talk quietly while I go figure out what to do next?”
I’m halfway down the stairs, when Renee hollers, “Mama, you’re not gonna tell Daddy today, are you?”
“No, honey. Remember, I said you are.”
“Can’t we wait?” Her voice is much closer, so I stop and turn around to see her standin’ at the top of the stairs, lookin’ like the little girl I remember from back when she was still innocent.
Before I have a chance to answer, I hear Bonnie Sue snorting. “It’s gonna be real obvious soon, you moron.”
“There’ll be no name-calling. I’ll send your daddy up here when he gets home.” They disappear, and I continue on downstairs.
When I get to the kitchen, Little Jack is sittin’ at the table with a heapin’ bowl of ice cream in front of him. “Don’t eat too much, or you’ll ruin your supper.” That’s not exactly true anymore, what with him growin’ like a weed these days, but I been sayin’ that since he was a toddler, and I’m not about to stop now.
“When can I get my permit?” He stabs the ice cream with his spoon and lifts a blob about twice the size of his mouth. “I can’t wait to start driv
in’.”
I give him what I hope passes as a mama-worthy glance. “You’re gonna have to wait. You’re still not old enough.”
“Daddy says I hafta know this book inside and out to take the test.” He taps the drivers’ test book in front of him. “Even if I start now, I’ll never learn all this.”
Sometimes I wonder how Jack made it this far in life. “You do realize there’s a test involved, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s just stupid stuff like ‘What do you do at a stop sign?’ I already know what to do.”
“Jack, you know there’s more to it than that.”
He looks at me with wide eyes as he shoves a humongous bite of ice cream into his mouth and swallows, followed by a grimace. “Brain freeze.”
My family may be dysfunctional, but I love every single person—even when I wonder if aliens might have taken over their brains. “Slow down.”
“I really wanna drive.” He keeps shoveling ice cream into his face until he gets another brain freeze. You’d think he might slow down to keep the same thing from happenin’ again and again, which is the very reason both Pete and I are worried about him drivin’ a car. No matter what he’s doin’, Jack doesn’t seem to learn from mistakes. Our other young’uns learned early on that if somethin’ hurt they needed to quit doin’ whatever it was that caused the pain. I know we’re not supposed to compare the kids to each other, but I can’t help it.
Jack opens the book, takes a brief glance at it, and makes a face worse than when he had brain freeze. “This is stupid stuff. I’ll never need to know all that.”
“Maybe not, but it’s better to learn it and not need it than to need it and not know it.” Oh man, I’m startin’ to sound like my mama.
Jack’s chin falls slack. “Huh?”
“Never mind, sweetie.” I figure when he’s old enough to get his permit he’ll do whatever it takes. He always does, and I have to admit I’m often surprised by the results.
“When’s Daddy gettin’ home?”
My husband walks in the door every evenin’ around five o’clock, just like clockwork. “Same time as always.”
“I’m starvin’.”