by L. C. Evans
I remembered that Mama took her babies to a place called the Pet Wellness Center and Spa that I passed every day on the way to work. I dialed them and said I had an emergency.
“Sure, we’ll do him tomorrow morning if you bring him early. We’re always busy on Saturdays, but we’ve had a cancellation.”
Tomorrow morning didn’t seem soon enough given the number of fleas I’d seen setting up homesteads on Brad’s back, but I had no desire to waste more time calling around to other shops.
As soon as I broke off the call, I started dialing Mama’s number. DeLorean looked over my shoulder and let out a shriek. She dropped her sandwich on the table, grabbed the receiver from me and slammed it down in its cradle. Her eyes went huge.
“Susan, give me a break. I knew you’d want to involve Mama first thing. You have no clue how exhausted I am. Not one clue. Cole doesn’t sleep all night long--he wakes me up like every three hours--and I had to get up way early for my flight. I had to finish packing and they make you arrive hours early for security, and then he fussed all the way across the country and I couldn’t eat those airplane snacks, so I feel positively ill.”
“Mama won’t be pleased that we didn’t tell her right away. She’s never seen Cole.”
Mama had planned to fly to LA next month, a trip that involved the services of a whole office full of travel agents, as well as at least an hour of my time every few days. We’d spent countless hours discussing how much luggage she’d need and whether she should invest in a new wardrobe. We’d argued over whether she should bring little coats for the Chihuahuas or if it would be warm enough in LA. to keep them from developing hypothermia.
“Mama will have to get over it. I simply can’t handle her right now.”
I shrugged. I put a leash on Brad and walked him in the back yard. Then I tried to put him back in his crate, an operation that took a lot more time then I’d budgeted since he dug in all four feet when I tried to move him. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to be cramped up, but there was no way I could turn him loose in the house. I supposed I’d have to hire someone to repair the fence. I gave up and jailed him in the utility room.
I grabbed my keys and left for an emergency trip to the grocery with a list that included a large bag of dog food. When I got back, DeLorean was holding Cole, feeding him a concoction that was supposed to be strained peas, but looked like what would happen if someone boiled a pot of grasshoppers and scraped the resulting goo into a jar. He was greedily slurping up his dinner and grinning at the same time. What hadn’t dribbled onto the front of DeLorean had made its way onto what used to be my clean kitchen floor. I made a mental note to shop for a high chair.
DeLorean wiped a green glob off a towel she’d draped across her front. “Susan? Would you mind feeding Cole the rest of his peas while I take a nap? I’m soooo wiped out from the trip.”
“Go,” I said, lifting Cole out of her arms and waving her toward the stairs. Out of habit I glanced at the answering machine before I sat in the chair she’d just vacated. No messages. But then DeLorean would have answered the phone while I was out and told me if anyone had called. I’d have to get used to not living alone, even though it was only a few weeks since Christian went away to college.
Cole started fussing the minute DeLorean left the room. I managed to get him to take a spoonful of his peas, which he then promptly spat at me. I cleaned the two of us and sat in a rocker with him and hummed Brahms’ Lullaby. After about ten minutes, his eyes started to droop and he was nearly asleep when Brad broke into a barking fit.
The baby startled awake and wailed loud enough to wake Rip Van Winkle if he’d been sacked out in the next room. I beamed a couple of choice thoughts Brad’s way. I expected DeLorean to hear Cole’s distress cries and rush back down to take him over from me, but she didn’t put in an appearance.
Sighing with frustration, I got up and walked Cole back and forth from the front door to the kitchen. Yesterday at this time I was still at work, wishing I were home. I’d been looking forward to lunch with Jack. Funny how fast things could change.
The phone rang and, even though the sound prompted Brad to break into a fresh barking session and Cole to break into a fresh round of crying, I was glad for the interruption. “Caraway residence, Susan speaking,” I said breathlessly.
“Honey, you sound like you were expecting Tom Cruise to give you a ring. Is that a baby I hear?” Patty sounded as cheery as ever.
“How did you know? Could it have been the distinctive, ear-splitting wail? My sister flew in from LA with her baby this afternoon.” My voice was considerably less cheery. I hadn’t been expecting Tom Cruise, but somehow I’d gotten the idea that Jack might call to reschedule our lunch date.
No, not a date, just lunch. But still.
“Brenda is on the other line with a customer. She said to ask where you keep the copies of the loan contracts because she can’t find them and she’s practically turned the office inside out. She has, too, wait ‘til you see it. It’s completely rearranged, but I don’t like the feng shui at all. She’s got the trashcan in the family center and she refuses to listen when I try to tell her she’s setting herself up for problems with Odell.”
“I think problems with Odell are in the job description.”
“Whatever. I’m going to miss you, Susan. Brenda is simply too opinionated and she says she doesn’t believe in the Universe. How can you not believe in the Universe? I mean, it’s right out there.”
Cole let out an extra loud wail, and Brad responded by throwing himself against the door of the utility room and howling like a love-starved werewolf. “The contracts are in Odell’s file cabinet next to his desk. He doesn’t let them out of his sight.”
“I’ll tell her. Sounds like you have your hands full, so I’ll let you go.”
“Later, Patty.”
What made her think I had my hands full? She couldn’t possibly know that Brad needed another walk and Cole needed his diaper changed and my sister was working on a new Guinness record for napping.
By seven o’clock, DeLorean still hadn’t come downstairs. I fixed Cole a bottle and took him to her room. She rolled over sleepily and reached for him, cuddling him next to her.
“Thanks,” she whispered huskily.
I experienced a moment of tenderness toward the little sister who used to follow me everywhere and copy everything I did. She’d even named her favorite doll after me, though I hadn’t been exactly thrilled to have a grubby, green-haired, one-eyed namesake that lived naked in the toy box.
The tender feeling lasted until I got back downstairs and discovered that Brad hadn’t been gentleman enough to wait for his next walk. I had to tie him to an oak tree in the back yard while I shoveled the mess off the utility room floor.
I turned on the TV and alternated between watching Casablanca–again--and reading a book about country houses. When was someone going to write a book about divorce houses?
The phone rang and when I glanced at the caller ID, I gave up all thoughts of feeling sorry for myself.
“Hello, Jack.”
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“I’m watching Casablanca.” I grabbed the remote and pressed mute. Rick was in the middle of telling Ilsa that they’d always have Paris.
“Woman, you need to get a life.”
“Sorry about canceling lunch, but DeLorean few in from LA with a crisis situation.” My voice was flat and matter-of-fact, but inside I was screaming, Damn it, why does my sister have such rotten timing?
“We can reschedule. But I need to ask you something. I kind of need a woman’s opinion about the master bath in my new place, the house I’m renovating. Think you can help me out?”
“You’re talking to a woman who’s relatively clueless when it comes to home decor.” I wasn’t colorblind, though Mama had accused me in injured tones of being color impaired when I tried to hang purple drapes on the windows of my scarlet walled dining room. Hey, even I knew it wasn’t a ma
tch, but they were on sale and I was too tired to keep shopping. “But if you think I can help, I’d be glad to tell you what I think about your bathroom.”
“Great. I’m working part of the day tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get off and we’ll arrange to go over there and take a look.”
He had to cut the call short. When I put the receiver down, I caught a reflection of myself in the kitchen window and saw that I was grinning like a demented smiley face.
So what? I was glad he’d phoned, despite my doubts over the value of my bathroom decorating input. For a few minutes I’d been able to feel like a desirable woman instead of DeLorean’s overworked sister. Maybe I could sneak away during the bathroom inspection and use my cell phone to consult Veronica about the decorating and then return with priceless advice. When Kelly The Girlfriend showed up, she’d be thankful for my help. We’d become good friends, maybe even go shopping together.
Something in my forehead started to thump like a jungle drum. I hoped Kelly hated Charleston.
Chapter Eight
DeLorean dragged herself into the kitchen, Cole in tow, about ten minutes after I got out of the shower in the morning. The makeup she’d forgotten to remove yesterday had turned into a dark bandit mask around her eyes, proof that she was just as tired and wrung out as she’d told me she was. She put Cole in his carrier, one of those all purpose models that doubles as a car seat and also fits into a baby carriage and a grocery cart. Then she plopped down at the table and assumed the expression of someone who’d just lost all her friends and had no prospects of getting new ones.
On cue, a wave of pity swept over me. Despite her protests that she was better off without “the flaming narcissist,” she had to be deeply hurt over his rejection of her and Cole.
“Coffee?” I leaned across the table and squeezed her shoulder, and she beamed me a grateful smile.
“Sure. I’m still on California time and this is way too early for me to be out of bed. Right when I drifted off to sleep after you brought him up, Cole started howling.”
I’d heard him, all the way downstairs in the family room. Now I wished I’d gone back up and taken him to give her a break. “Does he wake up a lot at night?”
“God, does he ever. If I’m especially tired, the little imp thinks after midnight is play time.”
“Christian used to do the same thing. And speaking of Christian, he’s going to love having Cole around. He always wanted a little brother. Of course, he won’t be home from college all that much.”
“I’ll bet he’ll make a terrific babysitter.” She put a dab of sugar in her coffee and whirred her spoon in the cup as if she were carrying out an experiment to see if coffee would whip up like cream.
DeLorean hadn’t told me much about the break up. We were both tired yesterday and I hadn’t pressed her. But I figured this was a good time for her to tell me what she had in mind as far as finding a job and a place of her own.
I fixed her a couple of slices of cinnamon toast without asking if she was hungry. I got a carton of plain yogurt for myself and topped it with banana slices.
“What happened with you and Baldwin?” With anyone else, I’d have been less direct, but DeLorean was my sister and if she was going to live at my house, I needed to know what was going on.
“He was a creep. I wanted an acting or modeling career followed by that perfect marriage I’ve always dreamed of, a little house with a picket fence, kids.” She bit her lip and blinked back tears. “Baldwin wanted a good time, not a commitment. He was furious when he found out I was pregnant. I’d never seen him so angry. Like it was all my fault. But I swear, we only--”
I held up my hand. “Spare me the details.”
As if her son had understood what she was saying, Cole let out a wail. DeLorean lifted him and cuddled him close.
She nuzzled his hair and said, “Poor little man. I didn’t pick a very good daddy for you, did I?”
DeLorean had been crazy about dolls when she was a little girl and she always said she wanted a dozen babies when she grew up. The problem was, she seemed to have started on the baby collection prematurely. I felt bad that Cole would grow up without his father. At least by the time T. Chandler and I divorced, Christian was nearly grown. But I’d still felt guilty, despite Christian’s reassurances that his father had treated me badly and didn’t deserve me.
“I know it’s awful right now, but you’ll get back on your feet. Meanwhile, you’ll have to manage on whatever child support Baldwin gives you.”
“Child support?” She stared at the wall. A delicate pink flush colored her cheeks. “Would you believe he’s buried to the hilt with child support payments and alimony for his two ex-wives? There’s barely enough left for me to buy diapers, even if he decided to support Cole.”
“What?” My voice went up a full octave. “I never knew he had ex-wives and child support. Anyway, I thought Baldwin was rich. He certainly bragged enough about his expensive furniture and his decorator and his Porsche--his whole designer life.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you about his marriages? It must have slipped my mind because I’m sure it’s something I would have told you. Anyway, after two failures, Baldwin said he was afraid to commit, even though he fooled me into believing him when he said I was the love of his life. And he would be rich—he makes plenty of money--except the wives and kids get it all. There are three of them. Kids, I mean. Besides Cole. All that stuff you saw--the apartment, the furniture, his car? Credit cards. I blinded myself to the truth until it was too late.”
She said this with as much emotion as a waitress reciting the dinner special at the Crab Shack. Obviously she’d rehearsed and was doing her best to minimize the impact. My ex is a deadbeat. Could you please pass the orange juice?
I slumped in my chair like a deflated beach ball. DeLorean was going to have to manage on her own—with my help--because her baby’s father seemed to have overbooked when it came to providing for his children. Or maybe in his case it would be more appropriate to follow Mama’s example and say “offspring.”
“It’s not the end of life as you know it on planet earth. We’ll find you a job and eventually you’ll be ready to move on.”
“Job?” DeLorean looked at me, with tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “I’m too broken up right now to even think about work. Besides, you live a million miles from nowhere. How am I supposed to get to work without a car?”
A neighborhood in the suburbs of Mount Pleasant was not exactly the frontier. I pondered for a few seconds. I had a small emergency savings account. “I might be able to help with the down payment for a car. Nothing fancy or brand new, but transportation’s all you need.”
She was shaking her head before I finished speaking. “I couldn’t possibly afford daycare. I mean, it’s not like I’m qualified for a high paying job. All my salary would go to keep Cole, probably in some understaffed nursery where he’d be lonely and neglected in a wet diaper all day. He’d cry his heart out, you know he would, and I’d feel like a terrible mother.”
“Come on, DeLorean, you have no way of knowing what kind of--”
“There’s no reason to take a chance, no reason for me to trade my salary for daycare. I’ll just stay home with Cole and do your housework or something. When he’s older, and I’m over the breakup, I’ll decide what kind of career I want.”
What, when Cole was ready for college? My sister needed a reality check and she needed it now. If I could have afforded a live in housekeeper, I’d already have one.
“You have a degree in elementary education,” I ground out.
Her expression went serene. “True, but I’ve never actually taught school and I’m not sure I want to. I’m thinking of going back to college. Maybe I’ll get a nursing degree and help sick people. But right now--I couldn’t handle a job, not with what I’m going through.”
I bit back a remark that would have left scorch marks on my tongue. I could see DeLorean’s side--up to a point. And no one knew better
than I did that jobs weren’t to be had for the asking. But she wasn’t a child to be looked after by her sister. And despite the fact that she was willing to trade housework for room and board, the arrangement would be hard on me.
Impossible. I really couldn’t afford to keep her and Cole, even though Veronica was going to be paying me more than I’d been making at the pawnshop. My savings would melt away in no time and I’d have to dip into my retirement fund. I couldn’t count on much money from selling the house, either.
A few years ago T. Chandler had insisted we move out of the old house, the one we’d lived in throughout our marriage, and buy this new place. It was more in keeping with his station in life, he’d said. We had almost no equity. That was another reason for my plans to sell out and take Veronica up on her offer to give me a room at her B&B in exchange for helping out a few days a week.
I was loading the dishwasher when something, maybe the way the big dish nestled against the medium dish, which pushed against the smallest one, seemed to suggest a solution. The dishes nested together all helping each other to stand straight in the rack. What if I could persuade Mama to sell her condo and come here to live with DeLorean and Cole? I’d be able to keep the house. DeLorean and Cole-and Christian--would have a home.
I half turned and looked at my sister and felt my eyes narrow in appraisal. Mama had hinted ever since T. Chandler left me that her condo was too small and I had a ton of room. I’d ignored her, not wanting another built in boss and life critic, not to mention the Chihuahuas. But with me gone, she'd be able to stay in the master suite at the opposite end of the house from the guestroom and maybe she and DeLorean might not argue too much or they could declare a truce. Mama might even take over babysitting and let DeLorean use the Cadillac so she could work.
I’d wait until I returned from taking Brad to the groomer and then I’d call Mama to come over and meet her grandson. I’d find a way to tactfully suggest the move. It wouldn’t matter if DeLorean objected. It wasn’t like she had options. And I was desperate for a solution, more desperate than either of them knew. I couldn’t tell them about getting fired, not yet while the awfulness still made me ache inside.