We Interrupt This Date

by L. C. Evans

  “You don’t understand, Susan. You don’t understand one single thing that’s going on and I am quickly becoming exasperated with you.”

  “I understand everything. That’s why I’m resigning from your ghost tour business. Effective now.”

  She braked, swung the wheel over and parked in front of an antique store. “You do not understand. Now stop being silly or I’ll climb out of my seat and shake some sense into you.”

  “You can’t expect me to keep the job after what’s happened between you and Jack.” I did not look at her, though I wondered if she’d at least have the grace to blush over her betrayal of our friendship.

  “You idiot, nothing has happened. There is no me and Jack. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Jack called me a few hours ago and told me you were under the mistaken impression that he and I were dating or madly in love and I knew I had to find you and get you to believe the truth. To tell you the truth, my feelings are really hurt that you’d believe I’d go after Jack.”

  “Call it what you will. Lunch with Jack. After quitting time get togethers in my office with Jack. Dinner with Jack. Hmmm. I’m not Sherlock Holmes, but I’m not stupid, either.”

  She made a growling sound that Mama would have disapproved of. “I’d hit you if I thought it would help you start thinking straight. I admit I haven’t always been the easiest friend. I’m usually running around with fourteen different irons in the fire, too busy thinking about what I’ve got going on to pay all that much attention to anyone else. But I love you. You’ve always been there for me and I’ve tried to be there for you. After all our years as best friends, do you really think I’d go out with the guy you’ve been mooning over since high school?”

  “I have not been mooning.” I swiveled in my seat to face her. “I was happily married for almost twenty years. I never had thoughts of another man and don’t you dare accuse me of infidelity. No thoughts of any man but my husband. Not for one single second.”

  “Maybe not until things went sour with T. Chandler, but once you realized your husband was cheating and you realized the marriage was over, you wondered what would have happened if you’d married Jack instead of him. You wondered if you’d be divorced now, and then you knew you wouldn’t be because Jack isn’t T. Chandler.”

  “I never…”

  My cheeks blazed. How did she know? I hadn’t told anyone that, not even myself. Not until this very moment. God, she was right. How could I have kept a secret like that from myself?

  “Jack and I have never been more than good friends,” I said making my tone sound neutral. Tried to, anyway, but I could tell Veronica wasn’t buying my story for even a fraction of a second. “Lately we can’t seem to agree on anything. We don’t have the least bit of attraction for each other—we never did.” Sure and the moon was going to dance in the sky tonight over Fort Sumter.

  “Ha! I guess you still believe your own lies. Not only do you owe Jack and me a huge apology, but you need to do what you should have done years ago and tell him how you feel.”

  “No! I mean, okay, I apologize. I should have known you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” I felt like slime. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she fired me. Wait. She couldn’t. I’d already quit. But she’d probably dump me as a friend and that was exactly what I deserved. “Next time I see Jack, I’ll tell him I’m sorry, though I’m not talking to him about feelings. I have no reason to.”

  “You are so stubborn.” She started the car and pulled out of her parking spot. “Exactly like your mother.”

  “I am not like Mama,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not one bit—just ask her.”

  “You are great at hiding things from yourself, too. Admit it.”

  I wasn’t. Yes, I was. Failing to analyze myself made life a lot easier for me, made it so comforting to simply coast along in neutral. Until now.

  We rode another few blocks in silence. A light breeze ruffled the fronds of a palm tree as we passed. The streets had quieted, most of the tourists in for the night.

  “Here’s your garage.” Veronica signaled a turn.

  I put my hand on the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. You can leave me off here.” I had a lot of thinking to do and I was still wondering why the gods had smiled on me and given me a friend like Veronica. I certainly didn’t deserve her, not after the way I’d jumped to stupid conclusions about her and Jack.

  “What level are you on?”

  I started to protest, but figured if I did, she’d accuse me again of being like my mother. “Three,” I said.

  She grabbed a parking ticket. The gate rose and the Beemer smoothly rolled forward and up the ramp. She took me to the Cadillac, the only car on level three and practically the only car left in the parking deck. Before I could get out of my seat, she put her hand on my arm. “By the way, I’m not accepting your resignation. I’ll expect you in the office at eight tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about seeing Jack at the Blackthorn House since he’s going to be over in Ashley looking at another building for me. In case you’re wondering, the Ashley job was the only topic of conversation in your office after you left, you dope.”

  My face flushed. “Love you, mean it,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

  I watched her drive away. Veronica was right--I was a dope. About a lot of things. I was glad she’d cleared things up and glad she hadn’t let me quit my job and run away from home. But after thinking about it all evening, I still wasn’t sorry about my little show of attitude in my kitchen. Big show. It was past time for me to put a stop to the “let Susan handle it” routine.

  But of course, even after I apologized to Jack, I couldn’t expect him to want me to be more than a casual friend. He’d only been back in town a few weeks and already we’d managed to clash. The high school years when we’d been best pals were nothing but a collection of sweet memories.

  With a deep sigh, I started the Cadillac and slowly rolled down the ramp to the exit. It was almost midnight. I was wide awake, but I knew I’d be sorry for the late night when I had to get up for work.

  When I got home, I parked at the end of the driveway, instead of putting the car in the garage. Then I slipped off my shoes before I stepped into the house. I’d tiptoe upstairs so I wouldn’t wake anyone.

  Unfortunately Brad didn’t have my reservations about disturbing the rest of the family. He hadn’t made a sound when I drove up, and I almost forgot he existed. No, Brad politely waited until I pushed open the front door before he started raising holy hell. Both Chihuahuas leaped out of their bed and, snarling their displeasure, made a beeline for my ankles. The light in the upstairs hallway came on at the same time as the family room light.

  Mama, unable to climb the stairs on her bad ankle, had been sleeping on the couch. I’d forgotten about that. Now she sat up and called, “Susan, is that you?”

  “Who else? Would you please call off your dogs?”

  “Certainly. I wouldn’t dream of letting them cause trouble, especially not in someone else’s home. Babies, babies, come to Mama.”

  Poof. They were gone, thundering across the wood floor like two miniature buffalo and back into the family room to make a fuss over Mama.

  I rubbed a sore spot on my ankle where Tiny had nipped me. Then I debated. Make myself a soothing cup of herbal tea? Or head upstairs and collapse into bed with the blankets over my head?

  I finally opted for the tea. Not wanting to be rude, I offered Mama a cup. I expected her to refuse and make a remark about how she wouldn’t want to put me out. No indeed, not after I’d made my feelings about her and the rest of the family clear and she would not be a burden, she’d see herself in the grave first, and she was moving out first thing in the morning, and she would never again speak to me. And I was dying inside because she was my mama and I did not want to lose her love.

  “Thank you, Susan. I’d enjoy a cup of tea. Chamomile, if you have it.”

  My eyebrows arched. Mama was probably waiting until morning to let me
know how she felt and deliver her lecture to put me in my place.

  “I’d like some, too. Peppermint if it’s not too much trouble.” DeLorean had slipped quietly downstairs and now she stood in the foyer rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her hair was tousled and her feet were bare and she looked for all the world like she had at age seven when she’d wait for me to come home from a date and read her a story.

  I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “Of course it’s no trouble. I’m putting the kettle on right now.”

  All this politeness was killing me, but at least my temper tantrum hadn’t cost me two of the most important people in my life. I busied myself with the tea, grateful that Brad had finally figured out I belonged here and stopped trying to wake the dead.

  I’d originally planned to take my tea up to my room, but now that Mama and DeLorean had awakened, I carried the tray in and set it on the coffee table in front of Mama. I joined her on the couch and DeLorean sat on my other side.

  We each fixed our own tea the way we liked it—mine with a dab of artificial sweetener, DeLorean’s peppermint with sugar, and Mama’s plain chamomile with no additives. Much tinkling of spoons against cups and exclamations of how it was so soothing to drink tea. Way too much throat clearing and even a few remarks about the lovely weather.

  I was ready to scream. Finally I couldn’t stand the fake pleasantries or the suspense for one more second. “Okay,” I said, “I have something to say.” I put down my tea and watched tendrils of steam curling out of the cup as I tried to formulate my thoughts.

  DeLorean and Mama exchanged looks of apprehension. I hurried to reassure them.

  “First of all, I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for the way I said it and I’m sorry I aired family problems in front of Jack. I’ll call Christian tomorrow and tell him the same thing. I’m not backing down, though. From now on, if either of you have a real emergency, call me. But if you want me to drop everything to run errands or handle problems you could take care of on your own, don’t bother. And I hope you understand, I am not the only one in the wrong.” Please, God, let them understand. I’d grown; I’d changed. Was it my fault it had taken me years to figure out my life?

  Mama pursed her lips and put her cup down as delicately as if it were made of spun sugar. “Susan, dear, if you had issues with DeLorean—and even with me—you should have spoken up sooner. After all, we are not mind readers. We cannot modify our behavior unless we know we are causing a problem.”

  “Mama’s right.” DeLorean gazed at me steadily. “We had a long talk after you roared down the street in Mama’s Cadillac like you were driving the pace car for a NASCAR race. Really, Susan, I don’t understand why you were angry with us. You always jumped right in and took responsibility whether we asked you to or not. After a while, we started expecting you to handle everything. Why wouldn’t we? You always did such a great job. And it was easier to just let you, even if we sometimes had to listen to you complain.”

  I exercised my jaw for a few seconds, opening and closing it like a demented guppy before I reluctantly said, “I guess that’s fair.”

  “I suppose the lesson to be learned is that you train people how to treat you.” Mama nodded a half dozen times to emphasize her words.

  “You sound like a self-help book, Mama. So what you two are saying is I chose my own adventures and I have to change my ways or stop bitching.”

  DeLorean grinned. “Hey, big sister, I love you. From now on things will be different. I promise I will be a lot more understanding and a lot more responsible.” She leaned closer and hugged me, almost upsetting my teacup.

  Mama moved in on my other side to join us for a group hug, which quickly went from sappy to awkward since none of us seemed to know quite how to end it or what to say or do next. How could we? We’d never had any practice actually relating to each other as adults. Now that I thought about it, the three of us had wasted years arguing and criticizing each other.

  DeLorean saved the moment by saying, “One for all and all for one. What are we now—the three musketeers?”

  “I don’t know about musketeers, dear.” Mama made a face. “I believe musketeers are rowdy men with weapons. The three tea partiers, perhaps.”

  We laughed and pulled apart, which confused the Chihuahuas. They obviously didn’t know whether to run in circles or huddle in Mama’s lap.

  Brad barked and DeLorean went to silence him before he woke Cole. Very responsible of her.

  When she returned, she said, “You’re right about Brad, Susan. I don’t have time or money for a dog. Do you think that boy Kenny would like to have him?”

  “I’m sure he would.”

  “I’ll call him tomorrow. And I’m going to see about getting a substitute teacher job. Susan—I really am sorry. I didn’t realize you were forced to work at that pawnshop. I thought T. Chandler gave you a ton of money in the divorce settlement and you’ve always been so generous, I was sure you wouldn’t mind sharing. Mama told me the truth and now I feel like a jerk.”

  “Not your fault. I could have told you how things are instead of pretending my life was one big story of success and wealth.”

  “Well, now I know and I promise I won’t be a financial burden. A substitute teaching job will do until I figure out my next move. Mama’s agreed to help out with babysitting and transportation.”

  “Guess we all have our calls to make tomorrow.” Mama put her empty cup on the table. “I’ve made a decision, too, girls. I’m going to tell Rhett the truth. Afterward if he still wants to marry me, I’m going to accept. I hope you’ll wish me happiness.”

  Group hug again. But at this point the Marsh women had had all the love and tenderness we could handle for one evening and we broke apart after a second, grinning self-consciously at each other.

  DeLorean excitedly started offering suggestions for Mama’s wedding and reception. Mama said DeLorean had no experience planning weddings and she’d handle her own arrangements—if DeLorean didn’t mind.

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t naïve enough to expect the night’s cooperative mood to last. Though our kiss and make up session had led to a new understanding, we were still human and we were still three stubborn women who had differences that would lead inevitably to disagreements. But that was the way real families were supposed to be. I hoped we could be a little more considerate of each other in the future.

  Chapter Twenty

  As predicted, next morning when my alarm went off, I regretted my late night. Even half a pot of coffee didn’t give me the usual burst of adrenaline. I walked into the office an hour later whining out loud about my puffy eyes and my head that felt equally puffy. There was no one around to hear me. I made another pot of coffee and switched on my computer so I could stare at the blank screen.

  I was supposed to be setting up advertising and calling the mechanic about my van so I wouldn’t have to keep borrowing Mama’s Cadillac. Or at the very least, getting my brochure off to the printers.

  Soon. Soon I would decide how I would start my workday.

  The workmen arrived and tromped upstairs carrying cans of paint. More screen staring on my part. Inspiration did not strike. The screen saver came on and I studied the colorful swirls. I wondered if it would help if I actually spoke to the computer and asked its opinion.

  The phone rang and I finally got to talk to a live person. The car mechanic had gotten my work number from DeLorean. My tires were old and not repairable. He quoted me a price for four new ones. I winced and agreed. I trudged across the room to get a cup of coffee, which I promptly dropped on the floor, splashing coffee across my feet and shattering the cup while I was at it.

  The day deteriorated further when I glanced out the window and saw Jack pulling into the parking lot. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Ashley on a new job, Veronica should have told me he’d be here, and I did not have one single idea why nothing had gone my way from the moment I’d crawled out of bed. This day was supposed to be a bright new beg
inning.

  I cleaned up the coffee mess and then squinted to survey my surroundings. There had to be a dark hole I could crawl into until Jack left. I knew Veronica was right and that I owed him an apology. But I hadn’t made her any promises about exactly when said apology would cross my lips.

  I gave up on the search for a hiding place and stood listening by the door, hoping he wouldn’t come into my office. To my relief, I heard him go upstairs and then I heard him telling someone the lock on the attic door needed to be repaired or replaced. A few minutes later his footsteps sounded on the stairs and then crossed the foyer. He was leaving.

  I sighed. Best to get this over with. There was no telling when he’d return—if ever. The Blackthorn House was nearly finished, so prepared or not, I owed him more than a phone call. I hurried out of my office and into the hall while I was still firmly resolved to admit I’d been a fool.

  “Jack, wait.”

  He had his hand on the doorknob. He wasn’t all that happy to see me, if the lack of a friendly greeting and the tightening of muscles around his eyes were any indication.

  “Could I talk to you for a second?”

  “What is it?” His hand stayed on the doorknob.

  I would have preferred a private chat in my office, but the foyer would do. Deep breath, get it done fast like pulling wax off the bikini area.

  “I want to apologize for jumping to conclusions about you and Veronica. I mean, it’s okay if you want to go out.” Oh, God, that hadn’t sounded right. And the deep breath hadn’t been that deep, so I had to take another one. “I certainly don’t have any hold on you. But Veronica’s my best friend and you two shouldn’t--” Still not right. Not to mention, I’d developed a bad case of the blushes. “Anyway, Veronica told me you two aren’t seeing each other, so I guess it doesn’t matter what I say and I sound like an idiot anyway.”