by Rebeca Seitz
So that was it. Even though she’d denied it to herself, the sisters, and Clay, the problem boiled down to Zelda assuming a Mom-figure place. Momma’s presence in that space so filled it that no room existed for another. And being “friends” with Daddy’s wife simply didn’t feel right; it didn’t fit.
Clayton’s skin felt silky soft beneath her fingertip when she ran it lightly down his face. Such a wonderful child. What agony Momma must have endured knowing she would soon leave her daughters behind. Tandy nearly couldn’t bear the thought of Momma adjusting to such an idea. She wished she had a few more minutes with Momma to let her know they’d all turned out all right. They had their difficulties— Meg especially, right now—but they were making it.
Could Momma see them from heaven? Daddy said the Bible didn’t cover that. That meant if she chose to believe Momma kept tabs on them, then there wasn’t much if any Scripture to say otherwise.
Tandy took comfort in that, though she knew that believing Momma knew what the sisters experienced on a day-to-day basis was a big reason they didn’t have room for Zelda. What would Momma say to that?
Momma, the epitome of Southern hospitality, would have welcomed Zelda with open arms. Tandy pictured her now, dressed in the apron she wore more days than not, arms extended to an approaching Zelda. The sight of Zelda—with her short, spiky red hair and artfully applied makeup and clinking bracelets—climbing a porch to stand beside Momma with her long, flowing locks, fresh skin, and lack of beauty accoutrements … Tandy couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled forth. Daddy certainly had varying tastes to find love with two such different women.
She switched Clayton to the other side and went on with her mental planning. Assuming they scrapped the customary few hours, she’d have a couple left before dinnertime to run to Darnelle’s for groceries. If only she’d put that pad of paper by the rocker like her parenting magazine suggested, she could make a grocery list right now. No sense making one in her head—she’d only forget it by this afternoon.
Okay, so scrapping, grocery store, then dinner. No time to go by the office and check on Sisters, Ink memberships, which was fine given that today was Saturday and not a workday.
She hummed “When We All Get to Heaven,” one of Momma’s favorite old hymns, and rocked to the rhythm. By the second round of all four verses, Clayton had filled his belly and turned his head away. Tandy stood and returned to her bedroom to get dressed for what promised to be a long day of activity.
Settling Clayton in his bouncy seat, she punched the button to activate music. Clayton smiled as soon as he heard the notes. Definitely a musical kid. She slid on jeans—no time to shave her legs—and a blue sleeveless button-up top. Her brown sandals completed the look and she had herself and Clayton out the door by 7:45. She descended the stairs and entered the diner through its back door.
Clay stood at the stove where she’d earlier envisioned him, a spatula in one hand. Bacon sizzled from the stovetop and “I Heard It through the Grapevine” poured from the nearby radio’s speakers.
“Are you revisiting the wonder years?”
He looked up and grinned. “Needed a little Motown to get me going this morning. You two are out the door early.”
“Scrapping at Daddy’s, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Want to take some breakfast to the girls?”
“If I show up without donuts, I’m not sure they’ll let me in.”
“You know where they are. I’d get them for you, but it’s a full house out there and everybody came in craving eggs today.”
Tandy walked through the kitchen to the doorway that led into the eating area. “No problem. You cook. I’ll steal breakfast.”
She left him singing along with the radio and entered the eating area. He hadn’t been kidding—every chair was filled. The loud din of conversation filled the room and drowned out Clay’s music. Good grief. What a madhouse! How did Clay present a cheerful face to so many people this early in the morning? She shook her head. Thank goodness that was his duty and not hers. So long as Stars Hill needed food, they’d be able to pay the bills and put a little back for Clayton’s Harvard fund.
Sitting Clayton on the bar, she reached under the counter and retrieved a donut box. The glass-domed containers scattered across the bar area gave her good pickings to mollify the sisters. Chocolate-covered, sprinkled, and plain old glazed ought to do the trick. She filled the box, closed the lid, and once again scooped up Clayton. Time to hit the road.
A few customers caught her eye and waved. She nodded and kept moving. No time for chitchat. Scrapping time awaited.
“We’re outta here, babe,” she said as they walked back through the kitchen door.
“Be careful. Love you.”
She planted a quick peck on his lips, careful to keep Clayton on her hip away from the sizzling stovetop. “Love you, too. See ya tonight for dinner. I’m cooking.”
He arched a brow. “Was that your warning?”
“Don’t get excited. It’s spaghetti.”
“Ah, one of your two specialty dishes.”
“If by specialty you mean the only ones I know how to make then, yes, one of my two specialty dishes.”
He smiled. “See you tonight.”
She left the diner and entered the bright sunshine outside, which served to wipe away the last vestiges of morning fog from her brain. Drat, she forgot to grab caffeine from the diner.
Daddy better be stocked up in sodas or she’d be making a return trip to town.
* * *
“I’M HERE!” TANDY struggled to get up the steps and in the front door with her arms laden down by Clayton, the donut box, and a bag of newly purchased scrapping products.
“Oh! Let me help you.” Zelda took the donut box from her hands.
“Thanks. I wouldn’t have made it much farther.”
“You were doing a fine job.”
What was up with this new, helpful Zelda? Tandy tried to get a look at Zelda’s face but couldn’t.
“The other sisters are already here and upstairs. How about I trade you the donuts for Clayton and get him settled on the floor with some toys while you go get to scrapping?”
Momma taught them all to never look a gift horse in the mouth, so Tandy ignored the clanging bells in her brain warning her that someone had traded Zelda in for some look-alike, and handed Clayton over. Despite Tandy’s inability to bond with the woman, Clayton always went willingly into Zelda’s arms. Maybe the plethora of shiny objects kept his interest. Or the craziness of the hair. Either way, Clayton reached out for Zelda as soon as Tandy leaned him in her direction.
“Hello, cutie,” Zelda greeted the seven-month-old.
Clayton gurgled back, making Zelda and Tandy laugh.
“Are you the cutest little thing in the world?” Zelda held Clayton up in the air, turning him side to side. “Just the cutest little thing ever?”
Clayton responded by jamming a fist in his mouth and sucking.
Zelda lowered him to her hip and smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Since Clayton seemed to be in capable hands, Tandy said, “Thanks, Zelda,” and went for the stairs. As she came into the scrapping room, she saw the sisters already gathered around the scrapping table working intently on their layouts.
“Hi, girls.” Tandy bounded across the room to the supply shelf, pulling down her supplies while the sisters greeted her.
Kendra shoved photos around with one long purple fingernail in an attempt to get the best layout arrangement. “Where’s Clayton?”
“Downstairs with Zelda. I’m telling you, I don’t know what kind of spell she has over that kid, but he thinks she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”
Kendra looked up. “It’s the jewelry. All that shiny stuff.” She went back to her photos.
“Hmm. That’s what I thought.”
Joy slid a completed page into a page protector. “Or perhaps Clayton recognizes someone who functions at his level.”
“Joy La
sky! I can’t believe you’d say such.”
Joy raised a delicate shoulder. “A spade is a spade, Tandy.”
Tandy carried her supplies over to her spot at the table and settled in. “Still, you never speak negatively about someone.”
“Well, Mother wouldn’t be pleased with me saying it aloud, but she would agree to the statement’s truth.”
Tandy cast a glance over at Meg, unsure if her silence came from a difficult mood or particularly focused concentration. Seeing Meg’s lip gathered between her teeth, she assumed the latter. “So, what’s going on with everybody? We haven’t gotten together in so long and I’m out of touch.”
“That’s ’cause you’re stuck in Mommy World,” Kendra mumbled.
“Hey, I can’t help it if my seven-month-old requires more time than my adult sisters,” Tandy shot back, stung by the accusation and reminded of her conversation with Clay from the night before.
Kendra gave her a curious glance. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything, T. Just making an observation.”
“Yeah, well—” Tandy shifted on her seat—“observe somebody else.”
“Motherhood a touchy topic?”
“Something like that.”
“Is Clayton sleeping through the night?” Joy pulled photos from a photo box and began sorting them.
“Some nights. Other nights he thinks every time the hour turns over he should wake up and announce it to the household.”
Joy nodded sympathetically. “I know. Maddie lulls us into happiness with three or four nights of full sleep and then it’s a week of nighttime fussiness.”
“Do you ever think about tearing your hair out?”
“Only around four o’clock every morning following every hard night.”
Tandy chuckled. “I hear you on that, sister.”
“I remember those long nights,” Meg said. “Jamison and I thought we’d never see a full night’s sleep again. Ever.”
“How old was Hannah when she finally slept through the night?”
Meg pouted her lips. “A year and a half.”
Tandy threw her arms on the table and plopped her head down. “I don’t think I can survive motherhood.”
“Now who’s the drama queen?”
Tandy turned her head to look Kendra in the face. “You’re not allowed to be mean until you have children of your own.”
“Then we could be waiting a while. Or forever.”
“You and Darin aren’t going to have children?” Joy ran a tape runner down a photo.
“We’re not sure.”
“Oh, Kendra, you must have children.”
“Not in this country. We’re free to be just the two of us all our lives if we so choose. Ain’t America grand?”
“But there’s nothing in the world like motherhood,” Meg protested. “I can’t imagine my life without my kids.”
Kendra shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m made to be a mom.”
“Do you have a uterus?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“What do you think you’re supposed to have to be a mom?”
“Compassion? Patience? Understanding? A hole in my head?” Kendra tapped her head.
Tandy sat back up. “You get that stuff when they put the baby in your arms.” She held up a hand and stopped Kendra’s retort. “No, I’m serious. Would you have labeled me a patient person before I gave birth? Of course not. You develop whatever you need when you figure out a little being is depending on you completely.”
Kendra tilted her head and looked at the ceiling. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But don’t you miss the things you and Clay used to do? Darin and I haven’t seen you at Heartland or Joe’s since Clayton was born.”
“I know.” Tandy shifted again. “And I’m not saying that’s easy for us. We were barely married before we got pregnant. But dancing on Friday night isn’t the entirety of our marriage.”
Kendra shook her head. “Maybe not. Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be a part. It was a big part—a regular part—before baby came along.”
Tandy shut up. No argument existed for her to combat Kendra’s words. Clay had said the same things to her last night, and both of them were right. That didn’t make it any easier, just more real.
She envied those Hollywood celebrities who jetted all over the country with their kids—and nannies—in tow. What would it be like to have a nanny? Someone to help with the laundry and the meals and the house. Or even take care of Clayton for a few hours every day so that she could focus on the business, Clay could focus on the diner, and they could focus on each other?
Not that their budget would ever allow such a thing, but the thought was entertaining.
“What are you thinking about?” Kendra pushed her thick hair out of her face. “You’ve got that smile on your face.”
“Oh, nothing.”
Kendra’s knowing look came a second before she opened her mouth. “Um hmm. I’ll bet it’s nothing.”
Tandy sighed. “Okay, since you don’t know how to let something go, I was thinking about how nice it would be if we had a nanny. Not a full-time nanny, but someone part-time. You know, to watch Clayton so I can run to the store or spend a few hours at the office or be with Clay.”
“A nanny.” Joy sat back on her stool. “That’s what we need.”
“Yeah, and what our budgets can’t afford.”
“Jenny might want to do some nanny work,” Meg offered. “She’s done an excellent job on our house and gets along great with the kids.”
“Jenny?” Tandy raised an eyebrow. “Jenny who?”
“Wow, you are out of the loop,” Kendra teased. “Meg went and got herself a housekeeper.”
“Meg did no such thing. Meg’s husband went and got himself a housekeeper.”
“You have a housekeeper?” Tandy shoved her photos away and rested her arms on the table. Propping her chin on her hand, she gave her sister a wide-eyed look. “Do tell.”
“It’s Jenny Sanders. You know her.”
“I do! I didn’t know she cleaned people’s houses.”
“Yeah, we heard she had been looking for some work along those lines and Jamison had just about had enough with cleaning, cooking, taking care of the kids, and working, so we hired her. It’s not as if I could take over the duties.”
Tandy refrained from asking why. Meg had two months of recovery behind her. When would she begin to assume her role in the house again? Or had she found a convenient way to quit?
“So, she does a good job?”
“She does a great job. I’m sure we won’t have her around forever. I know I’ll get back into the swing of things soon, but she’s a godsend right now.”
Tandy sent a silent thank-you heavenward for Meg’s intention toward the future. “Do you know how long you’ll need her?”
Meg shook her head. “There’s no way to know for sure. I’m betting a few months, maybe four. I don’t know when this leg will let me make it up and down the stairs easily enough to do the cleaning and chase the kids. We’ve started thinking about selling the place and getting a one-level house.”
Joy’s head jerked up. “You’re thinking about selling your house? Since when? You did not mention that to me.”
“I didn’t?” Meg’s forehead wrinkled. “I could have sworn I did.”
“You did not. I cannot believe you would sell that house. You’ve lived in it for ten years. The children have never known anything else!”
“They’ve also never had a mother whose leg didn’t work right.” Meg’s voice took on a steely tone. “We all have to adjust as we can.”
Joy abruptly shut her mouth. Tandy watched, but it didn’t take an Einstein to see, where Meg’s recovery was concerned, Joy wouldn’t be pushing boundaries anytime soon.
Tandy cleared her throat. “Well, whenever you no longer need her services, please let me know. Clay and I could use some help. I don’t know if we can afford her, but I’m willing to try.”
Meg nodded.
They heard clomping on the stairs and turned. Zelda’s red hair appeared a split second before her face. “Hello, girls. How’s it going up here?”
“Fine,” they chorused.
“Everything okay with Clayton?” Tandy said.
Zelda waved a hand. “Oh, he’s fine. Fell asleep on me, so I laid him down on your old bed and put pillows around him.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure. I wanted to let you know, though, that I’m headed out. There are a few garage sales over in Greenfield I wanted to check out.”
“Oh! Okay. Searching for anything in particular?”
“Not really. I like looking through everybody else’s junk, though. Never know when you might find a treasure.” Her eye took on a gleam.
Tandy smiled. The hunt for a good bargain was something all the sisters shared. “Good luck, then. And thanks again for watching Clayton.”
“Anytime.” Zelda made her way back down the stairs.
“You sure seemed friendly,” Kendra said.
“We’re supposed to be friendly, Ken. She’s our stepmother.”
Kendra reared her head back as if she’d been slapped. “I don’t need to be told that.”
“Ladies, calm down.” Joy, ever the peacemaker, cut in.
“Well, she made it sound like I’m a kid who needs to be told how to act instead of a grown woman with the right to act however I want, whenever I want, toward whoever I want.”
“Whomever,” Tandy corrected.
“No, it’s whoever. I don’t even think whomever is a word.”
Both turned to Joy, the Grammar Queen, for a decision, but Joy shook her head. “No, I will not.”
“Oh, come on,” Kendra whined.
“No. Look it up for yourselves. That way you’ll remember it next time.”
“Now who’s acting like a mother?” Tandy said.
Kendra went back to her work. “Ugh.”
Tandy let the matter go. She’d started the weekend by fighting with Clay. She didn’t want to fight with her sisters, too. What was wrong with her these days that so many conversations became fights? Maybe everybody was on edge because of Meg’s surgery. But that had been two months ago and, looking at her now, the only evidence Tandy could see was Meg’s handkerchief-covered head where long blonde hair used to be. Meg seemed fine today.