Savannah by the Sea

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  “That is absolutely true.”The truth that Duke chewing right through that netting wouldn’t take more than ten minutes caused me to downright laugh hysterically.

  We walked inside. I looked back,wondering if the car would even survive what was capable of transpiring inside it while we dined on biscuits and gravy. Oh well. We’d know soon enough.

  My cell phone rang three times over lunch. Just to let me know I had e-mails.

  “I will throw that in the trash,” my mother offered. Loudly.

  Dad concurred,“Savannah, really .We want this to be a peaceful vacation.”

  I eyed them both, wondering why nothing had been said to Paige about her ringing cell phone.

  The focus was eventually removed from me, because right in the middle of Uncle Hershel’s breakfast and Amber’s egg-yolk omelet, the request for which caused the waiter’s eyebrows to rise, my mother’s scream came loud and furious. “He’s got my baby in his mouth!”

  That Pink Toes had become her baby in no less than a week was proof of Mother’s ability to bond easily. It had taken me years to break free of a little of that Super Glue bonding, but I was glad to realize in that moment that she had shifted her attentions to another subject.

  Vicky took off out of that Cracker Barrel quicker than Paige could inhale her last bite of hash-brown casserole. Amber screamed and followed. Dad paid the bill. I refused to leave without grabbing a pecan log, and Paige stuffed the rest of her biscuits in her purse. By the time we got to the car, Duke was licking Magnolia’s head with a rather sinister expression. I didn’t think he had murder in him, but one had to wonder. Vicky might just have saved her little munchkin. Or even sicker still, Duke might have fallen in love with a Lilliputian.

  Nah.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

  Happy The hacking sound came from the front seat.

  “What in the world is that sound?” Amber asked me.

  I slammed my book shut.“I have no idea.”Then I saw it. The little white fluff of fur was leaning over the edge of her basket in the first throes of heaving. I knew what this was. Duke had done it a thousand times. Usually after a gorging of beans and weenies. Whatever just went down was about to come back up.

  So maybe we had more than one way to be unhappy.

  “Jake!” Mother screamed. “Stop the car! Stop the car! Magnolia’s about to be—”

  There wasn’t enough time for her to even finish her sentence. Miss Magnolia got sicker than a dog.And the evidence was cascading down on Vicky’s lovely “car riding” outfit.

  Dad swerved to the side of the road.“Ooh Lord, have mercy. That stinks.”

  No sooner had he got the car pulled over than Mother was opening the door, making some pretty good gagging sounds herself. All while holding the little basket containing the sick puppy out the door.

  The smell was so putrid the three of us in the backseat decided getting out into fresh air might not be such a bad idea. Amazing that something so small could produce something so lethal.

  “Paige, take her,” Mother said, trying to hand the basket to Paige. Paige reluctantly obliged because of her respect for her elders, all while holding her nose.

  “Savannah, I’ve got some wet wipes in my makeup bag in the back.”

  I walked around to the back of the car, and Duke came billowing out, sucking half of the air from the atmosphere. The poor thing must have been holding his breath ever since we got out of the car.

  “Now you know how we feel,” I whispered to him as he fell over in the grass, playing dead.“You should have gotten rid of her while you had the chance.”

  As Dad was helping to clean up Mother, we heard the gagging sound again. “Oh no, you don’t, Pink Toes,” Paige said, setting the basket on the ground.

  “Savannah, get Magnolia out of the basket and hold her while she throws up,” Mother hollered.

  “Do what?”

  “You heard me.”

  Maggy gagged again. I gagged in response.

  “For Pete’s sake, Savannah, help her!”

  “We aren’t talking dying roadside victim here. We are talking carsick rodent. Potent rodent at that,” I added, trying to hold my breath. I was certain the thing could take care of herself, but I gingerly picked her up by her heaving sides and held her over the grass. I turned my head away from the horrors of the odors. No good. I was downwind. And every aroma Pink Toes offered to the environment, the environment offered back to me.

  After it finished its regurgitating, the thing went to shaking and quaking.

  “Come here, my little sweetie pie,” Mother said after Dad had done all he could. “Let Mommy wipe your little mouthywouffy. ” She cooed and gagged at the same time while wiping the rat’s mouth off with a wet wipe as if it were a toddler.

  “It’s all my FAAUUULT!”The wail came loud and shrill.

  Paige and I jerked to the heap of seersucker and honey-brown hair on the side of the road.

  Paige nudged me. “If we had a video camera, we’d have just won a hundred thousand dollars.”

  Mother waddled toward Amber with Maggy and her basket hooked over one arm.

  “I’m BAAAD luck! I mean, look at us. We’re sitting by the side of the road.Your precious little princess can’t keep her lunch down.”

  How she saw precious and princess in that was beyond me.

  “And your outfit is ruined. And here I am, a beauty queen, sitting by the side of the ROOOAAAD!”

  Paige and I leaned against the car. Had they offered a million-dollar prize, we would have taken that home too.

  Mother set Maggy down gingerly and pulled out another baby wipe. She lifted Amber’s chin. Paige and I had to turn away. Even beauty queens could not cry pretty!

  “Sweet baby girl.You don’t worry about Miss Victoria’s dress. We will go shopping and buy us both new dresses. We are going to pamper ourselves all week long, because this is all about making you feel better and taking your mind off your heartache.”

  “Think we could get in on the clothes buying?” Paige whispered.

  “Humph. We don’t need them or their money. We are going to take care of ourselves. Because we are grown women with real jobs and real lives.”

  “We’re on vacation with your parents.”

  “You’re on vacation with my parents. I’m researching a story.”

  “Okay, Sherlock. Tell yourself what you will, but sister ain’t here for no story. Sister’s here because she’s getting replaced by a dog and a beauty queen.”

  “You are ridiculous.”

  “You are—”

  Fortunately Dad interrupted her and rounded all of us back to the interior. Maggy got a case of the shakes that would have made a salsa dancer look docile.

  Amber pulled a bottle from her purse and sprayed the air in front of her nose.

  “What did you just spray?” I asked the companion sitting next to me.

  “It’s Vera Wang.” Amber smiled.

  “Great! Now we get to enjoy the rest of the trip soaking up the aroma of flowers and puke.” I couldn’t have described this vacation better myself.

  “Watch out for that buzzard!” Mother screamed as the little black crow flew from the side of the road. And as a man true to his word, she left Jake Phillips no option.

  Right there in the middle of I-10, he pulled the car over, placed it in park, opened the door, and got out. He walked around to Mother’s side of the car and opened the door for her. “Your turn.”

  She laughed that surely-you-jest kind of half laugh and said, “Jake, don’t be silly. Get back in the car.”

  “No, Victoria. I told you that if you screamed again, I was going to let you drive. You screamed. You drive.”

  “Jake, I’m not driving.” Her face flushed with momentary embarrassment, a rather odd occasion. I studied it carefully.“Now, get back over there.” She reached for the door. He didn’t budge.

  Amber b
egan wringing the handles of her Louis Vuitton. Paige, Duke, and I were enjoying the episode. I wouldn’t have minded some popcorn.

  “Victoria, I said you are driving. Now, either get out and walk around, or climb over.”

  He removed the quivering basket from her hand. At least the man was kind enough to hold her rancid dog. I thought the trade showcased humanity in its finest form.

  She looked at him incredulously. He stared at her, expressionless. In a few moments she flipped the skirt of her dress around, slid her heels out of the car, and stood at the car door as he climbed into her seat. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him one more time,waiting to make sure he wasn’t going to bust out in hysterics. He simply closed the door. She came around to the driver’s side and climbed in. And proceeded to take her time hooking her seat belt, finding a station on the radio, and trying to convince each one of us this was all her idea. Had we not just witnessed the fiasco, we might have actually bought the act. At least we were able to enjoy the whole scenario.

  Off we went. Jake leaning back in his seat, determined not to arrive at his vacation stressed. Duke growling ceaselessly, not even attempting to hide his sense of betrayal, ready to pounce on the puking princess on his master’s lap. Mother tried to maintain her composure. The woman would need a good three days before she unwound from this event. She’d have plenty of company. The only person who wouldn’t need therapy would be the man who was holding a doggy basket on his lap. He was already sleeping.

  The sniffles started again. “It’s been such a trying time in my life.”

  “And trying times need to be dealt with in much more pleasant circumstances than these,” Paige interjected as she rolled down the window.“Here. I bet you could use some fresh air.” She grabbed Amber’s head and directed it toward the window.

  “Ever gotten a spanking in the car?” I called out, searching for a new topic.

  Amber jerked her head inside and tried to reconstruct her hair and wipe her nose at the same time. “Oh no. My parents didn’t believe in spanking.” Who did that surprise? The woman was named Amber Topaz. How could you spank that?

  “Mine either,” Paige offered. I didn’t believe her for a second. “They gave me whuppin’s.” Now, that was more like it.

  Dad woke up unannounced and entered the conversation uninvited.“Savannah Phillips, neither you nor Thomas got nearly the spankings you should have gotten.” He chuckled.

  Amber gasped. “Miss Victoria, you believe in corporal punishment?”

  Mother still wasn’t in the greatest moods for talking, so she simply said,“Uh-huh.”

  I couldn’t let her get away with that.

  “Uh-huh? She doesn’t just believe in corporal punishment, Amber. She believes spanking should be administered with a flyswatter.” Amber’s face contorted in horror.“And she spanks with one swat per syllable. ‘You-will-li-sten-to-me-when-I-talk-to-you,’” I mimicked in my best Vicky, all while swatting the air with my hand.

  Paige interjected,“And heaven help those whose mothers are so deeply Southern that words that should be one syllable turn into two. ‘You-a-re-go-ing-to-re-gret-th-is . . .’ Those beatings just go on forever.”That one even made Mother laugh. But she refused to take her eyes off of the road.

  “The worst is when we were on road trips like this, and Dad would be driving, and Thomas and I would get into it, and he would try to reach behind his seat to get us. We’d get as close to the car doors as we could to try to get out of the line of fire.”

  Dad laughed.“So I’d just stop the car and take you beside the road and give you a whipping.”

  “I just can’t imagine any parents whipping their children,” Amber said.

  I pointed to the front seat. “Well, now you don’t have to imagine it. You have two actual participants sitting right in front of you.”

  Something forced Amber to look out the window. Mother had finally gotten off of the interstate and pulled up to a traffic light. “Ooh, Miss Victoria, you just technically ran that red light.”

  “No, I didn’t. The light’s still red, and I’m sitting here perfectly stopped.”

  “Well, actually, if your front wheels have crossed the large white lines at the end of this lane, then technically you have run a red light. You could get a ticket for that.”

  Paige looked up from her phone, which she was studying as if it would tell her who else to call about her unlocked door. “How do you know that?”

  “Oh, I spent eight hours taking a defensive driving class.”

  Paige gloated, batting her short eyelashes.“What? The beauty queen couldn’t get out of a ticket?”

  “Actually, the ‘beauty queen’s”—Amber batted back in mock appreciation—“platform at the Miss United States of America pageant was the benefits of defensive driving training in an era of reckless and self-centered vehicle operatives.” Then that bottom lip began to quiver. “So, not only did I not win, but I spent”— and there she went, wailing the rest of her sentence—“eight hours with a bunch of HOOODLUUUMMS!”

  “Hey, don’t be so quick to judge,” I said.“I took that course, and I’m not a hoodlum.”

  Dad turned to look at me and raised his right eyebrow. Paige wrapped her arm around Amber, doing her best to offer comfort. “It’s okay. Look at all you’ve learned.”

  Amber brought her wails down to managed heaves. “Ooh, Miss Victoria, when you make a turn, you need to stay in the inside lane.” She dabbed her eyes with tissue. Paige and I really could learn a lot from her. “Unless there are two turning lanes, then you stay in the lane you are in.”

  I noticed that little muscle in Mother’s jaw begin to pulse. And all would have been fine had Mother not gotten into the turning lane to go to Wal-Mart a tad too soon for Miss Defensive Driver of America.

  “Uh, Miss Victoria, not to, uh, be a nuisance or anything, but you really aren’t supposed to get into this lane until you’re at your turning destination. Turning lanes aren’t for our driving pleasure; they’re for turning.”

  Mother made a turn of her own. She turned to look at Amber, who sat wide-eyed and amazingly unmascara-clotted. Fortunately for Amber was that the woman wasn’t armed with a fly-swatter. “Amber, if you mention my driving one more time, you can drive the rest of the way.”

  “Ooh. Trouble in paradise,” I mouthed to Paige, who had peered behind Amber’s shoulders.

  With that, Miss Victoria squealed into a parking place, got out, and headed into Wal-Mart all by herself. Dad remained seated, smiling with extreme satisfaction.

  Amber looked at the three remaining humans in the car, whose eyes were locked on her. Her lip began to quiver one more time.

  “Ah! No, you don’t, missy,” Paige said, grabbing her arm. “Get out of the car, and we’ll go buy you some ice cream. I’ll even let you get a bottled water.”And with that Paige and Amber followed Miss Victoria into the land of every need supplied.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  You really thought this would be a good idea?” I asked the man in the front seat, holding the quaking mutt.

  He leaned his head back. “It became rather peaceful after I made your mother drive.”

  “Until our personal driver’s handbook decided to entertain.”

  “I found it rather informative.”

  “You gloated.”

  “I deserved to. After twenty-five years of that woman trying to tell me how to drive, I found those five minutes rather enjoyable.”

  “How does she think you get anywhere without her?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You would think she would have eventually quit commenting.”

  “You’d think.”

  “Ever wanted to slap her?” I knew that would make him turn around.

  “No, just you,” he said with a wink.

  I slapped him on his shoulder. That caused the pink-bowed princess to start a low moaning sound. Duke looked over my shoulder and growled at her. She whimpered.“That dog is pitiful.”

&nbs
p; Dad rubbed the top of her head, and she pushed it into his hands.“She’s a sweet little thing. She just doesn’t like road trips.”

  That officially made two of us.

  Vicky never ventured into Wal-Mart except for our annual trip to Seaside. She’s a Target kind of girl. I had come to discover, however, that the store was by far one of the greatest inventions of a generation. It had been my best friend since my college years. It had all the necessities of life: food, makeup, suntan lotion, CDs, and books. And it was always the first pit stop right after we turned off Interstate 10 to Highway 331.We’d backtrack north for a mile and hit the Super Wal-Mart before trekking the last thirty miles to Seaside.

  “Has mother spent the night in a Target lately?” I asked Dad with a snicker.

  He laughed that knowing laugh.“No. I think the last venture about did her in for sleepovers in lonely, dark places.” He referred to the time Mother found out a new Sunbeam iron was about to hit the shelves. She watched the advertisements for a week.

  “Did she ever actually get the iron?”

  “She thinks irons are cursed.”

  “So is that why all of our clothes go to the dry cleaners?” I was finally figuring it all out.

  “That’s why your underwear has been starched all these years, baby girl.”

  This iron Mother wanted was “magical” for its time. It turned itself off, had a retractable cord, and came with purple or blue accents. Your choice. She wanted to be the first in line, as if the entire female population of Savannah was going to be spread out across Target’s entrance in sleeping bags for an appliance and thus confirm they really were destined for a destitute life of housekeeping. Every other woman in Savannah was biting at the bit for such a declaration.

  And Vicky agreed. So one night she hid in the store until it closed.

  “Did you ever tell her that Don knew he locked her inside that evening?”

  He laughed again.“No. He said she had pestered him all week about what day the iron was actually coming. So when he saw her Via Spigas sticking out from the zippered front of the tent in the camping section, he thought he’d let her enjoy her evening.”