‘Well,’ Vivian said, stretching, ‘he can cook every night while you’re here if he wants to.’
Dot waved her finger. ‘Be careful what you ask for.’
Vivian thought Dot looked pretty. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her green eyes glossy and bright. What she saw in Lonnie was a mystery.
Dot leaned against the sink. ‘My mother used to say that every man has a desire to spread his seed around, and a wife’s job is to stick close to him, you know, trying to catch most of it.’
Vivian blinked. It was as if she had read her thoughts about Lonnie. ‘What?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ she said. ‘My mom has many wise sayings. About the place for women, you know, what they should or shouldn’t do. For a long time, I thought there were meetings to discuss the rules, like witches at night, gathering to go over all their potions. Then I realized her ways of teaching were quieter.’
‘Have you ever felt that you’re turning into your mother?’ Vivian asked. ‘I mean, in small ways?’
Dot nodded emphatically. ‘My mom used to say ‘hold your horses,’ and ‘get the lead out,’ and I say both of those all the time.’
‘Mine makes faces,’ Vivian said, ‘to show her approval or disapproval. She’ll lift her eyebrows, or move her mouth to the side, like this.’
‘I’ve seen you do that,’ Dot laughed. ‘I think you were better off than me. I could’ve ignored my mother if she was only making faces. I moved in with a roommate after high school and we had a huge fight. I think she just didn’t want me to go, but she gave me all kinds of crazy reasons, you know? She told me that having two grown women in a household wasn’t natural, that it would never work out.’
‘I’ve heard that,’ Vivian said.
‘It’s sad, isn’t it, that we’re raised to be suspicious of each other? I asked her why and she said something about only one hen ruling the roost. She didn’t trust other women, you know? I guess she figured they were running around too, trying to catch her man’s seed. I told her that she and I had been living together for years, so what was the difference? She said, “I said grown women.” I was only eighteen, you know.’
‘Does she still live in the same house?’
‘Yes.’ Dot looked away. ‘She’s very sick, so I don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to stay there.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Vivian wanted to say something else but Dot had moved to the door and was peering outside. ‘Was she happy about Lonnie?’ she asked instead.
‘Oh, sure,’ Dot said. ‘That’s all she ever wanted for me.’
‘Mine didn’t want me to get married,’ Vivian said. ‘She’s waiting for me to find my calling in life. My parents are both professors at a university, so education is a big deal with them.’
‘Not with my mom,’ Dot said. ‘She never mentioned college, not once. All I could think about was turning eighteen so I could get the hell out of there.’
‘It’s so important then, the freedom.’
‘Still is to me.’
‘You’re right,’ Vivian said. ‘It is. I remember that every time I speak to my mother and I feel like I’m twelve again.’
‘Want something to eat?’ Dot asked.
Vivian made a face and waved her hand.
Dot put the kettle on the stove and lit the burner.
‘You grew up with just your mother, then?’ Vivian asked.
‘Pretty much. I had a father but he left when I was ten, found another woman or got sick of us, I don’t know. At different times, my mom would give different reasons why he was gone.’
‘You never saw him again?’
‘Nope.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Vivian said.
‘Don’t be, really. I remember him a little, but we never spent time together or anything, you know? In my mind, he’s a lump on the sofa, grunting every now and then, or a door slammed late at night.’
Vivian couldn’t help but wonder if Dot had made a good choice. Lonnie was nearing thirty – they all were – but it seemed he’d never grow up.
‘I have a confession to make,’ Dot said.
Vivian looked up, a dull throb behind her eyes. Dot wore a red tank top and denim overalls cut into shorts. Although she had matched Vivian beer for beer the night before, her face was bright and rested. Vivian wished that she could look good as effortlessly as Dot seemed to. ‘What?’ she asked.
Dot sighed. ‘I hate that wallpaper in the hallway, really hate it. I know I just got here and it’s none of my business, but were you planning on keeping it?
Vivian glanced toward the hall. ‘I’m not sure I ever noticed it.’ She got up and they both walked to the hallway. After a few moments of looking, Vivian said, ‘It’s hideous.’
The wallpaper had a cream-colored background, with wide gold stripes. Every fifth stripe was actually an ornate carousel horse on a pole, suspended at varying levels along the length of both walls. The horses had leering facial expressions and the overall effect, when standing at the end of the hall and looking down, was of driving at high speed past some sort of demented carnival.
Vivian’s head was pulsing now; her throat was dry. ‘Let’s tear it down,’ she said. ‘First, I need an aspirin.’
‘I’ll make you my favorite hangover fix – Brains and Sugar,’ Dot said.
‘That doesn’t sound good,’ Vivian said.
They went back to the kitchen and Vivian laid her head on the table, her face against the cool surface. Dot rummaged around. She opened the fridge; she ran the blender. Soon, she placed a glass of something orange in front of Vivian.
‘It looks okay,’ Vivian said. She noticed that Dot had one too.
‘Bottoms up,’ Dot said.
‘I need an aspirin.’
‘It’s in there!’ she said with great cheer.
It was cold and thick and very, very sweet. Vivian finished in two long gulps.
‘Now I’ll tell you how to make it,’ Dot said. ‘Orange juice, one aspirin, one egg – that’s the brains – a quarter cup of sugar…’
‘A quarter cup!’
‘…one tablespoon of pancake mix. You know, to bind it.’ Dot paused and drank hers all at once.
Vivian’s stomach felt warm and settled.
‘Oh,’ Dot said. ‘I forgot the most important ingredient. Quarter cup of vodka.’
That would explain the warmth, Vivian thought. But she actually felt better. ‘Hey, I want to show you something,’ she said. ‘Wait here.’ She climbed up to the attic, brought down the black garment bag and spread it over the table. ‘It’s a suit.’
‘Whose is it?’ Dot asked.
‘Good question.’ She unzipped the back and pulled the garment out. Pressed and clean, the suit was navy blue with pinstripes.
‘Nice,’ Dot said.
‘Nowell says his grandmother never went up into the attic, but I found clothing in a dresser up there, clean and folded like someone just used it. And now this suit. Their grandfather’s been dead since Sherman was a teenager, so it’s definitely not his. It’s too modern.’
‘Maybe Grandma Gardiner had a late-life romance,’ Dot said. ‘She was out here by herself all those years, you know?’
‘I never thought of that.’
‘Did you ever meet her?’ Dot asked.
‘Twice,’ Vivian said.
‘What was she like?’
‘Like any old woman.’ Vivian searched through the suit, poking her fingers into the pockets. ‘She was quiet. My friend Katherine knew her.’ In the breast pocket, she felt something square and thin. ‘I guess I won’t have to ask Katherine about Grandma Gardiner’s secret lovers,’ she said after a moment.
‘Why, what’s that?’
She held out the small stack of business cards and Dot leaned over to see. The name of Nowell’s father’s repair business was embossed across the top in bold green letters and in the lower right corner: Sherman Gardiner, Partner.
‘So it was Lonnie’s dad’s suit. I wonder why he’d leave it her
e.’
Vivian felt the fabric. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s been here a long time,’ Dot said. ‘How long ago did he die?’
‘Over six years.’
They were both still leaning over the suit, staring at the business cards, fingering the smooth texture of the jacket, when a soft knock on the door startled them both. Vivian dropped the jacket and it slid onto the floor. Dot cursed and then immediately covered her mouth with her hand.
A few feet back from the screen stood a woman in a bright orange outfit, with a yellow scarf tied around her neck. Vivian quickly recognized Mrs Brodie. She looked much better than the last time Vivian had seen her. Her golden hair was perfectly styled and green, glittery eye shadow radiated above her eyes. Her lips were two stripes of moistened pink.
‘Mrs Brodie,’ Vivian said. ‘Please come in.’
‘Thank you.’ Her hand was already on the lever of the screen door. She stepped in and closed the door quietly. Her perfume was sharp and fruity. ‘Thank you, Mrs Gardiner.’
‘Please, call me Vivian.’ Remembering Katherine’s joke, she added, ‘Mrs Gardiner makes me think of my mother-in-law.’
Mrs Brodie smiled tightly. ‘It reminds me of Betty Gardiner.’
‘This is my sister-in-law,’ Vivian said. ‘Dot.’
Her eyes widened and her hand went up to her yellow scarf. ‘Lonnie’s wife?’ she asked.
Dot stepped forward. ‘Well, yes. You must be Katherine,’ Dot said.
‘This is Mrs Brodie,’ Vivian said. ‘She’s thinking of Katherine Wilton,’ she explained. ‘They haven’t met yet.’
‘Oh yes, Katherine.’ Mrs Brodie exhaled loudly. ‘Please, call me Kitty, both of you.’
‘Would you like a glass of tea?’
‘No, thank you.’ She shifted her purse, a square-shaped bag with tortoise-shell handles, to her other hand. ‘I really just wanted to stop by and apologize for the other day.’
‘That’s not…’ Vivian started to say, but Mrs Brodie waved her off.
‘I was very upset, but you didn’t need a hysterical woman passing out in your yard.’
Vivian remembered her moans, my poor baby, and the way she crumbled when she saw Vivian come out of the woods.
‘I don’t know what to say, Mrs, uh, Kitty. It’s certainly understandable. I’m so sorry, we’re all so sorry for your loss.’
Mrs Brodie’s hands gripped then released the handle of her purse. ‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘the thing is, you looked like her, like my Chanelle. And when I saw you come out of the trees, it spooked me. I thought for sure it was her, I really did, for a minute. I’ve been a little crazy lately, not sleeping well, and I guess my imagination took over. For a split second, that first second when I thought you were my Chanelle, I thought everything was a big, horrible mistake. But then it came back, the memory, and it all happened so quickly, in that split second.’ Her eyes were watery.
Vivian pulled a tissue from a box on the counter and handed it to her.
‘Thank you.’ She pressed the tissue to the edges of her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. ‘You have hair like hers, long and dark. Beautiful hair. Chanelle’s father was part Indian, but I never told her. I didn’t know how she’d feel about it. I keep remembering lots of things like that, things I didn’t tell her.’
‘If there’s anything we can do…’
Mrs Brodie nodded. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but she was a good girl, my Chanelle. All kids run around a little, don’t they? I know I did, and there’s nothing wrong with having some fun. But she was smart and so pretty. I had dreams for her, hopes and plans.’
Dot looked steadily at Mrs Brodie. ‘You must miss her very much.’
‘Yes, I do. We were very close.’ Mrs Brodie dabbed at her nose with the tissue. ‘She depended on me, asked my advice on clothes and things. It was more of a friendship, really, than a mother-daughter relationship.’ Mrs Brodie opened her purse, dropped the wadded tissue inside then closed it with a decisive snap. ‘That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll leave you alone now.’
‘Are you sure you won’t stay?’ Vivian asked. ‘Have some tea?’
‘No, thank you. I have to be somewhere.’ She rubbed her lips together, freshening her lipstick. ‘It’s nice to have some young neighbors. Not that I had anything against Mrs Gardiner, you understand. I never saw her much. But sometimes it feels lonely out here. Everybody keeps to themselves.’
‘You know Mr Stokes, don’t you?’
‘I don’t see him much either.’ Her keys jangled in her hand. ‘I’m sorry again for the trouble the other day.’
‘It wasn’t any trouble,’ Vivian said.
As Mrs Brodie turned towards the door, her gaze fell on the blue suit where it lay on the floor. She walked over and picked it up, her hands lingering as she draped it over the garment bag. ‘Good-bye for now.’
The fruity smell trailed after her, persisted in the yellow kitchen until it turned acrid in the warm air. They watched as she walked down the driveway to her car. Her clothing, almost the same bright orange as the vests worn by the road crew, seemed even more vivid in the sunlight.
Vivian had just finished telling Dot everything she knew about Mrs Brodie when they heard another car pull up the driveway. ‘I can’t believe it. No one comes to visit us for weeks, and now that you’re here, everyone comes.’
Dot peered around her shoulder. ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Katherine.’ Vivian met her on the porch. ‘What are you doing out here?’
Katherine carried a Tupperware container and her bracelets bounced loudly against it as she walked. ‘Just came to bring you some cookies. You know me, Little Miss Homemaker.’
‘They’re homemade?’
‘Sure they are. Some of the mothers brought them for a little show the kids had at the school. There were so many left over, and I sure don’t want them at my house. Being around you has made me decide to finally go on a diet. Believe me, it’s long overdue.’
They stepped into the kitchen and Vivian introduced Dot.
‘I was just telling Vivian that her tiny figure has depressed me, and here you are, just as thin as her!’
‘Great to meet you,’ Dot said.
‘I wanted to see if I could take you both into town for lunch.’
‘Guess who was just here?’ Vivian said.
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Brodie.’
‘That’s not what I thought you’d say.’ Katherine’s eyes gleamed.
‘Do you know her, Katherine?’ Dot asked.
‘Didn’t Vivian tell you? All of us in this town went to the same high school.’ She laughed. ‘Lots of people knew Kitty. She was very popular.’
‘She said she was sorry for coming over the other day,’ Vivian said. ‘She thought she made a scene.’
‘Did she?’
Vivian looked at Katherine, surprised by her sharp tone. ‘It’s understandable, don’t you think?’
Katherine nodded half-heartedly.
‘You don’t like her much, do you?’ Vivian asked.
‘No. But I should be more considerate of her during this time. Sorry.’
‘Did Mrs Gardiner ever say anything about her?’ Vivian asked. ‘Mrs Brodie said she never saw her.’
‘Not that I remember.’
‘Did she have many friends in the community? Mrs Gardiner, I mean.’
‘I think so,’ Katherine said. ‘She attended the Methodist church in town, and she knew some families down there. I think she knew Jesper Stokes, before he died of course.’
‘She did?’ Vivian said.
‘They were neighbors a long time. Way back when, Abe Stokes’s grandfather, Manus…’
‘Manus?’ Dot said.
Katherine nodded. ‘Manus used to hunt with Betty’s husband. So Betty knew Jesper Stokes when he was young, and the current Mr Stokes too.’ She looked over. ‘Vivian’s friend.’
Vivian tilted her head in warning.
‘Didn’t Mrs Gardiner tell you that Sherman used to visit often?’
‘At least three or four times a year,’ Katherine said. ‘Sometimes more in the summer.’
‘He left some clothing here,’ Vivian said. ‘That suit was his.’
Katherine peered over, raising her eyebrows. ‘Nice.’
‘Where would he wear it around here?’ Vivian asked.
‘Plenty of places,’ she said. ‘To church, for one. There are two very good restaurants, Cecil Clement’s Italian place and a steak and seafood over in the next town. And they put on formal dances at the community center. Last fall, Max and I finally went to one. It had the feel of a high school reunion, but we had a good time. You wouldn’t know by looking at him, but Max can really dance.’
Vivian laughed. ‘Nowell tries hard, but he always hunches over, like tall people do sometimes.’
‘Lonnie doesn’t,’ Dot said. ‘He sticks his head right in the air and looks everyone over. He loves being in the middle of everything, you know. He wouldn’t like it so much if he were my size, and felt like everyone was going to squash you.’
‘It wasn’t very crowded at the community center,’ Katherine said, ‘so we didn’t have to worry about that.’
‘Do they have a dance every fall?’ Vivian asked.
‘A couple of times a year. Usually it’s put on by churches or different clubs.’
‘Did Mrs Gardiner ever go to one of the dances?’
‘Goodness, no! I can’t even imagine that.’
‘But you think Sherman went?’
Katherine held up her hand in protest, her bracelets clinking together. ‘I didn’t say that. I said that someone could dress up to go to one of those things. Why are you asking me all these questions about Sherman?’
‘I don’t know,’ Vivian said. ‘I guess when you’re going through people’s things, you get curious. You know, I never got to meet him.’
Katherine crossed her arms. ‘You should have asked Kitty Brodie about Sherman.’
‘What do you mean?’ Vivian asked.
‘I heard that Sherman helped Kitty out with things around her house now and then, repairs and what-not, her being on her own and everything.’
‘Really?’
‘Just being neighborly, I guess. Lord knows she couldn’t ask that Mr Stokes for anything. He’s got a high horse, that one, and I don’t think he cares much for Kitty.’
The Qualities of Wood Page 14