Her Sister's Shoes

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Her Sister's Shoes Page 5

by Ashley Farley


  “Where’s the birthday girl?” Lovie asked her grandsons.

  “She hasn’t come down yet.” Older than his twin by ten minutes, Cooper was quicker to respond to a question, the first to do many things, actually. He thrived on being in control, while Sean seemed content to let his brother take the lead.

  Sam leaned over and whispered in her mom’s ear. “The princess would never miss an opportunity to make a grand entrance.”

  “Oh hush you, Sammie.” Lovie swatted her daughter with her handbag.

  Sam reached over and removed two plastic curlers dangling from Lovie’s hair just above her collar. She’d never known her mother to let her hair grow so long.

  Two Labrador retrievers, one yellow and one black, Oscar and Felix, bounded over for attention, tongues licking and tails wagging. Cooper turned to his brother. “Help me lock these beasts in their kennel before they slobber all over everyone’s clothes.”

  The twins dragged the dogs off, and returned a minute later.

  “We caught a mess of flounder for you today, Aunt Sam,” Cooper said.

  Sam winked. “Big ones, I hope?”

  “Yep.” Sean spread his arms wide. “Over the legal limit by a mile. They’re cleaned and waiting in the downstairs refrigerator. We’ll bring them to you tomorrow if you want.”

  “We should be ready for them by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll take whatever you catch, ” Sam said. “You can count on the going rate, same as always. I’ll pay a premium if you can bring me a bushel of those jumbo Jimmys like you caught last summer.”

  Locking eyes, the twins said in unison, “Our secret hole.”

  “We can set our traps first thing in the morning,” Cooper said. With any luck, we’ll have a mess of crabs by late afternoon. We’re saving our money to buy a car.”

  “We’ve got our eye on an old Land Cruiser like the one Pops used to drive,” Sean added with a grin that revealed perfectly straight, post-braces teeth.

  Cooper puffed up. “Early ’90s model, fully restored. Old Oscar would be proud.”

  “That sounds cool,” Jamie said. “I might even consider riding with y’all … but only if Cooper drives.” Everyone laughed.

  They heard the voices of other guests arriving down the driveway. Cooper held out his hand to Bitsy. “Carlotta is waiting for you in the kitchen with a big plate of chicken nuggets and a stack of Disney movies.”

  Bitsy looked at her mother uncertainly. “But I don’t want to miss the cake.”

  “You won’t,” Cooper said. “Carlotta is in charge of the cake. You can help her light the candles.”

  Faith kissed her daughter’s head. “You’d be bored down here with all the grown-ups, anyway.”

  Sean turned to Jamie. “What say we go inside and play a little Xbox? Cooper just bought the new edition of MLB.”

  “That’s the only kind of baseball I can play anymore,” Jamie mumbled.

  Cooper and Bitsy entered the house through the side door of the garage while Sean wheeled Jamie to the terrace. Sam pretended not to notice when Sean stopped at the bar and discreetly removed two icy Bud Lights from the cooler. He dumped the cans into Jamie’s lap, spun the wheelchair around, and disappeared through the french doors to the game room.

  Sam didn’t approve of underage drinking, anymore than she approved of the twenty-one-year-old drinking age. In her view, if our government trusted a young man to vote, be responsible for his own health care, and defend our country at war, why shouldn’t we trust him enough to drink a beer? If all went as planned, Jamie would be off to college soon, where he’d undoubtedly be exposed to plenty of alcohol. Who better for him to experiment with than the cousins he loved and trusted?

  Sam and Faith guided their mother toward the bar. While standing in line for a drink, Sam noticed her mother’s blouse was inside out and drew Faith’s attention to it.

  Faith’s eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on the tag. “That’s nothing. You should’ve seen the first outfit she was wearing when I went to pick her up.” She held her finger to her lips, and they stepped back so Lovie couldn’t hear them. “I’m really worried about Mama. Her house is a disaster, with dirty plates in the sink and clothes thrown all over the place. She has three alarm clocks on her bedside table with little reminder notes stuck to them.”

  Sam sighed. “I guess Jackie was right. Something weird is going on with her. I’ve been too wrapped up in Jamie’s recovery and the renovations at the market …”

  “At least you have a legitimate excuse. I realize now that I’ve been neglecting her.”

  “Not on purpose,” Sam said. “We are used to seeing her every day at work. Once the renovations started, we failed to reach out to her because it wasn’t our habit.”

  “However lame that excuse is, it’s the truth,” Faith said.

  Once the bartender served them their drinks—a glass of Pinot Grigio for the sisters and tonic water straight up with a lime for Mom—Sam and Faith took Lovie inside to straighten out her blouse.

  When Faith went upstairs to check on Bitsy and Sam was waiting for Lovie to finish in the powder room, Bill appeared.

  “Are you stalking me?” Sam asked.

  He chuckled. “I guess I am, if you want to put it that way. I was hoping for the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am about today.”

  Sam nearly choked on her wine. “Cheaters are never sorry for their actions. They’re only sorry they got caught.”

  “Ouch. That hurt. But I guess I deserve it. I promise I’ll tell her tonight after the party.”

  Sam struggled to keep her voice down. “In case you haven’t noticed, Jackie has worked damn hard on planning this party. Her memories from tonight should not include her husband asking her for a divorce.”

  He hesitated, then said, “I guess it won’t hurt to wait until the morning.”

  Sam and Faith stationed themselves with their mother along the edge of the dance floor. When the boys made their obligatory appearance, undoubtedly prompted by Bill, Sam took the opportunity to dance with each of the twins while Jamie gobbled down a loaded plate of food, the most appetite she had seen from him in months. Afterward, the three boys greeted several adults before snatching another beer from the cooler and disappearing back inside their man cave.

  The band had left the stage for their first break when Curtis stumbled into the party. Sam caught up with him at the food table. “Faith volunteered your services at the market tomorrow. I hope that works for you?”

  He stuffed a whole ham biscuit into his mouth at once. “Volunteer, hell. I expect to get paid,” he said with a mouthful of food.

  “Maybe ‘volunteer’ was the wrong choice of words. Of course I’m going to pay you, Curtis. But only what you’re worth.”

  He stopped chewing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you better take it easy on the booze tonight. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done. I’m not going to pay you if you’re hungover.”

  “Don’t worry, Sexy Sammie. You can always count on me. Call me anytime, day or night.” He pinched her cheek, his fingers lingering long enough to make her uncomfortable.

  She smacked his hand away. “Just don’t be late.” Sam turned her back on him, anxious to escape.

  She headed across the dance floor toward Jackie, who was surrounded by a group of younger women Sam had never seen. She waited off to the side while the group chatted about summer vacation plans. When the band returned to the stage and launched into a repertoire of Motown from the early seventies, Sam grabbed the birthday girl by the hand and led her out to the middle of the dance floor, where they carried on like they were little girls again, bouncing on beds and singing into hairbrushes.

  It was close to ten o’clock by the time Carlotta, Bitsy, and the boys wheeled a gigantic round cake onto the dance floor. After the crowd finished singing “Happy Birthday,” it took Jackie several tries to blow out the blaze of candles.

  Sam was helping cut the cake when Carlotta leaned o
ver and whispered, “I have some bad news I need to tell Miss Jacqueline, but I’m not sure how to do it.”

  Sam set down the knife. “What sort of bad news, Carlotta?”

  “I’m handing in my notice.”

  Dread settled over Sam like humidity on a sweltering summer day. “My sister will be lost without you. I’m sure if it’s more money you need or less hours …”

  Carlotta’s dark eyes opened wide. “Oh no, Miss Sam. It’s nothing like that. My sister has breast cancer, a bad case of it according to the doctors. I’m moving to Florida to help out with her children while she goes through her treatments.”

  “Oh, Carlotta, I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Pray?” she said.

  “That goes without saying,” Sam replied.

  Sam would also be praying for Jackie tomorrow when both her husband and her right-hand woman dropped atomic bombs on her at once. Jackie would survive the divorce, but no way could she keep her life together without Carlotta.

  Sam handed Carlotta a piece of cake. “You know my sister better than anyone. The most important thing in delivering bad news is picking the right time. Who knows, she might surprise you.”

  “I hope so. Miss Jacqueline always frets over the small stuff, but never breaks a sweat over the things that really matter.”

  Sam tried to suppress her surprise. All these years, her sister had fooled Carlotta. Jackie never broke a sweat over the big things because she held her emotions in until she exploded.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam was dancing up front with the band when Faith approached, flustered and out of breath. “I can’t find Mama anywhere.”

  “What do you mean you can’t find her?”

  “After she finished eating her cake, she went inside to use the powder room but she never came back. I’ve searched the house. She’s nowhere to be found.”

  Sam climbed onto a nearby chair and scanned the crowd. “I don’t see her anywhere.” She hopped down. “Round up the kids and get them to help you look out here, down the driveway and on the dock, while I go search the house again.”

  “Jackie’s gonna freak out.”

  “That’s why we’re not going to tell her. Don’t worry. I’m sure Mom just crawled into an empty bed and is taking a nap,” Sam called over her shoulder as she headed inside.

  Sam started on the ground floor and made her way up, looking under beds and in closets. No one had seen her. Not Carlotta, who was cleaning up the kitchen, or Bill, who was in his study talking softly into his cell phone. While checking the bedrooms on the third floor, she noticed light streaming from under the attic door. She opened the door and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. Someone, presumably Lovie, had ransacked Jackie’s perfectly organized attic. Ripped-open cardboard boxes and brown packing paper littered the floor. An artificial tree lay toppled on its side, and one of the hurricane lanterns had fallen off a shelf, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. At the far end of the attic, Lovie was digging through an old steamer trunk, tossing out items left and right—a black feather boa, a pair of red satin heels, and a black beaded evening bag.

  Faith arrived on the scene. “What’s she doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam whispered. “She looks like a starving homeless woman digging through a dumpster for a leftover doughnut.”

  Sam and Faith tiptoed across the wooden floor and eased up beside the trunk, careful not to startle their mother. “What are you doing up here, Mom?” Sam asked.

  Lovie sat back on her knees. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find something.” She tossed a brimmed sun hat at Sam like a Frisbee, then returned her attention to the trunk.

  Sam caught the hat and set it down on top of the battered dresser beside her. “We can see that, Mom. But what, exactly, are you looking for?”

  Lovie’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m not sure.”

  Sam took her mother’s arm, gently helped her up, and guided her over to an old wing chair. “Do you know where you are, Mom?”

  “Of course,” Lovie said, with a blank expression on her face. She reached into her pocket and removed an antique key attached to a silver chain.

  “What does the key fit, Mama?” Faith asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Over their mother’s head, Sam and Faith exchanged a look of concern. “Just sit there and rest a minute,” Faith said, rubbing her mother’s back.

  Lovie took several deep breaths, then tried to get up out of the chair.

  Sam pushed her back down. “Not so fast. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To find my pocketbook. I need my car keys.”

  Sam spotted Lovie’s silver quilted bag on the floor next to the trunk. “Here’s your bag, Mom. But your car is not here. Faith drove you to the party, and I’m taking you home.”

  Lovie knitted her brows in confusion. “What party?”

  Sam cut her eyes at Faith. “Jackie’s birthday party. But it’s almost over now. Time to go home.”

  Sam and Faith each took one of their mother’s arms, and escorted her down the stairs and outside. Lovie shuffled, as though her feet were encased in concrete blocks, all the way down the driveway. Curtis had parked his motorcycle behind their cars, blocking them in. They settled Lovie on the wooden bench under the magnolia tree beside the mailbox.

  Sam was headed back to find Curtis when he stumbled up with the children on his heels.

  Jamie wheeled up beside his mother. “Where’d you find her?” he asked, his cheeks rosy and his words slightly slurred. He’d obviously had more than a couple of beers.

  “I’ll explain later. Talk to her while we decide what to do.” Sam pulled Faith and Curtis aside.

  “What’s wrong with your mama?” Curtis asked. “Has she finally gone and lost her mind?”

  “Shut up, Curtis.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious.”

  “Do you want me to go find the high and mighty Doctor Bill?” Curtis asked.

  “No. There’s no sense in ruining Jackie’s party. I’ll call Bill from the hospital.” Sam turned to Faith. “I need to get Jamie settled in at home. Why don’t I meet you and Mom at the emergency room?”

  “What about Bitsy? I can’t let her ride home on the back of the motorcycle with him.” Faith aimed her thumb at her husband, whose head was bobbing back and forth as he tried to follow their conversation.

  “You have a point.” Sam grabbed Curtis by the elbow. “Come on. I’ll take you and Bitsy out to your house, then drop Jamie at home.”

  “Hell, nah. I’m not leaving my bike here.” He jerked his arm away and stumbled off toward his motorcycle.

  Sam waited for Faith to go after him. When she didn’t, Sam said, “You’re not seriously going to let him drive in that condition, are you?”

  Tears glistened in Faith’s eyes. “I can’t stop him.”

  “Don’t worry.” Sam pulled a wadded-up cocktail napkin out of her pocket and handed it to her sister. “I’ll follow behind him to make sure he gets home.”

  Faith dabbed at her tears. “I don’t want Bitsy to be afraid. Will you please make sure she gets her pajamas on and brushes her teeth?”

  “Of course.” Placing her hand on Faith’s back, Sam urged her sister toward her truck. “But you need to get Mom to the hospital. She’s acting so strange. What if she’s had a stroke? Every second counts. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  Six

  Faith

  Sam headed south on Creekside Drive while Faith drove north toward town. She tried not to think about her husband. She didn’t care if Curtis bashed his own stupid brain in as long as he didn’t hurt anyone else. She envisioned Bitsy kneeling on the pavement beside Curtis’s mangled body, knowing Bitsy would never get over the trauma of seeing her daddy killed right before her eyes.

  Next to her in the passenger seat, Lovie stared out of the truck window into the dark night. If only Faith knew what was going on inside
her mother’s scrambled mind.

  “Did you get a piece of cake at the party, Mama?” Faith asked.

  Lovie thought about it for a minute before answering, “I suppose so. It was chocolate, wasn’t it?”

  “No, carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Jackie’s favorite. She had it shipped down from Confections, her favorite bakery in Charleston.”

  “I remember now,” Lovie said, but Faith was sure she didn’t.

  “Your grandchildren were all there. Can you name them?”

  “What kind of silly question is that? Of course I can—Jamie, Cooper, Sean, and Bitsy.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Where’s your father? Did we leave him at the party?”

  Faith’s skin prickled with fear. How do I tell my mother her husband has been dead for more than five years?

  Faith crossed her fingers. “We’ll meet up with him later, Mama.” In heaven.

  Mother and daughter rode on for the next few miles in silence, Faith’s concern growing with each mile. Her daddy’s painful battle with pancreatic cancer had at least been short. She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost her mother. Lovie was Faith’s rock. All her life, her mother had cleaned up after Faith when she’d made mistakes and encouraged her to try things she wasn’t brave enough to attempt on her own. Like going out for cheerleading her junior year in high school. Without an ounce of athleticism in her body, Faith hadn’t made the squad, but knowing she’d tried something new, and survived, gave her the courage she needed to join the yearbook staff. As her problems with Curtis worsened, she needed Lovie, her rock, more than ever—not this emotionless zombie sitting next to her.

  “Where are you going?” Lovie asked when Faith made a left-hand turn onto Main Street instead of going straight. “Aren’t you taking me home?”

  Surprised to hear the bossiness back in her voice, Faith glanced over at her mother. She saw that Lovie’s eyes once again sparkled with life.

  “Do you remember where we’ve been?” Faith asked.

  “What do you mean, do I remember where we’ve been? We’ve been at Jackie’s birthday party.”

 

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