The woman came back on the line. “I’m sorry. Miss Willa’s having a bit of a spell. I’m her home-care nurse, Monique. May I have her call you back?”
“Actually, I was hoping to stop by for a visit sometime this week if she’s feeling up to it. Wednesday afternoon would fit my work schedule.”
“Just a minute.” She heard a pause and more rustling. “Wednesday afternoon is fine. Miss Willa is usually up from her nap around three.”
“Three it is, then. Please tell her I’m looking forward to seeing her.”
Nell fretted over what to take an elderly woman recovering from a life-threatening bout of pneumonia. Remembering how much Miss Willa once loved to work in the garden, she decided on flowers. She purchased a spring bouquet from Sweetgrass Flowers in Mount Pleasant and arranged them in a cylinder vase along with fresh greenery she cut from her yard. She left her house at two o’clock on Wednesday afternoon, allowing extra time in case of traffic. She arrived downtown in a record twenty minutes. To kill time, she cruised the neighborhood streets, remembering afternoons with Lady spent riding their bikes to their friends’ houses. Their friends. Hers and Lady’s. Their friends had not rejected her. Nell had shut them out of her life after the snowy night in 1981.
She was on Rutledge Avenue, heading back toward the seawall, when she noticed a tiny two-story salmon-colored house for sale. A handsome man wearing a blue sport coat and gray slacks stood beside the Realtor’s sign, shifting from one foot to the other and casting frequent glances at his watch. She spotted a brochure box attached to the sign, pulled alongside the curb in front of the house, and got out.
She smiled at the man and said, “Excuse me,” as she removed an informational flyer from the box.
“It’s a great house,” the man said. “Not a lot of room, as you can see, but it’s priced accordingly, which makes it attractive if you’re looking for something in this area.”
Nell scanned the flyer. The home offered two bedrooms with two full baths on the second floor, and a kitchen, living, and dining room combo on the first. “Has it been on the market long?”
“Long enough. I’m Bennett Calhoun, listing agent.” He extended his hand to her. “And you are?”
“Nell Jackson.”
“Care to take a look?” He glanced at his watch one last time. “My two fifteen appointment is officially thirty minutes late. I have time to show it to you if you’re interested.”
“I’m not exactly in the market for a new home, Mr. Calhoun, and I have to be somewhere in fifteen minutes.”
Bennett Calhoun’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “This house is so small, it’ll only take ten.” He unlocked the front door and held it open for her to enter. “I feel obligated to warn you that if you’re not already in the market for a new home, you will be after you see this little gem.”
Calhoun walked her through the house and then allowed her a few minutes to explore on her own. She stood at the window of the front bedroom watching pedestrians walking and jogging around Colonial Lake. Her home in Mount Pleasant had views of the Wando River from nearly every room. She realized with a jolt that she wouldn’t miss it. Nell had poured her heart and soul into designing that house, but she’d never felt about it the way she felt about this dollhouse. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Something just felt right. She would thrive in the heart of downtown Charleston. She felt a sense of calm here, a place for her to heal. She would fill the rooms with her most beloved possessions, things she cherished that had nothing to do with Desmond.
“So what do you think?” Bennett asked when they were outside once again.
“I think I’m going to be late for my three o’clock appointment.” She walked to her car, and he followed her. “You never gave me a straight answer, Mr. Calhoun. How long as the property been on the market?”
He looked her square in the eye. “For six months now.”
“So the buyers are motivated to sell, in other words,” she said, opening her car door and tossing her bag onto the passenger seat.
“We’ll have better negotiating power, Ms. Jackson, if I represent you. That is, if you don’t already have a Realtor.” He fished a business card out of his wallet. “Give it some thought. Perhaps fate brought us together today,” he said with that twinkle she was starting to warm up to.
Noticing the wedding band on his ring finger, she said, “I feel sorry for your wife.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh really! Why’s that?”
“Because I imagine she has a hard time saying no to you.”
He laughed out loud. “I’ll be sure to tell Midge that when I get home tonight. She’ll get a kick out of it, because the truth is, Ms. Jackson, I’m the one who has a hard time telling her no.”
Nell was walking up the sidewalk from the street when Willa called down to her from the piazza outside her room. “Come on up. The door’s unlocked. My aide is in the kitchen making a fresh pitcher of sweet tea.”
She let herself in the front door and hurried up the stairs, relieved to find Lady nowhere in sight. She walked through Willa’s room and out onto the piazza. “These are for you,” she said, presenting her with flowers and a kiss on the cheek. “I must say, you’re looking well, much better than when I saw you in the hospital.”
“Not my best moment, for sure.” Willa sniffed the flowers and placed the vase on the table beside her. “These are lovely. Thank you.” She motioned Nell to the love seat next to her. “Sit down. Monique will be up with our tea in a moment.”
Nell settled herself in. “Miss Willa, I owe you an apology for breaking my promise to visit you. I got—”
Willa held her hand up to silence Nell. “You already apologized.” Nell shot her a questioning look, and Willa added, “While I was in the hospital. I heard your apology.”
“Oh.” Nell’s face grew warm. “Then I suppose you heard everything.”
Willa nodded. “Out of respect for your privacy, I’m not going to ask what happened with Daniel. He’s Regan’s father, and truthfully, I’m not sure I want to know. I’m also not going to ask you why you and your husband are getting a divorce. But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
“I’ll remember that. Thank you. And thank you for respecting my privacy.”
A woman wearing a uniform printed with cats and hearts stepped onto the piazza with a tray bearing a pitcher of sweet tea, two glasses, and a plate of cheese straws.
Willa introduced Nell to Monique. “Monique claims that hers are the best cheese straws in the South, but I’ve assured her that no cheese straw could possibly compare to your mama’s cheese biscuits.” Willa held the plate out to Nell. “Will you do the honors of performing the taste test?”
Nell laughed out loud. “That’s a lot of pressure, Miss Willa.” She took a cheese straw from the plate and broke it in half. She tasted the savory goodness of aged sharp cheddar with a peppery bite. “I have to say, this is pretty darn good.”
“Let me try one.” Willa grabbed a cheese straw and stuffed it into her mouth whole. “Not as good as May May’s, but they’ll do.” She winked at Monique, who smiled and scurried off.
“Now, where was I? Oh right, the hospital. I want you to know, the things you said while I was in my fever delirium meant a lot to me. Did you mean what you said about us being a family again? I’d really like to know my grandson.”
Nell busied herself with pouring each of them a glass of tea. She’d mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say to Willa, but given the opportunity, she questioned how her words would be perceived. “There’s nothing I’d like more than for you to meet my son. You’ll have an opportunity to do that on Saturday when he picks Regan up for the prom.”
“Oh yes, the prom! My granddaughter is so excited.” Willa’s face took on a dreamy glow. “She’s wearing her mother’s dress. Do you remember that floral Lilly Pulitzer she wore to her senior prom?”
“I remember,” Nell said. She would never forget the sight of Lady in
that gorgeous blue-and-green gown with her blonde hair cascading down her back in ringlets. Or the way Hank looked at her when he came to pick her up, as though he’d never seen anyone lovelier. Nell’s brief crush on Hank had long since ended by then, but that night had been difficult for her just the same. She remembered how left out she felt when all her friends went off to their prom together with smiles on their rosy lips, nails polished and hair groomed, small bouquets of sweetheart roses attached to their wrists. Watching them go had been yet another reminder to Nell that she didn’t belong. She’d gone to her own prom, dressed in her own lovely gown, at her own school. But it hadn’t been the same.
“I know Regan will be as lovely as her mother was in that dress,” she said. “Now that I can envision it, I’ll know what flowers to order for her bouquet. Be sure to take lots of pictures.”
“I’d have to talk it over with Regan and Lady first, but I’d love for you to come over to the house with Booker. That way, you can take all the pictures you want. You can stay for supper after we see the kids off.”
There it was—the invitation she’d been hoping for. Oh, how she hated to decline. “I’m not sure Lady is ready to let me back into your lives. And honestly, I don’t blame her. The last thing I want to do is cause your family more pain.”
“Our family, Nell. You are a part of that family.” Willa’s shoulders sagged. “But I’m afraid you’re right about Lady. She’s sorting out her own life right now and needs some time. Both of you are on the cusp of a whole new life with your children going off to college.”
“Don’t I know it.” Nell crossed her legs as she sipped her tea. “I’m scared to death, if you want to know the truth. I’ve lost my husband, and now I’m losing my child. I’ve never really been on my own before, except those first few years out of college. And I wasn’t exactly single then either. Desmond and I were practically living together, already talking about getting married. I’m not sure I know how to be on my own.”
“Good thing you’re a quick learner,” Willa said, tilting her glass to Nell. “Look at it as an opportunity to reinvent yourself. There’s so much to see and do in Charleston. I’m sure you have plenty of girlfriends who’d want to explore all the trendy new restaurants and cultural events with you.”
“Most of my friends are my husband’s friends’ wives,” Nell said with a pang of sorrow. “Which means they were never really my friends to begin with.”
They sat for a few minutes, listening to the foghorn of a cruise ship coming into port. Nell stared out across the neighboring houses while the smell of the harbor summoned pleasant memories from her childhood. So many good things had happened to her while she lived in this house. It hadn’t been all bad like she’d convinced herself over the years. She felt at peace sitting on the piazza with Willa, as one might when coming home after a long absence.
“A funny thing happened to me on my way here today.” Nell launched into a description of her encounter with the Realtor and her walk-through of the dollhouse for sale. “I connected with that house like one connects with a new friend. Until now, I’ve been adamantly opposed to selling my house, trying desperately to hold on to my old life. I realized today that what I truly need is a fresh start. And even though it will be at least a year before I have a divorce settlement, I have enough in my personal savings account to make a down payment.”
“Where is this dollhouse?”
“Not far from here on Rutledge Avenue, overlooking Colonial Lake.”
Willa pounded the table beside her. “Then what’re you waiting for? Get over there now and make your best offer before someone snatches it up. We would be neighbors. I would love having you close to me.”
Nell smiled. Willa’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I’d like that too, but I can’t do anything without talking it over with Booker first. He’d have to approve of the property. Maybe I’ll take him to see it on Sunday.”
“That’s the spirit! Let me know how it goes. Now.” Willa rubbed the top of her nearly bald head. “Did you bring your razor with you?”
Nell lifted her purse off the floor. “I did. And I brought you a turban as well.” She removed a pair of scissors, a razor, and a mint-colored cancer beanie from her purse and set the items on the table between them. “My patients love these beanies. They’re made of bamboo rayon and fit snug to your head. They come in a variety of different colors. Say the word, and I’ll order more for you.”
Willa fingered the beanie’s fabric. “This one should do nicely. Now that the treatments are behind me, I hope my hair will start to grow back.”
“And you’ll be surprised how quickly it comes back in.” Standing behind Willa, Nell trimmed her remaining hair down to a stubble, then ran the electric razor lightly over the top of her scalp. “There. All done,” she said, raking the hair droppings into a pile.
Willa’s fingers felt the top of her bald scalp. “Would you be a dear and get my handheld mirror out of the bathroom for me?”
Nell took the hair clippings to the bathroom, dropped them into the trash can, and returned to the porch with the mirror. She let Willa hold the mirror long enough for her to get a glimpse of herself and then took it away. “Let’s put this on.” She tugged the beanie down over Willa’s head and handed her the mirror again. “See, you look glamorous.”
Willa smiled at herself in the mirror. “I do, don’t I? Like Elizabeth Taylor. Perhaps I’ll have you order more colors after all. One for every outfit.”
Nell laughed. “Next time I come for a visit, I’ll bring my laptop with me, and we can shop the website.”
“You will come again, won’t you?” Willa said in a pleading tone.
“Of course. But I won’t promise a specific date until I look at my work calendar.”
Willa suddenly looked exhausted.
“Let’s get you inside. I’m afraid I’ve worn you out.” Nell helped Willa up from the chaise longue and into bed. “Do you have a cell phone, Miss Willa? I’d like to call before my next visit.”
“I hardly ever use it. I couldn’t even tell you where it is at the moment.” Willa pulled the covers up under her chin. “Call me on the house line. Lady never answers it.”
Nell placed her business card on the nightstand. “Here are my numbers. Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
With heavy eyelids, Willa smiled and nodded.
Nell nestled the comforter tight around Willa’s body and tiptoed out of the room. She waved to Monique, who was watching TV in the drawing room, and let herself out the front door. She was halfway down the driveway when Lady pulled in.
Lady slammed on the brakes and threw open her door. “You again. Did you come to make more promises you can’t keep?” She was wearing makeup and a new hairstyle, her appearance drastically improved from the last few times she’d seen her.
“Lady, I—”
“Spare me, Nell. I thought I made it clear the other day—you are not welcome here. By your own choice, you’re no longer a part of our lives. Now, please leave. And don’t come back.” She slammed the car door and drove to the top of the driveway.
Nell started toward her car on the street and then changed her mind. She strode up to Lady, who was removing groceries from the trunk. “For your information, Willa and I had a nice visit today. You can’t stop me from seeing her. She wants me here. If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.” She spun around, and as she hurried down the driveway, she called over her shoulder, “By the way, your haircut looks nice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BOOKER
Booker was crossing the Ravenel Bridge late Friday afternoon, on his way home from school, when his smartphone rang. He snatched the phone up from the center console and answered without so much as a glance at the screen. He realized his mistake immediately when he heard his father’s voice.
“Booker! At long last! I’ve been trying to reach you for a week.”
Duh, Dad, Booker thought. I’ve been avoiding you for a week for a
reason.
“What’s up, Dad?” he said with zero enthusiasm in his voice.
“I miss you, son. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you. Can we have lunch tomorrow?”
“Sorry, but I have to study tomorrow.”
“Surely you can take a few minutes away from the books for your old man.”
As far back as Booker could remember, with the exception of the rare vacation, he’d never eaten lunch in a restaurant with his dad. He understood his father’s motives all too well. A week of nonstop calls meant he wanted something. And Booker was curious what that something was.
“Fine,” Booker said. “As long as we meet somewhere close to the library with fast service.”
“Name the time and place.”
“Brown Dog Deli at noon,” he said, and hung up without saying goodbye.
As he turned off the highway toward home, Booker rolled all his windows down, hoping the fresh air would cleanse his mind of the brief exchange with his father. He was almost home when he realized he’d forgotten to pick up his tuxedo. He banged his palm on the steering wheel. He’d either have to go back out now, in the late-Friday-afternoon traffic, or pick it up tomorrow, which meant more time away from studying. Agreeing to go to the prom was turning out to be a big mistake. Of all weekends, his teachers had loaded them down with homework. He was marching headlong into doomsday. On May 1, National College Decision Day, he would have to submit his deposit for next year to one of the four schools that had accepted him. The probability of him actually attending that college increased with every day that passed with no word from Harvard. If only he knew which of those colleges to choose.
He circled the cul-de-sac in front of his house and headed back toward the highway.
Booker was up at dawn the following morning and seated at a desk in a secluded corner at the back of the library by eight. He was so engrossed in his studies, he completely forgot about the lunch meeting with his father until his phone vibrated on the table beside him at quarter past twelve.
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