Small Town Girl

by LaVyrle Spencer

As Tess finished, Renee showed up in the doorway. “Hey, you two, here’s where you are! I just passed somebody in a uniform who says they want us down the hall before they take Momma in. Come on.”

  Tess got up and took off like a shot, passing Renee in the doorway.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Renee asked Judy.

  “Same thing as always. Thinks she’s too good for the rest of us.”

  “Judy! Do you have to be at her all the time? She just got here, for heaven’s sake.”

  “’Bout time, too,” Judy grumbled as the two followed. In the hall Mary was lying on a gurney, covered to the shoulders. By turns, her children bent over her, kissed her and hid their sibling animosities.

  “We’ll be right here when you wake up, Momma,” Tess told her.

  Renee added, “It’s going to go just great, just like last time. Don’t you worry.”

  “The kids and Ed all said to send you their love and to tell you they’d be up to visit,” Judy said. “See you soon.”

  They watched the gurney roll away and stood motionless, three sisters in the middle of a hospital corridor experiencing some tempering of the discord among them as their concern was funneled toward the mother they all loved. She had looked defenseless, lying flat, her cheeks and jowls drawn backward by gravity, her hair smelling medicinal and looking tatty after back-to-back washings and no stylings. Hip replacement was certainly a common surgery in this day and age, but at seventy-four, who knew what could happen? She was getting set in her ways, occasionally forgetful, stubborn at times, and exasperating at others. But she was the reason they were sisters. She was the source of so many of their mutual childhood memories, the provider of sustenance and love that had been ever present in their lives. And for those few seconds while they stood watching her being rolled away into the care of strangers whose competence they were forced to trust, the trio bonded.

  The doors swung shut behind the gurney and the squishy-soled white shoes and blue scrubs disappeared. A soft bell bonged on an overhead speaker. A feminine voice said quietly, “Doctor Diamond … Doctor Diamond.” Then nothing more.

  Renee sighed and turned to the others. “What do you say to a hot cup of coffee in the cafeteria?” She had been cast in the role of peacemaker for so many years it was natural for her to resume it now that they were together again. Taking their elbows, she forced them to walk with her. “Come on, now, you two, you’re going to stop your squabbling.”

  There were perhaps a dozen people at various tables in the cafeteria, plus two workers behind the counter. One was in her fifties with a corkscrew home perm in her brown hair. She quit loading cartons of juice onto the stainless-steel cooler and did a double take when she saw Tess.

  “‘Mornin’,” she said.

  “Good morning.”

  Behind the cash register another middle-aged woman with a poor complexion and outdated glasses took their money. When the three McPhails settled into their chairs it was obvious the two behind the counter were trying to decide if they were right about who Tess was. Tess deliberately sat down with her back to them.

  Finally the one with the tight perm came over.

  “Say, aren’t you somebody I ought to know?”

  Tess had been through this before. She knew the best way to handle it.

  “I’m Tess McPhail.”

  “See, I told you, Blanche! It’s her!” the woman trumpeted across the cafeteria. “I heard you were born and raised someplace around here. Say, you wouldn’t mind signing an autograph for me, would you? I don’t have any paper but you can use this.” She pulled Tess’s own napkin to the edge of the table. “My husband’ll never believe me otherwise. Sorry, I don’t have a pen, but you must have one in that great big bag of yours someplace, haven’t you?”

  Tess had hung her bag on the back of her chair. As she began to reach for it, a pen appeared from across the table.

  Renee handed it over, telegraphing dry amusement in the set of her mouth and eyebrows.

  Tess began to write. The fan said, “Would you make it to Delores? And say something about how good the food was in here or something like that, just so people will believe you really came in here and ate.”

  When she finished she handed the napkin to the woman who beamed at it and said, “Thanks, honey. Say, you sure are a little bit of a thing, and just as nice as you are cute. Thanks again.” She gave Tess a whap on the back that hurt clear to the front, then went off examining the napkin and smiling.

  When she was gone, Renee extended her open hand for the pen. Tess gave it to her and pushed back from the table.

  “Excuse me,” she said wryly. “Seems I need a new napkin.”

  As she returned with one, Renee began aping the fan Delores, using a pronounced Southern drawl. “Man Gawd, it’s Mac McPhail, and damned if she don’t eat and use napkins just like othuh human bein’s. Wha, Ah thought all she did was sing them country songs and get on awards shows and go to the bank with her money.” Dropping the accent she added, “Lord-a-frighty, are they all like that?”

  “Thank God, no. Some of them have brains in their heads.”

  “How often do you meet this kind?”

  “Too often.”

  Renee started laughing behind her napkin. “I thought she was going to knock you right off your chair when she patted your back.”

  “That’s better than the ones who want to hug you.”

  “Eek.”

  “Yeah. Eek.”

  “Mom told me about the one you found in your dressing room.”

  “That was scary.”

  “How’d he get in there?”

  “Nobody knows for sure. There’s always security when we’re at a concert site, but somehow he got past it. I opened the door and there he was, smelling a bottle of my perfume. It was creepy.”

  “Momma was really spooked when she told me. She worries about you a lot when she knows you’re out on the road.”

  “It’s a lot safer now that we don’t use the bus anymore, plus I’m usually with the guys from the band, and like I said, there’s always security at the venue. There’s really nothing to worry about.”

  “Till you find a man in your dressing room sniffing your perfume.”

  They exchanged sober looks, and Tess suggested, “Let’s change the subject.”

  Throughout the entire cafeteria scene Judy had said nothing. She’d sat by as if the fans, the autographing and the story about the intruder had never happened. Her silent antipathy was a felt thing that colored the feelings among the three sisters as they ate their breakfasts.

  Renee had ordered oatmeal.

  Tess was eating a half a grapefruit and a toasted English muffin, dry.

  Judy ate two doughnuts and a cup of hot chocolate.

  Watching her, Tess thought, Don’t you have any more respect for your body than that? Three hundred calories apiece and you’re pushing them down your fat neck in pairs. Apparently Judy did not, for she polished off the first two doughnuts and went away to get a third.

  Tess’s eyes followed her to the counter.

  “She should go on a diet.”

  “But as long as you’re tinier than she is, she can disdain you for that as well as for your success, can’t she?”

  “You noticed.”

  “I’ve always noticed.”

  “Does she have to treat me like I’m some egomaniacal fan seeker? It’s part of my business—an important part—and there are times when I hate it, but fans are my life-blood. She should know that.”

  “Deep down inside, I’m sure she does.”

  With a sad expression Tess studied her obese sister across the room. “You know something? She’s never said one nice thing about what I do. It’s like I don’t even do it. She’s never told me she bought a tape, or listened to a song on the radio—much less liked anything. Would it hurt her, for God’s sake?”

  “Judy’s not a happy woman, Tess. Shh, here she comes.”

  Judy returned with an oversized cinnamon ro
ll laced with sticky caramel and pecans. She set the plate down and used a two-handed tabletop press to lower her bulk to the chair.

  Lifting the caramel roll, she looked up at the wall clock. “Well, Mom’s about half done by now,” she said, diverting attention from her addiction. And with that remark she also managed to continue her long-standing emotional embargo on her younger sister.

  Tess found it difficult to stay awake when they returned to the family lounge. Her coyote’s timeclock was definitely wound down after she rose at moonset. She was on the davenport nodding off when a male voice said, “Ladies? I’m Doctor Palmer.”

  She stretched to her feet as he entered the lounge and shook hands all around. He was wearing blue scrubs on all but his head, which sported a crop of wavy nickel-gray hair. He had minimal lips, a forthright chin and nose, and he wore silver-rimmed glasses.

  “Our local star,” he said, releasing Tess’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” To all of them he said, “Your mother’s doing fine. The surgery went very well and we didn’t find anything unusual, no evidence of cancer, which is always good news. The hip joint was pretty well worn out, so this should get rid of her pain. I understand one of you will be taking care of her for a while.”

  “Yes, me,” Tess said.

  “You’ll want to get her standing tomorrow and walking the day after. The nurses here will help, of course, but I want to reassure you that it’s best to start using the hip right away. We don’t let people lie around after surgery the way we used to. She’ll be getting physical therapy while she’s here, and you’ll be helping her with therapy at home. The therapist will give you some instructions.”

  “When can she go home?”

  “She’ll be discharged in five or six days, depending on how well she’s progressing. She should schedule a follow-up visit in two weeks. That’s when we’ll take the staples out. Then another visit four weeks after that. We’ll take an X ray at that time, and barring any problems, I’ll see her on a yearly basis after that.”

  “When can we see her?”

  “They’re just taking her up to her room. Give her time to get settled, ten minutes or so, then you can go right up.”

  “Is she groggy?”

  “Somewhat.”

  When the girls went in to visit Mary, they found her dozing with the head of her bed propped up. Sensing she was no longer alone, she opened her eyes and smiled wanly. They went to both sides of the bed and Renee spoke. “It’s all done now. The doctor said it went just fine.”

  Mary nodded weakly. She had oxygen prongs in her nose, an IV drip going into her hand, and a catheter trailing from under the sheets. An adductor pillow held her legs apart beneath the sheets.

  “So tired,” she murmured, and her eyes drifted closed. They took turns touching her hands, kissing her cheek, smoothing the hair back from her forehead, but it was obvious Mary needed sleep more than anything. A nurse came in, smiled, and began taking her pulse. After writing it on a chart, she said, “She’s going to sleep for a while. We can call you when she wakes up if you’d rather wait in the lounge.”

  So they returned to the lounge to sip more coffee and pass the hours taking turns checking on their mother. As the day progressed and the anaesthesia wore off, Mary’s discomfort grew. The nurses gave her pain pills and a light sedative. She was asleep and the girls were in the lounge late that afternoon when a teenage girl stuck her head around the doorway.

  “Hi, everyone, how’s it goin’?”

  Judy looked up from her magazine. “Oh, hi, Casey.”

  Renee said, “Well, Casey, what are you doing here?”

  “I was out riding my horse. How’s Mary doin’?” She was dressed like a barrel racer who’d fallen on hard times—cuter than a bug’s ear, with a loose blond French braid, a messy straw cowboy hat, faded shirt with pearl buttons, and blue jeans with enormous holes in the knees. When she advanced into the room, the smell of horses came with her.

  “Pretty well, actually. The surgery went perfectly and she’s been resting a lot.”

  “Well, hey! Sounds good!” She moved like an aging rodeo cowboy, with a graceless sway. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” She extended her hand to Tess. “I’m Casey Kronek. I live across the alley from your mom.”

  “Hello, Casey. I’m Tess.”

  “I know. Heck, everybody knows. I told my dad soon as I found out you were coming home, ‘Hey, I gotta meet her!’ And, I gotta tell you, I’m excited to be shaking your hand at last. So your mom, she’s doin’ okay, huh?”

  “Just fine.”

  “I don’t suppose people can see her yet.”

  “Tomorrow might be better. She’s been sleeping a lot.”

  “Well, that’s just as well, ‘cause I stink.” Casey looked down at her sorry jeans and sorrier cowboy boots.

  Tess burst out laughing and said, “Yes, you do, actually.”

  “I was going out to ride my horse and it wasn’t that much farther over here, so I figured I’d just sidetrack a little and see how Mary’s doing. Your mom’s one fine old babe. She’s always been like a grandma to me, and I feel bad that she’s got to go through so much pain and misery to get her hips fixed up.” Abruptly she turned to Judy. “So, I hear Tricia’s going to the prom with Brandon Sikes.”

  “Yes, he finally asked her.”

  “Boy, he’s cute! And nice, too.”

  “She thinks so, too.”

  “Is she going to college next fall?”

  “She’s been accepted at SEMo, plans to be an elementary teacher. How about you?”

  “Oh, gosh no!” Casey held up both palms. “No college for me, thank you! I haven’t got the brains for that. Raising horses is more my style. Hey, Renee, we got the invitation to Rachel’s wedding, and we’ll be there for sure. It’s pretty exciting, huh?”

  “Yes, and not far off now. Less than a month.”

  “They gonna live here?”

  “For a while.”

  “Bet you’re relieved, huh? I mean, who’d want their kid to get married and then move off right away? I guess that’d be kind of a bummer.”

  “I’m glad they’re staying, for a while anyway. You still singing with that little band?”

  “Nope, we broke up. Couldn’t find anyplace to get a gig around here, plus Dad said it was keeping me up too late at night and even if I didn’t want to go to college, I had to finish high school. He said the band was getting in the way.”

  Renee turned to Tess. “Casey’s just like you, Tess. Singing all the time.”

  “Shh!” Casey scolded. “She’ll think I’m coming around here looking for her to help me get a break or something. She’s prob’ly thinking, ‘Help! Another one!”’ Casey clasped her hands on her head, then dropped them. “I really just came to check on Mary. And to bring her this.” She handed something to Renee. “It’s a four-leaf clover. Found it out in the pasture. You give it to her and tell her Casey sends her love and I’ll see her tomorrow or the next day, okay?”

  “Sure will, Casey, and thanks for coming. She’ll appreciate it, I know.”

  “Well…” Casey stood a minute longer, her index fingers hooked into the belt loops of her jeans. Abruptly she stuck out her hand to Tess. “Sure was nice to meet you, Miss McPhail … ah, Tess … Mac … I don’t know for sure what to call you.”

  Tess could scarcely keep from wincing at the strength of the girl’s handshake. Beyond her cute face, little about her was feminine, but it appeared she assumed the masculine body language on purpose. “Around here everybody uses ‘Tess’. Out there”—Tess gestured at the rest of the world—“it’s Mac. Take your pick.”

  “Mac, then.” Casey smiled and released Tess’s hand, stepping back. “There is one thing I’d like to ask you if I could. Since we go to the Methodist church where your mom goes, and where you used to go—well, my dad directs the choir there and I heard you’re going to be around for a while taking care of Mary, so do you think you could come and sing with us one Sunday? It’d
really be awesome. I mean, just think of it—Tess McPhail and the Wintergreen First Methodist Church choir! We’d really have a packed house that day!” The idea of standing in the choir loft and being directed by Kenny Kronek was about as appealing as chewing glass. “Let me think about it, okay?”

  “Sure. You think about it.” Casey shrugged. “I suppose you get a hundred people a month asking you to do things for their groups—speeches and singing and signing autographs. I didn’t mean to crowd you.”

  “You didn’t crowd me. Public appearances are all part of my job, but I still want to think about it.”

  “Sure, I understand.” Casey beamed straight at Tess, and a touch of high color painted a backdrop for the smattering of freckles on her cheeks. “Well, I better go. Nice to meetcha.”

  “Same here.”

  “‘Bye, Judy. ‘Bye, Renee.”

  “’Bye,” they both said.

  When she was gone, Tess remarked, “On top of everything else, Saint Kenny directs the church choir? Since when does he qualify?”

  “He doesn’t,” Renee answered. “I guess all he’s ever done was sing in the high school choir. But when Mrs. Atherton got sick, there was nobody to take over and Casey talked him into it. Since he already sang in the church choir and nobody else volunteered, he agreed to do it. That was about six months ago and nobody else has come forward yet, so he’s still directing.”

  “How do they sound?”

  “Pretty decent. They haven’t been invited to back up Pavarotti or anything, but”—Renee shrugged—“decent.”

  Judy spoke up. “Saint Kenny?”

  “Well, isn’t he? Mother seems to have canonized him.”

  “He’s very good to her.”

  “Very good to her! He might as well move right in! He plants her garden, fills her water softener, installs her new garage door! Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t show up to do her hip replacement surgery this morning! I mean, every time I turn around I’m running into this guy. What is going on?”

  Judy and Renee exchanged baffled glances.

  “Maybe you’d better tell us what’s going on,” Renee responded. “The guy helps Mom—what’s wrong with that?”