Lowcountry Summer

  “Well? First, I hear that Rusty’s dead and I thought, ‘Wow, that’s too bad.’ Linnie sent me a message, which is how I found out, in case you want to know.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet the news about killed you.”

  “Look, Caroline, you know how I felt about her, but I never wished anybody dead. Not even you.”

  She was lying through her teeth, according to my bones.

  “Oh, thanks. Thanks a lot. I really believe that.”

  “I couldn’t care less what you believe or not, okay? And then my time was just about up in my program anyway, so I started making my plans to come back. So, I get back here to my house in Walterboro two days ago and call my girls to see if they’re still alive and they say they are so, so glad I’m back because everything is terrible!”

  “What’s so terrible?” Not one of them had said a word to me! Not one word! The treachery!

  “That their daddy can’t even hardly speak more than two words. Talking to him is like talking to a goll-dang zombie! And he’s laying around all day—”

  “Chickens lay eggs, Frances Mae. People lie in bed.”

  “Oh, my! You’re right! Thank you, Queen of Nothing, for correcting my English.”

  I just stared at her. She was so disgustingly vulgar. I felt like I must have been running a fever of about 110 degrees.

  “I mean, Caroline, if I learned anything in California this time, it’s that sometimes people really do need professional help! If you love Trip so daggum much, why couldn’t you see how depressed he is and do something about it?”

  “Of course I saw! We all did!”

  “So you made him a pot of chili. Isn’t that precious? Chili’s a big help. Whoop-de-do! I made arrangements through Promises for a good therapist and we start seeing her tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s good! You’ll probably need one for the rest of your pitiful life!”

  “Oh, go blow it out your ass, missy! I ain’t got time for you.”

  Who did she think she was talking to? Dismissing me like that?

  “Frances Mae? Why don’t you . . . why don’t you just go blow it out of yours?”

  “Ooooh! Scaaary!”

  “Let me tell you something, you ungrateful piece of rubbish. I made a pot of chili, but I also made three meals a day for your girls for the whole time you’ve been gone. And I saw to it that Belle had a wonderful graduation party for her entire class. And I listened to your girls when they needed to talk, corrected them when they needed it, and I dried an ocean of their tears. And I cleaned your filthy dirty house in Walterboro. You’ve got some nerve to come back here with this kind of attitude. You ought to be on your knees thanking me instead of acting like this. Just who do you think you are?”

  “I’m Trip’s wife, honey, and I’m back. Just like I said I would be. I’m back for my family and Trip. Trip and I stayed up all night talking. I’m taking my family back. I put the house in Walterboro on the market yesterday and I’m moved in here as of today—well, as soon as the truck arrives. So, Caroline? This is my house and you’re no longer needed. So, why don’t you just trot your bony ass right back out the door?”

  “This is not your house! This is my brother’s house! And I don’t believe a word you’re saying!”

  “You can believe whatever you want! It don’t make no never mind to me! And, you dumb bitch, fifty percent of every single thing he owns is mine anyway! You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

  “Millie knew you were coming. I should’ve warned my brother.”

  “Honey? It was Millie who told me to get back here and rescue my family!”

  What? WHAT DID SHE SAY?

  “Okay, that’s it. You listen to me, Frances Mae Litchfield! You can tell your lies to everyone else, but don’t you ever, ever lie to me about Millie Smoak!”

  She got really quiet and looked at me. Then she had the crust, the freaking audacity, to actually smile at me.

  “Then why don’t you just go ask her, Caroline?”

  I was beyond furious then. There was probably a cloud of steam all around me.

  “I will! Right now!”

  I turned around and marched out of the door and then I stopped and went back inside, where she was still standing. Quintuple hairy eyeball billowing smoke and shooting fire doesn’t begin to describe the look I gave her. I picked up the chili and left.

  Okay, it was probably childish to take the chili back, but bump her! Seriously! And I didn’t believe a word about Millie talking to her! Millie would’ve told me! I couldn’t make my stupid golf cart go fast enough. I began to perspire. What if Millie had talked to her? Why wouldn’t she have told me? Did Millie just let me walk into a nest of snakes? No! Millie wouldn’t do that to me! There had to be an explanation!

  I pulled up to the door and hopped out. I looked at the house and said to myself, Okay, calm down! Calm down! You’re going to give yourself a heart attack and have to give up sex forever. Millie Smoak has never betrayed you in your whole life. There is a reasonable explanation for all of this. And Frances Mae was getting back together with Trip? Over my dead body.

  “Millie?” I called out as soon as I opened the door. “Millie? Where are you?” I threw the underappreciated container of whoop-de-do chili on the counter. “Millie?”

  “I’m right here, coming as fast as I can! What’s the matter?” She came through the swinging door and stopped. “What in the world is wrong with you now?”

  I looked at her right in her eyes and said, “Is it possible you knew Frances Mae was back and that she has moved into Trip’s house and she put the house in Walterboro on the market and that it appears that they are reconciling? Is it possible you knew all this and didn’t tell me?”

  “She did? They are? Oh, my glory! I gots to sit down.”

  “Come on, Millie, what happened?”

  She looked awfully sheepish and was quiet for a few minutes, obviously trying to gather her thoughts. She would start to speak and then stop. Millie was nervous. Millie was the very last person in the world besides Eric I ever wanted to have words with and I knew I had to let her off the hook.

  “Millie? If you did know all this, I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me. I just got caught off guard, and well, I think I called her a liar. And some other things.” I sank into a chair next to hers.

  Millie smiled at me, reached over, and patted the back of my hand.

  “Caroline? Listen, that fool called the house two days ago crying and carrying on. Just the sound of her voice makes me hoppin’ mad. She says she needs to know how Trip is doing and I say, ‘You listen to me, he’s in a terrible situation and I think it’s high time you came and took care of your girls.’ That’s all! She just hung up on me. I didn’t know she was here! I didn’t know they was back together! What’s the matter with your brother? He can’t live without somebody waiting on him hand and foot every minute of the day?”

  “Apparently not!”

  “If I knew all that, I most definitely would’ve tell it to you right away! I kept meaning to tell you that she called but I kept forgetting! My memory is getting worse and worse. Oh Lawsa!”

  “Oh, Millie. Come on. It’s okay. It really is. Lord, I can’t bear that vile woman! She’s worse than ever and now she’s back in our lives? Oh, Millie! What are we gonna do?”

  “Caroline? Chile? You know I love you like a daughter, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but?”

  “Then you listen up. You gots to stop sticking your nose where it don’t belong! I know you been trying to take care of your brother and his children and we all been trying! But that crazy woman is still his wife, and iffin he wants to throw a parade in her honor on Highway 17 the whole way down to Charleston, there ain’t a single thing you can do about it. You ’eah me? Stay out of this.”

  “Merciful Mother of God. You’re right, of course. I’m so glad my mother didn’t live to see this.”

  “Me, too.”

  A few hours passed and it was time to e
at again. My life was so managed by periodically squelching the hunger of everyone around me, it was just ridiculous. But as we all know, meals serve other purposes, too. Eric finally came down to the kitchen looking for some lunch.

  “Feel like a tomato sandwich?” I said, holding a tomato up for him to see. “These came from Millie’s garden. First ones of the season.”

  “Sure. Wanna eat outside?”

  “Why not? You wipe off the glass and knock the pollen off the cushions and I’ll meet you out there in a few minutes.”

  Soon we were sitting across from each other drinking iced tea, devouring our lunch, and talking about the news flash of Frances Mae’s return.

  “So, that was my morning,” I said.

  “Holy crap,” he said.

  “Eric! Well, actually, to be honest, I was thinking something much worse in my head.”

  “For once in my life, would you please tell me exactly what you were thinking?”

  “Okay. How’s this? I was thinking I wish she would kiss my ass in Macy’s window and then fall off the Empire State Building and go straight to hell.”

  “Wow, Mom. Cool.”

  “And, I want you to think about this. I know you broke up with Erica and you probably feel awful . . .”

  “Her baby daddy came back.”

  “Oh! Baby daddy? Oh! You mean the child’s birth father?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well! That’s actually probably a good thing. Maybe? I mean, the child needs his father, right?”

  “Who knows that better than I do?”

  “Um, actually, I know it, too, remember? And so does Uncle Trip.”

  “Right. Anyway, it’s probably better this way.”

  “Listen, Eric, I’m gonna tell you something about love and I want you to remember it.” He looked up at me. His gorgeous eyes were so sad and I died a thousand times. “Love is the most wonderful miracle in the world. Don’t ever apologize for loving someone. Our ability to love someone else is still the greatest gift God ever gave us.”

  “Yeah, it might just be. But right now love’s not making me happy. It’s making me feel pretty miserable.”

  “And your uncle Trip is miserable, and I’ve been miserable, and guess what? You’ll fall in love again and get your heart broken about one hundred times before you find the girl you want to settle down with. So cheer up, there’s a lot more misery in store for you but there’s also a lot more happiness. All part of life’s great adventure.”

  “Yeah,” he said, and cracked a grin. “I guess.”

  “I’ll kill her if you want me to.”

  “Oh, Mom!”

  “Really! It would be my pleasure.”

  “Mom! Stop!”

  After lunch the phone rang. It was Trip. He sounded halfway human again. Well, more like he had just crawled out of a box in the basement of his brain, but at least he was alive.

  “It appears that my family owes you a large apology and we’d like to offer that by way of dinner tonight. Will you and Eric join us?”

  I bristled. I wasn’t exactly ready for round two with the Evil One.

  “Thanks for the invitation, Trip, but I have plans with Matthew.”

  “Bring him. Seven o’clock.” And he hung up.

  Matthew said he’d absolutely love to come. He wouldn’t miss watching Frances Mae in action for all the illegal drug money in the country. Great. Now I had to go make nice with the Viper.

  Matthew was at my house at seven and rapped on the kitchen door. Eric and I were there, futzing around, turning off lights, checking to be sure the stove was off, and doing the usual rituals we always did before we left the house.

  “Hey, Eric! How’s it going?”

  “Good? You?” They shook hands.

  “Good. Y’all ready for a little fun?”

  “I’m not happy about this, you know,” I said.

  “Look at it this way, Mom! It’s just a normal family get-together!”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, and then I thought of something. “You know what, Eric? I can’t believe one of those girls didn’t tell you about Frances Mae? I mean, you drove all the way back from Columbia and Amelia didn’t say anything?”

  “Well, first of all, blood’s thicker than water, and second, I think I moaned and complained about my own situation the whole way home.”

  Boy, I sure was suspicious.

  We drove over in Matthew’s car and walked right in the back door and into the kitchen. If Frances Mae thought I was going to ring a doorbell in my own brother’s house, she could kiss it in Macy’s window every day until the Mayan calendar ran out and the Apocalypse came.

  “Hey!” Amelia said when she saw us. “How’re y’all?”

  “Been better,” Eric said.

  “Oh, come on to the table. Everything’s ready.”

  There was no cocktail hour in a house where no one drank.

  “Hi,” Frances Mae said, without making eye contact.

  “Hi, Frances Mae. Trip?” I said. “Where would you like us to sit?”

  Trip shot a look to Frances Mae. I could hear Frances Mae’s filthy mind thinking she’d like to give me the finger and tell me to sit on it and spin. I really could. But in the interest of harmony, I kept that news to myself.

  “Anywhere you’d like,” she said.

  “Sit by me!” Chloe said. “Did you see Missy? She can shake hands! I taught her!”

  “Show me after dinner, darlin’.” I smiled at her as Matthew held my chair.

  Matthew sat next to me and Eric took a chair across from us after all the “ladies,” using the term with high hopes for the future, had been seated.

  Trip offered a short blessing because dinner was getting cold and Frances Mae and her girls began passing food around the table, helping themselves to spaghetti with Bolognese sauce, salad, and garlic bread. I was so uncomfortable I thought I would never be able to eat, but I managed to take a few bites.

  “So!” Trip said. “When’s Southern Living coming, Caroline?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why are they coming here?” Amelia asked.

  “To take pictures of my roses,” I said.

  Conversation was strained and then Frances Mae lost it one more time.

  “Well, la-di-da for you. So, Caroline? What’s all this nonsense I hear about you trying to turn my girls into debutantes?”

  Trip’s eyes shot her a glare.

  “I told Mom about the party in December, Aunt Caroline,” Amelia explained. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “There ain’t gonna be no party, Amelia. It ain’t necessary, and besides, we don’t do that kind of thing in my family.”

  Amelia was instantly crestfallen. I realized she had become pretty excited about the party despite her own worries and that she had decided to trust me to make it happen. Why would Frances Mae want to deny her a party anyway? Because it made her happy to deny me the pleasure of doing something for her daughter that might mean she had a relationship with her aunt? How sick is that?

  “Frances Mae?” I said her name as nicely as I could. “Why don’t you and I discuss this another time? Hmm?”

  “Caroline? I don’t think so. You think you always know what’s best, don’t you? How come you didn’t do something about your moron nineteen-year-old son shacking up with a twenty-eight-year-old grown woman with an illegitimate baby? Tell me that.”

  “That’s it!” I slammed my napkin on the table and stood. “What is the matter with you, Frances Mae? Are you so filled with hatred and anger and jealousy that you can’t show any appreciation for anything? And are you so mean-spirited that you would try to humiliate my son in front of his cousins, his uncle, and my friend? Let’s go, guys. We’re out of here.”

  Eric stood. His face was flushed. Matthew stood as well.

  Trip said, “Caroline! Come on! Sit down!”

  “I don’t want to be a part of this, Trip. I’m sorry, but I can’t bear this kind of behavior. Good night. And Frances Mae? One o
ther thing.”

  “What?” she snarled at me. She actually snarled!

  “I liked you better drunk. At least you were nice some of the time. You know what? I didn’t say a thing about how I found out about your daughters screwing the gardeners when we found their underwear in the bushes, or did I say a word about Linnie doing drugs? No, I did not. You should see your ugly, nasty face. My poor brother.”

  Somehow I found the wherewithal to make a reasonably dignified exit from the table, out the back door, and out of their lives, or so I hoped.

  The next morning when I woke up, figuring that Trip had not done so, I went to get the papers. On the way back to the house I noticed that all the color from my roses was gone. I stopped my car and got out, began walking and then running toward the bushes. I could not believe my eyes. The heads of every single rose in my mother’s garden had been cut off at the top and they were all lying on the ground.

  21

  Make War Not Love

  I JUST WANT TO KNOW who did this, Trip. I want you to find out who did this immediately and I want there to be serious consequences.” I was shaking with anger and outrage. Of course, I completely knew in my bones and in my heart and soul that it was Frances Mae. “This is beyond defacing private property. This is the work of someone who needs a goddamn exorcism.”

  I had called Trip and told him to come immediately. I think I was screaming my head off. When he showed up in the rose garden, he was honestly and absolutely aghast. Mother’s roses were an utter shambles. And Trip looked terrible, as bad as I have ever seen him.

  “This is some horseshit.” He pulled out his cell and called his house. “Frances Mae? Get the girls together and get over to Caroline’s on the double.” Pause. “I don’t give a good goddamn what you’re doing. I said, Now!” Pause. “Put the puppy in her crate.” Pause. “Fine, leave Chloe home. But move it!” He closed his phone. “Caroline? Go in the house and put on a pot of coffee. Stay there until I come get you.”

  I didn’t budge.

  “Please?”

  “I’m calling Matthew.”

  “For what?”

  “I want the person who did this to be arrested. And then I get to call Southern Living magazine and cancel, right?”