“Good English, dumb ass,” Lindsey said.
“Up yours, you’ll miss me,” Gracie said, sitting and taking her menu. “I’m starving!”
Mimi said, “The only good thing about Lindsey running away from home—”
“I am not!”
“We know that, darlin’!” Mimi said and winked at her. “As I was saying . . . the only good thing is that Gracie won’t have anybody to cuss with!”
“Ha!” Lindsey said. “You should hear her and Alex!”
The inane conversation lasted through burgers, pie and the check, but that was normal for us. Chitchat, time passes and the dreaded moment arrives and leaves without us giving it more than a cursory nod.
“We had better go to the gate now,” I said.
I paid the check and walked arm in arm with Mimi, Lindsey’s tote bag slung over my shoulder. Gracie and Lindsey were in front of us.
“There’s nothing like sisters,” I said to Mimi.
“Look at them,” she said.
“Look at us! I mean, where would I be without you? Seriously!”
“It’s the truth! You’d be dead in a ditch for sure! But you know what?”
“What?”
“Gracie’s gonna miss her Lindsey.”
Mimi was surely right about that. I could see Gracie’s shoulders shaking and I thought they were laughing about something. In the next second, she stopped, Lindsey threw her arms around her and I knew she was crying. That was it. I ran to them, Lindsey started to cry and I was next. It was impossible for us not to be emotional, but crying in public was not on Mimi’s list of acceptable activities.
“Y’all! Get a grip!” she said, and started pulling tissues from her pocket. “People are staring!”
Her eyes were brimming with tears too. How could they not have brimmed with tears? We were going to be short one person in the daily body count until Thanksgiving. I was miserable!
“Baby? Come here!” I put my arms around her.
“How will you stand Gracie? You’ll murder her and have good cause!”
“Shut up, jerk.”
“Hush, Gracie! No. I won’t. I promise. You’ll see. Just go. Study! Make A’s! Make us proud!” I sniffed so loud the carpet ruffled. “I love you. We all do. So much.”
Lindsey shifted her tote bag from one shoulder to the other. She hugged Mimi and Gracie and then came back to me. She looked at me as though she was trying to memorize every detail of my face.
“I’m gonna be fine, Mom. Really.”
“I know.”
“I’ll call you tonight?”
“You better.”
We watched her go through security and walk halfway down the long corridor leading to the gates. She stopped, turned and waved to us. I blew her a kiss. She seemed so young to me. Mimi put her arm around my shoulder and Gracie put her arm around my waist. I stood there until Lindsey rounded the corner and was out of my sight.
“Let’s go home, Momma.”
Whether it was on purpose or not, Gracie called the Lowcountry home. It was then that I knew we were going to be fine.
FOURTEEN
PAR-TAY TIME
MY house was so quiet that when the phone rang it sounded like a fire alarm. It was after ten o’clock and Lindsey finally called to let me know she had arrived safely. Fred and Patti had picked her up at the Newark Airport and taken her to dinner at Knickerbocker’s, a neighborhood haunt close to her dorm. Her voice crackled with excitement.
“So, I wasn’t really hungry, because I had just eaten with y’all, but I ate anyway.”
“I don’t want to sound like an old poop, but it’s almost midnight! I was getting worried!”
“Mom! It’s only like ten-fifteen or something!”
“Still!”
“Okay, sorry. I should’ve called you when I landed but we were talking and all. Anyway, freshman orientation is on Tuesday and classes don’t start until Wednesday, so tomorrow I’m gonna work in her store and make some di-ne-rrro. Monday, I’m gonna help her do inventory and come back here after dinner. Her store’s closed for Labor Day, right? Hopefully, my roommate, who I pray to God isn’t a raving lunatic, will show up by then and at least I’ll be unpacked and all, which is why I decided to stay here tonight. Patti’s gonna pay me ten dollars an hour! Isn’t that great? Oh! I am so psyched!”
“Yeah! It’s great. How are you getting back and forth to Essex Fells?”
“I’ll take the bus from the Port Authority. No biggie.”
“Lindsey! You be careful! The Port Authority is crawling with perverts and derelicts! It’s filthy! You have to wash the bottom of your shoes!”
“Mom! I’ve been taking the bus back and forth to New York since I was twelve!”
“You have not!”
“Yes, I have! So has Gracie!”
Well, that little revelation took ten years off my life. And, Patti sucking up to Lindsey was making me uncomfortable. Maybe I was a little bit jealous. Who knows? Better yet, who cares? About Patti, that is.
“Are you there? Mom?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about something . . . .”
“What?”
“My thighs. I have to go on a diet.”
“No, you don’t. You’re fine. Most women your age look like, I don’t know, half-dead cows.”
“Great. I feel much better.”
“Stop! Where’s Gracie?”
“Out. She went to the movies with Alex, I think.”
“You think? What do you mean, you think? Mom! You’d better watch her, you know.”
“Oh, honey, she’s fine. But I will tell her you called. Oh, shoot! Do you have a phone yet?”
“Yeah, here’s the number.”
“What’s the deal on computer access?”
“The room is wired for ethernet and I’m just hoping my roommate has a laptop or something. If not, I can use the tech room. There’s a whole IT office and everything. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry? I had a vision of Lindsey walking across campus after dark and getting killed—how’s that for don’t worry? I took her number and e-mail and she promised to call Gracie Sunday morning. We hung up and I decided to take a bath and go to bed early with a book. The good Lord knew it had been a very long time since I had indulged myself with a good long soak and even longer since I had read something besides the newspaper. Gracie’s curfew was midnight and I would stay awake long enough for her to come in and to see that she was all right.
I was up to my nose in bubbles, reading a book that had won some big award that was the most boring story ever written. Basically, this woman was in her house, looking out of her kitchen window, thinking about her miserable life and so far, in the first twenty-five pages, nothing had happened, except she worried about every single stupid thing that crossed her mind. If I had her life, I’d kill myself, I thought. I tossed it across the floor and added some hot water to the tub. If I had one secret guilty pleasure, it was turning the air conditioner way down low and then soaking in a bath hot enough to cook shrimp.
I had just leaned back and had closed my eyes when I heard a car crunching across the gravel outside. It was probably Gracie. Shoot, I thought, I wasn’t even wrinkled yet. Back in New Jersey, I would have let her cruise past the bathroom door and I would have called out a greeting. But because Lindsey had just left I thought Gracie would be happier if I got out and came to welcome her home.
I threw on my robe and opened the front door.
“I need a hand here!”
It was the voice of Alex. He was panicked.
I opened the screen door and saw Alex and a friend struggling to get Gracie out of the car. I nearly fainted from the sight of her limp body. He held her under her arms and struggled to pick her up. Her shoes were missing and her arms were thrown back.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I hurried down the steps to help him. “Gracie! Baby! What happened?”
“She’s okay and she’ll be okay,” Alex said. “Let’s just . . . h
ere, Steve, take her feet.”
What was he saying? Gracie was not okay! Steve carried Gracie’s feet, and Alex had her under the arms. I ran up the steps to open the door, struggling to keep my bathrobe closed, talking the whole time.
“I thought y’all were going to the movies,” I said.
“We did, but everything we wanted to see was sold out.”
“How did this happen?”
“We met some guys from the football team at Millennium Music and they were going to a party . . .”
Gracie groaned and said, “Where am I?”
“You’re home, Gracie,” I said. “So, you went and there was booze, right? Am I right?”
“There was a lot going on,” Alex said.
I got the screen door opened and together we managed to get Gracie to the couch. I knelt down beside her and it took about one minute to see that there was more at work than liquor. “What else did she do, Alex? Tell me! You have to tell me!”
“I’m gonna take off, Alex,” Steve said, “I’ve got curfew. Y’all okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Alex said. “Thanks.”
“Who was he?”
“A senior . . . Steve Michel . . . he’s a good guy. . . .”
“How did this happen? Tell me!”
“I don’t know, Ms. Breland! I swear! I don’t know! I was in the living room of this house and she went off with some guys and then I was watching a game on the tube. I went looking for her and found her in not very good circumstances and got her out of there and brought her home right away. That’s all I know!”
He was telling the truth. At least, at that moment, I believed him. I opened Gracie’s eyes to see what her pupils looked like and they were a little enlarged. Her eyes were bloodshot.
“Was she smoking pot? Just tell me!”
“Um, I don’t know, but some of the other guys were, so, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Your knuckles are bleeding. Go wash your hands good and get some ice from the freezer. Why are your knuckles bleeding, Alex? What the hell happened?”
“They hit this asshole’s, um, sorry . . .”
“That’s okay,” I said.
“They hit this creep’s jaw a couple of times. I’m gonna call my dad to come get me, okay?”
“Sure. And give me a cold washcloth!”
Gracie’s hair was a mass of tangles. I took the wet cloth from Alex and began wiping her face, over and over, trying to bring her around. Then I wiped her hands. She moaned and said something I couldn’t understand.
“What is it, Gracie? It’s Momma. Talk to me.”
“ ’Sokay, Ma.”
It was not okay.
“Gracie! Let’s try to sit up! Come on!” I got her to almost sit by pushing pillows under her shoulders. “Come on, Gracie! Talk to me! What did you take? Why are you in this shape? Did you do any drugs?”
“No! Oh, oh . . . I don’t feel so good . . . Momma! Help me!”
One of the few blessings of a small home is a short path to the bathroom. I held her head while she was sick, and in between bouts of nausea I let her rest on the bathroom floor.
I heard Brad come in and I could hear him talking to Alex through the walls but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Alex had seemed sober enough and I tried to think of why he had called his father when he could have just gone home with his friend. That had to mean that something else had happened and that Alex had not told me what it was.
“Gracie? Gracie? Let’s try to get you to your bed, okay?”
“Okay,” she said and then she started to cry. “Oh, God, I hate those boys! Redneck assholes!”
“Do you want to tell me what happened, Gracie? Or do you want to tell me in the morning?”
“Tomorrow, ’kay? Gotta sleep. I feel awful!”
I pulled back her covers and let her tumble into her bed, smoothing her hair away from her face. On another night, I would have been furious with her. But my maternal instincts told me that she had fallen victim to something I hoped Alex could explain.
I turned off the light next to her bed and left her door ajar, so I could listen for her. I tightened my robe and went to face the rest of my Little Night Music.
Brad was in the kitchen leaning against the counter and Alex was leaning in the refrigerator.
“I told him he could have a can of Coke,” Brad said. “How’s Gracie?”
“She’s seen better days,” I said. “So, does somebody want to tell me what’s going on with my daughter?”
“How cold is it in here?” Brad said. “Do you want me to adjust your thermostat?”
On any other occasion I would have read something lewd into that, but this was no time for jokes.
“I’ll do it,” I said, and slid the thermostat bar to the right. “You’re right; it’s freezing.”
Alex closed the refrigerator door, popped open the soda can and cleared his throat. “Ms. Breland? Here’s the story. I know we never should have gone to this guy’s house in the first place, but we did and I just want to say that I apologize for taking Gracie there.”
“Your apology is accepted,” I said, thinking this was a very formal sentiment for a young man of his age.
“Yes, ma’am, I appreciate it. You see, there were about fifty or a hundred kids there . . .”
“Where was the house? And, whose house was it?”
“Uh, well, the house was out Mathis Ferry Road, in one of those subdivisions and I don’t know who owned it . . . one of the guys who plays defense for Wando. His parents were out of town.”
“That figures,” Brad said. “Linda, do you want coffee or anything?”
“No, it’s late, but thanks.”
“Anyway, what happens is one cell phone calls another cell phone and the next thing you know there are cars and people coming from all over, looking for a party,” Alex said. “Somebody brings vodka and somebody else has beer and then some idiot has pot and another one has something else . . . you get the picture, right?”
“I think we get the picture,” I said. “So how come you’re straight and Gracie’s in the state she’s in?”
“Because I didn’t stay with her and when the house got crowded, we got separated. Some girl said to her, Come on to the kitchen. Somebody brought jots and brownies.”
“Jots?” I said.
“Yeah, you mix like cherry Jell-O with vodka or rum and jell it in these little plastic cups. So, Gracie must have had a bunch of them and eaten some brownies too.”
“The brownies were loaded with pot,” Brad said.
“Did you eat any brownies?” I said.
“No way,” Alex said, “I had six tacos before we got there. I wasn’t hungry. If I hadn’t been stuffed, I might have though.”
“Did Gracie know they had pot in them?” I asked.
“No. I’m sure of that. Ms. Breland, look, Gracie and I are new at Wando. Those girls never said a word—not that I heard anyway. They don’t like Gracie because she’s good-looking and she’s got this big personality and they’re just a bunch of jealous bit—”
“Alex!” Brad said.
“Sorry,” Alex said. “Anyway, if I want to get tanked, I’ll do it with Dad. If I get caught drinking, I can’t play ball. And, I don’t know all these people yet, so I don’t trust them. Dad says you never drink with people you don’t trust. I mean, Gracie’s different. She thinks everybody’s nice and all.”
“And, they’re not,” I said.
“That’s right. They sure are not. That’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way. When I was in Atlanta, I wanted to join this club in school. And to get in you had to shoplift something. So I took this DVD from this store and got caught. The one time I did something like that in my life and I got caught. It was pretty . . . well, it was terrible for my mom. I could’ve gotten kicked outta school, but I didn’t because my mom went down there and begged and I had never been in any trouble before. . . .”
There was silence for a moment as Brad and I let Alex reli
ve the moment and think about his mother. We were not surprised to see him get choked up as he tried to continue. It was high time he showed some emotion.
“Then Mom got killed and I just couldn’t believe it. She was still pissed off at me and had just screamed at me for the hundredth time right before she left the house . . . it was raining and I told her to be careful and she gave me this look, this look like she hated me and . . . and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. . . .” Alex’s voice trailed off into a whisper.
“Alex, you never told me that,” Brad said. “But, I can promise you your mother did not hate you. She loved you very—”
“I know, I know. It was just a lousy coincidence or something. Anyway, that’s when I learned the awful truth about life being unpredictable and all. Oh, hell, and the next thing I know I’m in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina? I mean, where the hell am I?”
Alex’s face was filled with anxiety. Brad put his arm around Alex’s shoulder and hugged him. Alex crumbled into a mass of tears and sighs. The poor kid. He had been carrying all his grief and trying to be so stoic. Kids weren’t supposed to have to be so strong all by themselves.
“I’m sorry, I just . . .”
“Alex,” I said. “Please don’t worry about it. . . .”
I grabbed a tissue and handed it to him.
“It’s okay, son,” Brad said.
Alex blew his nose and took another tissue and blew his nose again.
“Anyway, Gracie needs someone to look out for her and I was supposed to be that person tonight and I didn’t do a very good job and that’s why I stayed around here . . . to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“Why did you call your dad? I mean, you could’ve had that other kid take you home.”
“Because Gracie had me scared. You know? I mean, she could’ve dropped a bunch of bad acid or X for all I knew and I got scared. I always, well now anyway, I call my dad.”
I could hardly believe my ears. The teenagers I knew hid everything they could from their parents. Here was this kid who fessed up and took the rap when I wasn’t going to blame him anyway. But Alex had been thoroughly traumatized by his mother’s death. I could see that he was suffering from trying to be perfect—the perfect son, the perfect friend, and the all-around perfect kid.