Lowcountry Summer (43 page)

“There’s a lot to chew on, Millie,” I said.

“Humph. You’re telling me? You know, I can use all them petals for my root work.” Millie winked at us and went to the door. “Make up some sachet for all the closets, too! Mix ’em up with some lavender?”

“Keeps the moths at bay, right?”

“That’s right. See? You’re learning!”

“Learning? Sometimes I wonder if I ever learn a thing,” I said. “I’ll be along shortly.” I knew my day would be spent restoring the garden, pinching back the tiny heads so the bushes would produce the largest blooms. With any luck, they would all be flowering in two weeks. Maybe
Southern Living
would come back then.

Trip smiled, sort of, and then said, “Look, Caroline. I don’t blame you for thinking it was Frances Mae. I thought she did it, too, especially after all the brouhaha at dinner last night. And after what she did to those poor innocent billboards, I knew she didn’t have a problem with a certain amount of vandalism. Believe it or not, she doesn’t fault you for thinking it was her.”

“Well, that’s mighty
F
-ing nice of her,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. And we’re
gonna
get to the bottom of this. If Linnie’s the cause for this? She’ll be digging onions in Georgia by next week.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re really Mr. Tough Love with her.”

“No, I’m not Mr. Tough Love with any of my kids. Never have been. That’s why I need Frances Mae, Caroline. And those girls need her. They got Litchfield blood and there isn’t anyone who can keep them in line except another Litchfield.”

“Send them back to Walterboro.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that and I wouldn’t blame you for that either. But we’re gonna try something different this time because the girls need two parents. This is a chance to see if we—Frances Mae and I, that is—to see if we can straighten them out, get them into good colleges and into the world to make something out of themselves.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not buying this. Sorry, Trip. Sorry.” Rusty had only been dead for a few weeks. Wasn’t this like, I don’t know, too soon to have another woman in his life?

“Look, I told Frances Mae in no uncertain terms. I said, ‘Listen, Caroline’s my sister and she’s my family. I’m not going to have y’all fighting like two cats in a bag every time I turn around.’ I told her, Caroline, I mean I laid down the law. If she wants to be with me, she is to be polite to you. You are my only sister, I love you very much, and I have lived here for the last ten years because of your generosity. She needs to think about that and be grateful.”

“When hell freezes. She wouldn’t show an ounce of gratitude to me if her very life depended on it.”

“Well, she will now.”

“We’ll see about that. Look, I don’t want to fight with her, Trip. It’s just that I can’t stand her because she’s
so
offensive and rude. You heard what she said about Eric last night, didn’t you? She’s horrible!”

“Yeah, and then we all heard what you said about my girls. Not nice, sister.”

“Excuse me, but you said nothing to stop Frances Mae and she started it in the first place!”

“Um, two wrongs don’t make a right, do they?”

“Oh, Trip. This is just all so wrong.”

“I’m not saying this isn’t a little screwed up, but this is the solution I have chosen for the time being because I believe it’s in the best interest of my girls. Not
my
best interest, but my
girls’
best interest. I would be really grateful if you would support me in this because it’s taking all the strength I have to try and work this out.”

“Tell me why you’re really doing this, Trip. Gimme the real reason, okay?”

“The real reason? Okay, here it is. I saw Chloe scream with joy when Frances Mae showed up. I saw Linnie, Belle, and Amelia run to their mother and throw their arms around her and they cried tears of happiness. Real tears. Spontaneous tears. Caroline, do you know how powerful that is? And then they
begged
me,
they all begged me
to try again. You may think I’m weak and you may think it’s the wrong decision, but if you were in my position? I would have loved to see you just try to say no.”

“She’s going to drive you out of your mind, Trip.”

“Maybe,” he said, and smiled. “But it will get me back to work, if nothing else.”

“See? You can’t live with her and you know it. Honest to God, Trip. She is the crassest and most disgusting woman I have ever known.” I looked at him then and he seemed angry. “Sorry, but she is.”

“Caroline? This is where I draw the line with you, okay? I just asked you for your support. You’re going to have to stop making derogatory remarks about Frances Mae.”

“Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sorry one damn teensy bit and he could see it on my face.

“Look, you can think whatever you want. Just don’t say it, okay? Please?”

Was I capable of not criticizing Frances Mae after all these years of feeding my one and only indulgence? It was seriously doubtful. And it was equally doubtful that Frances Mae would be able to control her tongue either.

“You can tell Frances Mae I’m calling a truce for the moment. If she behaves herself, so will I.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Trip? Does letting Frances Mae back into your life have anything to do with Rusty dying?”

“Only in that I know I’ve had the love of my life and lost her and that I will never feel that way about a woman again. So, what the hell? I may as well try and right some wrongs, you know, be a better parent?”

“Are you viewing this as some kind of penance? You can’t be serious! And what are you going to do when Chloe goes to college in ten years? Are you really going to spend the rest of your life with Frances Mae?”

“Who knows, but do you know the line in that old song, ‘It’s cheaper to keep her?’ ”

“Oh! Trip! Come on!”

“Caroline, I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

I was incredulous.

“It’s your life, Trip.”

“Yes, it is. Now, I’m going home to have a serious chat with your namesake, Miss Linnie.” He stood up and tucked in his shirt. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anytime,” I said, and closed the door behind him, wondering if he was telling me the truth. Maybe I was being gullible to consider believing he was taking Frances Mae back for the right reasons, but I just wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about many things.

I made my phone calls for the morning, including one to the magazine. The editor said no problem, they’d check back with me in ten days to see if I had any blooming roses to shoot.

“You’re very kind,” I said. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Believe it or not, Ms. Levine, this has happened before, but it was another rosarian who did it out of jealousy.”

“Good grief!” I said.

“Yes, ma’am! It’s a crazy world out there.”

I wanted to say,
Listen, baby, I could tell you stories that would curl your hair
. But I didn’t. I thanked the woman on the other end of the phone again and hung up.

I spent the rest of the morning assessing the damage to my poor roses and cleaning up the ground and the bushes with Millie and Mr. Jenkins. We filled a dozen brown paper bags with rose heads and another dozen with clippings.

“See this, y’all?” I called them to have a look. Every cut mark was made by clippers, not scissors. And they were made on a slant, just as a professional or someone who knew about roses would do. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that this had been done by a landscaper.

“You’re right, Caroline. Don’t you think so, Mr. Jenkins?”

Mr. Jenkins looked at Millie, glowing with affection.

“Mrs. Smoak? I think you’re so pretty in the sunshine, I could give you a kiss right here and now!”

He moved toward her and she jumped back.

“Oh! Stop, you old fool! Go on now!” Millie said, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Don’t listen to him, Caroline! He’s crazy as a bedbug!”

“Oh, let him kiss you, Millie!”

“That’s right! I could go any minute from natural causes!” he said.

“He’s a devil, ’eah?” Millie said.

I wondered for a brief moment how successful he was in the bedroom. I know. I’m gross.

Finally, when the sun was directly overhead and frying my scalp, I admitted to myself that it was too hot to work. I went back to the house for lunch and made a tomato sandwich just like the one I had yesterday. If anybody wants to know what they eat in heaven? Tell them vine-ripened tomatoes with a liberal smear of mayonnaise on white bread, salted and peppered. Wash it down with a big glass of sweet tea over ice and a sprig of mint. Food just doesn’t get any better than that. Pork included.

Right after one, Matthew called.

“Want to have dinner? I’ve got some steaks.”

“Sure. Why not?”

“How’s seven?”

“Perfect. The bugs will be gone and we can eat on the veranda.”

“Any news on the Rose Murderer?”

“Not so far. I think we all know what happened, though.”

“Yeah. My money’s on Eric’s theory. What a smart kid.”

“Thanks, darlin’!”

I was so glad to know Matthew would be there to end the day. I checked the pantry. I had potatoes to bake and somewhere there was a bottle of red wine. I had not seen Eric all day and I just assumed he was coming home for supper, so I set the table for three.

Later on in the afternoon, Eric drifted in wearing swim trunks and a T-shirt with flip-flops. He was turning a golden brown and the hair on his arms was bleached white. He and his cousins had probably spent the whole day by the pool, listening to music and ragging on the older generation. I remembered those days of small acts of rage against the establishment with a special fondness. I sighed hard then thinking about the world Eric and Trip’s girls would eventually enter, one by one. It would be unknown to me, to Trip, to all of us. Advances in medicine, technology, communications, and all the other fields that seem to prop up the world will be as familiar to them as their own names and all these advances will render us, the elders, dinosaurs. What a thought.

The first place he went was the refrigerator as though that’s where we hid the money.

“We got anything to drink?”

“There’s a pitcher of tea right in front of you. So, how are the girls?” I asked.

“Do you mean, did Linnie confess?”

“No, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, it will all be made clear in due time,” I said.

“Or not,” Eric said. “I mean, Mom, even if that guy Antonio did it, why would Linnie tell you? I’m gonna go wash off all the sweat. We sat by the pool for like hours.”

As I dressed for dinner I thought about what Eric had said about Linnie. Why would she admit it, even if she knew? He was right.

It was a perfectly gorgeous Lowcountry evening. Although the sun had already slipped into its sleeping place, the sky was streaked with the most beautiful colors—dark peach that bled into red the color of rubies and slivers of purple, like regal stripes on the robes of a queen. It was impossible not to stare until it all disappeared and night overtook the day.

About half an hour earlier, while there was plenty of light, Eric and Matthew decided to take a walk down by the river. Matthew wanted to talk and Eric wanted to show him some new gadget, a depth finder, I think, that Trip had gotten for his boat. I was fussing around with the table, making sure I had everything that we needed out there for dinner. No, I had thought of it all and I was pretty pleased with myself. Since Millie wasn’t around—she and Mr. Jenkins actually went to the movies together to see some animated film about penguins—I was on my own to test my domestic and culinary mettle. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why I was always so insecure about my abilities in the kitchen. Maybe it was because I wanted to be a great cook, not just a capable one.

The grill was ready and I looked up to see Eric and Matthew ambling along the path, returning for dinner. I liked the sight of them together. They were good company for each other and I especially liked the way Matthew treated Eric. He made him feel whole. Come to think of it, he made me feel pretty much the same way. Whole. I felt something wobble in my throat. Nerves, I guess. I was in love with the man and not sure what to do about it.

I was struggling with the corkscrew, pushing the cork farther and farther into the neck of the bottle, except for the chunk that I pulled out when the cork broke into two pieces.

“I’m such a spaz!” I said. “Help!” I called to them.

“You want me to open that bottle of wine?” Matthew called out. “Hang on for a minute!”

I threw my arms up in surrender. He rushed up and took the whole mess away from me and removed the rest of the cork easily. Eric went into the house.

“Wow,” I said.

“You do realize this is the second time I’ve rescued you today?”