Sweet Carolina Morning (11 page)

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Authors: Susan Schild

BOOK: Sweet Carolina Morning
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Grinning, Linny and Neal swung into action. Together, they pulled the tarp off the fire pit and positioned it, circled up lawn chairs, lit lanterns and candles, and hauled out an old card table to use as a serving area. Linny saw the sparkle in Neal's eyes and broke into a smile. They were about to pull off a fine caper.
* * *
Later, after their al fresco supper, they sat around the crackling fire pit, draped in blankets, mesmerized by the dancing flames and glowing embers.
“That was a fine supper,” Jack said, but then groaned softly. “I shouldn't have eaten so much.”
Linny leaned over to pat his stomach. “You're allowed, birthday boy.” The potpie had been a two helping success, and they'd all eaten way more coconut cake with vanilla ice cream topping than they should have. She'd eat celery and broth tomorrow.
Neal adjusted the blanket around his shoulders. “We look like a tribe of Native Americans. The Cherokee and the Tuscarora had settlements here from 1861 to 1890,” Neal announced and yawned. “I'm toasty,” he said, sounding drowsy.
“Me too.” Linny's knee tingled where it touched Jack's. Closing her eyes, she luxuriated in the bone-warming heat thrown by the sparking logs.
His face lit golden by the flames, Jack looked at each of them, his eyes warm. “This fire pit is great. This is one of my best birthdays. Thank you both.” He rose and, with a poker, pushed apart what remained of the stacked logs so they'd burn down and put on the wire mesh top. “I've got to run down to the barn to check on one of the horses that's looking colicky. Neal, you can call your mama and start to get ready for bed. It's been a long day.”
“I'll clean up,” Linny offered, slipping off her blanket, reluctant to leave the lovely fire.
* * *
After finishing in the kitchen, Linny curled up on the sofa with a blanket and a book while Jack said good night to his son. When he walked into the living room, she sent him a twinkly smile. “Hey, you,” she said softly.
“Hey, yourself,” he said in his rich, gravelly voice. Sliding onto the end of the couch, he lifted her feet, put them on his lap, and began to rub them.
She groaned with pleasure, but when she glimpsed his face, her heart squeezed. It was hard, and the muscle in his jaw worked. Pulling her feet from his lap, Linny sat up. “What's going on?” she asked more sharply than she'd intended.
“Aw, nothing,” he said, and tried to grasp her foot back to continue the rub.
“Jack, we're working on being straight with each other,” she reminded him.
He raked a hand through his hair and looked disgusted. “Got curious about Neal's asking you money questions.” He blew out a breath and gazed at her apologetically. “Turns out, Vera's been talking bad about you to Neal.”
Linny shook her head, feeling her face flame. Recalling the rest of the money conversation in the truck, she asked, “Is that why he asked about trailer trash? Vera called me that, right?”
Jack nodded slowly. “Right, and she told Neal that you're poor and are marrying me for my money.”
Linny rubbed her eyes with her fingers, hot anger searing her stomach. “So, we're taking the high road with her, not talking about her throwing dishes or being late or bragging or acting controlling about money . . .” she sputtered.
“I know,” Jack said mildly and held up his hands in surrender. “You tell me what to do, because I can't think of one way to stop her.”
“Neal's having a hard enough time with this situation without her stirring up trouble,” Linny said hotly. “Can't you talk to her?”
“I have. Many times.” Jack's voice was flat.
Linny stared at him, absorbing what he'd said. “She's said other rotten things about me in front of Neal?”
Jack looked grim. “Not just about you—about us. I haven't told you some things because I knew it'd upset you.”
“Stop doing that, Jack. I don't do well with men who don't tell me the whole truth,” Linny said, more fiercely than she'd intended. “We're in this together.”
He nodded in agreement. “Sorry, Lin.”
“Can you talk with the attorney? Aren't there rules about this sort of thing? Can you appeal to Chaz?” Linny shot out questions, feeling her shoulders hunch up around her ears.
“You and I both want this stopped,” Jack agreed wearily. “But the best thing may be to just ignore it.”
“But . . . but . . .” Linny stared at him disbelievingly. Ignoring it was his solution?
He looked away for a moment and then said thoughtfully, “Maybe she says things like that to stir things up here. Maybe she's counting on it getting to us and causing trouble. Let's try not to let it.” Jack stroked her arm and said, “Let's talk about it tomorrow. We're all tired, and we can't solve anything tonight.”
Linny gazed at him, trying to decide if he was wise in an Andy of Mayberry way or just too chicken to fight. She nodded reluctantly.
He shook his head and gave a glimmer of a smile. “You know how literal Neal can be. Vera may have used the term
gold digger
. . .”
Linny stiffened, feeling her anger flare again.
Jack held up a placating hand. “When he and I talked just now, he asked me—in all seriousness—if you were a metallurgist or geologist.”
Linny cocked a brow at him and tried to hold on to her anger but burst out laughing.
“Bless his little scientist heart,” Jack said chuckling, looking relieved at the lightened mood.
When her laughter subsided, she gazed at him and with veed fingers pointed to her eyes and then to his. “I'm watching you, Jack Avery. You need to stay on top of this.” She breathed out and gave him a conciliatory smile. “How you want to handle it is your call, but Vera seems to have too big a bone to pick to just stop causing trouble if we ignore her.”
He nodded solemnly. “We'll see.”
She gazed at him coolly for a moment and lifted her chin. “I still like you even though you're being reasonable.”
Jack gave her a wry smile and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Wait here and shut your eyes,” she said abruptly and rose. A moment later, she slipped the guitar into his arms, barely able to contain her excitement. “You can open your eyes.” Rocking back on her heels and grinning, she watched as his face lit up and his fingers curled around the neck of the guitar. He strummed it and fixed her with a look of pure pleasure.
“It was my daddy's,” she said, suddenly feeling shy. “Jerry had a friend who tuned it.”
“Aw, Lin . . .” he trailed off, cradling the guitar and staring out the window behind her.
Linny saw he was blinking back tears and her own eyes welled up. Leaning over to hug his neck, she breathed him in and kissed him. Softly, she said, “You said it was too late, Jack, but it's never too late to be happy.”
* * *
Tuesday evening, Linny and Mary Catherine were the only two in the steam room. Linny retucked her towel, inhaled the warm eucalyptus mist, and felt the knots in her shoulders loosen. Peering through the dense fog at the blurred outline of her friend, she said, “Thank you for inviting me. This is such a treat.”
Mary Catherine's voice floated over to her. “Glad you could make it. It'd be tragic to let these Bar Association coupons expire.”
The steam cycled down and Linny could see her again. “Give me the CliffsNotes for what's going on with you.”
“Work is crazy.” Mary Catherine blew out a breath. “I've got a big hearing Thursday. If the judge rules right, he'll give the dad full custody and the kids would be the big winners.”
“You'll do great,” Linny said confidently. “What else? How are the men?”
Mary Catherine brushed damp bangs back from her face. “Dare is finally buckling down at school and Mike still loves his teaching. Since he left engineering, he's a happy guy.”
“Great,” Linny said but heard a subtext and gazed at her friend questioningly. “And . . . ?”
Mary Catherine shook her head ruefully. “It's hard to get used to him happy. He was down while he was laid off. I get that. But this new Mike is making me think he must have been unhappy in his work his whole career. He's cheerful, he makes corny jokes, and he walks around with a little smile on his face.” She drew her lips back, gave a toothy smile, and shuddered. “It's disturbing.”
Linny laughed and mulled it over. Mike was a wry, quietly funny guy with twinkly eyes. “I can't picture him smiling all the time,” she admitted. “I'll bet it's an adjustment.”
“It is,” Mary Catherine said darkly. “Sometimes I just pinch him and tell him to cut it out.”
“Good,” Linny said encouragingly.
The steam billowed, and Mary Catherine waved a hand in front of her face. “Can we go? I'm poaching.”
Linny nodded her agreement and pushed open the door.
After the two exchanged towels for robes, Linny sank into a wicker chaise lounge and put a cool cloth behind her neck. “Lovely.”
Mary Catherine sipped cucumber water and glanced at her. “Want your next two what-not-to-do tips? Lately, I've had some doozy clients who've given me good ideas for you.”
Linny borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from one of the attendants, sat back down, and gazed at her friend expectantly. “Shoot.”
Mary Catherine squinted off into the distance. “One: Don't assume the biological parent should handle all the discipline, especially because Neal is going to be with you half the time. Jack needs to take the lead, but he needs to make it clear to Neal that you're in charge when he's not there and that he expects Neal to hop to when you say to.” She paused to take another sip of water.
Linny scribbled as quickly as she could, her head bobbing in agreement. “That is so true. Last week I asked Neal to feed the dogs when Jack wasn't home yet and he said he would. An hour or so later the dogs started pacing and whining, and I realized Neal hadn't fed them. He was caught up in a computer game.” She felt a flush of anger just remembering it. “I talked to him about dogs depending on humans for survival and he shrugged. He shrugged!” she said indignantly.
“You need to fix that,” Mary Catherine said brusquely and continued. “Two: Don't let the ex-wife worm her way into your family and cause trouble.” She shook her head ruefully. “I've had male clients whose ex-wives kept calling every time a toilet got clogged or the air in the car's tires got low. The poor saps kept running over to help out until their new wives complained and they finally had the guts to say no.” Mary Catherine steepled her fingers together and looked thoughtful. “Sometimes the exes use the kids to insert themselves into your marriage. They'll call every time a child misbehaves, that sort of thing.” She gave a dismissive wave. “Just set good boundaries.”
“Man oh man, you are good.” Linny shook her head. She relayed the story of Vera's attempt to strong-arm Jack into spending thousands to outfit Neal for the Vail trip.
“You all did good.” Mary Catherine nodded and looked thoughtful. “When she tries to intrude, you all need to close ranks, just like what you did with the ski trip.” She snorted. “Figures Vera would like Vail. Movie stars in fur coats, the beautiful people, photo ops.” She shook her head in disgust, adding, “It was in my
Star
magazine last month.”
Linny laughed and then grew serious. “Thanks for the advice. I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Mary Catherine gave a dismissive shrug. “Take it with a grain of salt. Remember, I'm the woman who pinches her husband for being happy.”
C
HAPTER
9
A Bowl of Cherries
T
he next morning Linny glanced at the clock as she finished drying her hair. In just a few minutes Kate would be at the house to join her for a morning walk and, later, another Skype call with Mama. Linny was smoothing on sunscreen when Roy and Curtis burst into a cacophony of barking. “Settle down, boys,” Linny shushed them as she swung open the door.
Looking as fresh-faced and dewy as the girl in the Olay commercial, Kate beamed and gave her a hug. “Another morning I wasn't sick! It's a miracle,” she announced.
“I'm glad.” Linny grinned and pulled on her jacket.
Linny and Kate started down the long gravel driveway as Roy and Curtis tore off into the underbrush, sniffing and pacing with their noses to the ground.
“Deer and foxes. It's a regular parade after dusk,” Linny said, linking her arm with Kate's. The two walked in silence for a few minutes, taking in the scalloped pink sky, the bracing gusts of wind, and the smell of burning leaves.
Linny nudged her sister with an elbow. “Give me an update on all the doctor's appointments.”
She gave a happy sigh. “Dr. Grace is happy with how the pregnancy is going. All the fetal milestones are good. My blood pressure is back to normal and the morning sickness just disappeared.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.” She gave a happy little sigh. “I was looking at the latest ultrasound pictures this morning. He's just such a little
guy
.”
“It's so exciting. I can't wait.” Linny squeezed her arm and shivered as she thought about it.
Kate went on. “I can't wait to hold that baby and to smell him. Don't you love how babies smell?” she asked dreamily.
“For the most part.” Linny hid her smile, recalling a fragrant moment or two with Dare when he was a baby. “Is Jerry ready?” she asked.
Kate shook her head ruefully. “Typical nervous first-time father. Yesterday he made me go on two practice runs with him to Raleigh Memorial. He had us lie down in bed and pretend we were asleep and he hit the button on his fancy wristwatch to start the timer. Then we sprang into action. The second run, we made it in eighteen minutes, but he says, ‘Faster, Kate. We can shave off time. Babies wait for no man.'” She cocked her head. “I think he learned that phrase from the guys in our Lamaze class.”
“Yikes,” Linny said, grinning.
Kate held up a finger. “But there's more. Two guys who work for him have Harleys and want to give us a motorcycle escort to Memorial.” She raised her eyes to heaven. “They made him promise to call them as soon as we know it's time.”
Linny laughed. “Those guys are crazy, and they sure do love Jerry.”
“They do.” Kate nodded, and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. “How are Jack and Neal doing?”
Linny filled her in on the trailer trash/gold digger conversation, trying to sound mature and reasonable like Jack.
But her sister's mouth dropped open. “I can't believe that little snip! And to say it in front of that sweet boy, when you've been trying so hard with him . . .”
Linny saw the two red circles that flamed on her sister's cheeks whenever she got mad and felt mollified. “I considered putting a dead fish in her car, but Jack says she's trying to create chaos and we're going to try not to let her.”
Kate paused to pick up a log-size stick to toss to the delighted dogs. She turned to Linny and gave her a level gaze. “He may be exactly right.”
“I know,” Linny said grudgingly and kicked at a rock.
“One day Neal's going to be old enough to recognize some of her bad behavior,” she said and nodded sagely.
The two paused to watch several gray doves burst up from the tall grass and flutter off, while Roy and Curtis danced around, barking their heads off even though they weren't even close.
“On a happier note, we need to find you a wedding dress. So we need one that's suitable for a backyard wedding and works for horseback riding and zip lining?” Kate asked, her head sparkling.
“Just riding. Only Neal will be zipping,” Linny clarified, frowning. What in the world would they come up with?
“Ah.” Starting to huff and puff, Kate slowed her pace. “Let's look for dresses later this week. We need something simple, elegant: Vera Wang meets Ralph Lauren.”
“In a palazzo pant so I can ride,” Linny added drily. Glancing at her sister's eager face, she knew Kate would nix her latest idea of wearing jeans or a black pantsuit. Stopping at her red mailbox to gather an armful of junk mail, she said, “We need to scoot. Mama'll be calling in ten minutes.”
After hoofing it back to the little aqua trailer, Linny dumped the mail on the counter and poured glasses of water for her and Kate. The dogs were thirsty, too, and Linny grinned as she watched them sloppily lap from their bowls.
Kate sprawled on the sofa on her side, and Roy scrambled up beside her. While her sister talked sugar to the dog, Linny got her tablet and sat on the floor beside her. Propping the tablet on a pillow in her lap, she angled the screen so Kate could see it.
When the Skype tone rang, they smiled and looked at the screen expectantly.
This morning Dottie wore a coral-colored scarf tied casually around her neck and her face was radiant. “You'll never believe what happened, girls. You just won't believe it.”
“Tell us,” Kate said, shooting Linny a worried look.
“You know how I never win anything—not the church raffles for the quilts, not the Publishers Clearing House, not those magazine contests I enter in
Good Housekeeping
and
Southern Living
. . .” She paused to catch her breath.
A man's voice urged, “Just tell them, honey. You're scaring them.”
Beaming, Dottie announced, “Well, we won!”
“Good, Mama,” Linny said encouragingly, imagining a plastic gold trophy for a rumba contest or a cubic zirconia necklace door prize at the Precious Jewelry at Sea show.
“Who won what?” Kate asked, bumping Linny with her shoulder to peer at the screen.
Her mother shook her head, her eyes wide. “Mack and I won fifty thousand dollars on the nickel slots.”
Linny gasped almost at the same moment Kate did.
“Hi, girls.” Mack's head appeared on the screen and he waved at them. He gazed at Dottie, patted her shoulder gently, and clarified, “Actually, honey, we won five hundred thousand dollars.”
Dottie put her hands up to her cheeks. “I'm so excited, I got my zeros mixed up. We did! We won five hundred thousand dollars on six straight-across cherries! I'll tell you all about it when we get home tomorrow. Mack says don't let the word out or folks we don't know will be turning up at our door asking for money.” She laughed gaily.
Of course he'd want her to keep it quiet. Linny elbowed her sister.
Kate rubbed her arm and shot her an indignant look. “What?” she whispered.
“You girls know, there's a bit of truth to that,” Mack said soberly and rubbed a spot between his eyebrows. “They wanted to make a big to-do about it at the casino, but I suggested we not allow that.”
“Good idea,” Linny said, staring intently at his image on the screen. She searched for signs of his gigolo hood: a flashy, diamond man necklace or dyed black hair. All she saw was a clean-shaven, pleasant-looking man like the one in blood pressure medicine commercials taking his grandson fishing. Her eyes narrowed. The kind-looking ones were sometimes the worst.
Dottie went on. “Remember, our flight comes home Thursday at four-ten. Will you still be able to meet us?”
“Kate's got a doctor's appointment, but I'll be there,” Linny said smiling. “I wouldn't miss it!”
After the call ended Kate crossed her arms and shot Linny a reproving look. “What is wrong with you? Why are you so upset about such a lovely thing happening to Mama?”
Linny cocked her brow. “How do two people win at a nickel slot machine? Only one nickel goes in at a time, right?”
Kate exhaled noisily and pushed herself up from the couch. “I'm sure we'll hear a logical explanation for it when Mama gets home.”
“That Mack is going to try to take advantage of Mama. She'll end up in the poorhouse, or worse . . .” she muttered darkly. “Last week I saw a show where a man preyed on lonely widows, married eight of them at the same time, and smothered them one by one.”
Kate gazed at her and raised a brow. “Sweets, I hate that you married a man who cheated and lied and stole your money, but not all men are like that. Mack seems nice, and Mama's not foolish.” She patted her arm. “You need to stop watching those crime shows. Really, you do.”
“All right, all right,” Linny said. Still, she had a few questions for benign-looking Maximillian aka Mack, if that really was his name.
A few moments later Kate gathered her coat and purse. Linny stood on the porch and waved as she drove off. She smiled when she saw Kate's latest bumper sticker:
Don't Make Me Use My Teacher Voice.
In the kitchen she picked up her phone and checked messages. She had a new voice mail and entered her password. She drew in her breath as she recognized Ceecee's voice.
In a buttery drawl, her future mother-in-law said, “Good morning, Linny darling. Rush and I would be so honored if you'd let us throw a little party for you before your wedding. I know you two are iffy about the actual date.” She paused meaningfully. “But when you do decide, will you please let me know just as soon as possible? I've been having so much fun thinking about themes and menus! You know, I have had quite a bit of experience in party planning,” she trilled. “I was a two-time chairwoman for the SPCA Puparazzi Charity Ball, and I've planned one other wedding, too. . . .” Ceecee trailed off, gave a meaningful little cough, and picked up steam again. “A few days ago I mailed you a package of my ideas. Take a look-see and let me know what you think. I don't want you to have to you worry about a thing, what with your little career keeping you so busy. Ta-ta, darling.”
One other wedding. Your little career.
Linny felt herself flush with irritation. This was her third whirl with mothers-in-law and it was always dicey, especially right at the beginning. Her first mother-in-law, Lauralee, had sweetly tried to strong-arm Linny into wearing the butt-ugly, mutton-sleeved gown she'd worn at her own wedding, and Linny's second mother-in-law, Sherry, had worn a backless, low-cut white gown to Linny's wedding to Buck. An emergency back-up bride, presumably.
Hurrying to the counter, Linny flipped through the pizza coupons and catalogues and plucked out a fat white mailing envelope from Ceecee that was addressed in a loopy but perfect cursive. Taking a deep breath, Linny opened it and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
The first flyer featured an abnormally handsome man passionately kissing a woman on a wooden motor launch speeding by gondolas on what had to be the Grand Canal. The sticky note atop it read,
Nuptials in Venice? Very Amal and George. So romantic!!
Linny rolled her eyes, and flipped to the next. On a picture of Highclere castle, Ceecee's note read,
Lady Mary/Lady Rose/
Downton Abbey
theme? Elegant!
Linny groaned. So much for simple.
The top half of the next page featured a male skater in an outfit that bulged around his manly parts. He was tossing his spangled wisp of a partner in the air. The bottom half of the page featured Omar Sharif in a fur hat, his eyes smoldering as he gazed at Julie Christie. The sticky note read,
Winter Olympics
/Dr. Zhivago
theme? Even though spring or summer wedding (please let me know date as soon as possible!), we could improvise: horse-drawn sleigh (only on wagon wheels) and lightweight fur hats (faux, of course).
Good Lord. Linny stopped reading and rubbed a spot between her eyebrows. Jack had told her Ceecee had been spellbound by the Olympics in Sochi and was counting the days until the Winter Games in PyeongChang in 2018. But it was her and Jack's wedding! She shook her head, amazed at Ceecee, but pictured a linen/cotton blend fur hat and started to chuckle.
Speed reading the final suggestions, Linny saw the brochure from St. Alban's Episcopal Church, where she'd already been married once before. The note read,
Have you thought about a church wedding? This is such a darling-looking chapel!
Linny tapped the brochure on the counter and blew out a breath. Rattled, she had one crazy thought after another. Maybe the church gave discounts for repeat brides. Maybe she could use her old wedding pictures of her and Andy and Photoshop in a new groom. Linny shook her head. It was going to be hard to snatch the reins back from strong-willed Ceecee. She hated to bother Jack at work, but she needed a reality check. She found her phone and called his inside line.
After two rings he picked up, sounding harried. “Hey, Lin. What's up?”
Her voice went up an octave. “Your mama is planning a Kardashian-style engagement party for us, and my mama and a mysterious stranger won five hundred thousand dollars on the nickel slots.”
Jack whistled. “Whoa. Big news on the mama front today.”
He was irritatingly calm. “But, Jack . . .” Linny started to explain the gravity of the situations but stopped when she heard voices in the background and a dog howling.
Briskly, Jack said, “Lin, I've got to go. Surgery. We'll talk tonight. Honey, try not to worry.”
Easy for him to say. Linny ended the call. Turning to the dogs snoozing back to back on the kitchen floor, she put a hand on her hip and called to them, “We won't let anyone hijack our wedding or our mama, right, boys?” Both dogs raised their heads, and gazed at her with liquid brown eyes, seeming to telegraph their agreement.

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