Sweet Carolina Morning (17 page)

Linny nodded sagely. Jack's neck had been scruffy when she met him. “He's not only cute, he's nice. It's funny how you mostly stop noticing men when you're in love, but I noticed him, too,” Linny admitted. She tapped a finger to her mouth and gazed out at the tree line. “Do we know any single women we could fix him up with?”

Mary Catherine paused for a moment and sent Linny a wicked smile. “Diamond?”

Linny hooted with laughter but considered the match. Linny owed Diamond one, big-time. Butch seemed capable and an almost courtly guy, but was he strong enough to handle a woman like Diamond? John Wayne and brainy Barbie? Who knew? Linny made a mental note to try some matchmaking.

Mary Catherine turned the cart into a clearing at the first shooting station. The two of them stepped up to the wooden deck. “You go first,” Linny insisted. Mary Catherine nodded and loaded the shells into the gun. Linny picked up the trap control and plugged it in, her hands slippery with sweat. Her nervousness was back.

Mary Catherine hefted the shotgun to her shoulder. “Pull,” she called. The orange clay flew up toward the trees and she squeezed the trigger. Bam.

Linny gave a small shriek when the gun fired and glanced at her friend, hoping she hadn't heard her.

But Mary Catherine just gave Linny a delighted smile. “Man. That was loud, and it kicks you like crazy, but it was fun!”

“You were close,” Linny lied encouragingly. She'd shut her eyes when the gun went off but vowed to watch the next shot.

Mary Katherine widened her stance. “Pull,” she called, tracking the clay with the bead on the gun and squeezing the trigger. Her shot hit the disk and she whooped.

“Good job!” Linny gave her a high five and gingerly took the gun for her turn shooting.

Pushing shells into the chamber, she concentrated hard on trying to recall the instructions Butch had given them. “Pull,” she said in a shaky voice, and the clay was launched. Linny shot, her heart hammering when she saw how close she'd come to shooting the clay launcher. “I'll bet those little machines are expensive,” she said in a thin voice.

“Probably,” Mary Catherine agreed, trying to hide her smile. “Wait a second or two longer to shoot.”

Linny missed the next shot, too, but she gave Mary Catherine a smile. “I kept both eyes open the whole time.”

“Good job,” Mary Catherine said reassuringly as she helped her pop the spent shells from the chamber.

As they tooled along to the next station, another golf cart buzzed along toward them. Mary Catherine eyed the two men in the cart and muttered, “Good grief. Butthead alert.”

“Okay.” Linny slipped on her sunglasses to surreptitiously examine the buttheads.

Mary Catherine assumed the bland expression of a Texas Hold'em player and raised two fingers off the wheel in greeting. “Gentlemen,” she said cordially.

The men called out friendly greetings as they motored by, but Linny didn't like them. One had thin lips that made him look stingy and the other was so square-jawed that he probably thought he looked like a movie star. “They look spoiled or smug to me.”

“Both,” Mary Catherine said. “Add mean and slick and you've nailed it.”

“Who are they?” Linny asked.

“The Weston boys. Two brothers in a family law practice together. Grown-up frat boys,” she added. “Every time I have a case with them, they work at maligning my clients' reputations so their soon-to-be exes don't have to cough up as much money for alimony or support. Last time they had a private investigator take photos of my client hugging a man who was, in fact, her brother she hadn't seen in years. They also get the PI to take shots from angles that make it look like my clients aren't paying attention to the kids or are yelling at them when they're not.” She squinted off into the distance. “Ticks me off. I'm wasting time and my clients' money correcting the impressions they try to create for the judge.”

“Wow. That's playing dirty,” Linny tsked and took a sip from her water bottle. “I thought judges weren't supposed to allow that.”

“They aren't. But they've finessed staying just shy of ticking off the judges.” She shook her head, looking disgusted. “When some clients hear their spouses have signed on with the Westons, they just panic and want to cave rather than risk being dragged through the mud.” Mary Catherine frowned as she steered the cart around a root. “I've got a trial coming up with them and I've got to be smarter and stop playing defense with those boys.”

“How?” Linny leaned closer, not wanting to miss a morsel. Mary Catherine's law practice had more intrigue than the
National Enquirer
.

“Not sure yet, but it'll come to me.” She gave Linny a one-sided smile. “I'm not going to let them ruin the afternoon, though. Onward.” She waved her arm forward in a wagon-ho kind of motion and the cart picked up speed.

Linny laughed and held on tighter to the back of the seat and the grab bar.

At the next station they stood on a platform on a wooden bridge with the targets being tossed against the backdrop of a waterfall tumbling down a rock face.

“Gosh,” Linny said, sighing happily as she spun slowly around to take in the whole view. “Who knew shooting would be so pretty?” She took her turn and missed all her shots but felt bubbling elation. “Did you see that? I almost got a little closer to hitting that last one.”

“You did.” Mary Catherine gave her a thumbs-up.

“That last one hurt.” Linny winced as she rubbed her aching shoulder. “I'm going to sit out the next round.”

Mary Catherine nodded and took her shots, hitting two of the four clays.

Linny clasped her hands together. “I knew you'd be good at this.”

“I'm getting there.” Her friend shrugged nonchalantly but looked pleased.

Back in the cart, they approached the next station just as the Weston brothers pulled in to the clearing from a curve in the trail.

“Dang,” Mary Catherine muttered but gave them a polite nod. “Y'all go ahead. We're new at this and we'll slow you down.”

“Oh, no. Ladies first,” the thin-lipped brother said with an after-you flourishing wave.

“We insist,” Mr. Lantern Jaw added gallantly, but the brothers barely hid smirks that made Linny want to graze them with the golf cart or maybe run over a foot. She smiled picturing that.

“All right.” Mary Catherine grabbed the gun and swung down from her seat, looking relaxed. She strode up to the stand with loose-limbed grace.

Linny followed her, trying to look as nonchalant as Mary Catherine did.

The two men eased back in their seats and crossed their legs languidly, ready for an entertaining show. The vests they wore had shell holders and padded-looking shoulders that Linny guessed helped with gun recoil. Pros, she'd bet. At the stand, Linny spoke to Mary Catherine in an undertone. “If my shoulder wasn't killing me, I could scare them with one of my almost-hit-the-clay-chucking-machine shots.”

“Nah. Might accidentally shoot one of them,” Mary Catherine said quietly as she loaded the shells. Lifting it to her shoulder, she squinted and called, “Pull.”

Linny hit the button and watched delightedly as Mary Catherine hit the first clay dead center, and then the next. She exhaled and tried to look blasé, as if this happened all the time. Mary Catherine reloaded and Linny watched breathlessly as her friend's shot shattered the first disk, and then the last. Though she felt like jumping up and down, she just said quietly, “Nice.”

Her friend looked impassive but gave a short nod, and the two women ambled back to the cart. The brothers' smirks were gone. Mr. Thin Lips gave a feeble smile and the square-jawed one gave a little salute as the two women stepped into the golf cart. “See you men later,” Mary Catherine called in a pleasant tone, and they cruised off down the path.

After they got a safe distance away, Mary Catherine stopped the cart, turned to Linny, and gave a little cheer, her eyes dancing. “That was so much fun,” she said, shaking her head in amazement.

Laughing, Linny grabbed her friend's shoulders and shook them back and forth. “I loved it! Four in a row! And did you see how cool I looked, like you do it all the time?” she exclaimed.

Mary Catherine grinned. “Maybe gave them something to mull over.”

As they tooled down the path, a breeze had kicked up and blew back the hair from Linny's face. So far she hadn't shot anyone and no longer feared the gun would blow up on her. She was enjoying herself. She inhaled. The air was crisp and smelled of woodsmoke. It was a perfect day to be outside, and she was quietly elated at having a new adventure. Lifting her hair off her neck, she let the breeze cool her and thought for a few moments about an idea that had been percolating ever since Mary Catherine had talked about the vexing lawyer brothers. She glanced over at her friend. “You know, your plan to be smarter and not play defense with the Westons? I need to do the same with Jack, and with Neal.”

Mary Catherine nodded and looked intrigued. “Okay.”

Linny counted off her ideas on her fingers. “One, I need to quit trying so hard to be the perfect future wife and stepmother. I'm probably driving everybody crazy. Two, I need to stop having all these expectations about where we should be as a couple and as a family. From what you've told me, we'll come together in our own good time.”

“Right,” Mary Catherine said, bobbing her head.

Linny went on, feeling more and more confident that her plan was a good one. “Three, I need to do more things on my own and remember who I am.” She glanced over at Mary Catherine. “Got any more fun things to do in those adventure coupons of yours?”

“I'll check when I get home and see what's left, but Mike and Dare are doing the Krispy Kreme charity run next weekend. You run from the NC State campus to the Krispy Kreme, eat a dozen doughnuts, and run home. It's five miles. That'd be an adventure.”

Linny pictured trying to run five miles when she wasn't even a fast walker, wolfing down doughnuts, and ducking behind a bush to get sick. She shuddered. “I'll pass on that one, but let's get another adventure on the books soon.”

After they finished at the last shooting station, they jounced back to the office to turn in the gun and cart. Linny examined the scorecard and grinned over at Mary Catherine. “You hit thirty-eight and I hit five. I'm turning into quite a shot,” she announced, giving the butt of the shotgun a proprietary pat.

“You are,” Mary Catherine agreed, humor gleaming in her eyes.

Linny handed the gun back to the young man behind the counter and tried to sound casual, not stalkerish. “Is Butch's wife named Marcia? I think I went to high school with her.”

The young man looked bored. “Butch's divorced. I don't know what the wife's name was.”

Mary Catherine grinned at her as they got into the car. “Good job, Ms. Snoop.”

Linny waggled her eyebrows at her friend. “It paid off.” Her phone binged and, seeing Kate's number, she picked up. “Hey, girl. What's up?”

“I was running by your house to drop off some dog food our dogs don't like but I thought Roy might, and you'll never guess whose car is outside Mama's house?” Without giving her a chance to guess, Kate said indignantly, “It's that creepy minister in his shiny Jaguar!”

L
inny tensed, knowing right where her sister was going. “You're worried he caught wind of the money and is trying to hit her up for a big donation?” She glanced over at Mary Catherine, who was listening unabashedly, eyebrows raised.

“Yes!” Kate practically squeaked. “He didn't even know who she was before and now he's visiting her. He probably heard about the big win. You know this place. Gossip City,” she said darkly. “Dessie or Ruby might have talked about it at the hairdresser's or at the cafeteria.”

Through the phone line, Linny thought she heard crows cawing. “Where are you?”

“In the car, behind the wax myrtles that line Mama's driveway. I'm slumped down in my seat, just keeping an eye on things,” she said darkly.

A shotgun blasted not far from the parking lot.

“Where are
you
?” Kate asked, sounding alarmed.

“Just finished shooting sporting clays. Mary Catherine talked me into it,” Linny said, looking at her friend.

“Goodness,” Kate said, sounding relieved. “Should I go to the door and try to interrupt this little party?”

When Dottie went through her yard sale/amateur hoarder phase, Linny had tried to talk to her mother about the elliptical machine and the pink ride-on Barbie jeep parked in the middle of her living room. Linny winced, remembering how she'd almost gotten her head bitten off. “Mama hates when we interfere.”

“I know,” Kate said wearily. “But I thought about what you said about her being too trusting with men who might hurt her, and you're right. She thinks this minister is a prince. I don't want him taking advantage of her.”

Linny thought about it. Her pregnant sister didn't need to be dealing with this. “You go on home. Mary Catherine and I will drop by Mama's house and try to get the scoop.”

“Good.” Kate blew out a sigh. “I've had to pee for the last twenty minutes anyhow. Call me later.”

Linny ended the call and turned to Mary Catherine. “Let's get cracking and head over to Mama's. I may need to shoot a minister in the butt with birdshot.”

“Lordy. One day with a gun and she's turned into Dog the Bounty Hunter.” Mary Catherine shook her head, and stepped on it.

* * *

By the time Mary Catherine wheeled into her mother's house, the only car in the driveway was her mama's dusty blue Buick parked underneath the metal carport.

“Dang. We missed him,” Linny said, feeling disappointed.

“Do you still want to talk to your mama?” Mary Catherine asked.

Linny nodded determinedly. “She's done so well with managing her own savings, but if this windfall gets her acting like Lady Bountiful, it could all go fast. She could live to be a hundred, you know. My grandmother lived to be a hundred and five. Mama might need that money.”

Mary Catherine held up a hand. “No need to explain. Mike's mother—who lives on Social Security—just got pressured into giving some supposed police fraternal organization a thousand dollars.” Her mouth tightened. “I checked the outfit out on Charity Watchdog. Only ten percent of the money they take in actually goes to helping police officers and their families.”

Linny rubbed the back of her neck. Widows could be so vulnerable. Nodding grimly, she unbuckled her seat belt. “I don't want her doing anything foolish.

“I'll wait in the car,” Mary Catherine said, holding up her phone. “I need to call Mike to see if things have cooled down.”

Linny nodded and trotted toward the front door. “Hey, Mama,” she called, knocking sharply on the frame of the screen door and scrambling to think how she was going to broach the minister's visit with getting Dottie's hackles up. “Mama?”

Dottie came to the door wearing a floral zip-up housecoat and slippers, her fingers looped under the faux diamond-encrusted collar of the hulking Curtis. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said and proffered her cheek for a kiss. “What a nice surprise.”

Linny scratched Curtis's rump and he groaned his appreciation. “I was in the neighborhood,” she said lamely, flushing. Of course she was in the neighborhood. She lived next door.

Dottie peered behind her at the white car. “Is that Mary Catherine? Tell that sweet girl to come on in here. I haven't seen her in way too long.”

“She's making some calls, Mama,” she explained.

“Well, maybe she can come in after she's finished.” She beckoned Linny inside while smoothing her hair. “My hair must look a fright. Curtis and I were just taking a little lie down,” she chattered as she led the way to the living room, the dog padding along behind her. Dottie slipped into her recliner and Curtis curled up at her feet in a surprisingly compact ball. “I've had such a busy day. It's plum worn me out.”

Linny sat on the couch and, trying to sound casual, asked, “What's kept you so busy, Mama?”

“Well, for some reason I just woke up this morning and said, ‘Dottie, it's time you splashed out. You need to take some of that cash money you won and spend it on yourself.' ”

Linny swallowed noisily and tried to remain calm. “Well, good for you. What did you spend it on?”

“Oh, I went hog wild.” Dottie chuckled and beamed. “Penney's had big white sale and the sheets in my bedroom were getting so raggedy . . .” Glancing at Curtis to make sure he wasn't listening, she said, sotto voce, “. . . from Curtis's toenails. Sometimes I let him sleep on the bed.”

Sometimes
was every night, Linny knew and hid a smile, picturing Curtis sprawled out over most of the double bed and Dottie hanging on determinedly to a sliver of mattress.

Dottie went on. “So I found some real nice cotton sheets and bought them. They weren't even the ones on sale, but I threw caution to the wind,” she said, waving a hand dramatically through the air. “Then I went by Big Lots and bought me one of those electrical bug zappers. I've always wanted one of those. You know, the ones that go
zzzft
and fry those mosquitoes.” She splayed out her fingers, demonstrating a bug exploding. “Such a good invention,” she marveled. “I wonder who came up with that idea.”

Though it was a miracle Dottie spent any money on something nice for herself, Linny wanted to hear about the minister. “Sounds like a good day. Anything else go on?”

“Oh, yes. I went to Walmart and bought an eyebrow pencil. It's called Macarena Mocha, and it said on the package it would dramatically showcase your eyes.” Slowly, she raised and lowered her eyebrows and gave Linny an expectant look. “Can you tell?”

“Your eyes do look . . . dramatically showcased,” Linny said. “Anything else interesting going on?” she prompted.

“You'll never in a million years guess who stopped by to see me. Dr. Faison, the minister from our church. He said he's been ashamed of himself for being the shepherd that's not gotten out and personally visited each and every member of his flock; those were his words.” She shook her head wonderingly. “I told you he had a way with words. Anyhow, we had such a nice visit.”

“Good,” Linny said. “What's he up to?” She caught her mother's quizzical look and quickly rephrased, “I mean, how are things going at the church?”

“Not so good.” her mother said. “Ever since the recession, collections have been way down, and they've not come back even though things are better. Of course they built that grand church right before the economy fell off.” She sniffed. “Over at First Baptist, we were happy with our plain church, even though it was a hundred years old and it leaked when it rained and the men and the women had to use the same bathroom.” She frowned. “I'm not much on those coed bathrooms.” Dottie gave her a meaningful look and whispered, “The men sprinkle.”

“So he just stopped by to visit his sheep?” Linny got a sharp look from Dottie and she flushed. “I mean, so he just stopped by to say hello?”

“That's right,” her mother said crisply. “I thought it was very thoughtful, someone as busy and important as he is coming by to see me.”

Linny felt the blood pound in her ears and couldn't help blurting out, “Mama, did he ask you for money?”

Dottie's mouth became a thin line. “We talked about the church's money problems, but he didn't ask me for money. It was just a friendly visit.”

Linny leaned forward and plowed on. “Maybe he visited you because he heard about you winning that money and wanted to see if he could get you to make a big contribution to the church.”

Dottie shook her head sadly. “Those shows you watch on TV are turning you into a suspicious person. You need to watch the Contemporary Christian Channel. It has all the Roma Downey and Valerie Bertinelli angel shows and reruns of
The Waltons
and
The Andy Griffith Show
. Good, wholesome shows.”

Linny folded her hands and tried to sound neutral. “Mama, all I'm saying is that when people hear you've come into money, opportunists will come to your door with their hands out. I just want you to be careful.”

Her mother's face closed. She snapped up the recliner and rose. “It's my money, Linny, and I'll spend it the way I see fit. Now I need you to skedaddle.” She lifted her chin. “Mack is coming by to take me out to Cracker Barrel to eat and I need to get ready. We're just friends of course. Just a friendly supper.”

Resigned, Linny rose. When would she learn to keep her big mouth shut? Following Mama outside, Linny watched as Dottie waved gaily at Mary Catherine and hurried over to her car. Beaming as Mary Catherine stepped out, Dottie embraced her and then framed her face with her hands. “How are you, precious girl?”

“I'm doing lovely, Miss Dottie. I've missed you.” Mary Catherine draped an arm around Dottie's shoulders and gazed at her, pure affection in her eyes.

Dottie cooed, “You look so pretty, like you always do.”

Linny stood a few yards away, musing about the lovefest. Instead of telling Linny that she looked pretty, Mama would be more likely to tell her that she didn't look as tired as she had, or that her slacks were
slimming
: not exactly effusive compliments. Years of keeping a stiff upper lip in her marriage had made her stoic, she guessed, and maybe there was a cautionary tale in there about staying skinny to hold on to your man. She'd seen pictures, and Daddy's Ava Gard-ner–looking girlfriend had been skinny; a smoker, Linny bet.

But Linny felt a surge of fondness for her mother. Mama gave Mary Catherine generous helpings of love because she saw her friend as a motherless daughter. Though not technically motherless, Mary Catherine's wild-haired and whiskey-breathed mother, Reva, was alive and kicking and busily remarrying and divorcing while tending bar in a restaurant in Murrells Inlet. But still, Mary Catherine brought out the softie in Mama.

Her friend leaned against her car. “So you had a great time on the cruise. Tell me the highlights.”

“I'll show you,” Dottie said proudly. “Mack has been teaching me all the fancy technology, and he helped me buy a modern phone.” She pulled a phone from a pocket in her housecoat. Leaning closer to Mary Catherine, she scrolled through pictures.

Linny tilted her head. Her mother was tech-savvy now? Linny'd had to wrestle her into giving up her rotary dial phone. She'd left on the cruise with a flip phone she hardly knew how to use and now owned a smartphone. Next, she'd be wearing a phone wristwatch.

Dottie's eyes sparkled as she went on with her commentary. “This was an indoor circus with trapezes. Here's the wildlife-viewing submarine where we saw the barracuda. These next few shots are the ship's buffet . . .”

Mary Catherine's eyes widened as she peered at the screen. “Dottie, these shots are excellent. So clear and perfectly set up. You're quite the photographer.”

Dottie chuckled. “No, honey. Dessie took most of these shots. Her late husband used to be a school photographer and taught her all his tricks. She's real handy with the camera. She used the long lens a lot. Stayed back some and got some real pretty shots . . .” The two chattered on as they looked at the pictures.

Mary Catherine's usual poker face was open and her laughter was easy and girlish. Linny shook her head and smiled. Her friend was basking in Dottie's attention because she'd never had a normal mother.

Dottie paused in her travelogue and called over her shoulder to Linny, “Would you mind going inside and turning down the pot on the stove? I'm going to burn those black-eyed peas right up.”

Nodding, Linny went back into the house, turned down the heat, and stopped to give the snoring Great Dane a farewell smooch.

Outside, her mother and Mary Catherine were saying their good-byes as sadly as if one was going off to war. Linny bussed her mother on the head, and climbed in the car.

Dottie waved at Mary Catherine and called, “Come see me soon, sweetheart. And bring that handsome husband and son of yours when you do.”

Dang. Two other things she couldn't do well. She kept letting husbands slip through her fingers and she'd never produced a grandbaby. As they backed out of the driveway, she gave a sideways glance at Mary Catherine. “Mama still loves you better than she does me and Kate.”

“It's all right, girl,” Mary Catherine said, patting her hand. She'd heard the Mama-gives-me-constructive-feedback-and-you-sugar complaint many times before. “How'd the talk go?”

Linny scowled. “She blew me off big-time.”

Mary Catherine gave her a raffish grin as she slipped on her sunglasses. “I don't think you have to worry about your mama getting bamboozled by the flash minister.”