Sweet Carolina Morning (2 page)

She pictured Neal in a year or two, eyes downcast and shyly asking her, “How do you get a girl to like you?” and her saying the exact right thing. At his wedding, during his toast, he'd raise a glass to her and say, “I want to thank my stepmother, Linny, for helping me understand the fairer sex and finding my lovely bride.” Vera would be on the bench on the other side, red-faced and steaming, wishing she was as wise—and fun—as Linny.

But really, she wasn't fun or wise. She just wanted to raise a boy into a kind man who treated other people respectfully and found his happy niche in the world. If tonight was any indication of how she was doing, she was going to have a rough time in the stepmother hood.

T
he next morning, her arms laden with heavy bags, Linny used the toe of her boot to gently tap at her sister's door. “Morning, sunshine,” she called, feeling peppy because of the frosty, sunny morning and the three cups of coffee she'd knocked back earlier.

Her sister swung open the door and gave a wan smile. “Morning.” Wearing a pair of tired-looking sweatpants and a T-shirt that read “I'm Silently Correcting Your Grammar,” her hair was drawn into two pigtails that curved away from her head like Pippi Longstocking.

The family dogs, Duke and Delilah, milled around Linny, barking their hellos with their tails wagging wildly. “Hi, babies. You lovely dogs! How are you?” Linny used the high-pitched, happy voice she saved especially for greeting dogs and saw her sister wince. Peering more closely at Kate's face, she saw it was pasty white, and her eyes had deep blue circles under them. Linny needed to ratchet back the cheerfulness, stat.

“You can't come in if you're going to be so chirpy,” Kate warned but waved her in anyway. “Why can't I be like the mothers who only get sick the first trimester?” She rubbed her fingers to her temples.

“I'm sorry, girl.” Her sister's OB had ruled out Hyperemesis gravidarum, the morning sickness condition made famous by Kate Middleton during her first pregnancy. “You've got plain old morning sickness,” Dr. Grace had said. Though Kate had been relieved not to have the more serious condition, the nausea off and on all day was wearing her down. Linny wanted to give her a hug, but her sister's equilibrium looked shaky and she didn't want to trigger any sudden darts for the bathroom. Although she'd longed for the baby she hadn't managed to have even with two husbands, this morning, Linny mentally congratulated herself for having bypassed the whole pregnancy mess. Seven and a half months of upchucking was not for her, no siree Bob. “Go sit down. I've brought you some entertainment.”

Kate brightened. “What did you bring?”

She hefted the bags onto the kitchen counter and pulled out her purchases. “Twenty-five pounds of black oil sunflower seeds for the cardinals and the chickadees, a bag of thistle, and a brand new Carolina special-edition bird identification book.”

“Yay!” Her sister clapped her hands and, for a moment, looked like her pre-pregnancy self. “Perfect. We put the feeders up by the window just before I got pregnant, but I never even had a chance to put seed in them. Everything just picked up momentum . . .”

“Jerry told me about the empty feeders,” Linny said.

Kate nodded and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

Linny patted her arm. “Still hard to sleep?”

“I just can't get comfortable,” her sister said, sighing. “Come sit down and talk to me. I just made some tea.” She led Linny toward the kitchen, placed a pot and two mugs on the table, and sat down heavily. She leaned into the lumbar pillow in her chair and adjusted on the blue gel doughnut cushion under her seat. “I love my pillows.” She sighed.

Linny swung into a chair, and watched as her sister poured from the teapot she'd gotten when their mother finally decluttered from last year's yard sale shopping obsession. “Bird watching is a perfect low-stress activity for your last few months. Neal said the thistle would get you goldfinches and purple finches.”

“I can't wait.” Kate tilted her head. “How is Jack and how are things coming with that sweet young man, Neal?”

“Things are coming along . . .” she began in a neutral tone but paused. She had a tell-the-truth-even-if-it-isn't-pretty policy with her sister. “We're making headway, but he seems to resent me and shows it in quiet little ways.” Sighing, she ran her fingers through the bangs she'd cut too short and not so evenly the night before. She'd have explaining to do when she got back in to see Jules, her regular haircutter. “Why does no one write articles in The Oprah Magazine about this? Being a stepmother is going to be tricky.”

“It'll take time,” Kate said, eyes alight with sympathy. She raised a brow. “Are you still streaming movies for tips?”

“I watched
The Brady Bunch
, but I'm not learning much. That household all seems sort of madcap but happy.” She took a mug of steaming tea her sister offered her and thought about it. “It's hard to find movies with stepmothers, and when you do find one, most times she's evil.”

Kate nodded, adding a packet of raw sugar to her tea and stirring it. “I see it all the time with the parents at school. It's a hard job. A labor of love.”

“Mary Catherine's going to give me tips on teenage boys and things she's learned about blended families in her work,” Linny said.

“Good.” Kate nodded in satisfaction. “She'll give you the real dirt, not the prettied-up, made-for-TV version.”

Linny pushed back her bangs. It was hard enough for her to trust in marriage after two dead husbands, but was she crazy to take on a preexisting child? Linny drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Glancing around, she soaked in the tranquility of Kate's bungalow and felt her worry throttle back. Sunlight spilled across the red-checked tablecloth, and after their rambunctious welcome, Duke and Delilah lay curled up beneath the kitchen table, probably yipping at dreams of too-slow squirrels.

Kate gazed at her. “How's your tea? It's ginger root. It calms my stomach.”

Linny lowered her mug and grimaced. “Tastes like spiced-up dirt, but it may grow on me.”

From above came a clattering and the sound of heavy, thudding footsteps. A giant was trudging across the ceiling. Linny looked at her sister, wide-eyed. “What is that?”

“Jerry's on the roof, looking for a leak near the chimney,” Kate said, looking amused.

Linny heard a loud, howling wail and tensed. Had he stepped on a nail? “Is he okay?”

“He's singing dramatically.” Kate gazed off, her brows furrowed in concentration. “That's ‘If I Had a Hammer.'”

Linny shook her head as the clomping and caterwauling continued. “The man's crazy.”

“I know.” Kate smiled beatifically and shifted in her chair, readjusting her cushions. “How's business?”

“Good.” Linny thought about it. “I'm still doing some work with the big corporations, but I'm working more and more with small business owners. I love it,” she said, feeling grateful and marveling at how far she'd come in the eight short months since getting fired from a job facilitating layoffs, a role she'd grown to despise. After some soul-searching, Linny had decided to look only for work she really enjoyed and started her own training business. She shook her head, remembering those first terrifying few months when she had no clients and no money. When the business took off, no one was more surprised than she. “Ronnie the mechanic told his sister-in-law the dentist about me, and now she wants me to come work with her staff, whom she says are ‘snippy.' The owner of A Roving Fleet of Geeks—the company that sends IT folks out to fix people's home computers—wants me to do customer service training with his road crew. Imagine geeks not having good people skills.” She shook her head, pretending to look incredulous.

Kate grinned and nodded encouragingly. “Jerry says word-of-mouth business is the best kind. People are ready to trust you and like you.”

The bellowing from the roof continued. Linny thought she recognized a Katy Perry song. “He has quite a repertoire.”

“He does.” Kate took a sip of tea and reached down to scratch one of the dogs' ear. “How is dog sitting for Mama going? How is your baby Roy getting along with Curtis?”

“It's fun having another dog in the house, and he and Curtis are having a ball.” Linny smiled and raised her eyes to heaven. “Yesterday, those two knuckleheads started a game of tag inside the house. Picture my forty-pound Lab mix chasing a hundred-and-seventy-pound Great Dane around my tiny trailer. Chaos. I chased them outside as fast as I could.”

“Wow. Two rambunctious boys,” Kate said, chuckling.

Linny tilted her head. “When's Mama calling?”

“Any minute now.” Kate picked her phone up from the table, gazed at Linny, and shook her head in wonder. “I still can't believe our country mouse mother is becoming an international adventurer.” The phone rang and Kate snatched it up, grinning. “Hey, Mama. Linny's here; I'll put you on speakerphone.” She held the phone out between the two of them.

“Hey, Mama,” Linny said cheerfully. “How are you?”

“Fine and dandy,” Dottie boomed.

“You can talk in a normal volume. We can hear you just fine,” Kate reassured her.

“Okie dokie,” Dottie said, sounding chipper. “How's my boy Curtis?”

“Lovely. Perfect. He and Roy are best buds now,” Linny said.

“I'm so glad,” Dottie said wistfully. “I've been missing him.”

“How was Key West?” Kate asked.

“Colorful!” her mother fluted.

Linny winced, hoping she meant colorful as in Ernest Hemingway's house and the Butterfly Conservatory, and not colorful as in naked people walking around painted to look like they had on clothes. She didn't want her mother's first trip out of North Carolina to be her last.

“There's so much to do. I'm going to be busy as a bee,” her mother said, sounding happy.

Kate glanced at Linny, her mouth turned up. “What have you got planned?” she asked, holding the phone closer to her mouth.

“Let's see.” A paper rustled, and Linny guessed her mother was unfolding a list. She rolled her eyes at her sister.

“I've got morning prayer group at eight, bingo at one, a salsa class at three, and the men's belly flop contest at four. We have early seating at supper, and we're seeing a show with a chainsaw-juggling comedian.”

“You wrote a schedule, Mama? On your vacation?” No wonder Linny ran her own life with to-do lists. She had her mother to thank for that dash of OCD.

Her mother sniffed. “Sparkle, the social director, suggested it at the cruise kickoff party. She gave us each a little planner book for every hour of every day.”

“Try to relax, too, Mama. Let yourself do whatever you want to do,” Linny suggested as her sister shot her an admonishing look.

“I am.” Her mother's voice had that old defensive tone.

Linny immediately felt contrite. Good grief, it was a big enough deal that her fifty-nine-year-old mother was taking her first-ever trip out of the country. If she wanted to schedule every minute, she could. Linny's tone was conciliatory. “Mama, I think the schedule is a fine idea. You'll make sure you see all you want to see.”

“That's what I thought,” Dottie said, her ruffled feathers smoothed. “So we're on our way to Aruba.”

“Great! How are the girls enjoying it so far?” Kate asked.

“Dessie won a how low can you go limbo contest for people over fifty-five and is making scads of new friends. Ruby has been playing bridge and flirting up a storm with the Swedish captain.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Dessie thinks Captain Sven has a spray-on tan and that his nails might be manicured—the clear kind, not the red,” she clarified. “Remember, Dessie ought to know because her ex-husband before Del . . .”

“We know, Mama,” Linny interjected, trying to stave off the inevitable spelling.

But her mother plowed on, sotto voce. “He turned out to be G–A–Y, so we'll see. It'll all come out in the wash, though,” she said cheerfully. “Well, I need to skedaddle. The casinos open soon and the slots are hot.”

Did her church-lady mother just say
the slots are hot
? Eyes wide, Linny glanced at Kate for confirmation. Her sister's hands were over her mouth to suppress her giggles. “Bon voyage, Mama. Have a great time. Call us as soon as you get a cell signal again.”

“Bye, sweethearts,” her mother said and ended the call.

Linny grinned at Kate as she pushed the End button. “Mama's having a ball.”

“I'm glad.” Kate's smile faltered as she touched her belly. “Junior just gave me a kick.”

“Let me pat him.” Linny softly placed her hand on her sister's stomach; she felt the movement and her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh. He's a mighty tyke.”

“We think he's going to be big. Jerry was a ten-pound baby,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Linny pictured that bowling ball, that watermelon, traveling down a birth canal, and winced, but quickly rearranged her features into a benign smile when her sister glanced at her. Again, maybe the no-baby situation was just fine.

* * *

The next morning, Linny arrived at Jumpin' Joe's a few minutes early and glanced around at the already full parking lot. The restaurant and coffee shop was a hot spot for the professionals who worked downtown. Inside, she pulled off her scarf and breathed in the smoky, rich aroma of coffee.

“Good morning. Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day.” The creamy-skinned hostess offered her a warm smile, led the way to a booth, and poured her a cup of coffee.

Mary Catherine blew in, bringing with her a rush of fresh air and the scent of lemon verbena. She leaned in to give Linny a quick hug and slid in across from her. Nabbing a waitress, she asked for coffee. She settled back in the seat and gazed at Linny shrewdly. “How's hunka-hunka Jack, and how are you doing with Neal?”

“Good and so-so.” Stirring cream in her steaming mug, Linny told her about Neal's reaction to news of their engagement and shook her head uncomprehendingly. “How could he think his parents were getting back together? He's eleven; he saw that marriage fall apart, and his mother seems happy with her new husband.”