The Summer's End (4 page)

“If you're so familiar with them, go catch it,” she challenged sullenly.

“I'm not going after that thing.” Dora shook her head. “I always send a man after that. They're the hunters, right? My job is to jump on a chair and scream.”

“Don't look at me,” Carson said.

“I thought you were nature girl,” Harper said.

“I'll take a shark any day over one of those critters. But
I think Mamaw has one of Papa Edward's hunting guns. You could shoot the thing.”

Dora joined Carson in a renewed bout of laughter.

Over the past months working in the garden, Harper had become all too familiar with the wildlife that teemed in the lowcountry—insects, anoles, frogs, snakes. She'd learned to deal with them, but she didn't think she'd ever get used to their jumping out at her. Once, she was pulling weeds from the grasses in her garden when a snake shot straight out from the grass. Lucille had told her the grasses were a favorite hiding place for snakes, which is why the basket weavers always had their men go fetch the sweetgrass for them.

“I think I'd rather face a poisonous snake than a palmetto bug,” Harper said. “But I'm not about to be made a laughingstock by no friggin' roach.” She grabbed a thick wad of paper towels, set her jaw, and marched with purpose to the sink, where she thought she'd seen the bug land.

“What are you doing?” Dora asked.

“What do you think I'm doing?”

Her sisters watched as she went to the sink and, with an outstretched arm, poised to leap back, nudged the dirty pot. Then the sponge. Suddenly the bug bolted. But not fast enough. Harper pounced and heard a gross pop that had her stomach reeling. In a rush she dispatched the bug to the trash. When she turned back to her sisters, she saw with great satisfaction the look of shock mixed with awe on their faces.

“Don't throw it out,” Carson said. “You should cut off its head and wings and stake them around the perimeter of the house as a warning to all the other bugs out there to what happens if they come inside.”

Dora laughed. “Good one.”

“I'll tell you what's
not
funny”—Harper frowned—“the state of this kitchen.” She waved her arm, indicating the dishes and food scraps on the table, then the sink overflowing with dishes. “Dirty dishes left in the sink, crumbs on the table. No wonder we have bugs.” She shook her head. “Lucille must be rolling over in her grave.”

Dora and Carson were immediately chastened. They gazed around the kitchen with somber expressions.

“It's not only the kitchen,” Harper said. “There's a film of dust on all the furniture. Dust bunnies on the floor.”

“Mamaw had to cancel the cleaning crew,” Dora said. “She said she had to cut back. All of us living here, eating her food, using her hot water, has really upped her monthly expenses.”

“Not to mention the bedrooms she created for us,” Harper added.

Dora shook her head. “We're still acting like those little girls who used to come here in the summer. All we did was play and eat and fight and think of ourselves. We didn't do a lick of work, not really. And here we are, doing the same thing. Only we aren't little girls anymore, are we?”

Harper walked to the table and lifted the nearly empty carton of cookies. “Okay, who ate all the cookies and just left the package out, crumbs and all?”

With her long hair flying Carson looked like an Amazon princess on the warpath as she stomped to Harper to snatch the carton from her hands. She took out the final fig cookie and popped it into her mouth. “I'm sorry,” Carson snapped. “I was hungry. Hey, I'm pregnant. Didn't you ever hear of midnight cravings? It happens.”

Harper looked at Carson's abdomen and wondered again how a baby could be growing inside that flat, taut belly.

Dora said, “We don't care about you eating the cookies. Eat as many as you want. Just clean up after yourself! We're not your maids. Besides, it's not just Carson making a mess. It's all of us.”

Carson looked at her older sister. “You're right, of course. We can't expect Mamaw to take care of us. Nor should she. We should be taking care of her.”

“Amen,” Dora said.

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Harper said, warming to the topic. “I'm worried about her. Want to guess where I found her this morning?” She paused, watching them shake their heads with curiosity. “Sitting on the porch. Playing solitaire.”

Dora's mouth opened in a silent gasp.

Carson looked stricken. “Playing solitaire? That's just too sad.”

“She even asked me if I believed in an afterlife.”

“No . . . ,” Carson breathed.

“Bless her heart,” Dora said with a sorry shake of her head.

Harper continued, “She's having a hard time with Lucille being gone.”

“Lucille doted on Mamaw,” Dora said. “And when Lucille got sick, Mamaw doted on her. I 'spect she's lonelier than God right now.”

“She shouldn't sit around all alone,” said Carson. “Maybe we can think of things to do with her. Get her out of the house.”

“We can go on a shopping trip to Charleston,” suggested Dora. “Then have tea at
Charleston Place. Maybe a little champagne. Girl stuff. She'd like that.”

“We can play gin rummy with her, like Lucille did,” said Carson. “Mamaw loves to play cards.”

“I don't know how to play gin rummy,” said Harper.

“It's easy. I can teach you.” Carson's voice quickened with excitement. “How about we all play cards together, like we used to in the summers when we were little? I loved that. What was the name of the game we played . . . ?”

“Canasta!” said Dora, her eyes gleaming.

“Yes, that's it!” Carson said.

“I don't remember how to play that, either,” said Harper. “Anyone know bridge?”

Carson shook her head. “It's got to be canasta . . .”

“Or hearts. We played that, too,” Dora added with authority.

“Hold on,” Harper interjected. “Before we start playing, can we talk about working? We have to divvy up the chores.”

“Right.” Carson gave a military salute and smirked as she walked to the small desk. “Since when did you become the little general?” She rummaged through the drawers. “We can make a schedule, like I made for Nate in Florida.”

Dora called after her, “I don't think we need drawings of stick figures, suns, and moons.”

“Ha-ha,” Carson quipped, returning to the table, hands filled with supplies. “Okay, I've got some paper, markers, pens.” She pulled out a chair and sat, spreading the materials in front of her with enthusiasm. “You two muddle about who does what. I'll make the chart.”

Dora caught Harper's eye and they smiled. It was amusing to
see the freewheeling Carson get behind something as orderly and routine as a schedule.

“I'll make coffee.” Harper headed to the sink with renewed purpose. “I'm no good making any decisions without my caffeine jolt.” Harper approached the sink hesitantly and plucked up the sponge with two fingers. She looked over her shoulder to see her sisters watching.

They burst out with renewed laughing.

“It's not funny!” But this time Harper laughed as well.

“I'll pass on the coffee,” said Carson, patting her abdomen. “Makes me nauseous.”

“Would you bring a cup up to Mamaw?” Harper asked. “I sent her to her room to get dressed. Poor thing was just lying about in her nightclothes.”

Carson's face registered shock. “Really? Damn, she must be seriously out of sorts. Let's do this.”

After Harper made coffee, Dora cleared the long wood table and wiped away the crumbs. Soon, steaming mugs were on the table, and a stack of raisin toast. The scent of coffee and cinnamon filled the air as the three women sat together and began making plans. First they created a formal schedule of chores to be done daily and those to be done weekly. Allocating the workload took a little more time as they argued about who did what chore best. Finally they set up a schedule for cooking meals and shopping. In the end, no one complained. Harper felt buoyed by the sisterly cooperation.

As they worked, they reminisced about the meals Lucille had prepared, the homespun advice she'd offered, and laughed at the shared anecdotes. Harper thought to herself how talking
about Lucille kept her memory alive in their hearts and memories. When the schedule was finished, they posted it on the fridge with magnets and stood back to admire it.

“I don't think there's anything on that schedule that will help organize my life,” Carson said with a rueful grin. “But at least the house will be clean.”

“I hear you,” Harper added, and the two women clinked mugs.

“Speaking of schedules.” Dora carried her mug to the sink. “I hate to throw a wrench in our newly laid plans, but I don't know how much longer I'll be on your work team.”

“Why not?” Carson swung her head around.

Dora set her coffee mug on the counter and took a deep breath. “Well, I've made some decisions.”

Her sisters sat staring at her silently with rapt attention.

“I'm not moving back to Summerville. I've decided to stay close by. Mt. Pleasant probably.”

“Nate will be happy,” Carson said. “He loves the water.”

“Nate's the main reason I'm staying.”

“And Devlin . . . ,” added Carson mischievously.

Dora laughed in acknowledgment. “Him, too. But . . . the main reason is that I've found a school for Nate. It starts next week.”

The announcement was met with surprised silence.

Harper was delighted with the news but had to ask, “You're not homeschooling anymore?”

Dora shook her head and turned to the sink. She squirted soap into it and turned on the hot water. Water gushed through the faucet as the sink filled.

“No. I've decided to send
Nate to the Trident Academy. It's a private school that has a wonderful program for children with Asperger's syndrome.” Dora turned off the tap and turned to face her sisters. “I've given this a lot of thought. It's time for Nate to mingle with other children. And it's time for me to get out more, too.” Dora picked up the sponge and studied it. “So I've begun looking for a place in Mt. Pleasant, and let me tell you, it's hard to find a rental I can afford.”

“Aren't you worried about all these changes for Nate? All at once?” asked Harper.

“Of course I am.” Dora's face was troubled. “Leaving Sea Breeze, a place he loves, to move into a strange place will be tough for Nate. But on top of that, he'll be starting a new school, a whole new program.” Dora turned back to the sink and began to wash dishes with vigor. “That's why I need to get him settled in a permanent place as soon as possible. We all know how difficult transitions are for him.”

Harper rose to collect the dishes from the table and carry them to the sink. “How can we help?”

Dora returned a grateful look. “Just asking him about it, bringing the school up in conversation, reminding him how many days till school begins. That kind of thing. We just have to get him used to the idea so it's not a sudden shock. He'll have a tour of the school at the end of the week. I'm hoping Cal will join us for that.”

“Cal supports your decision?” Carson opened a drawer to grab a towel. “That's a switch.”

“You know Cal. He's got to feel in control.”

“What does control mean in this scenario?”

“He put up a fuss
initially about the cost of tuition.” Dora handed Carson a wet dish. “It's high. There's no sugarcoating that. But when I told him that I was getting a job to pay for half the tuition, he quieted down. Now he can tell everyone how he's such a good father, putting his son through private school.” Dora made a face. “That wasn't very nice, was it?”

“Just honest,” Carson quipped. “Are you looking to buy or rent?”

“Lord, I can't afford to buy a birdhouse until my divorce is settled and the house in Summerville sells. It's all kind of scary, but also exciting.” Dora laughed shortly. “I'm thirty-eight, and for the first time in my life I'm getting my own place.” Dora pulled the plug in the sink and, turning, grabbed the towel from Carson.

Harper saw a new confidence in Dora's face. “You sound happy.”

Dora snorted and dried her hands briskly. “I think that's hysteria you're seeing.” Her arm dropped and the towel hung limp from her hands. “It's not a happy thing to go through a divorce. Ten years of marriage . . .” She snapped her fingers. “Over. There's a world of hurt mixed up in all of this. But,” she said with an optimistic tone, “it's a new start. The end of a long period of unhappiness.”

“I'm proud of you, Sis,” Carson said.

“I've a lot to do in a hurry. Seems to be my mantra lately. At least I can carpool to the school from here without trouble till I find a place.” Dora looked around the room. “Thank God for Mamaw and Sea Breeze. It's been all of our saving grace. But the sale of this house is imminent. We all have to face the fact we've got to move.”

There followed a long silence.

Dora tossed the towel on the counter and turned to Harper. “What about you? Where are you headed at summer's end?”

“Don't know yet,” Harper answered evasively, leaning back against the counter. Inside, her thoughts were roiling. She'd been searching the Internet for possible editorial positions, writing, all the while keeping physically busy in the garden. Nothing she could report. Certainly nothing as life changing as Carson's baby or Dora's moving forward in her life, full steam ahead. “Still figuring things out.”

“Everything okay?”

“Everything is copacetic.” Harper forced a noncommittal grin.

Dora turned her questioning gaze to Carson.

Carson held up her hands like a shield. “It's free rent. I'm staying here for as long as I can.”