By Invitation Only

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “The federal marshals have the keys. You’ll have to ask them.”

  Speaking of keys, I was completely lost in my thoughts and almost didn’t hear the key turning in Shelby’s door, but I came out of my fog and rushed to open it.

  “Shelby?” I asked before I turned the bolt, being mindful of my safety.

  “It’s me! Open the door!” she said.

  I unbolted it and swung it open wide.

  “Look at my girl! You’re absolutely radiant!” I hugged her with all my might. “Frederick! Sweetheart! Welcome home!”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Cambria!”

  “You should probably call me something else from now on. Get yourselves inside. We need to talk.”

  She looked at my suitcases stacked against the far wall.

  “You’re staying here? I mean that’s fine, but why?”

  “I got evicted from our apartment,” I said as calmly as I could.

  “Why? Holy hell, Mom! What happened?”

  “Take your coats off and sit. I’ve got a story to tell you you’re not going to like.”

  “Uh-oh,” she said and sat on the sofa. “Is Daddy in trouble with the IRS?”

  “Worse. Our apartment was seized by the United States federal marshal, along with everything else we own. Past tense. Owned.”

  Frederick’s jaw was quite agape, and Shelby’s was as well. She sank deeper into the sofa cushions.

  “Where’s Dad? But I think I already know the answer.”

  “Dad’s in jail. Securities fraud and a dozen other charges. He’s probably going to be there for the rest of his life. And we’re getting divorced.” Might as well get it all on the table, I thought.

  “What? You’re divorcing my father because he’s in jail?”

  “No. I’m divorcing your father because he’s been having an affair with Nadia for years.”

  “What? I don’t believe you.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not true. In fact, Nadia is the one who turned him in to the FBI.”

  “That nasty bitch!” Shelby said and started to cry.

  “You can say that again,” I said. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just a shock. A really giant one.”

  I handed her a tissue. If I still knew anything, it was the location of the tissue box.

  “Listen, think what you missed. Dad on the front page of the paper in handcuffs. Plastered all over the network news doing the perp walk—they tell me that’s what it’s called. I’ve been stalked by reporters. I’ve had drones outside my windows taking pictures.”

  “Drones! Oh, God! Mom! That’s, like, super scary!”

  “I’ve been asked to resign from every board I was on. Our membership at the Union League Club has been revoked.”

  “Wow, and I really liked that place,” Frederick said.

  “Me too. I have no health insurance. I can’t even get a manicure. No one will rent to me—so far I’ve tried at least ten buildings. I had nowhere to go, so I came here. I’m sorry to intrude like this. I’ll find a place. I’m sure there’s some kind soul out there who will rent to me.”

  “Mrs. Cambria, uh, should I call you Ms. Kennedy now?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Frederick, call me Susan. It’s fine.”

  “Well, I was just going to say you’re welcome to stay with us forever, if you’d like. I mean, we’re family. We can get a two-bedroom, maybe? We’re both due for a raise. And it’s okay to call me Fred.”

  Diane raised a fine young man. I ignored the part about calling him by a nickname.

  “You’re very sweet, and that’s an extremely generous offer, but let’s see what happens when you return to work. I hope you both still have a job. Your father really did a number on the family name.”

  “We shouldn’t lose our jobs for something Dad did, or could we?” Shelby said.

  “I don’t know. His criminal behavior surely wrecked my life. I guess we just have to wait and see.”

  “Damn,” Frederick said.

  “Well said,” I said.

  “Mom, I can’t believe you’ve had to go through all this alone while we were gallivanting all over Africa! Why didn’t you call us? We would’ve come home right away.”

  “Because I feared that your gallivanting days would be over soon enough and I wanted you to enjoy your honeymoon. I was thrilled to spare you the god-awful embarrassment of the horrible spectacle he made.”

  “I can’t believe you just downloaded this whole story just as we walked in the door.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, but as soon as you turned on the television you would’ve known. It’s still in the news every day.”

  “I’ll bet,” Frederick said.

  “Well, we have news too,” Shelby said and looked at me with a huge smile. “We’re having a baby and you’re going to be a grandmother!”

  “What? Oh my God! You’re sure?” They bobbed their heads with pure unmitigated glee. “How absolutely wonderful! Oh! I am so thrilled!”

  I threw my arms around Frederick and then Shelby, and then the tears came. I cried and they cried and then we cried some more.

  “This is wonderful! Heaven knows, we were in dire need of some good news!”

  “We think so too!”

  “And when are we expecting this little miracle to arrive?”

  “End of June,” Shelby said.

  I thought for a moment and realized we had an engagement baby coming.

  “Oh, who cares?” I said. “Let people talk. They’re gonna talk anyway.”

  “I’m so excited, Mom.”

  “So am I, sweetheart. So am I. Have you told Diane?”

  “Nope, you’re the first person to know,” Frederick said.

  There was a little bit of extra joy in that for me, knowing they told me first, but why was I competitive with anyone? They could not have possibly known the depths to which my spirit had sunk or how badly I needed something, anything, to make me feel better. And on an odd note, the first person I wanted to celebrate the news with was Diane, so maybe I wasn’t really competitive at all. In fact, I could see Diane and me somewhere down the road, watching our adorable little grandchild running around a yard, discovering the world.

  Chapter 28

  Diane on the Farm

  “It’s as plain to see as the nose on my face!” Virnell said.

  “It’s also awkward, don’t you think?” Diane said.

  “Love will never be denied,” Virnell said.

  The first thing I did when we got the news was to dig my crochet hook out and find a pattern I liked. I wanted the baby to be able to say, my grandmother Diane made this blanket for me. I was busy making little squares and throwing them in a box. My yarn was white, pearl gray, and apple green. If she delivered a boy, I’d give it a pale blue border, pink for a girl. I was secretly hoping for a girl because I never had one.

  The first thing Virnell did was take a pile of Pop’s shirts and cut them up into triangles to make a quilt, so the baby could say, my great-grandmother Virnell made this quilt for me from my great-grandfather’s shirts. Her pattern was a tiny patchwork.

  “I hope she gives us a boy. Pop had a whole lot more blue shirts than pink!”

  “I don’t think she will even care, as long as the baby’s healthy.”

  “Well, I figure if it’s a girl I’ll cut out some pink teddy bears and quilt them over the patchworks.”

  “Miss Virnell? That’s a piece of genius,” I said.

  “I’ve still got it, missy,” she said and tapped the side of her head. “And don’t call me that.”

  We were beside ourselves with happiness. A baby! I was so proud of Shelby’s and Fred’s courage. Fred called.

  “What are you going to say about this if people count the months on their fingers?” I asked.

  “Mom, that’s your generation. Not mine.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling every one of my years.

  “If anyone says anything mean or nast
y to me, I’ll tell them to mind their own business.”

  “Just say that they won’t be getting an invitation to the baby shower. But you’re right, who would say such a thing these days?”

  Mom was all cozy in Pop’s recliner watching television in the living room. Kathy and I were in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine. She’d brought over a pan of lasagna. We had salad and garlic bread to go with it, and it was delicious. Even Floyd approved.

  “It was just Stouffer’s,” she whispered to me when everyone was gone.

  “Really? Well, it was very good,” I said. “And we didn’t have to cook!”

  “That might be the best part. What’s the latest dirt from Chicago?” she said.

  “Well, Shelby is getting very excited about the baby.”

  “Of course! So am I!”

  “Me too. They’re going to pay us a visit next month. They’re coming out to get Fred’s baby crib.”

  “Wonderful! Floyd was awfully good to rent that apartment for Susan. How’s she doing?”

  “Oh, I think Susan’s doing pretty well, considering the utter hell she’s been through.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? I can’t imagine the turmoil she had to endure. Bless her heart.”

  I smiled then, knowing Kathy meant, Well, now Susan with the no-longer double last name is seeing how the 99 percent live.

  “They’ve become very good friends, haven’t they?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Kathy Christie! What are you implying? I’ll bet you every last nickel to my name that hell will freeze before Susan ever gets herself involved with a man for the rest of her life.”

  “I know I wouldn’t! I had two husbands and that was God’s gracious plenty. One was worse than the other.”

  “Yeah, if you ever get involved with a man again, I get to hold a vetting process.”

  “Good idea,” she said.

  “Anyway, she sent me some pictures of her little studio. She put in a Murphy bed and furniture she bought online. Lord knows, the apartment’s only three hundred square feet.”

  “Murphy beds scare me to death! Three hundred square feet? That’s not big enough for a palmetto bug! Although she’s so skinny, she doesn’t take up much room.”

  “She says a tiny spot suits her just fine. And she even laughed and said it’s a lot more spacious than Alejandro’s cell. At least it’s in Shelby and Fred’s building. I think the plan is for Susan to watch the baby while Shelby and Fred work.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “A little. But maybe I’ll get him for a stretch in the summer.”

  “How are their jobs going?”

  “Well, I think Shelby’s position is less stable than Fred’s. Their boss told them they wouldn’t be fired because of her father’s notoriety, but he implied that they’d probably have a hard time getting promoted.”

  “That just doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Kathy, life’s not fair.”

  Where was Alden? Well, Alden, who was firmly established in my life as with privileges, had an event to cater that night. He was so wonderful. Why had I waited so long? He made me feel alive again. I mean, really young and alive. Amazing.

  It was the week after Easter. Asparagus, some lettuces, and strawberries were ripe for harvest. Floyd’s crews were beginning to increase in numbers, as they always did this time of year. By May, when the peaches began to come in, he’d put a hundred or so people to work, picking peaches, grading them, and packing them up to ship.

  We grew strawberries, Sweet Charlies, mostly for ourselves and for jelly and jam to sell in the store. They were getting better each year, mainly because we figured out how to improve the drainage and how to stop the birds from eating them. The berries were coming in so plump and sweet that we were talking about doubling the crop in the fall. We all agreed that it was important to diversify. Floyd planted them in an annual hill planting system, but last fall he began experimenting with a gutter system, because the harvest was much less backbreaking. Unlike our strawberry plants, which lasted five or six years, some of our asparagus rhizomes were nearly forty years old. We grew other things for the store—tomatoes, peppers, pole beans, field peas, collards, chard, cucumbers, corn, onions, and, of course, sweet potatoes. I couldn’t wait for the day when I could lift my grandchild high in the air to pick his or her first peach with a fat little dimpled hand. I wanted to see that child dribble peach juice down his or her little chin and fall in love with this land so hard that she or he never wanted to leave. That was what I wanted.

  For the next few weeks, we counted the days until Shelby and Fred’s arrival. It turned out that Susan was coming too.

  “Is that okay?” Fred said.

  “Of course, it’s fine! You and Shelby will have to sleep in the extra bedroom at Uncle Floyd’s and I can put Susan in your old room or she can stay with Kathy. I’m sure Kathy wouldn’t mind a bit.”

  “We’ll just stay with Uncle Floyd, if it’s okay with him.”

  “Of course it’s okay! Gosh! I cannot wait to lay my eyes on you!”

  Meanwhile, Floyd pulled the crib out of storage and cleaned it up. It needed a new mattress, but other than that, it was in good shape. He cleaned and oiled the movement that raised and lowered the side. Then he washed and dried every inch of it and gave it a fresh coat of paint. It looked brand-new.

  “Floyd, thank you for this. I think they’re going to love it,” I said.

  “Wait until they see what I’ve done with the chickens,” he said. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Susan sure likes nothing better than a surprising chicken,” I said, wondering what in the world had he come up with now?

  I was running my hand over the headboard and remembering hearing Fred’s cries in the middle of the night. I would rush into his room and scoop him up in my arms so he didn’t wake up the whole house. Then I’d rock him and sing him lullabies in whispers until he fell asleep again. Shelby and Fred had those sweet moments in their future and so many others. The first time you see your child is unlike any other first of your life. And then there’s the wonder of a sleeping child. You watch them, marveling at their perfection, wondering if they look like you, if they will be like you. Shelby would soon know that as the mother she could soothe her baby better than anyone. Fred and Shelby would come to the realization that the love they shared brought another human into the world. These were not givens. These were things that had to happen to you for you to understand them. Fred and Shelby were on the threshold of one of life’s most profoundly moving experiences. A baby was just what we all needed to send a signal to everyone we knew and to ourselves that life does indeed go on.

  “I can’t wait for the baby to come,” Floyd said.

  “I’m feeling really sentimental too.”

  “You want some butter beans for supper?” he said.

  “I always want butter beans,” I said.

  Cucumbers, sweet corn, butter beans, and the first peaches of the season were coming in. We had cherry tomatoes and Early Girl hybrid tomatoes that were new for Floyd this year. The real jewels, Better Boys and Big Beef, wouldn’t be in for a few more weeks. To this day, there was no meal you could put on the table in the dead of summer that was more satisfying than a platter of tomato and Vidalia onion sandwiches. Later in the summer we would get a crop of Viva Italia and Mama Leone plum tomatoes and, of course, San Marzano to put up in jars. That would be fun to do with Shelby, if she wanted to learn how it was done.

  Fred, Shelby, and Susan finally arrived on May 13 and came right to the store, knowing exactly where we’d be on a busy Saturday. It was late in the afternoon when they pulled up right in front. Our hellos were effervescent and buoyant, all of us so happy to see one another. Gus, of course, immediately walked in and around Susan’s legs. I shooed him away.

  “Go kill some mice, you silly old cat! Shoo! Sorry, Susan! Hello! Welcome!”

  “I’m so happy to see you again!” Susan said and gave me an affectionate hug, the kind I di
dn’t know she was capable of giving.

  “We finally made it!” Shelby said, arms outstretched.

  “Oh! Look at you, darling girl!” I hugged her. “You’re just in full bloom like a beautiful flower!”

  “Thanks!” she said. “I feel great—for a whale, that is.”

  “Hey, Mom!” Fred said and gave me a hug. “Gram!”

  Shelby was clearly in her eighth month and her round belly was so adorable.

  Mom couldn’t get out from behind the cash register fast enough. Fred picked her up and swung her around like he always did, and she ordered him to put her down like she always did.

  “Gram!” Shelby said.

  “Dear girl,” Mom said.

  We all laughed and hugged some more. I was so happy then, just to see them, to know that they were here safe and sound. I was especially glad that Susan had come.

  “I love the sign outside,” she said. “‘Stop the car! You need peaches!’”

  “Let me tell you something, when folks find out our peaches are in? They stop the car,” I said.

  I closed the store around six and I went up to the house to see if everyone was settled. Mom had left earlier to take a nap. Since Pop died, she’d started taking naps every afternoon.

  Susan was on the front porch reading a book.

  “I set the table for dinner. I hope that’s all right,” she said.

  “All right? It’s much appreciated! So how was your afternoon?” I said.

  “I’ve been sitting right here, rocking away, reading my book and enjoying this beautiful day. Miss Virnell is inside. She said she’s catching forty winks.”

  Susan was practically glowing and her hair was goofed up in the back. Something was up.

  “She likes her catnaps,” I said.

  I looked out behind me, taking in the view that Susan had. Clay pots of colorful gerbera daisies and impatiens were on the front steps. White oleanders stood in the yard along with our huge magnolia tree, which was filled with flowers so big and perfect, they seemed impossible. Pink bougainvillea climbed all over the fence, and the smells of our mock orange tree floated across the porch with every breeze. Summer was here and it was gorgeous.

  “It’s the simple things, isn’t it?” I said.