Sweet Tea Tuesdays

by Ashley Farley

  Lula, though disappointed in Brooke’s response to her question, didn’t hesitate. “Of course you can use the car.” She was prepared to drive to the airport herself if it meant she’d meet Sawyer sooner. “But why wait until Tuesday? Why doesn’t Sawyer come tomorrow? That way we can all get acquainted before the party.”

  “Tuesday’s soon enough.” Brooke hauled herself out of her beach chair and stalked off across the sand down to the water.

  Brooke’s unwillingness to talk about her boyfriend struck Lula as strange. Maybe they’d had a lovers’ spat. Or maybe they weren’t in love after all.

  Brooke kept to herself for the rest of the day, retreating to her bedroom right after dinner, and didn’t emerge until Monday morning after Lula and Phillip had gone outside to work in the yard.

  Lula cast frequent glances toward the porch where her daughter was rocking in the rocking chair and fiddling with her phone. How could a rectangular device small enough to fit in the palm of one’s hand hold someone’s attention for so long? The three of them were gathered around the picnic table for lunch when it dawned on Lula that it wasn’t a video game or social media that held her daughter’s attention. It was the person on the other end of the phone. She watched Brooke nibbling at her salad, a fork gripped in her right hand while she texted with her left. The signs were clear. The warm glow on her daughter’s face and the gentle smile on her lips. The way she cocked her head back and laughed at the inside joke shared with the person on the phone. Her daughter was in love.

  Lula’s mind drifted off, and she imagined the scene at her Fourth of July party. Her daughter and future son-in-law walking hand in hand up the boardwalk after the fireworks display on the beach, a diamond sparkling from the ring finger on her left hand. Phillip stepping up to the band’s microphone to announce their daughter’s engagement to their friends. Heidi’s servers offering champagne to the guests.

  First came love. Then came marriage. Then came Brooke pushing Lula’s grandchildren in a baby carriage. Lula shook her head. Where were these strange thoughts coming from these days?

  #

  Lula panicked when the chance of afternoon thunderstorms on the Fourth of July increased to 70 percent, but when Tuesday dawned bright and beautiful, she laughed at herself for even considering a tent. As the day wore on, the temperatures soared and the air grew thick with humidity, making it difficult to breathe. Brooke left for the airport around eleven. With her party preparations complete and hours to go before the caterer arrived, feeling weak in the knees from the heat and yesterday’s yard work, Lula retired to her room for a nap. She slipped off her clothes and stretched out in her underwear on the bed, letting the cool air from the window unit blow across her body. She dozed off and was awakened sometime later to the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway outside her window. Rolling out of bed, she tugged on her clothes and patted her hair into place before hurrying outside to meet her new son-in-law.

  Careful, Lula, she cautioned herself. He hasn’t proposed yet. A thought suddenly occurred to her. What if she didn’t like him? What if he had terrible table manners and used bad grammar? What if he was a foreigner or a hog farmer? But the he who emerged from the passenger side of Lula’s minivan was a she, a striking brunette wearing a gauzy sundress and dainty sandals.

  Lula had never met a female named Sawyer. Then again, she’d never met anyone named Sawyer. With the force of a two-by-four smacking her in the head, Lula realized they’d never used pronouns when discussing Brooke’s out-of-town guest.

  The tall lovely came around the van and greeted Lula with a warm embrace. “Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Horne. I’m glad to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “I wish I could say the same about you,” Lula mumbled.

  To avoid her gaze, Brooke busied herself with retrieving Sawyer’s bag from the back of the minivan. When Brooke wheeled the suitcase past Lula, she grabbed her daughter by the arm. “Excuse us a moment,” she said to Sawyer, and pulled Brooke aside. “Did I miss something? I was under the impression you were picking your boyfriend up from the airport.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, Mom. Sawyer is my girlfriend. We’ve been together for two years.”

  Lula felt the ground sway beneath her feet. “I don’t understand.” She slumped against the van. “Are you telling me you’re gay?”

  Sawyer couldn’t help but overhear Lula’s raised voice. “Are you kidding me, Brooke? Your parents don’t know you’re gay?”

  “They do now,” Brooke said, and snatched her arm away from Lula. She dragged Sawyer’s suitcase through the gravel driveway to the sidewalk and up onto the porch. Sawyer followed her with Lula right behind them, staying close enough to eavesdrop on their heated exchange.

  “I can’t believe you ambushed me like that,” Sawyer said. “That’s seriously the most insensitive coming-out ever. They’re your parents, Brooke. You should consider their feelings.”

  “They had to find out somehow.” Brooke held the porch door open for Sawyer. “And I didn’t know how else to tell them. They’re not as understanding as your parents.” Brooke and Sawyer crossed the sitting room to Brooke’s bedroom and disappeared inside.

  Lula was still staring at the closed bedroom door when Phillip came up from the beach a few minutes later. “Do you fancy a swim before the party? The ocean is calm today.” He stopped in his tracks when he saw her serious face. “Is something wrong?”

  She spun around, turning her back on her daughter’s bedroom door. “Yes, Phillip. Something is very wrong. In a few hours, ninety people will arrive here for a party given in your daughter’s honor. And she picks now to tell us she’s gay.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Turns out that Sawyer, the boyfriend Brooke went to pick up from the airport, is actually her girlfriend.” Lula went into her bedroom and slammed the door.

  Phillip entered the room behind her. “There must be some mistake. Maybe she’s just going through a phase.”

  Lula sank down to the bed and fell back flat against the pillows. “Adolescents go through phases. Our daughter is a twenty-six-year-old woman who knows her own mind. It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Why she wanted to go to college in California, and why she never calls or comes home for a visit. She’s been hiding this secret life from us. We’ve gotta do something, Phillip. We can’t just let her go on living in sin.” She sat bolt upright. “We’ll stop paying her bills! That’s what we’ll do. That’ll show her who’s boss.”

  Phillip lowered himself to the edge of the bed beside her. “We’re not Brooke’s boss anymore, sweetheart. We haven’t paid her bills since she graduated from college.”

  Lula stared at her husband, her face contorted in confusion. “Oh. Right.” She lay back down again. “Get me a cold cloth and some Advil, will ya? I feel a migraine coming on.”

  He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. When he returned, he handed her two Advil and a three-ounce disposable cup of water. “We need to think long and hard about how we handle this situation,” he said, positioning the cloth on her forehead. “If we make a wrong move, we could end up losing our daughter for good.”

  “I’m sorry, Phillip. But I refuse to accept that my daughter is gay.” She shooed her husband away from the bed. “Please leave. I need to pull myself together before the caterers arrive.”

  #

  Lula never fell asleep, but she stayed in bed until she heard Phillip turn on the shower a few minutes before three. She popped three more Advil and stuffed her limbs into a pair of white slacks and a blue gingham blouse before going out to greet the Tasty Provisions van that had just pulled into the driveway. The burden of Brooke’s revelation weighed on her like a ten-ton boulder. How would she ever face ninety guests?

  She found Heidi on the lawn surveying the surroundings, marveling at the large expanse of lawn leading down to white, sandy dunes and the ocean beyond. “This is lovely, Lula. Whe
re’s the tent?”

  “I decided not to rent a tent,” Lula said. “It’s a good thing, too, since it’s such a lovely day.”

  Heidi turned to face her. “The sun may be shining now, but it won’t be for long. Have you seen the forecast?”

  Lula tilted her head back and inspected the sky. “Why, there’s not a cloud in sight. You can’t trust the forecast. Those weather people get it wrong all the time.”

  “Not in this case.” Heidi removed her phone from her back pocket and jabbed a finger at the screen. “You can see the line of thunderstorms heading this way on the radar.” She held the phone up for Lula to inspect the clusters of green, yellow, and red moving across the screen. “According to the hour by hour, the first storm will hit around five. What’s your latest head count? We need to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

  “Ninety, give or take a few.”

  Heidi climbed the stairs to the porch. “You can count on a percentage of those not showing up due to the threat of bad weather.” She walked around the side of the house, disappeared inside, and came out the back door. She clapped her hands at her crew standing idle beside their van. “Okay, listen up. We’re gonna have to make do in the absence of a tent. We’ll set up the food table along here”—she waved a hand at the cedar-shake back wall of the house—“close to the kitchen, and put the bar in the corner of the porch and the band around on the side. We’ll scatter the tables on the lawn. It won’t hurt anything if they get wet. If it rains, the guests can eat on the porch and inside. There’s plenty of room. The house has great flow. Let’s get busy.”

  Lula searched the group of workers for Lizbet. “Where’s my daughter? Isn’t she working the party?”

  “She’s cleaning up from our last event. She should be here within the hour.” Heidi held the door open while her workers paraded into the house with trays of food. “We’ll get your tables and chairs set up for you. I assume you want the arrangements in the centers of the tables.” She gestured at the small arrangements of blue hydrangeas lined up on the kitchen counter. “They’re perfect for the occasion, by the way.” Lula had cut the blooms early that morning while Phillip and Brooke were still asleep, before Brooke left to pick up her girlfriend from the airport.

  “Thanks.”

  “If you’ll show me the plates, cups, and napkins, we can get started.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Lula asked with a dazed expression on her face. “I don’t know anything about any plates, cups, and napkins.”

  “We talked about this at length, Lula. You insisted on purchasing the paper goods for the party. You were even going to pick out the plastic utensils. You said you wanted a patriotic theme, but you wanted to make sure they were the right shades of red and blue. Remember?”

  Unshed tears stung Lula’s eyes. “I must have forgotten. I can’t seem to remember my own name these days. I’ll run over to the grocery store in Mount Pleasant.” She patted her pockets. “Where on earth did I put my keys?”

  “Calm down, honey.” Heidi squeezed Lula’s arm. “There’s no need for you to go anywhere. I’ll get Lizbet to stop by the shop on her way here. We have plenty of supplies there.”

  Lula nodded, biting down on her quivering lip.

  “You look like you could use something cold to drink. Why don’t you have a seat in one of these rockers, and I’ll bring you some tea.”

  A tall glass of sweet tea was exactly what she needed. What she needed even more was the friendship that went along with it. A month had passed since she’d last gotten together with Georgia and Midge for tea. How would she ever be able to break the news to them that her daughter was a lesbian? She would keep it to herself for now. Until she came to terms with it. If she ever came to terms with it. Brooke will never get married or have children, she thought, and then realized in an instant that her daughter could, and probably would, do both. Same-sex marriages were legal in every state in the country. And a sperm donor was all a woman needed to have a baby. Lula rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. She didn’t understand the world, didn’t belong in this century. Lula Horne had been born a hundred years too late.

  She was still sitting in the rocker with her eyes closed and her head rested against the back when Lizbet nudged her sometime later. Blinking her eyes open, she saw that the tables and chairs had been set up on the lawn, the band members were tuning their instruments on the side porch, the fireworks man was sorting through his rockets near the path to the beach, and dark clouds were rolling in from the west. Through the screen door behind her, she spotted Phillip in the kitchen with Heidi and caught a glimpse of Brooke’s closed bedroom door.

  She rose to face Lizbet. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “Knew what, Mom? Heidi said you were acting kinda strange. What on earth is going on?”

  Lula watched her daughter’s face carefully. Lizbet did a poor job of feigning her nonchalance. She already knew her sister was gay.

  “Your sister came out of the closet today. And I don’t mean the closet where she hangs her clothes.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Midge

  Despite her reservations about going, Midge enjoyed a lovely outing with Bennett’s parents on their boat. The evil sisters-in-law and their husbands were either not included or chose not to come along—Midge wasn’t sure which and didn’t really care. Bennett appeared adept at handling the boat, and his father seemed eager to let him take the helm. And his mother appeared more relaxed than she’d been at dinner with the rest of her family in attendance.

  Midge sat with Lucille at the stern chatting over the roar of the engine while Bennetts Senior and Junior navigated the sleek picnic boat across the harbor. Of the three Calhoun sons, Bennett most resembled their father, who was every bit as handsome and charming as Bennett. Both men shared the same amused expression, permanently etched in their faces, as though the world was their playground.

  As she watched father and son, Midge finally gathered the nerve to ask a question she’d often wondered about. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’m curious why you waited until your third son to name him after your husband.”

  “You can ask me anything you’d like, dear. My life is an open book.” Lucille crossed her lean, tanned legs and settled back against the bench seat. “We never considered naming our older two sons after their father, actually. The name didn’t feel like the right fit until Bennett was born. He’s our baby by five years. We’ve always felt closer to him than the older two.” Lucille playfully wagged her finger at Midge. “But don’t you dare tell anyone I admitted that, most especially my older two boys or their wives.”

  Midge smiled. “My lips are sealed.”

  As the morning wore on, Midge noticed that Bennett, like his mother, was more relaxed than normal. They ate an early lunch of shrimp salad and gourmet deviled eggs accompanied by an assortment of cheeses, fruits, and a bubbling glass of Prosecco.

  When they finished eating and were heading out toward Folly Beach, Lucille confessed that she and her son didn’t keep many secrets from each other. “Maybe because we’re so much alike, we understand each other. I hope you don’t mind, but he mentioned your relationship has hit a rough patch.”

  Midge tried to hide her surprise. She didn’t know too many grown men who talked to their mothers about their girlfriends. “To be honest, I learned some things about his previous marriages that concern me.”

  “I assume you learned these things from Virginia and Sara,” Lucille said in a questioning tone. When Midge didn’t respond, she continued, “My daughters-in-law don’t mean any harm. They think of Bennett as their baby brother and therefore feel the need to protect him against women who might not have his best interests at heart. And there have been a few, believe me.”

  This remark tempted Midge to mention the prenuptial agreement, but then she thought better of it. Her concerns about marrying him had nothing to do with money. If she decided to go through with the wedding, she
would insist they both signed prenuptial agreements.

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear about Bennett. His lifestyle makes him an easy target for the rumors. He’s always trying to impress others. Because he chose not to practice law like his Calhoun ancestors, he feels the need to prove he’s worthy of the family name. Truth be told, the law profession would have been a terrible choice for him. His attention deficit disorder prevented him from being a good student. He would never have survived law school. He has too much energy to sit still for long periods of time. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  Bennett had never admitted to having ADD, but when she thought about how restless he always seemed, it made sense. “Now that you mention it, I have noticed that about him.”

  “He’s a good boy at heart.” Lucille laughed when Midge raised an eyebrow. “I’m well aware of his age, but in many ways, he’s still a little boy. A naughty one at times. I won’t argue that. But sweet and attentive and loving at others. Did you know we share the same birthday—June fourteenth, Flag Day? I was blowing out my candles, thirty-two of them to be exact, when I felt the first labor pains.”

  Midge did the mental math. Lucille Calhoun looked damn good for eighty-one in her navy linen slacks and white cotton tee with her blonde hair pulled back at the nape of her neck.

  She watched Bennett standing next to his father at the wheel, his face as bright as a kid’s at Christmas as he played with all the gadgets on the boat’s instrument panel. “His childlike nature is one of the things I like the most about him.”

  “I hope you can work through your differences,” Lucille said. “Because my son really cares for you. More than he’s cared for another woman in a long time. Perhaps ever.”

  Midge wondered if that was true, although she didn’t see what reason Bennett’s mother would have to lie with her son’s happiness at stake. “I’m past my childbearing years, Lucille, not that I was able to bear children during my prime. I’m sure you’d rather see your son marry someone younger, someone who can give you a grandchild.”