Classified

by Fern Michaels

  “Mavis, she’s a grown woman. Of course, she knows what you’re referring to. A good sex life makes for a happy marriage.”

  Abby’s blue eyes rounded. “Poor mom. I guess that’s why you’ve walked down the aisle so many times, huh? You liked all the good sex. Maybe too much, since all of your hubbies kicked the bucket.”

  “Abby Simpson-Clay, that’s a mean thing to say!” Toots admonished her daughter, though she did so with a grin. “It seems like I jinx all the men I’ve married.” Little did they know—this was now a secret fear she carried around.

  “Maybe all that hot sex was too much for them,” Abby added.

  “You two are getting to be as bad as Sophie, all this sex talk,” Mavis said, though she, too, had a smile as wide as the moon on her sweet face.

  “Have you noticed how she’s been kind of mum on the topic the last few months?” Toots questioned, then answered herself. “I think it’s because she and Goebel are going at it hot and heavy, and she doesn’t want us to know.”

  “Well, they are engaged,” Mavis reminded her.

  “Yes, and I, for one, am very happy for her. After Walter, that old bastardly drunkard, she deserves a man who appreciates her and treats her like a lady.” Toots paused, then added, “Even though she doesn’t act like a lady.”

  “And you’re one to talk,” Abby remarked; then she seemed to rethink what she’d just said. “I don’t mean to imply that you’re not a lady, Mom, just that . . . you know what I mean. I guess what I want to say is, you’re one cool . . . chick!” Abby giggled like a kid.

  “Well, then, coming from ‘one cool chick’ to another, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Toots replied.

  “Good. So now that we’ve agreed you’re a ‘cool chick,’ how are things going between you and Phil? I saw the two of you smooching the other night when you thought I was visiting Jamie at the guesthouse,” Abby teased. “Actually, we both watched. Phil must be a good kisser, huh? And before you tell me you’re just friends, well, friends don’t kiss that way.”

  Toots felt her face flush. “It’s none of your business, Abby. And we are good friends. Nothing more.”

  Mavis looked at Abby, brows raised. “That means there is something going on, or more than she wants the rest of us to know. Remember, she said there would never be another after Leland? Number nine was not going to happen.”

  Toots flipped her middle finger at Mavis, her usual answer when she didn’t want to talk or when the topic under discussion wasn’t to her liking.

  “Mom, come on, tell us,” Abby encouraged. “I see the way the two of you look at each other. You certainly can’t deny that there’s more than a bit of chemistry there. Remember, I’m a married woman myself. I know what lust is all about.”

  “And love, I hope,” Toots added, before taking a long gulp of ice tea.

  “Mother!” Abby said.

  Toots took a deep breath and rubbed her finger along the bottom of her glass, where condensation had formed. Indecisive, she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to say. What needed to be said. It was just so embarrassing.

  Concern etched Mavis’s brow. “Toots, dear, you’re not sick or anything, are you?”

  Toots was quick to raise her hand, motioning her hand left and right. “No, no. It’s nothing like that,” she responded, but she thought it might be easier than what she’d been struggling with since Phil revealed his big life plan.

  “Then what is it?” Abby asked. “I don’t like all this mysterious stuff when we’re talking about family.”

  “She’s right, Toots. If you have something you want to talk about, you can tell us. Like Abby said, we’re family.”

  Toots nodded. “Promise me, you’ll both keep this to yourselves until I make a decision?”

  Abby and Mavis both nodded their agreement.

  Sighing heavily, as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, Toots said, “I suppose it has to come out sooner or later.”

  Chapter 3

  “Mom, you’re scaring me,” Abby said, her blue eyes widening with concern.

  Toots took another sip of her tea. “It’s nothing for anyone to be worried about.”

  “Then you should simply tell us, Toots. Don’t keep us in suspense,” Mavis said, then reached for her friend’s hand. “It can’t be that bad.”

  Though she was reluctant to reveal her inner dilemma, she knew she had to tell someone what she’d been going through—if for nothing more than to let someone else share her embarrassment, and possibly help her make a decision. Another deep sigh. “Phil wants to take things to”—she made air quotes as she spoke—“ ‘the next level.’ He’s retiring this year and wants to go to Myrtle Beach and write that medical drama he’s been talking about. He’s asked me to come along.” There, that was out. Now if she could just bring herself to tell the rest of what had been bothering her, she might be forced to acknowledge what she hadn’t been ready or willing to acknowledge until she absolutely had to.

  Abby refilled their glasses; then she sat next to her mother. “That’s it?”

  Toots nodded, took another drink of tea, anything to stall the inevitable. “With my past, don’t you think that’s enough?”

  “I don’t see that your past has anything to do with your future with Phil,” Abby stated.

  Toots’s voice wavered when she said, “I’ve been around the block. Eight times. That doesn’t bode well for Phil.”

  “Mom, you didn’t kill the men you married. They all died of natural causes. If Phil wants to go to ‘the next level,’ whatever that means these days, then I say, go for it.”

  Toots hadn’t even thought of that, but still she needed to explain something she hadn’t yet explained. “It’s not that, Abby. Of course, I am sorry for all of them. I am aware that I had nothing to do with the timing of their deaths. If that were the case, then your father would still be alive, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “Then, please, don’t keep us in suspense any longer,” Mavis said. “I worry.”

  Toots knew when enough was enough. She’d stalled as long as possible. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her voice as though the words she was about to deliver would be less embarrassing. “I know it’s been over a year since I met Phil.” She paused to look at Abby and Mavis. When she saw she had their undivided attention, she continued, but spoke in a normal tone. “We haven’t gone to ‘the next level’ in our relationship.” She stopped, unsure how to word what she had to say.

  “You haven’t slept with him? Is that what you’re trying to tell us? He wants to, and you’re skeptical?” Abby asked, seemingly unfazed at her mother’s seeming inability to form the words.

  “Yes, but there’s more.”

  “Spit it out, Mom! For God’s sake, it’s not like you’re Miss Polly Purebred.”

  When Toots tried to speak, her voice wavered. This is not good, she thought, for she was rarely tongue-tied or at a loss for words. This shit is downright embarrassing, she thought. “If you weren’t a married woman, I would send you straight to your room without your supper.”

  “Toots, we know whatever it is you’re trying to say is difficult. It’s me, Tootsie, and my dearest goddaughter, your only child. There is no reason for you not to tell us something that is apparently very important to you,” Mavis coaxed. “We’re not going to judge you. Right, Abby?”

  “Of course not.”

  Taking yet another deep breath, Toots knew it was now or never. “I haven’t told Phil how many times I’ve been married. As far as he knows, he thinks it’s only been a couple of times. Abby’s father and then . . . one other.”

  Exasperated, Abby said, “Mother! How could you not tell him? You’ve been a couple for a long time. And what I want to know more than anything, why haven’t you slept with him? As I said, it’s not like you’re Polly Purebred. You’re still young enough to have a sex drive! Geez, Mom.”

  An uncomfortable lull of silence fell over the kitchen, broken
only by the sounds made by the three dogs as they growled at one another, communicating in some sort of dog-speak that only they understood.

  “Phil has never been married. With my record, I’m afraid that once he finds out, it will all be over. That’s one of the reasons why I haven’t slept with him. I don’t want him to think I’m . . . easy. You know, a slut like Ida.” She didn’t want to reveal her fear that if she and Phil took their relationship further, he might die. No, she would keep that to herself.

  There, it was out, and she did not feel one bit better. As a matter of fact, she felt worse for discussing the details of her private life with Abby. Mavis, well, that was different.

  Abby reached for another praline and took a bite; then she gave her mother the evil eye. “You have to tell him. If you’re really serious about him, honesty is the best policy. I believe you’re the one who taught me that, too. I guess this is a case of needing to practice what you preach.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know if I have the right to be ‘really serious’ with any man at this stage of my life.” Her eyes pooled with unshed tears. “This is so . . . unlike me!”

  Maybe she was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s, something she thought more often than she cared to admit, but only when she was fearful or in the midst of a life-altering decision. Sophie would call her a “wuss,” and she’d be right on the money. She wanted to say, “The hell with it, just live in the moment,” but she also felt as if she’d misled Phil. Once he learned she’d been around the block eight times, she just knew he wouldn’t want anything to do with her.

  And, really, could she blame him? If he’d had eight significant others, she would drop him like a hot potato. What was making this decision so hard was that she had real feelings for him. Maybe just a pure case of mature, aging-adult kind of love? The companionship kind of love where you were content to hold hands and watch reruns of The Golden Girls.

  No, no, no! If this was going to work, she had to be honest, and she had to start by being honest with herself. She did not feel like a mature old woman with calf love for a man she only saw during meals and movie night at the senior center. No, her feelings were wild, exhilarating, exciting, the way she’d felt about John all those years ago when she was young and ripe for new love. The time she and Phil spent together just got better and better; it had to be the real deal. The butterflies in her stomach had not lessened one little bit, but maybe that was because she’d put off sleeping with him. What if she slept with him, and all of the lovey-dovey, I’m-on-top-of-the-world feelings disappeared? She was damned either way.

  Abby placed her hand on top of hers, leaning across the table. “Mom, stop being so hard on yourself. I wouldn’t have wanted our life to be any other way than it was. I loved all those stepdads, except for Leland, whom I only met once, but can’t you see? These life experiences have made you the woman you are today. If Phil Becker can’t appreciate you for the woman you are, then he’s not the man we think he is. Right, Mavis?” Abby asked.

  Mavis’s eyes darted from left to right; then she directed her verdant gaze directly at Toots. “Abby is right, Toots. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve led a remarkable life. Look at me! Why, had you not sent for me, I would probably be up there”—with her index finger she pointed straight up, and they both knew what she meant—“with Herbert, and frankly, I loved Herbert with all my heart and soul, but I am not ready to give up on love. We’re not that old. Wade teases me all the time, tells me my eyes are as bright as a ten-year-old’s.”

  “He’s right. They are, but you’re high on life, Mavis. You’ve led a very normal life. You don’t have all the baggage to carry around that I do.”

  “If I were Sophie, I would tell you, ‘I’m gonna smack you in the face.’ But I am not Sophie, though I would have to agree with her if she were listening to this conversation right now . . . but she isn’t and I am. So . . . I did have a lot of baggage, Toots. Just a different kind. All those years I wasted, stuffing my face while spending all that time in front of the television. I’m so grateful to be alive, to be able to feel ‘high on life.’ If it weren’t for you, and if I was still among the living, I would be in my little cottage in Maine, gorging on potato chips and ice cream. You touch everyone you come in contact with, Toots. Why can’t you see what an amazing woman you are? So what if you’ve married a lot of men?” Mavis insisted. “They were men you cared for, so there should be no shame in that.”

  Toots knuckled the tears, which now flowed freely. Abby grabbed a stack of paper napkins off the counter and placed them in front of her mother. Toots dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t deserve either one of you.”

  “Mom, stop it right now! I don’t know what’s crawled into your undies today, but whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. This isn’t like you. Like Sophie always says, ‘Spit it out.’ ”

  “Phil wants me to go with him when he retires, and I’m terrified if I say yes, I’ll jinx him. All the men I’ve married seem to kick off as soon as I say, ‘I do.’ ” So much for keeping her fears to herself.

  “Has Phil asked you to marry him? Is that what you’re trying to tell us?” Abby asked.

  “No, of course not. I haven’t even been intimate with him. Why would he want to marry me, without . . . well, you know what I mean.” Toots blew her nose with another napkin.

  Abby came around the table and sat next to her. She placed an arm on her mother’s shoulder, and Toots squeezed her hand.

  “Mom, you know what I think?”

  Sniffing, she gave a halfhearted smile. “If I don’t, you’ll tell me anyway, so go ahead. What do you think?”

  Chapter 4

  “I think you need a project. Something to immerse yourself in. Other than helping me redecorate this place.” Abby waved her free arm in a semicircle. “You haven’t started any new projects, something you can really sink your teeth into.”

  “My gosh, Abby, after all those trips to Wilmington to tape for The Home Shopping Club, plus trying to look after Bernice without her knowing I’m actually looking after her, I haven’t had much free time. What time I’ve had, I’ve spent with Phil.”

  “I know, Mom. But you’re the kind of woman who thrives when you’re busy, involved.”

  Abby was right. Since she’d returned to Charleston after the kidnapping fiasco, Toots hadn’t really tackled a new project. Yes, she had the bakery, but Jamie and Lucy didn’t need her help. If anything, it was better that she remain as far away as possible from The Sweetest Things, or she would wind up looking like a barn. Every time she stopped in the bakery, she left with ten pounds of pralines. If she kept that up, they’d soon be attached to her hips.

  At that moment, the dogs started to bark hysterically. “I’ll go see what’s up with that trio,” Mavis said, excusing herself.

  “She’s giving us some mother/daughter alone time,” Toots said. “I’m all ears.”

  Abby laughed. “I know what she’s doing.”

  Toots blew her nose on the last of the napkins.

  Glad for the reprieve from her depressing thoughts, she smiled at her daughter, thinking, “Fake it and you’ll make it. An insincere grin is not a sin,” her own mother’s favorite words when Toots had been unhappy as a kid. They were words of wisdom, Toots realized.

  “You know that Chris and I have more money than we know what to do with, right?”

  Toots lifted a brow. “I suppose.”

  “Mother, you know we do! Now, listen, because what I am about to tell you is big. At least we, Chris and I, would like to think so. I want you to listen and don’t interrupt me with a million questions that I probably won’t be able to answer.”

  “Abby, you are a true brat, but I love you anyway. Now hurry,” Toots said. “I am dying for a cigarette.”

  “You’re gonna die because of those nasty things if you don’t give them up.”

  “Sophie and I are down to five cigarettes per day,” Toots informed Abby.

  “And here I thought y
ou’d all but quit.”

  “Abby, I know it’s a nasty habit, but it is what it is. I have cut down, and maybe I’ll give them up entirely. And, yes, I know I’ve said that before, but now isn’t the time. I have a personal crisis and need the crutch.”

  “You can wait five more minutes to hear what I have to say,” Abby insisted.

  “Of course, I can.” Toots looked at her watch. “Time’s ticking away.”

  Abby rolled her eyes, smiling. “All those buildings that were once used as slave quarters, the ones by the pond, you know how much I dislike them.”

  Toots nodded.

  “I’m aware of the historical value, but who says we can’t put them to good use? Okay, here’s the deal. Chris and I have set up a nonprofit organization called Dogs Displaced by Disaster. Whenever there’s a natural disaster, there are always thousands of animals who are left homeless. What Chris and I want to do is find them, and bring them here to DDD. That’s what we’re calling our organization.”

  “Abby, that’s a fantastic idea! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now. I didn’t want to say anything until I was one hundred percent sure we could do this. I’m not talking about just stray dogs in the Charleston area. I’m talking all animals who are displaced by one disaster or another. Horses, cows, pigs, the whole nine yards. You know, Chris said he always wanted to be a farmer. This is as close to farming as it gets. I know you and Mavis will climb on board, pitch in whenever our services are needed. We planned to ask Phil about his doctor friend in Florida, the one who saved Frankie. We’ll need all kinds of volunteers, from specialized vets to someone willing to clean up after the animals. Then we’ll find good homes for them or return them to their original owners, only they’ll be in tip-top condition. So ”—Abby paused—“what do you say? Are you in or not?”

  Returning to the kitchen, Mavis was just in time to ask, “In what?”

  Toots whirled around, her issues with Phil temporarily forgotten. “Mavis, you are gonna love this. Go on, Abby, fill her in.”