I dragged myself out of the house on Sunday to get the mail from the previous two days (may have been three).
That was a mistake because I saw Tucker and Ashley coming out of her apartment laughing and hooting it up like there wasn’t a care in the world.
Maybe I should be the one to move, but first I went back inside and gave myself a stern talking to.
I am not going to let these men get the best of me. As I said to Emma and Dawson, I have kids and a business and a job. And I’m never going to have a real personal life if I keep looking for love in all the wrong places.
That’s sounds like a country song Mama would have played, but I can’t place it now.
I’m working the lunch shift at the diner today, and tomorrow I am due into Molly’s Dollies for a meeting.
Thank the Lord Lia didn’t hire Ray to work on the business side, not that he has any sense in that area. But with him in the factory, I can avoid him at the plant site, too.
Even though it’s Monday I am feeling more optimistic. I made an appointment to see Ed Franklin later this week, and I am gonna get all my divorce affairs in order.
Not for Tucker or anyone else, but for me. And the girls, of course.
This morning I am on a special mission. I am headed out of town to the country.
I know, all of Applebarrow sounds like the country, but I am going deep into the county today to an old farmhouse at the end of a very long dirt road.
I am navigating it right now, and if I don’t go slow, I am going to risk my car’s well-being, and I am not calling the Swanson Brothers to come bail me out.
I approach Albert’s house with a sick feeling in my gut, but I’m also excited. He replied to my text last night and told me he was back in town. He addressed me as ‘young lady’ and said that if I wanted to talk, he was willing to tell me what he knows.
How exciting, right? As far as I can tell from the letters, he surely knows what I am looking to find out.
I doubt he was sending Meemaw letters and didn’t know where she had gone. Or why.
No, I am not even going to think like that. Today is the day I am making progress on something. I may even call Mama and tell her my idea about the estate company.
I finally come to a stop at the end of the long dirt road and turn off the ignition.
The beautiful white farmhouse looks inviting enough, but I am not sure if its owner is going to be as welcoming.
I have the letters in my purse, just in case Albert needs a reminder, or doesn’t believe me.
I wouldn’t blame him—there are a lot of con artists around who take advantage of seniors.
As I grab my purse and close the car door, I see my host on his front porch.
I wave and squint in the winter sunlight, hoping to see a friendly expression on the old gentleman’s face.
He waves back and motions for me to approach the house, so I obey and meet him at his front door.
“Hello, Albert. May I call you Albert? I’m Molly Jenkins. Thanks so much for meeting with me.”
He accepts my handshake, but awkwardly, as if he’s not sure this situation calls for formality.
However, it surely doesn’t call for a hug, either. Even if I find out he’s my real granddad.
“Why don’t you come in? I’d say let’s sit a spell on the porch, but you look cold.”
He steps back and motions for me to enter the house. I smile and step into the warmth. I now notice that Albert is dressed as if it’s springtime.
“You don’t get cold, I guess?”
“I’ve been riding my bike fifty plus miles every day across the southern part of the country for quite some time now, so I think my blood is still pumpin’ from my adventure.”
I follow him into the living room, which looks like an old-fashioned parlor, but farmhouse style.
“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? I have some new herbal tea that’s great for muscle repair.”
My muscles haven’t been doing much that needs repairing, but I don’t want this super fit senior citizen to know what a lazy bones I’ve been.
“Sure, that sounds fine. My muscles could probably use some…fixin’.”
I smile as he walks away. I really want to get up and snoop at all the photos, but I can see from the mantel that it appears Albert has a family of his own.
There are many pictures of adult children and little ones. Graduations, babies, wedding pictures. There’s a very old wedding photo and I’m assuming that’s Albert and his wife.
I wonder if she’s still alive. I hope she didn’t pass recently because that could mean he’s grieving, and I hate to drag up the past with someone who is already having a hard time in the present.
I surely know what that feels like.
Albert hands me a mug of tea and plants himself in the chair on the other side of the massive stone fireplace and says, “Okay little lady, I think I know what this is about. But I’ll let you tell me.”
Suddenly I’m not sure coming here was the best idea, but I’m here now, so I launch into my prepared speech about Meemaw, the letters, and what I found.
Albert listens intently and finally says, “So what are you asking me, exactly?”
“I’d like to know why Meemaw was in Maine, and what you’re referring to in the letters. It sounds like there might have been a child. Between you? I know that may seem like a disreputable conclusion I could be jumpin’ to but…”
He crosses his legs and stares beyond me. I’m hoping Meemaw isn’t making a surprise guest appearance, but she said she can only appear to me, or else she’ll get in trouble.
“I am going to tell you this story, but you have to promise me that you’ll be discreet about it. I always knew this day would come. I’m just glad it’s you comin’ to see me and not your mama.”
I laugh and say, “Boy, she doesn’t have a great reputation in this town, does she? Is she your daughter?”
He starts laughing and I smile. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to laugh, or if that’s a yes or a no.
“Oh dear, no. It’s just such a small town and I’ve kept tabs on Florence all our lives. I’m so glad she found Horace and they settled down. And I found my Gladys.”
“Is Gladys still…?” I feel obligated to ask about her before I get the rest of the scoop.
“She’s alive and well. She volunteers at the nursing home most days. And she teaches water aerobics classes. It’s a shame your Meemaw passed so young, but she wasn’t exactly the most physically fit lady. She loved her fried chicken!”
Now we’re going down memory lane and commenting on what a shame it is when people don’t take care of themselves.
“So, you didn’t have a baby with Meemaw? I’m confused. Who are the ‘girls’ you refer to in your letters?”
“Oh that. Yes. I was trying to write in code so that nosy people wouldn’t get a hold of the letters and know all of our business. Especially for Florence’s sake. Her mama was a much tougher version of your mama, if you can believe it.”
What a terrible thought.
“I didn’t know her. She died before I was born.”
“She was a piece of work, I’ll tell ya. So, the answer is yes, we did have a baby. Your Meemaw was sent away to a group home in Maine to have the baby and give it up for adoption.”
“So, then Mama can’t be that baby. For sure?”
“No, I remember when Florence had your Mama. The baby we had together was several years older. I am ashamed to say that Florence was only sixteen when she was with child.”
“Wow, in those days in this area that must have been very scandalous.”
“It was, and I felt terrible about it. I wanted to marry her, but her folks shipped her off and that was that. I kept writing to her in the hopes we could figure out a way to be together and keep the baby, but she ended up letting her be adopted.”
He gets up and walks to a writing desk in the corner of the room and opens the drawer. “This is the picture Florence
sent me when she said she was sorry.”
The photo is old and frayed at the edges, but it’s a baby girl being held by a painfully young looking Meemaw. I’m surprised they even let her have a picture.
“I’m so sorry, Albert. I hope me comin’ here hasn’t dredged up bad memories. What time will Gladys be back? Does she know about this? I should go.”
“No, sit down, dear. My wife and I have no secrets. And I did want to try to find my daughter, several times. Gladys was amenable to it, but Florence was against it. Once we both were married and had our families, we were all too busy to pursue it. And we decided that the child was probably very happy in her home, and we didn’t want to upset the apple cart.”
“So, you’re sayin’ I have an aunt somewhere out there who is about four years older than Mama? So about fifty-nine?”
Albert pauses to do the math and says, “Yes, I reckon that’s correct. But I have no idea where she is. I always suspected that maybe Florence knew more, but now that she’s passed, we can’t ask her.”
Little does he know I can ask her, but it makes not one lick of difference because she’s so stubborn.
“I heard that!”
Oh no. We have a visitor and it’s not Gladys home from water aerobics.
I slowly turn around and see Meemaw floating over to the front of the fireplace.
I know I need to pretend I don’t see her, or Albert will think I’ve only got three Fruit Loops banging around in my head, but it’s hard not to acknowledge her, especially now that I see Albert looking at the fireplace, too.
She wouldn’t dare!
Meemaw looks over at her former love and says, “I must say, he’s lookin’ good for an old coot, ain’t he? Now what is this about you gettin’ this man to spill all my secrets? Can’t you just let things be? Don’t you have enough of your own problems?”
I can’t answer any of those questions without looking like a loony bird, but now I notice Albert rubbing his eyes.
“Albert, are you okay?”
“I don’t know. Did you see somethin’?”
My face is beet red, I just know it, and I stutter when I say, “Um no, what would I see? I hear somethin’ in the driveway. Maybe Gladys is home.”
He is undeterred and continues to stare at Meemaw.
“No, I felt like I saw a flash of…this will sound crazy…but I felt like Florence was with us. I know that’s ridiculous—do you believe in that sort of thing?”
Just as I’m about to say ‘I don’t know and oh no look at the time’, Meemaw yells out, “Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit—I was tryin’ to learn how to move objects and then I found out you were here, so I skedaddled out of class and now I forgot how to keep myself disguised from other people. Shoot, if he saw me then I’m…oh crap on a stick—here I go off to the void—hummus and carrot sticks here I come. When I get back, we are gonna have words, missy!”
I study Albert’s face for any sign that he heard that rant, but since he’s still in his chair and hasn’t fainted or had a stroke, I think Meemaw’s poor ghosting skills aren’t quite as bad as she feared.
But they are strict with the rules if she was just punished for a small spooky malfunction.
“I don’t see anything now. Thank goodness. I think I’m just tired from my bike trip, and all this talk of Florence and the past conjured up some old memories. But don’t feel badly about it. They are mostly good memories, and I have come to peace that I have another daughter out there. I pray for her every night and that’s all I can do.”
Albert and I continue to discuss our families, and before I leave, I ask him the question that’s been dangling between us the whole time.
“Is it okay with you if I try to find my aunt? I don’t know how I would even begin, but I’d like to try.”
Albert walks me to my car with a bag of Gladys’ homemade peach cranberry muffins and says, “I don’t know if that’s gonna work, and I’d hate to see you get your hopes up, but if it’s important to you, I support it. Let me know if I can help. Gladys and I surely think of you all as family, even though I’ve stayed away out of respect all these years. I reckon that feelin’ Florence’s presence today was a sign that she would be happy we met and wants us to find our baby girl.”
I almost burst out laughing because Meemaw has basically threatened to tan my hide when she gets out of ghost jail, and she is sure to be in a bad mood if she has to eat healthy food.
Who knows how long she’ll be locked up, but I need to take action before she can stop me. I’m still not too sure about her powers, but if she’s been studying to be a Poltergeist, I may want to stay on her good side.
I assure Albert that we probably did receive a sign of Meemaw’s love and support, and I give him an awkward goodbye hug.
He says, “You know, it’s foolish but I wish I could see her one more time as she was when she was a girl. She was a beautiful young lady.”
His eyes are getting misty and I give him another hug and skedaddle before we both start bawling.
I start up the car and check my phone, once I see Albert has gone inside.
What a visit! I knew something…my phone ringing gives me a little startle, but I know Meemaw probably doesn’t get one phone call in prison, so I don’t have to worry about getting yelled at any more for a while.
It’s only Angie.
“Hey, Ang. What’s up?”
I’m dyin’ to tell her what just happened, but I promised Albert I’d be discreet, so I think I will ask Ed Franklin for advice when I go to see him about the divorce. I’m sure he knows about adoption law and can point me in the right direction.
Plus, even though Angie is not a big fan of her cousin Ray, they are still related, and I don’t want Ray knowing my business.
Angie says, “Hey Moll, I just got off the phone with my cousin Loretta, you know the one with the big hair who sells hot dogs on the beach? Anyway, she told me that Aunt Ida died.”
“Yeah, Ray told me that. I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Although I must admit, I was hard pressed to remember her.”
“Ray knew and he didn’t tell me? Why am I not surprised? That family of mine. You’re lucky you’re not a Rizzo anymore.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t think you were close to her…oh for the love of God, I’m getting texts from the girls. Let me make sure everything is okay, hold on…”
I know I’m going to hang up on Angie trying to look at these messages—I’m glad I’m stopped at a light but knowing me I’ll drop the phone…oh, here we go. Aww, what a cute puppy photo. I wonder who got a…oh sweet baby Jesus…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Mom isn’t she so freaking cute!?”
Zinnia is practically vibrating, and Magnolia is holding this little thing like it’s a china doll, kissing its head.
Damn that Ray!
Not only did I hang up on Angie, but when I called back, she was with a client, so I couldn’t talk to her. And then I was almost home, and in shock over the new addition to the Rizzo family.
It’s apparently not enough that he drove off my boyfriend—now he wants to make sure that any remaining free time I might have had is occupied with this little pee pants ankle biter.
“Yes, honey she is precious. Ray, you’re gonna keep her here, right?”
I peer at him with a look that could melt a volcano, but he’s either too manipulative or too much of a jackass to back down.
“Well yes, but the girls are in charge of training Miss Penelope, so she’ll go back and forth just like the rest of the people on the visitation schedule.”
Only Ray would figure out how to have another baby with me without touching me.
He’s put me in a completely craparific position! If I say no to the puppy, I look like the mean one, and they already named the darn thing.
“I told you Mom would say no, Zin.”
Magnolia rolls her eyes hard, and I know I am being manipulated by Ray’s protégé, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for the
girls to have some responsibility.
The parrot chimes in with, “Puppy, puppy, puppy!”
We all laugh at that because even the dumb bird thinks it’s a good idea.
I agree to the puppy and the girls plop her on my lap. It’s a skinny red colored wiener dog. She has short hair and trusting baby eyes.
“You’re so tiny, we’re gonna lose you in the house. Maybe you should wear a bell.”
I hold her up to my face and she licks my nose.
I cannot believe I now have a puppy.
There is no use arguing with Ray in front of the girls…or ever. I will let Ed Franklin deal with him.
As we walk out the door, laden down with puppy paraphernalia (at least Ray is footing the bill for all of this), I could have sworn I heard the parrot say, ‘Dumb bitch.’ What?
Either I’m hearing things, he’s talking about Ray’s pyramid scheme girlfriend, or Ray refers to me in very rude terms when he’s alone.
We walk across the courtyard back to our side of the apartment complex, and I spot Tucker leaving Ashley’s apartment again.
I do wish he would move if this is the way it’s gonna be.
It’s funny—Ashley made a big speech about how this place is like a soap opera—well it looks like she is making some of her own suds.
Zinnia runs right up to Tucker and starts telling him all about the puppy. She’s so innocent and resilient. She’s not even thinking that this could be awkward for any of us.
To be polite I stop, but Magnolia keeps on walking to our apartment. I thought she’d be happy that Tucker and I broke up, since she was none too pleased while we were together. But lately nothing pleases that young lady.
Tucker pets the little one’s head and says, “Wow, she’s a cutie pie.”
“Her name is Miss Penelope. Dad got her for us. And Mom is okay with it, right Mom?”
I look up and meet Tucker’s eyes for the first time since before I went on that stupid trip with Ray, and say, “Yep, I am. How could I resist?”
Tucker avoids my gaze and says, “Well, you better get her in the house. She’s so tiny and she doesn’t have much fur. It’s chilly out here.”
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