Down by the River

by Lin Stepp

  Grace continued talking to Charles as she walked around the table. “I’m glad the boys liked the carpet business, because our girls certainly didn’t. The way Elaine doctored everything as a little girl, I wasn’t surprised at her decision to study to be a pharmacist. It’s a good fit for her. She was always so calm, practical, and orderly. And I’m happy she found Frank Duncan. He’s a good match for her quieter nature.”

  She frowned. “Although I wish Frank would quit pressuring me to move into one of those villas in that retirement community he manages. Oh, I know it’s nice there, Charlie. But most of the people there are older than I am. I married you at only eighteen, if you recall, and had our first three children before turning twenty-four. Even our late child, Margaret, arrived before I hit twenty-eight. I’m only forty-nine now, Charles, while most of the people in Greenwood are in their seventies or older.”

  On the sideboard nearby lay the latest set of brochures Frank had given Grace before she went to pick up Margaret at college. The literature detailed all the benefits of living in the Greenwood Retirement Community and contained pictures of available properties Frank had inserted. Frank’s own mother, also widowed, was already well settled and happy in one of the villas in Greenwood, and Frank didn’t understand why Grace wasn’t eager to join her there. Frank never seemed to really listen to Grace when she tried to express her reservations about moving to Greenwood. You had to give Frank credit, all right—he was personally sold on the retirement community he managed.

  Grace shook her head. “Not a chance, Frank,” she said, shoving the brochures into the top drawer of the sideboard, out of sight.

  Walking on around the table, Grace stopped to put her hand on Margaret’s chair. “Margaret has only one more year of school, Charles. I assume she’ll get another scholarship to go on to get her masters in music—and that she’ll begin performing in some way as well. Jane hopes she’ll become a concert pianist as Jane was, but Margaret will have to make her own decision about that. And I’m sure she will.”

  Grace smiled. If one constant character trait dominated about Margaret it was her stubborn determination to go her own way. With her Grandmother Jane constantly goading her since childhood, Margaret had probably needed to develop a healthy backbone just to keep her own identity intact.

  Back at Charles’s chair at the head of the table again, Grace paused. “I hope you understand, Charles, that it’s time for me to make a change. I don’t want to stay on here in this huge house, rambling around by myself. Not without you. And you know part of the reason Frank has been encouraging me to move to Greenwood is because he and Elaine want to buy this place. Frank has that inheritance from his dad now, and Greenwood is not too far from the house here in Belle Meade. Also, Frank thinks someone should stay in the family home—and it seems that Elaine is the only one who really wants it. The boys are established and content up at the lake. Neither of them wants to move here. And Margaret has other ideas. She has no particular interest in the homeplace.”

  Grace put dinner napkins around on all the plates, including at the children’s places in the eat-in kitchen around the corner. “Things might get interesting tonight, Charlie. I’ll be looking to you for support. You will probably be the only one who will understand the decision I’ve made.”

  She smiled wistfully. “You always used to tell me that some day there would be time for me to pursue some dream of my own. I guess it’s now or never, Charlie.”

  It was much later that evening by the time the Conley family sat down to dinner. Oh, different ones trickled in earlier to visit and hang out, but dinner didn’t formally start until seven for the adults. The children needed to be fed first, and then settled in with a Disney movie in the living room next door to the dining area. The baby, Sophie, had to be rocked and put down for the night in her port-a-crib.

  Grace’s two corgis, Sadie and Dooley, were so excited to see everyone they could hardly stand it. They greeted everyone at the door as they arrived and then played outside uproariously in the backyard with the children. Now, they lay curled up on the living room sofa napping while the grandkids watched their movie.

  Dinner for the adults was a happy affair as everyone visited and caught up. Grace served a succulent prime-rib roast, dilled potatoes, julienne green beans, several salads and sides, homemade yeast rolls, and Southern iced tea with mint. She’d made Margaret’s favorite red velvet cake for dessert, since it was her birthday, and the children had joined in to watch Margaret blow out her candles and open her gifts.

  Now, all the adults were settled around the dining room table, mellowed out, finishing their cake and drinking after-dinner coffee. The children had returned to their movie, happily carrying their birthday bags filled with toys and games Grace had purchased for them.

  “Mother, thanks for making the party bags for the children,” said Elaine. “You always remember those little touches that make such a difference.”

  Grace smiled her thanks at her oldest daughter, reaching across to squeeze her hand. She had always been close to Elaine.

  “And thanks for the great meal, too.” Mike looked down the table and caught her eye. “Everything was wonderful, Mom.”

  Ken cleared his throat loudly, a familiar ploy to catch everyone’s attention. “You know, Mom, we’ve all been chattering away the whole evening telling you about all our news, but you haven’t told us anything about what you did while you were away. I know Margaret said you went to her recital, and I think she said you went up to Gatlinburg and toured around Townsend. What else did you do?”

  It was exactly the opening Grace had been waiting for. She took a deep breath, smiled, and answered. “Well, I bought a bed-and-breakfast while I was in Townsend—a wonderful, old, historic inn on the Little River.”

  The room grew suddenly quiet.

  Grace smiled at her children. “The place has been beautifully kept and profitably run by the previous owners. It’s called the Oakley Bed-and-Breakfast now, after the past owners, but I think I’m going to rename it the Mimosa Inn.”

  You could have heard a pin drop for a few moments in the room before Mike replied in a quiet voice. “Did you say you bought a bed-and-breakfast, Mom?”

  “Yes.” She looked at the stunned faces of her family.

  Margaret regained her wits the quickest. “Are you crazy, Mother? Whatever possessed you to do such an impulsive, outrageous thing? Plus you never even breathed a word about this to me the whole weekend—not even when we were packing up the cars at the dorm. When did you even find time to see a bed-and-breakfast and make a decision about one, anyway? And why would you do something stupid like this? Honestly, Mother; this just isn’t like you at all.”

  A murmur of shocked and outraged voices filled the air now.

  “Maybe the sale’s not final,” Frank put in, always the practical administrator. “I’ll contact my attorney the first thing tomorrow and ask him to start some proceedings so Grace can back out of this. I’m sure Mother Grace can still do that. She might lose her deposit, but I don’t think they can hold her to the sales contract.”

  “Yeah, we probably can still stop this.” Mike leaned toward Frank in agreement. “I’ll call our Conley attorney, too, as soon as I get to the office. I’m sure he can find a way to get Mom off the hook. Some sort of loophole. Maybe he can bring in the widow-still-in-grief aspect or something. That should help.”

  Ken looked at Grace in bewilderment. “Mom, whatever were you thinking to do something like this? And without asking any of us? What do you know about running a bed-and-breakfast, for goodness sakes? You’re not a businesswoman. You’re a mom. You cook and do crafts and go to civic meetings and stuff. You’ve never even worked or anything. And what education have you gotten to even prepare you for this?”

  Grace sat up straighter. “Running a bed-and-breakfast is not much different than running a big household like I’ve done all these years, Ken. And if you’ll remember, I do have a college degree.”

  “P
ah! A degree in home economics that is practically useless today.” Margaret rolled her eyes in disgust. “There isn’t even a degree in home economics anymore, Mother. Like Grandmother Jane said, you found a way to get a degree in something becoming obsolete. The whole college even has some different name for that field of study now.”

  “I’ll have you know the skills and learning from that degree are still valid.” Grace felt her face flame. Everyone had always teased her about her degree. “In fact, I learned just the sort of skills that will be useful in running a bed-and-breakfast in the field of home economics, Margaret Jane.”

  “Look,” put in Ken, trying to restore balance like a typical middle child. “We didn’t mean to put down your degree, Mom. That’s not the point. But classes in things like cooking, nutrition, sewing, and table arrangement don’t begin to prepare you for all the aspects of budgeting, accounting, business planning, and marketing that are a part of running an actual bed-and-breakfast.”

  Grace reined in her annoyance. How little regard these children had for her abilities! “Kenneth, if you will think back for a minute, perhaps you’ll remember that I have handled the household budget, planned countless events for Conley Carpets and area civic groups, and been a part of marketing and public-relations efforts for many worthwhile concerns over all these years.”

  Ken shook his head, frowning. “It’s not the same, Mom.”

  “And what about our family home here?” Margaret swept her hand around in a dramatic gesture. “We’ve all lived here since we were little kids. This is where we celebrate Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, and every other kind of event. Doesn’t this place mean anything to you?”

  “Now, Margaret, don’t get overly dramatic.” Grace made an effort to keep her voice calm. “You know you have all suggested to me that I need to downsize and give up the house here. So I have been thinking about that for quite some time now. Plus you know Frank and Elaine want to buy this house. Their lease is up soon on their rental, so the timing is perfect. The house isn’t going to strangers; it will still be in the family for holiday occasions. And, in addition, you’ll all be able to come and stay with me at the Mimosa in Townsend. It will be like a vacation away from home.”

  A frown creased Margaret’s pretty face. “No, it won’t. It will be awful! Townsend is a poky little mountain town. It’s nothing like metropolitan Nashville. No theaters, no symphony, no nice restaurants, no malls. I’m not even sure there’s a post office!”

  “Of course there’s a post office, Margaret Jane.” Grace frowned in irritation. “And Townsend is a lovely, scenic town in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains with more metropolitan cities nearby for the asking. It isn’t as remote as you’re trying to paint it. Also, it is the ideal kind of place for a profitable bed-and-breakfast—right on the highway into the Smokies with the scenic Little River at its back. There’s even a swinging bridge across the river behind the inn.”

  Frank cleared his throat as Grace paused for breath. “Well, of course, I’m sure it’s quite nice there, Grace.” He offered Grace an indulgent smile. “But I thought you were going to buy one of the villas over at Greenwood—one like my mother has. That’s what we all had in mind when we encouraged you to downsize. You’ve raised your family and done a fine job of it. Now, it’s time for you to settle back and carry less responsibility, not more. Enjoy your autumn years.”

  His tone was as kindly patronizing as usual. As was his smile.

  Annoyed, Grace tried for a tactful reply. “Now, Frank, I know your mother enjoys her retirement home at Greenwood. But you must remember she is much older than I am, and her health is not as strong as mine. You were a late child, and she’s almost seventy, while I’m not even fifty yet.”

  “The years go by very swiftly, Grace,” said Frank.

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Well, then all the more reason for me to make a few of my own dreams come true while there is still time.”

  Elaine, usually quiet during family skirmishes, finally leaned forward to speak. “Mother, you’re not doing this just so Frank and I can have the house, are you? I would feel awful if you’re sacrificing the home you love and moving away so you won’t have to see someone else living here.”

  Margaret, ever the drama queen, put her hands on her hips in irritation. “See what you and Frank have done, Elaine—pushing and pressuring Mother to get out of her home so you can have it? You’re making her move away from us all. And I don’t blame her for not wanting to move over to Greenwood. Grandmother Jane said she wouldn’t want to live over there with all those old people who sit around and reminisce about the past and talk about their aches and pains. She said it would drive her crazy.”

  Grace suppressed a giggle. That did sound like Jane. She was eighty-six now, and no one had dared to suggest to her that she move into a retirement community. She lived in an uptown townhouse she’d bought after Charles’s father had died, and she’d made it clear to all of them several times she had no intention of leaving it. Pearly Mae, the help Jane had employed since her early married years, still lived with her and looked after her needs.

  “Margaret, I’m not moving because Frank and Elaine would like the house. However, I am very pleased they want it. You know it’s too large for me. It needs a family. And I’m glad it’s going to stay in our family.”

  She paused. “However, I do have one exception I want to make in the sale.”

  Frank sat forward, looking nervous now.

  “I want to retain the garage apartment for myself so I can have a place to stay whenever I want to come see the family. It has a nice little kitchen, a good-sized living area, a big bedroom, and a bath. It will do very nicely for me when I want to close the Mimosa for a week now and then and come to visit with my family. And I won’t feel like I’m imposing on anyone if I have my own little place.”

  “Oh, we’d be pleased for you to keep the apartment, Mother.” Elaine reached across the table to take her hand. “And I would want you to come back any time you like—and to stay as long as you want. Ava and Sophie love you so much. They will both miss you.”

  Barbara, Mike’s wife, leaned forward then. “That’s the part that is hard for me to understand, Mother Grace. All of your family lives here in Nashville, including five grandchildren who love you. Why do you want to leave us? Have we done something to upset you?”

  “Absolutely not, Barbara. And I will miss being close to everyone. But Nashville is not so far from Townsend. I can come home often—and you can come to see me as often as you’d like.”

  Grace heard Margaret mutter. “Not bloody likely.”

  Ken’s wife, Louise, tapped her fingers on her water glass restlessly. “Well, there are some other problems with your moving that you haven’t seemed to consider.”

  Her voice sounded snippy, and she looked annoyed. “You often keep the grandchildren for us when we have to travel, you know—or when we go on vacation. This summer, you’ve already committed to keep our Ethan for several weeks—and to keep Mike and Barbara’s two, Chuck and Lauren—while we all go on that Alaskan cruise and when we have our week at Hilton Head, and for the Friday nights when we all go to the symphony. Also in the fall there are the ballgames. You always keep all the children when we go to the Vanderbilt games. You always have. It’s like a tradition. The children look forward to it. Traditions are important to children, Mother Grace. And, as you know, children thrive better when they have stable family lives.”

  Louise smiled her nicest schoolteacher smile at Grace. “I really don’t think you’ve been giving enough thought to your grandchildren. You know, you can’t go back and recapture these years. And children grow up all too soon.”

  Grace looked around the table at the adults who had once been her own little children and knew this to be all too true. She listened to the murmur of their voices as they began to chart up all the free babysitting services they were going to be deprived of if she moved. She felt a little ashamed of her children for bringing these
commitments up. They were thinking of themselves now, and of what was convenient for them, more than thinking of her—or their children’s—happiness.

  Mike looked toward the head of the table where Charles used to sit. “What would Dad have thought about your doing this, Mom? Have you considered that?”

  Grace bristled at Mike’s words—particularly at his tone of voice. “Actually, I think your father would have been more respectful of my decision to make this move than any of you.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Margaret put in sarcastically. “Ken’s right. You have no background preparing you to run a business. And Dad would have known that.”

  “Your father and I visited bed-and-breakfasts together in all our travels around the U.S. and in our trips abroad. It was a special pleasure of ours. You should remember I kept scrapbooks of our visits. And your father and I often talked about possibly buying our own bed-and-breakfast someday.”

  “Pipe-dreaming and putting together scrapbooks of visits to inns does not prepare you to run one, Mom.” Mike scowled at her. “And Dad’s not here anymore to help you run a business. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of your doing this on your own. As the head of the family now, I have to express that for him.”

  Grace was growing tired of this discussion. “Look. Although this may seem like an impulsive decision to all of you, it is—after all—my decision. I am an adult woman, not a child who needs guidance. And Charles made sure I would have my own income. You all know that. You may not have much confidence in my ability to run a bed-and-breakfast successfully, but I may very well surprise you. It is often difficult for children to imagine their mother in a career capacity—especially when she’s been at home at their beck and call for so many years. And, obviously, none of you seem to be aware of the work I did and responsibilities I carried in all the nonprofit endeavors I was involved in all these years.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes dramatically when Grace paused.

  “The point is, I have bought this bed-and-breakfast. I do not intend to change my mind about that decision, even though you are obviously not supportive of my plans. And I have every intention of moving to Townsend as soon as I can make arrangements here. Mrs. Oakley, the former owner, says I still have time to get in touch with many of her former clients who come in June and July—and that I also have time to advertise and attract new clients for the late summer and for the fall. Many people visit the Smokies then to see the colors.”