by Karen White
Because that’s how you can tell the true character of a person. See how they speak and behave toward those who work on the other side of the counter and vacuum their rugs. A woman who can scream at a dry cleaner, then turn around and act like a person of good character and smile at all of her acquaintances and even nod to strangers in church is not a good person. And those boots she just stuck in her oven will never be biscuits, either.
• • •
SUGAR
Sugar sat at the table in Merilee’s kitchen, wondering once again how she’d found herself there. Knowing it was Merilee’s day off and that this was when Merilee usually ran her errands, Sugar had walked down the drive to ask Merilee to take her to the grocery store. However, instead of being a quick visit ending with them both piling into the minivan, Sugar’s trip had ended with Merilee answering the door with puffy eyes and reddened nose and explaining the problem without Sugar professing any interest in knowing. Which wasn’t necessarily true, but it irked her that Merilee would assume she cared.
Merilee had read the blog post aloud—twice—then closed the lid of her small computer before looking across the kitchen table. “Everyone knows—or thinks they know—what happened. But they don’t. I promise you, Sugar, there was nothing going on. It was exactly as I told you and anyone else who asked. It just sounds like a complete lie. And just my luck that the middle school secretary has a family beach house next door to the Blackfords’. I don’t think I can leave my house again. Ever.”
“Well, you’re going to have to because I need to get to Kroger and I’m not driving that death trap of a car Wade found for me.”
Merilee blinked at her through puffy eyes. “It’s a Camry, Sugar. One of the safest cars around.”
“Humph. I don’t drive foreign cars; he should know that. And it’s so small I feel like I’m going to get crushed like a bug by all those huge trucks you mothers are driving these days.”
Merilee closed her eyes, and Sugar noticed how pale she was, and the dark circles under her eyes, which were more pronounced than usual. “This is not about you, Sugar. My whole life was turned around and inside out and I ended up here. I was lonelier than I’d been in a very long time, yet I was finally starting to make real friends and get involved again. And now . . .”
Sugar waited for Merilee to open her eyes before delivering the look she’d once reserved for her older brothers, or for the town council when she’d been mayor. The look that gave her the power to believe that she was stronger and braver than she probably was. “It’s not all about you, either, Merilee. Do you think you’re the only woman who’s ever had to live a life she hadn’t planned on? Or even wanted? Life is a hard business; we both know that. Sometimes you’re the bug, and sometimes you’re the windshield, and that will never change, no matter how old you get.”
Merilee’s face had paled and then flushed pink with anger. And then, to Sugar’s surprise, fat teardrops sprang from the corners of Merilee’s eyes. “I suppose I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did. And I’ll be danged if I’m just going to sit here and watch you feel sorry for yourself instead of getting back up on that horse. Don’t ask me what horse—it’s the horse you’ve been riding on ever since your divorce, afraid to fall off. Well, now you have. It’s not a sin to fall, you know. It’s only a sin if you never get back up.”
“I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. Somebody put it in a blog, for crying out loud.”
“There are worse things in life.” Sugar regarded her steadily and Merilee had the good sense to look contrite. Sugar continued. “Regardless, I believe the whole point of the blog was to urge people to learn the facts first before gossiping with half-truths. Whoever wrote that blog is on your side. And Heather did apologize, admitting—at least to you—that you were the wronged party.” Sugar frowned, looking at the enormous bouquet on the kitchen counter that had been delivered to Merilee with a handwritten note of apology from Heather.
“But I’m not you,” Merilee said. “I still claim to have a heart. I can’t just brush myself off and carry on like nothing’s happened.”
Whether or not Merilee had intended it, those words struck Sugar hard. She took a deep breath and straightened her back, listening as it popped in protest. “You and I and your real friends know that you did nothing wrong. Just like everybody knows that I have no business driving a little car. So pull up your big-girl panties and let’s go to the store. I’m out of sugar and if you force me to drink this dishwater one more time, I’ll complain to someone about elder abuse.” She slid her iced tea glass across the table toward Merilee.
Merilee was in the middle of sipping her tea and choked on a laugh, a few drops running down her chin. “Did you really just say that?”
Having succeeded in lightening Merilee’s mood, Sugar leaned heavily on the table and stood. Picking up her pocketbook, she hung it over her forearm and walked to the front door, peering through the screen. “Speak of the devil,” she said under her breath as Merilee joined her at the door.
A shiny halo of blond hair appeared over the steering wheel of a familiar black SUV—foreign, of course—the various country club and neighborhood gate stickers plastered in a row on the side of the windshield. It would be convenient to have those as an easy reference just in case a person ever forgot where they lived.
“I wonder why she’s here,” Merilee said.
Knowing how Heather liked to hear herself talk, Sugar found her way to one of the front room chairs to wait. “Whatever it is, make sure you let her know that you’re madder than a wet hen about what happened.”
Merilee looked at her with surprise. “I’m not . . .” She stopped, the crease that had formed between her brows not disappearing as she turned to face Heather. She stepped back to open the door as Heather reached her, crossing the threshold with a long garment bag.
“Hello, Sugar,” Heather said sweetly. “Always nice to see you.” She smiled brightly, making something curl in the pit of Sugar’s stomach.
Sugar grimaced in response.
Heather then turned to Merilee and opened her mouth to speak, but Merilee cut her off. “I want you to know that I’m still madder than . . . uh, very upset about what happened. Mostly because it could so easily have been avoided if you’d just communicated with Daniel. Or anyone, really. Even your beach house neighbor, Rachel Evans. Something so easy as a phone call would have made a world of difference.”
Heather’s shoulders sagged, although she was careful not to let the garment bag sag, too. Instead, she moved forward and placed it carefully across the sofa before turning to Merilee. “I know, I know, I know. I have been beating myself up about it ever since it happened. There’s just been so much going on with the gala and all, and with Brooke being sick I let some of the details fall through the cracks. And I have made a vow to myself to never let my cell phone out of my sight so that I am reachable twenty-four/seven. Especially on days when I’ve given both Claire and Patricia time off. I can’t tell you how awful I feel.”
Heather began to tear up and Merilee hastily grabbed a box of Kleenex off the counter and thrust it at her. If Sugar could move a little quicker, she’d whip the used tissue from Heather’s hand and analyze it for actual moisture. She wondered for a moment if, with all the scientific advances these days, they’d developed a test for crocodile tears.
“I really am sorry,” Heather said, embracing Merilee in a bear hug. Completely unmoved, Sugar just stared at her.
Heather pulled away but kept her hands on Merilee’s shoulders so she could look directly in her face. “All forgiven? We’re still friends?”
Merilee nodded. “Of course. I am upset, but I do understand how these things happen.”
Heather beamed. “Wonderful. We’ll have to plan another girls’ trip when Daniel is at home so we can go and have a truly relaxing trip. Deal?”
With a look of relief, Merilee said,
“Deal.”
Sugar just rolled her eyes.
Heather turned around and lifted the garment bag. “Want to see your surprise?”
“Is it my dress?”
Heather nodded enthusiastically as she began to unzip the bag from the top. “Yes. My dress was ready and when I got there they said yours was ready, too. If there are still alterations to be made, I’ll be happy to run you up there for some adjustments.”
She pulled the gown free from the bag and lifted up the hanger. “What do you think?”
The gown hardly looked real. It was something Ginger Rogers or Carole Lombard would have worn in one of the old black-and-white movies or to the Oscars. It was refined and elegant, with a kind of material Sugar had no words for.
“It’s more beautiful than I remember,” Merilee said, her hands over her mouth.
Heather looked more than pleased with herself, as if she alone held the strings to Merilee’s happiness.
Sugar smiled. “It is lovely. Wade will have a hard time keeping his jaw off the floor, much less doing anything else but look at you. You might want to hire a driver.”
Sugar was gratified to see Heather’s smug look drop from her face. Finding her composure, Heather said, “I think everyone will find it hard to look anywhere else. She really does look stunning in it.” She thrust the gown at Merilee. “Here—try it on.”
Merilee took the gown but shook her head. “Not right now. I’ve been cleaning the house all morning, so I’m sweaty and need a shower, and I was about to take Sugar to Kroger.”
Heather looked disappointed. “All right. But call me immediately if you need anything altered and we’ll run it back to the shop.” She pulled her phone out of her purse and held it up like a prize. “See? I have it with me, and it’s not only fully charged, but it’s turned on.”
“Very impressive,” said Sugar. “Which one of your assistants charged it, turned it on, and put it in your pocketbook?”
Ignoring her, Heather leaned over to hug Merilee again. “Thanks for being so understanding. And again, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Apology accepted. In fact, it’s already forgotten,” Merilee said, and Sugar almost had to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t shout out that she hadn’t forgotten and she hadn’t even been there. But only because she was afraid it would make Heather linger even longer, and Sugar had already waited so long that she needed to visit the ladies’ room before they headed out to the store.
Merilee walked Heather to the door to say good-bye as Sugar slowly stood, then headed toward the back hallway to the bathroom. She’d almost reached it before she stopped, noticing the two framed maps hanging on the wall. She hadn’t heard Merilee approach and jumped when she spoke.
“Wade hung them this morning. Thanks so much for letting me hang them both. It’s amazing that he found the second one, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Sugar said slowly. “Amazing.”
“Did you know that your map had another half? I was thinking your daddy might have mentioned it to you when he gave it to you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
Merilee pointed to the clearing in the middle of the woods. “Wade and I can’t figure out what this is. Any idea?”
She didn’t speak right away. “Wade asked me the same thing, and I told him I didn’t know.”
“Because you don’t know, or because you don’t want to tell us?”
Without turning to look at her, Sugar said, “Because when he asked, I didn’t want anyone to know. But now, I think I’ve changed my mind.” She did turn this time, and noticed her glasses were dirty, because there was a smudge in the middle of Merilee’s cheek.
“What made you change your mind?”
“I’m old. I’m allowed.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “It’s the family cemetery. It’s where I visit Jimmy and Mary. I just had the horrible thought that if something happened to me, nobody would know to go visit them. That nobody would care. So I want you and Wade to know.”
Merilee touched her arm, then quickly withdrew, unsure of whether Sugar wanted the interaction. “Is that why you don’t want to sell the land? Because of the cemetery? I’m pretty sure there would be ways to preserve it so that it remains the way it is, surrounded by the woods. I know several neighborhoods with an old cemetery tucked away off the beaten path . . .”
“No. That’s not the reason.” She excused herself and headed into the bathroom, letting the door snap shut behind her.
Twenty-six
MERILEE
“Daddy’s here!” Colin’s shout was followed by the thump of his overnight bag hitting the floor and then being dragged toward the front door. Although both children kept clothes and toothbrushes at their dad’s house, Colin’s stash of books went with him everywhere, along with the field glasses around his neck. He’d wear them in the shower and to school, too, if he were allowed.
Merilee finished clasping the faux drop-diamond necklace Lindi had lent her, looking in the mirror behind her to where Lily sat watching, apparently impervious to the news that her father had arrived to pick up her and Colin for the weekend.
“You look beautiful, Mommy,” she said, her voice filled with awe, her use of the word “Mommy”—something she hadn’t called her since around first grade—making Merilee smile.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She turned around to kiss Lily on the forehead, but Lily held her arm out, stopping her.
“You don’t want to mess up your lipstick.” She slid from the bed, picked up the lipstick tube from the dresser, and dropped it in the tiny black velvet evening bag—also on loan from Lindi. “Don’t forget to reapply after you eat or drink something.”
Merilee gave her daughter a questioning look. “How do you know so much about lipstick?”
“Bailey. She’s not allowed to wear anything more than lip gloss now, but her mother wants her to know the proper way to wear makeup so she doesn’t look like a clown when she’s allowed to wear it the first time.”
“Ah. I guess that makes sense. In an odd, never-would-have-thought-about-that kind of way, but it works.” She winked at Lily, making her giggle.
“And Miss Sugar’s here, too,” Colin called out.
Merilee glanced nervously at the door. “Better go intervene before a fistfight breaks out. I have no idea why she has taken such a dislike to your father.”
“She doesn’t like most people,” Lily said as she pulled open the bedroom door. “She says she finds most of them a vexation to her spirit—that wasn’t a vocabulary word, but I looked it up and it means annoying.”
“Does she, now?”
“Uh-huh. But she says there are a few exceptions. Like Colin and me. Dr. Blackford and you and her friend Willa Faye and Mr. Kimball.”
As Merilee walked down the short hallway, her long silky skirt swishing around her ankles and her incredibly high and sexy shoes tapping on the wood floor, she found herself feeling secretly pleased that Sugar Prescott found her to be one of the few people she didn’t find to be a vexation to her spirit.
She found Sugar and Michael facing off in the front room, Colin wearing a fight-or-flight expression. “Colin, why don’t you go put some of those cookies we made last night into baggies for you and Lily to take to your dad’s? And don’t forget to share with Dad and Tammy.”
She wondered why she’d added this last. Good manners had something to do with it, but she also didn’t think a few extra pounds on Tammy’s young—and pregnant—body would be amiss.
“Wow.” Michael was looking at her, his mouth slightly ajar.
“You like it?” she asked, giving a twirl because she loved the way her skirt billowed when she did, the light changing the color of the fabric as it moved. “It’s just something I found in my closet.”
“I bet,” he said. “I don’t remember anything like that in your closet.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, well, maybe you didn’t look close enough.”
She hadn’t meant it to sound so confrontational but wasn’t upset that it had. She was feeling more confident—most likely due to the time she’d spent at the hair and nail salon with Lindi and Sharlene. They’d even taken her to the Lancôme counter at Belk’s, where a lovely lady named Lupina had done her makeup and shown her how to do it herself. It had been years since she’d spent that much on makeup, but when she’d looked in the mirror, she knew it was worth it.
“You look beautiful, Merilee,” Michael said, and she knew he meant it. She stared at him for a long moment, wanting to see regret, to see him recognize what he’d had all along and hadn’t appreciated. To have him ask her to come back and admit he’d made a horrible mistake. But he didn’t, and she was glad. The thought surprised her. But in that brief moment of clarity she’d realized that she didn’t want him back. It was as if she’d suddenly understood that during her marriage she’d never exceeded his expectations of her. She took full blame, knowing she’d been the one to set the bar so low. But a marriage had to be more than a simple safety net below a tightrope life. All it had taken was distance and time to realize it.
Something had changed in the last few months. A shifting of perspective. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that she was stronger and braver, but she was different. Maybe that was the good that could come from divorce.
“I hope those are sitting-down shoes you’re wearing with that standing-up dress,” Sugar said, eyeing Merilee’s gown over the tops of her glasses. “You’ll need a walking stick by the end of the night if they’re not.”
“Thanks, Sugar. No need to worry. Heather’s providing a bin of flip-flops for those of us who might need to change for dancing.”
“How nice of her. I suppose she would know about feet. She’s spent so many years in those high heels that her feet look like they’ve been caught in a wheat thresher. Bless her heart.”
