Queen of Broken Hearts

by Cassandra King

  I stared at him in astonishment. Before he got his heart broken? I couldn’t be hearing him right. “Clare?” he said, tilting his head to the side. Stunned, I moved toward him blindly and instinctively, my hands reaching for him like a drowning person might reach for a life preserver. Moving quickly, Mack pulled me close against him, and all he said was “Clare … oh, my God.” With that, I was lost. The fears, the inhibitions, the uncertainties left me. Like the car top, they folded in on themselves, disappearing from my sight and allowing the crystal beauty of the night sky to shine down on us.

  From that day on, Mack pulled me into the magic circle that he, Dory, and Son had formed, and he made sure I stayed there in spite of everything, all the odds against us. When Dory recovered from the initial shock of the two of us as a couple, she got caught up in the romantic but foolish notion that I could be Mack’s salvation, conveniently forgetting her own warnings. Of course! she declared. She’d been wrong, and I was perfect for Mack, being so different from the shallow, frivolous girls he’d always had by the droves. She was convinced I was Mack’s destiny, sent by the gods to save him from himself. I doomed myself by falling into the same trap. I was not the first woman to make the mistake of thinking she could save a man from his demons, but not many others failed as spectacularly as I did.

  Chapter Six

  After my unsettling encounter with Son, the rest of my day feels fractured, as though a thunderstorm blew up in the middle of a cloudless day, bringing with it a chill wind and dark sky. I’ve been jumpy and unable to concentrate since Son left. Between clients, I called Dory and asked if I could come out and talk with her after work. I thought doing so would help settle me down, but it didn’t. Even during a session, my mind kept wandering back to the past and the memories that Son’s visit had stirred up. I made a mistake by talking to him first thing this morning, and I’ve been angry and exasperated with myself since. I thought I’d learned that the way you start a day usually determines how the rest of it goes. Stupid me, I allowed Son’s outburst to poison everything, even the air I breathed. Or so it felt. The minute the last client goes, I can’t wait to get out, and I leave early, rare for me. Etta’s so tickled that I think she’s going to shove me out the door before I can change my mind.

  Outside Casa Loco, I pause to inhale a deep breath of the tangy air blowing in from the bay. My first thought is to go to the waterfront park and sit on one of the benches. The feel of the breeze on my face, as well as the calming influence of the wide expanse of Mobile Bay, will surely dissipate my tension. I used to go there often. I’d watch pelicans soar over the bay before they dropped down to float on the waves like small brown dinghies. Sometimes I’d take Abbie, and we’d bring along a sack of stale bread. She’d break off chunks and toss them high, then squeal with joy when the seagulls dove for them with their high-pitched calls of “Aahh, aahh!” Zoe Catherine taught Abbie the difference between their winter and summer plumage, and she’s probably the only child on the beach who can point to a mottled brown gull and pronounce that it’s not fully grown yet. Abbie … It hits me what I want to do this afternoon. I want, and need, to be with Haley and the kids. Recalling what day it is, I reverse my path, heading back toward town.

  As soon as I push open the door of Mateer’s, a blast of cold air from the air-conditioning hits me in the face like a splash of ice water. I spot Haley and Jasmine before they see me. Their table is in the back but in full view of the front door, where they can watch everyone who comes in and out. Mateer’s is the equivalent of a village pub, the place to be if you want to observe the people of Fairhope and hear the latest talk. Every Monday afternoon from September to June, right after the faculty meeting at the elementary school where they teach, Haley and Jasmine can be found here, drinking margaritas or one of the martinis Mateer’s is known for. They call it their mental-health break, saying if their principal weren’t such a prick as to schedule faculty meetings on Mondays, they wouldn’t have to spend so much on booze. This is their first one since school started. They don’t see me because their heads are bent together as they whisper, giggling like two teenagers instead of a couple of respectable teachers approaching thirty. I pause a moment to relish the sight that still has the power to touch me: the contrast between my daughter, fair, flaxen-haired Haley, and Etta’s youngest, Jasmine, with her ebony skin. Although the schools of North Florida were fully integrated by the time I entered junior high, there was still a chasm caused by the ugly years of segregation, so I had no black friends growing up. Haley and Jasmine have been as close as sisters since their preadolescent days.

  When I get to their table, Haley jumps to her feet, her face lighting up. “I’m not believing it—look who’s here!” For a moment her striking resemblance to Mack takes hold of me like a cold hand around my heart, and I stumble on a loose tile.

  “Hey! You get started on a dirty martini early, Aunt Clare?” Jasmine cries, and I laugh with them.

  “I wish,” I say, hugging and kissing both young women before pulling up a chair and dropping my briefcase to the floor. I used to stop by on Monday afternoons and have a drink with them on a fairly regular basis. Matter of fact, even though we live within a few miles of each other and we’ve talked often on the phone, I haven’t seen Haley in weeks. Between my demanding work schedule, Dory’s problems with Son, and Lex’s recuperation, there’s been no time for lingering over dirty martinis—or any other kind, for that matter.

  Haley motions for the waiter, and I order a glass of merlot, even though she and Jasmine boo and hiss, saying I should have a margarita instead. “Maybe I’ll get my favorite person another one,” Haley says, and Jasmine jerks her head up.

  “Whoa, girl. That’ll be your third, right?” she asks, and Haley grins.

  “Who’s counting?”

  Both young women laugh, and I smile indulgently. When you’re unwinding from the tensions of being closed up in a room of kindergarten kids all day, everything brings on high hilarity, especially the longer they stay and the more drinks they have.

  “Just teasing, Mom,” Haley says. “I limit myself to two and make them last as long as I can. Right, Jazz?”

  Jasmine pretends to consider the question, and Haley pokes her playfully with an elbow before turning her attention to me. “Mom? Some of the teachers were asking me about a letter to the editor that appeared in Friday’s paper. I hadn’t seen it, so the librarian gave me her copy. I was furious about it! Did it hurt your feelings?”

  I shrug. “A little. But things like that go with the territory.”

  “Mama was mad about it, too,” Jasmine tells her. “She swears she’s calling that old fool who sent it and giving him a piece of her mind. I told her that Haley and I would call him, too. Dumb redneck!”

  I pat her arm but say firmly, “I talked to Etta and got her calmed down. I’m touched that all of you want to defend me, but trust me. The best thing to do is ignore it.”

  “Mom’s probably right, Jazz,” Haley says. “I’d love to find that Mr. Allen and spit in his face for saying shitty things about my mother. But if we do anything, it’ll stir things up. If we don’t, it’ll die down.”

  I agree with a nod, then ask Haley, in an effort to change the subject, “Did Austin pick up the kids today, or did you leave them in after-school?”

  She glances at her watch. “He’s picking them up in a few minutes, believe it or not. Since Mr. Big got that promotion, he doesn’t have time for anything but work. He’s as bad as you, Mom. Everybody I know is a workaholic. Except me.” She cuts her eyes over to Jasmine. “Well, and you, Jazz.”

  “So, how’s it going with his new job now that school’s started back?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine. At the beginning of the summer quarter, my son-in-law, Austin, was promoted to head of special services at the nearby community college where he’s worked since he and Haley married. With her job as a kindergarten teacher and Austin’s as a counselor in the learning lab, their budget has always been tight, so both are hoping
the promotion will provide them with more necessities and even a few luxuries. The downside is, Haley worries that the long hours and extra responsibilities of Austin’s job will be as much of an adjustment for her as for him. She says that she’s gotten spoiled, having Austin around to help so much with the kids and domestic details. Fair or not, the major responsibilities of running a household often fall on the wife and mother, as she’s about to find out.

  “Oh, it’s going full force.” Haley gives me a tight smile, pushing a silky strand of hair behind her ear. “Already I can tell that things are going to be really different at the Jordans’ humble abode.”

  “Austin’s new hours will take some adjustment, but you’ll do fine, wait and see.”

  “If not,” Jasmine offers, “your mom’s a shrink. She’ll straighten all of you out. Right?”

  With a laugh, I pat her arm fondly. “If not, I’ll send Etta over to do the job instead.”

  “There’s a scary thought,” Jasmine says with a shudder. “Mama doesn’t take any crap off anyone. She’s always on my case.”

  “A mama’s prerogative, my dear. I’m the same with Haley.”

  Haley shakes her head. “Not true. You’ve been the perfect mother from day one. The best thing that’s happened in my life, without a doubt.”

  Startled, I blush and say lightly, “Goodness, sweetheart. I thought that honor belonged to Mr. Perfect.”

  Jasmine winks at me. “Ranking above Mr. Perfect! Now, that’s something. You’d better be flattered.”

  “I’m not only flattered, I’m stunned,” I agree. Haley takes a lot of teasing among her girlfriends for the way she dotes on her husband, even after several years of marriage and two children. She and Austin met in her first year of college, when she fell hard and fast for him and never dated anyone else, reminding me of how it had been with me and Mack. When she called to tell us that she’d found the perfect man, my first thought was: Uh-oh. On meeting this paragon, though, I had to admit she’d come close. Bright, handsome, and witty, Austin Jordan is also an idealist dedicated to helping students with learning disabilities. Although Haley joins her female colleagues in the popular sport of male-bashing, she’s mainly talk.

  “I never said Austin was perfect,” Haley protests. “How could he be, considering his gender?”

  Jasmine snorts. “Or the way I put it, he’s got one, doesn’t he?”

  Haley’s silver-gray eyes are soft as she regards me thoughtfully. “Okay, let me amend the perfect-mother pronouncement, then.”

  “Watch out,” Jasmine says. “You’re about to take a nosedive, Aunt Clare. Told you no one could compete with Mr. Perfect.”

  “I can’t allow you to outrank Austin until we see more of you, Mom,” Haley says with a frown. “Abbie misses her grams bad, and I haven’t seen you in over a month.”

  “I know, I know.” I sigh. “That’s part of the reason I’m here. To see you—and Jasmine, of course.” We raise our glasses, touch them, and smile at one another. “And to arrange a time to visit the kids. When I leave here, I’m going to Dory’s, but I’d like to come by your house afterward, if that’s okay. I know it’s a school night, but I don’t think I can wait till this weekend to see the kids. I’ll read them a bedtime story and be on my way.”

  “They’ll be thrilled to see you. I can’t wait to tell them.” Haley studies me over the salted rim of her margarita glass. “On top of everything else, you’ve been hard at work getting things lined up for the new retreat site, haven’t you? Gramma Zoe told me that you and your Yankee boyfriend were at the Landing Saturday, planning for the remodeling. That’s so exciting!”

  Jasmine’s dark eyes dance playfully. “I didn’t even know you had a new boyfriend until Gramma Zoe told us. About time, and he’s cute, too. I like big men, myself. More to love.”

  “You like any kind of man, girlfriend,” Haley says dryly.

  “You both know better than to listen to Zoe Catherine,” I say. “I’ve told her and everyone else that nothing’s going on with Lex and me.”

  Haley smiles mischievously, nudging Jasmine with her elbow. “Rye is going to be so jealous, Mom, you with a new boyfriend. Right, Jazz?”

  “Oh, you two!” I put a hand over my eyes. “Don’t start on poor Rye again, please.”

  Haley and Austin, and now Jasmine, have picked up where Mack left off, teasing me about Rye. All during our marriage, Mack insisted his cousin was in love with me. It didn’t help that Rye never got around to marrying, in spite of being one of the most eligible bachelors in the area and having an endless string of beautiful girlfriends. I tried in vain to convince Mack that it wasn’t me Rye was in love with, it was Dory, but Mack didn’t believe it. After Mack died, Rye fell rather naturally into the role of my escort, so everyone assumed we’d end up together eventually.

  Haley turns to Jasmine, eyes gleaming wickedly. “Hey, did I tell you about the time Austin and I dropped in on Mom late one night on our way home from the movies?”

  “I hope you learned to knock next time,” I tell her tartly.

  “Oh, goody! I can’t wait to hear this,” Jasmine cries.

  “Because Rye’s car was parked out front, we knew Mom would still be up,” Haley says with a chuckle. “So Austin and I go barging in and catch my mother and my dad’s cousin in a compromising embrace! Austin said it’s a good thing we weren’t a few minutes later.”

  I look at Jasmine and shake my head in denial. “That’s absolutely ridiculous, and Haley knows it. Rye was teaching me to tango.”

  “Tango, smango,” Jasmine hoots. “Sounds to me like he was teaching you to shag.”

  The two of them laugh so loud that other patrons glance our way to see what’s causing such hilarity. “Not funny,” I say, pointing a finger at Jasmine. “I’m telling your mother on you, young lady.”

  “One thing you can say about Rye,” Haley says, looking around but lowering her voice so as not to be heard by all of Fairhope, “at least he believes in keeping it in the family.”

  “Hey, you should marry him, Aunt Clare. You wouldn’t even have to change your name,” Jasmine adds.

  Haley leans toward me. “But best of all, you’ve inspired a new joke for our book. Don’t you think this makes the new one more appropriate, Jazz?”

  “Oh, God,” I say with a groan. “Why does hearing that make my blood run cold?”

  As their contribution to the first divorce-recovery retreat I held, Haley and Jasmine made a booklet that they called “The Lighter Side of Divorce,” xeroxing copies to give out to the participants. I’d been hesitant; even though it was cute and funny, I wasn’t sure how the participants would react to it. I’d ended up putting the booklets in a basket with a sign inviting them to take one if and when they needed a touch of humor. I was stunned when the booklets were such a hit that Haley and Jasmine couldn’t turn them out fast enough. Everybody wanted copies for their friends, and Haley and Jasmine were currently in discussion with a local press about publication. The booklet contained anecdotes and lists that Haley and Jasmine made up, in addition to the divorce jokes they were always adding.

  Haley goes on, oblivious to my glare. “Listen to this one, Mom: ‘If you get a divorce in Alabama, are you still cousins?’”

  Their laugh is more subdued this time, but my face flushes when I notice several people glance our way again. I hiss at Haley, “People can hear us, and they’ll know who we’re talking about.”

  “You sound a little paranoid to me, Doctor,” she replies.

  “Oh, really? How many men in Fairhope are named Rye?”

  She holds her hands up in resignation. “Okay, okay—I can always tell when I’ve pushed you too far. Besides, since you’ve got a new boyfriend, the one who shall remain unnamed is out of the picture anyway. Right?”

  “Wrong on both counts, Miss Priss. I don’t have a new boyfriend, and I still do things with you-know-who when I can. For my last mental health break, he took me dancing.”

  “Dancing or shag
ging?” Jasmine asks.

  Try as I may, I’m unable to maintain my scowl, and I end up laughing with them. “Now you girls see why I haven’t been here in so long.”

  Haley says, “Time to move on to other gossip—bet Mom hasn’t heard about you and Tommy.”

  “How could she?” Jasmine snaps. “There’s nothing to hear.”

  “Uh-oh, do I detect a love interest?” I ask.

  “Ask Jazz how she knows your buddy Lex Yarbrough, Mom, and where she’s seen him to know that he’s cute.” Haley takes a sip of her margarita, licks salt off her lips, then says, “Jazz has started spending a lot of time at the marina. She’s decided she wants to buy a boat.”

  “A boat? Really, Jasmine? What kind of boat?” I’m surprised to hear this, since she’s never been particularly interested in boating that I know of. Plus, like most teachers, she has a very limited budget.

  Jasmine covers her eyes with her hands. “Don’t listen to her.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t care what kind of boat it is as long as she can keep it at the marina,” Haley goes on. “Then she’ll have an excuse to see Tommy. Not that she could miss him.”

  It takes me a minute to know who she’s talking about, and I stare in surprise. “You don’t mean Tommy McNair, do you?”

  Haley nods, grinning, and Jasmine says, “Haley’s gotten it in her head that I’m interested in Tommy, but it’s not true. I just think he’s nice, is all.”

  Haley’s gray eyes sparkle. “Here’s how it happened, Mom. A couple of weeks ago, Jasmine was at the waterfront, bar-hopping, and her car wouldn’t crank. So Tommy McNair came out, and being a big old macho guy, he tried to fix it. Of course, it’s such a piece of crap that he couldn’t, so he ended up giving Jazz a ride to her apartment. Since then they’ve been talking on the phone a lot. Plus, Jazz suddenly develops an interest in boats and has gone by the marina several times, pretending she’s thinking of buying one.”