Sweet Tea and Secrets

by Nancy Naigle

  “Came back a few months ago. Reggie decided he wanted to broaden his horizons, and broad is the operative word there. I decided three was a crowd.”

  “Ouch. Sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

  “Don’t tell me the kudzu telegraph is out of order. But hey, I’m okay. I took one of the limos from the funeral parlor and headed home. Presto chango—Adams Grove’s first limo service.”

  “Welcome home and good luck with the business venture.”

  Macy rattled on like she always had. “Yeah, yeah. I know a limo service isn’t quite a fit for Adams Grove, right? But I’ve got no overhead and nothing better to do. I’ll be wheeling you and Milly around later this week. Sorry to hear about Pearl, by the way. She was a grand lady.”

  “I miss her already.”

  “I imagine so. That why you’re callin’? About the arrangements for Saturday?”

  “No. Milly has all that under control. I’m trying to avoid dealing with the details as long as I can. I guess I keep hoping this is a nightmare, and Pearl will be here to comfort me when I wake up.”

  “I wish that was so, sweetheart. It’s a terrible loss for all of us.”

  “Yeah. It is. I was hoping to catch your dad about getting Pearl’s lawn cut. She’d hate for people to be stopping by with it not looking its best.”

  “Oh, honey, Daddy shut down the lawn service at the end of last season. He and Momma are spending all their time on the B&B now. After ten years of business, Daddy had to finally admit Markham House Bed and Breakfast was going to make it. Ya’ know, one of those ‘if-ya’-can’t-beat-em-join-em’ decisions.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll be mowing the lawn myself, then.” She could do that. Garrett couldn’t tell her what she could and couldn’t do. She was perfectly capable of pushing a mower. No problem. She said goodbye and headed to the back yard.

  Next to the back door, the familiar sight of Pearl’s yard sneakers with the backs pushed down stopped Jill in her tracks. She stretched her leg forward and pushed the tan shoes along the floor with her toes. Finally, she took a deep breath, slid her feet into them and headed out back to get the mower out of the shed.

  When she slid open the door, she was surprised to find the shed empty, except for a few hand tools and a garden cart.

  “No mower and I’ve run off the only help.” Jill slammed the shed door. What else could go wrong?

  She went back to the house to look up the number for another lawn service. Hopefully, someone could work her in today. She still had the mess from the vandals to clean up, too.

  As if on cue, Garrett’s truck idled back up the lane.

  Give me a break here, God, would you? Then it struck her. She’d have to suck it up and apologize, but he’d finish the lawn. Feeling better, she strode toward the truck.

  Garrett never looked her way. He climbed out of the truck with his back to her and slapped his thigh. “Come on, boy.”

  Jill stopped mid-step as one of the biggest dogs she’d ever laid eyes on dropped to the ground by Garrett’s side. She scanned the bed of the truck.

  “I’m not here to finish mowing the lawn, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Garrett seemed to be sizing her up. Thank goodness she hadn’t burst forth with an apology and a thank you. “That’s fine. So, why are you back?”

  “Since you want to do everything that needs doing for Pearl, here...” He shoved a blue leash in her direction. “Meet Clyde.”

  Jill stared at the massive dog panting in front of her. Black, white and tan, she wondered how much of him was body and how much was hair. Not that it mattered. “He’s huge. You’ve got to be kidding. That beast could eat me for lunch.”

  “He won’t bite.”

  She reached out her hand to Clyde. He gave her two big sniffs and then licked the top of her hand.

  “See.” Garrett winked. “He loves women. Took me months to get him to warm up to me, but he loves the girls, don’t ya’, Clyde?” Garrett held the leash out to Jill a second time.

  “What kind of dog name is Clyde?” Jill said, side-stepping to avoid the leash.

  “Pearl named him. She said he had feet the size of a Clydesdale. Be glad she didn’t name him after the king of beers. That was her first choice.”

  “Pearl did enjoy a cold beer,” Jill said.

  “For kidney stones.” Garrett reminded her.

  “I never knew Pearl to have kidney stones. Not once.”

  “See. She was right. It must’ve worked.”

  Jill smiled at the thought. “Wait. Do you really expect me to believe that’s Pearl’s dog?”

  “Yep. We bought him to protect her.”

  “Y’all bought him? To protect her?” Jill shook her head in disbelief. “You’re full of it.”

  “Clyde pulled her garden cart, too. He’s a Bernese Mountain Dog.”

  “This is not my grandmother’s dog. I’d have known if she’d decided to buy a dog the size of a horse.” She cocked her head. “He was never here when I came to visit.”

  “You sure about that?”

  She eyed him curiously. Her visits had been quick. It was possible.

  Garrett nodded. “Maybe she didn’t want to worry you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. No one needs protecting in Adams Grove.”

  He placed the end of the leash in her hand. “I’m afraid it’s true, darlin’.”

  She closed her hands around the leash. “Don’t call me darlin’.”

  “I’m sure the paperwork is in Pearl’s desk. You know how meticulous she was about paperwork. Since you insist on handling everything, I knew you’d want to take care of Clyde, too.” He patted her hand.

  She stood wide-eyed and motionless. “I can’t take care of this dog.”

  “Sure you can.”

  “He’s drooling.” She distanced herself from the slimy string that hung from Clyde’s mouth.

  “Yeah. He does that.” Garrett took a hand towel out of the truck and tossed it her way. “Pearl kept one slung over her shoulder.”

  Jill caught the towel mid-air. “Oh...my...God. This is just gross.” She reached toward the big dog’s chin to wipe the string of drool. “Ewww, nasty.” Clyde nuzzled his face against the hip of Jill’s jeans, taking care of the drool on his own.

  “Lovely.” She rubbed the towel against the shiny spot on her hip.

  Garrett leaned against the door of his truck, snickering.

  “It’s not funny,” she said.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “What did Pearl need with a dog this size?”

  “I told you. She needed protection. Someone broke into the house a few months after you left. She didn’t want a gun. We settled on a dog instead.”

  Another break-in? What’s going on around here? “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

  “You weren’t around,” he reminded her.

  “Quit saying that.” Jill had to admit it did make sense though. “That’s when she got the new television, isn’t it? She told me someone needed it more than she did.”

  “She always had a way with words,” Garrett said.

  “You should have called me.” She winced as soon as the words escaped her lips.

  “Me? I don’t think so.”

  She knew he was right. Her gut surged with guilt, but she sure wouldn’t admit that to him.

  Jill turned her attention back to Clyde. “What am I supposed to feed this beast?”

  “I’ve got you covered.” Garrett opened the tailgate of the truck and hoisted a bag of dog food up onto his shoulder. He took the fifty-pound bag to the front porch and dropped it with a thud. “This should hold him for a week or so.”

  “A week? My God, how much does he eat?”

  “That size dog? As much as he damn well pleases.”

  “I guess so,” Jill said. The heavy dose of sarcasm in Garrett’s voice hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was enjoying this way too much. She patted the top of the dog’s head. “We never had a dog the whole time I was
growing up. I can’t believe Pearl got one after I moved out.”

  “Believe it.” He opened the door to his truck. “Got to go.” He waved from the rolled down window as he drove off.

  “Fine.” Jill slapped her thigh as she’d seen Garrett do. Clyde’s ears perked and he fell into step by her side. “That was easy,” she said, surprised. “C’mon, Clyde. You must be the reason for the picket fence around the backyard. I thought Pearl was trying to keep the rabbits out of her garden.” She opened the gate and the dog ran past her into seemingly familiar territory. “Off you go, buddy.”

  Jill wrestled the monster bag of food from the porch through the front door. Once inside, the bag slid easily on the hardwood floors to the kitchen. She ripped open the top, and dished out a bowl of kibble while Clyde ran around the far end of the yard. She would almost swear she could feel his heavy footsteps. Not wasting a moment, she slipped the huge bowl of food out on the patio and closed the door quickly. In an instant, Clyde ran for the door and began gobbling the food, wagging his huge, feathery tail.

  “I’d better keep you well-fed.” She watched him chow down. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

  She wondered if she’d find anything about this dog in Pearl’s files. It would be just like Garrett to pull her leg for a good laugh at her expense. She went to the library where Pearl paid her bills and kept her records.

  The vandals had strewn files from the cabinet across the top of the desk. Jill gathered and sorted the papers into stacks. It was actually a pretty organized toss, as if a giant had picked up the room and given it one good shake like a snow globe.

  To her chagrin, she found a whole file on Clyde, at least an inch thick.

  “Great.” Jill flipped through the vet records and pictures. Apparently, Clyde was a nationally ranked companion dog. He had several awards of achievement in the file to prove it, and Pearl was his owner.

  Jill leaned back in the chair and slapped the folder closed. Why didn’t you tell me?

  She’d focused on her career since she moved to Savannah, but Pearl never seemed to need anything and Jill certainly never thought Pearl’d be gone.

  Maybe Jill hadn’t asked the right questions. Now she needed answers.

  Chapter Five

  At two o’clock, Jill stepped in a private room with the funeral director at her elbow. An icy fear wrapped around her heart. She slowed as she walked further inside, looking everywhere but toward the coffin in the middle of the room. Flowers, lots of them, lined the edges of the room. An icy flash of loneliness chilled her as she moved slowly toward the inevitable.

  She held her breath, closed her eyes, and took that last step. When she opened her eyes her clamped lips stifled a sigh.

  Seeing Pearl laying there lifeless made Jill’s heart break a little more with every breath she took. A quick look over her shoulder confirmed that the funeral director had left her to be alone with Pearl.

  Jill laid her hand on top of Pearl’s.

  “Oh, Pearl, I miss you already.” She leaned forward, closer to Pearl. A peaceful feeling came over her, warming the iciness that had taken over just moments ago.

  “I didn’t get to tell you about the Kase Foundation event. It went off without a hitch. Just like you said it would.”

  Her voice broke. “I can’t believe you’re not here for me to tell you about it.”

  Jill blew her nose into a lace-edged hankie she’d taken from Pearl’s drawer. Hot tears slid down her face. “Paula Deen showed up just like you said she would. I told her about your blue ribbon pie. She was really impressed.”

  Jill leaned over the edge of the bronze casket, hoping somehow Pearl could hear her or knew how she was feeling right now. Help me, Pearl. I still need you.

  Between sniffles she continued. “I met Clyde today. Why didn’t you tell me about him, or the break-in?” She drew in a stuttered breath. “You’re the most important thing to me—family.” Jill kissed Pearl on the cheek. “I’d have come home in a hot minute.”

  Jill blinked. Pearl’s voice rang so clear in her mind it seemed like Pearl was speaking to her. “I didn’t want to worry you. I was fine, honey,” Jill heard, and the voice sounded so much like Pearl that Jill turned around and then touched Pearl again to be sure she hadn’t fooled death and was still alive.

  “I love you. How I hope you know that.”

  Age—death—was something even Pearl Clemmons couldn’t avoid.

  “I thought you’d be here forever.”

  Jill clung to her memories like she would a life raft in the ocean. She lowered herself to the floor and sat there unable to leave for the longest time. Finally, she got up and slipped out the back door so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone while she embraced Pearl’s memory tighter than ever.

  On the drive home, Jill’s own life seemed to flash before her eyes.

  Is this what it’s like right before you die? A video montage played in her brain. A vivid recollection of time with Pearl. Baking. Knitting. Dancing around while cleaning house. Gardening. Enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

  When she pulled her car in front of the house, she didn’t even remember turning down the lane.

  ***

  Jill sat on the front porch steps so long that she lost track of time. Finally, she gathered her strength and went inside. Cleaning up the mess from the break-in was the only way she knew to escape the sadness. She kicked off her shoes and armed herself with a dust rag and trash bag to straighten up the living room.

  She worked her way around to the hearth. Even in the heat of the summer, the brick stayed cool to the touch. When she was little, she’d sprawl out on it to get cool between sweaty play sessions in the yard.

  There wasn’t one picture on the mantle still standing. Jill righted each precious framed photo, one at a time, dusting as she did. She lifted the one she’d made in Vacation Bible School out of crisscrossed Popsicle sticks. Globs of glue were the only telltale sign that it had once had shells in each corner.

  The picture of her and Garrett at homecoming made her smile. Her hair was so big it looked like she’d break out into country song. Garrett sported a Billy Ray Cyrus mullet. It had been a hot look at the time—at least they’d thought so then. In another picture, she and Pearl grinned for the camera at Jill’s college graduation. Garrett had taken that one.

  At Virginia Tech, she and Garrett had spent hours studying and dreaming about their future. They’d planned Bridle Path Estates, right down to the street names. It was supposed to be a joint venture that would leverage both their talents and preserve the small community they loved. Making those plans seemed so long ago now.

  She picked up the next framed picture and held it close. Pearl beamed with pride holding a huge royal blue rosette at the Festival Days Pie Bakeoff. Grand Champion. Who would win this summer?

  This was Jill’s favorite picture. She opened the back of the frame. The picture had been snipped with an unsteady hand to fit the frame. Pearl’s hand. Jill slid the picture into her back pocket, praying that her memories of Pearl would never fade like those of her parents had. She studied the pictures of Pearl in front of her, memorizing each line and feature—willing her memory to store them.

  She wiped dust from a picture she hadn’t seen before—one of her with Garrett at the Pork Festival last summer. Tan and laughing, they held sticky barbecue spareribs and wore matching “Pig Out” t-shirts. He had a red blotch on his cheek where she’d planted a barbecue kiss just moments before. That had been just days before the break-up. Jill remembered Pearl clicking off at least a half-a-dozen pictures that day. Pearl refused to use a digital camera, and the results were usually a collage of headless people or pictures so out of focus they were useless.

  No one looking at this picture would believe she and Garrett weren’t together anymore.

  “What happened, Garrett?” Her voice cracked.

  Tucked in the corner of one of the frames in back, was a small photo in sienna tones of a much younger Pearl sta
nding arm in arm with a handsome man that Jill had never seen before. Pearl had been so beautiful back then. The young man’s dark, disheveled hair and sharply contoured face was in stark contrast to her grandmother’s soft features.

  Could the man in the picture be her daddy’s father? Only once had Jill broached the subject of the man in Pearl’s life, and the sadness that dimmed Pearl’s blues eyes kept her from ever asking again.

  Jill worked her way around the room, tidying as she went. She turned on the CD player and the music of Yanni flooded the room. Memories of her and Pearl skipping and stomping through the Saturday morning chores sent her into a twirl. They’d float through the house, and then when the tempo went nuts with the drums, they’d flip their hands in the air and kick up their feet like tribal women gone wild. She jumped to the hearth and kept moving to the fast tempo. The rhythm freed her from the worry that had been holding her hostage.

  When a slower song came on, she collapsed on the couch. She was pleased with her quick progress, but her pleasure was short-lived. The dark sadness snuck back and settled in.

  Jill forced herself to get up, take all of the pictures off the mantle and carry the haphazard stack to the kitchen. Lined up, they reached end to end across the dining table. The chair screeched as she pulled it out. She sat down and scooted in closer. These photographs were her life. Her life with Pearl. The best parts. Sunlight poured through the kitchen window reflecting from the picture glass and casting a rainbow on the wall. Pearl always said rainbows were lucky.

  Jill stared into the colors, wishing Pearl was here with her now.

  The ring tone from her phone snapped her out of her daze. She stretched from the chair to the counter to grab her phone and answered with a quiet hello.

  “How’s my girl?”

  Bradley. She dropped her head back. She was still so darn mad at him. She let out a breath and ran a finger across the glass of the picture of Pearl and her blue ribbon pie. “Sad.” She wished she’d let the call go to voice mail.

  “How’d you hear?” he asked.