by Rhett DeVane
“I’m not hungry.” Rose smiled vacantly. “The coffee might feel good.”
“I’ll bring you a cup. You need to try to eat a little. I’ll fix those eggs.”
Rose sighed. “If you insist.”
A week had passed since Rose laid her husband to rest. Most of the food had been either eaten or thrown away, and the containers rescued by the same women who brought them. An addressed stack of thank you cards rested in a teetering pile on the kitchen counter, finished with the help of Elvina and Hattie. As soon as someone came to stay with Rose, Mary-Esther could leave for the post office then work.
“Why are you worrying about your dolls, Rose?” Mary-Esther poured a cup of coffee and added sugar and cream.
“I hate to think of them with no home. You will take them, won’t you?” The old woman’s rheumy eyes sought hers.
“Your dolls need to stay right where they are. If I took them away, you would miss them.”
Rose grabbed Mary-Esther’s hand when she set the coffee in front of her. Her weak grasp, delicate as rice paper. “Promise me! Promise me, the dolls won’t be thrown out when I’m gone!”
“I will, if you will try to eat a little breakfast.” Mary-Esther busied herself at the stove.
The old woman’s head bobbed up and down. A calm expression spread across her face. “I know you will take good care of my babies.”
“Yes, Rose. I’ll take care of your babies.” Shortly, Mary-Esther scraped the cooked eggs onto a plate and added a piece of buttered toast. “Now you must hold up your end of the bargain.”
*
A couple of days later, Mary-Esther stood on the Herring’s back step, barely in range for the cordless phone. She dialed the number scribbled on a scrap of paper.
“Elvina? Mary-Esther.” She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and lowered her voice. “You asked me to phone if I saw that Jonathan man again. He’s here, and he has that woman with him, I’m guessing his wife. They’re in the living room talking to Rose. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Rose looks bewildered. They think I’m the maid or something. I’m not sure what I need to do, if anything.”
She heard Elvina snort. “Stall them until I get there.”
“You can drive?”
“I still have one good foot. All I need. I’m not up to long distances yet, but I’ve been taking short hops around town. It takes me longer to get in and out with a cast and walker. Do not let them leave!”
“What—?”
“Use your God-given brain, child. You’ll come up with something.”
Dead air signaled Elvina’s disconnect. Mary-Esther slipped back into the kitchen and returned the phone to the charger base.
How would she keep them here? Her gaze roamed around the room and rested on a plastic-wrapped sour cream pound cake. She grinned. No Southern hostess would allow drop-in guests to leave without a cup of coffee and a slice of something home-baked. No conniving rat of a relative hell-bent on ripping off a little old lady would reject the hospitality, either.
She loaded a silver tray with cups, sugar and creamer, spoons, a coffee carafe, and three saucers holding generous slabs of cake. When she entered the living room, Jonathan Watson was perched on the couch, his hand cradled over Rose’s. His accomplice idled in a nearby chair, a bored-stiff expression waxed on her painted face.
Jonathan reminded Mary-Esther of an evangelistic tent preacher with his puffy, stiff hair and pale blue leisure suit. His female partner provided the perfect complement in a tailored, gray wool skirt and jacket with matching pumps and handbag. What hairspray he spared shellacked her curled bouffant. Her lips, outlined a quarter inch beyond their natural borders, shone deep coral. Never trust a woman who paints her lips twice their real size, Nana Boudreau had warned. Judging by the overblown set on this woman, Mary-Esther wouldn’t count on a word that oozed from them.
“I thought you and your guests might like a piece of pound cake and some coffee.” Mary-Esther used her best servant voice, added in as much drawl as she could muster. “The cake is homemade and fresh. One of the neighbors brought it by earlier this morning.”
“Well, now. Isn’t that nice?” Jonathan said, releasing Rose’s hand to accept a plate.
The woman appeared animated for the first time since they had arrived. She dug into the cake as if it was Fat Tuesday and she was giving up sweets for Lent.
“Rose, honey,” Jonathan said between bites, “we really must resolve this issue. The sooner, the better.” His vermin eyes glanced to where Mary-Esther stood. Dismissed, his manner said, you are dismissed!
Mary-Esther swallowed a curt remark and stepped back into the kitchen.
In a few minutes, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Mary-Esther called as she scuttled to the door.
Elvina Houston waited on the front porch, a paper bag in one hand. “Good morning,” she said with a quick wink. “I’m Elvina Houston. Is Rose up for visitors this afternoon?”
“Oh, yes.” Thanks to every saint! Back up had arrived.
Elvina stepped inside, careful to position the walker.
“May I take your wrap?” Mary-Esther maintained the maid ruse.
Elvina handed her coat over with a knowing look.
“Oh, my. Had I known you had company, I would not have dropped by unannounced.” Elvina toddled the walker across the room and paused in front of the seated threesome.
Relief washed across Rose’s features. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. These are cousins of Eustis’s—Jonathan and Sue Ellen Watson from Chipley.” She looked from the couple and back to Elvina. “And this is a dear friend of mine, Elvina Houston.”
Jonathan stood and offered his hand. “Pleased. Our Rose has spoken of you often. Sue Ellen and I were just passing through, you see.”
Our Rose? Mary-Esther steamed.
Elvina handed the paper bag to Rose. “I brought you some of that green tea I told you about the other day. It’s good for the immune system and most everything ailing you. Those Asian people have used it for centuries.”
Rose accepted the bag with a slight nod.
“Mind if I sit down?” Elvina chose a seat before anyone could offer an objection. She motioned toward Mary-Esther who hovered by the kitchen entrance. “Young woman, would you kindly bring me a glass of water, no ice?”
Mary-Esther dashed to retrieve the drink. She heard Elvina speak in a loud voice. “So, what brings y’all to Chattahoochee?”
Mary-Esther delivered the water with a slight curtsy. Elvina shot her a warning look. Okay, a little over the top. Mary-Esther slipped back into the kitchen and positioned herself so she could see and hear the exchange in the next room.
Jonathan motioned toward his wife. “Sue Ellen has friends a few miles this side of Sneads. We were so close, we figured we’d stop and see if Cousin Rose needed anything while we were nearby.”
Needed anything? Mary-Esther clamped her arms across her chest. Like someone to pinch everything Rose owns and cast her to the curb?
“Wasn’t that considerate of you?” Elvina’s lips drew into a strained smile. “It’s so lovely to have family who care about one’s well-being. Don’t you think? We do worry so about Rose. What’s to become of her?”
Jonathan snatched the bait. “Sue Ellen and I were talking with Our Dear Rose about that, Miz Elvina. Eustis put me in charge of everything, so I’m trying my best to guide Miz Rose though this difficult time.”
“Put you in charge, you say?” Elvina said.
His chest puffed up. “I’m the trustee of the estate for Mr. and Mrs. Herring. It is an awesome responsibility I don’t take lightly. Not at all.”
“You speak like a man who knows business, Mr. Watson. Are you?” Elvina leaned forward, clearly savoring the game. Mary-Esther covered her mouth to avoid snickering. One thing she’d say about Elvina Houston, the woman was good.
Sue Ellen chimed in, “Jonathan is the executive sales director of the Chipley Tractor and Heavy Equipment C
ompany.”
“Oh my.” Elvina rested a hand over her heart. “You must be so very proud.”
He glanced down, a pious expression on his face. “I’ve done nicely. Even if I do say so, myself.”
Mary-Esther wanted to make a gagging noise. She held back.
Elvina took a sip of water. “What are you recommending to Our Dear Rose, if you don’t mind me asking? It is so good to hear a real businessman’s opinion on things.”
Rose watched the exchange without comment. Mary-Esther stuffed the urge to run into the room and throttle the pompous idiot and his poodle-haired wife. So often, people treated the elderly this way, talking about them as if they weren’t in the room. Really!
Jonathan Watson leaned toward Elvina. “You might be able to help us out here, Miz Elvina—you being such a good, caring friend of hers and all.” His voice assumed a conspiratorial tone. “Sue Ellen and I are willing to dedicate our time to help Our Rose sell this drafty old house and relocate to a proper facility. Her failing health is such a concern, and we simply can’t bear to have her living here all alone.” His beady eyes flitted around the room. “Anything could happen.”
“A nursing home? You’re talking about a nursing home?” Elvina shifted her gaze to Rose. “Is that what you want, dear?”
Mary-Esther wanted to hug Elvina Houston.
Rose studied her clasped hands resting on her lap. “I’d rather stay in our home.”
Silence cloaked the room. Mary-Esther peeked farther around the corner for a better view. The grand finale had to be close.
Elvina reminded Mary-Esther of an alley cat toying with a mouse. The creature might escape a few times as the tomcat released and pounced again. Finally, when the mouse tired, the bored feline would cease the game with a swift bite. Mary-Esther had watched certain Southern women do the same, the end kill cushioned with soft words and a coy smile.
“As I understand the law, Mr. Watson—and believe me, I do understand the law —” Elvina’s expression hardened. “A trust is a legal instrument that only comes into play when the said parties are deceased. When Eustis passed, according to Florida law, his entire estate rolled to his wife. Rose is still very much alive.”
Elvina’s eyes glittered. “Rose is taken care of. Well taken care of. The lady who rents from her lives a few steps away in the garage apartment. We all watch out for Rose. Someone comes by to take her to church if and when she’s able. Someone brings her food. We take turns riding her uptown to shop. Rose is not an invalid as you implied. She is sound of mind and perfectly capable of making her own decisions. I don’t know if you do things the same way over there in Chipley—” Elvina pronounced the town’s name with a sneer “—but this is our way in Chattahoochee.”
Sue Ellen’s skin paled behind the shellac of make-up, and Jonathan teetered on the edge of the couch. Mary-Esther clapped her hands together without sound.
Elvina’s next words came out slowly, one at a time, heavy with intent. “I have many friends in law enforcement, and more than a handful are judges. Elder endangerment is a subject none of them take lightly. If I am out of line in assuming you don’t have Rose’s best interests at heart, I do apologize.” Elvina offered a saccharine smile.
Sue Ellen stood and stuffed her purse beneath one arm. “Let’s go, Jonathan.”
He frowned. “But—”
Sue Ellen spat out the last word through bared teeth. “Now.”
Mary-Esther scurried toward the door to show the couple out, but they departed without her aid.
The door slammed shut. Elvina chuckled. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
Rose dabbed tears from her eyes with a linen handkerchief. “Thank you, Elvina. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stopped by. Some of the things they said sounded reasonable. Maybe I should consider—”
“Psshaw!” Elvina dismissed the notion with a sweep of one thin hand. “If the time comes for you to relocate, and it could, it will be your decision to make and not someone else’s, hear?”
Rose reached over and held Elvina’s hand. “You must be my guardian angel.”
“Shoot. I only came by to bring you some tea.” She shot a quick wink Mary-Esther’s way. “And I could surely use a piece of that cake.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Hattie pulled the SUV into a leaf-strewn clearing and allowed her passenger to take in the view.
“This is about the prettiest place I have ever been,” Mary-Esther said.
“Daddy built the dam at a spot where three springs converged. Even in the worst drought, this pond stays at a consistent level.”
Hattie loved the small valley. Tall hardwoods circled the pond, their autumn leaves reflected in the rippling surface. At the crest of one hill, a wooden, screened gazebo stood with a series of stairs and decks descending the slope to the water’s edge. Parallel to the steps, a waterfall cascaded over river boulders. Clearly manmade, but beautiful. And the sound! She rolled down her window to hear the water sluicing through the rocks.
“C’mon. Let’s go sit for a bit.” They got out. Hattie led the way to the gazebo and motioned Mary-Esther toward a row of rocking chairs. “I come down here when I need to find a little peace. Daddy loved this pond. Mama too. But especially Daddy.”
“Nice.”
Hattie pointed to a rusty lean-to shelter on the opposite side of the pond. “Daddy built that. Looks awful, but neither Bobby nor I had the heart to tear it down. Used to be, you had to descend a steep set of dirt steps to get to the water. They washed out every time we had a hard rain, as did the road on that side of the embankment; one reason we chose this side for the gazebo. Back then, you were doing good to go half-way down the hill in a four-wheel drive truck without getting stuck up to the axles in clay.”
“Are there fish in there?” Mary-Esther asked.
“Catfish. Big ones. Fun to catch too.”
Mary-Esther’s nose crinkled. “I didn’t much like catfish back home. They tasted kind of . . . muddy.”
“A lot of wild catfish do. They’re scavengers. Not the same with the channel cats in here. They don’t have to eat junk off the bottom. We feed them commercial floating food. The meat is white and clean, similar to grouper.” Hattie’s expression softened. “Mama and Daddy loved to entertain. Nothing fancy. He would catch up a big mess of catfish, and we’d invite folks out. He had this frying contraption he made himself. He’d dip strips of catfish fillets in beer batter and deep fry them. Man, were they ever good. Not greasy at all.
“Mama cooked the French fries inside while he handled the fish outside. That way, it all came out hot at the same time and the house didn’t smell too stinky. As soon as he finished the fish and put the doughboys on to cook, he would signal her to start the fries. They did it for so many years, they had the timing perfect.” Hattie snapped her fingers.
Mary-Esther’s crossed arms released their grip across her chest and her face relaxed.
“We’ll have to do that, soon,” Hattie said. “Bring Miz Rose if she’s feeling well enough.”
“She’d like that.”
“How is she?” Hattie asked.
“Better, since those awful relatives left her alone.”
“Ah, yes.” Hattie nodded. “I heard.” They rocked for a moment before she added, “You could invite a friend, if you’d like.”
“I don’t know how your brother would feel about that.”
“Bobby will get over himself, eventually.” Hattie swiveled to face Mary-Esther. “It takes him a while to warm up to new people. Used to think being in law enforcement all those years made him that way. He had to be suspicious of everyone, to a point.” She turned back to face the pond. The rockers creaked.
“Lately, I’ve come to accept; that’s just Bobby. He and I didn’t get along too famously for years. Things are much better since he stopped crawling into a bottle to find his comfort.”
“I’m well aware of how alcohol affects people,” Mary-Esther said. “My mother
drank on and off for years. I was raised, for the most part, by Nana Boudreau.”
“I never will understand the hold it has on some people. I mean, I have a beer from time to time, or a glass of merlot. Not that I’ve never overindulged. In college, I pitched my share of keg party drunks. The older I got, the less I wanted it.” Hattie stopped and took a deep breath. “On the other hand, you rarely saw Bobby without a drink in his hand. When his first wife bailed, he sank into it deeper and deeper.”
“Seems your brother expects me to show up one day with a herd of attorneys in tow, ready to snatch land and money.” Mary-Esther stopped rocking and looked at Hattie. “That isn’t my intention. You must believe me.”
“I do. Bobby will come around.”
“I can see where you both might consider me a big threat if I prove to be the missing sister.” Mary-Esther took a deep breath then exhaled. “I don’t have the energy or the desire to threaten anyone.”
A great white egret sailed overhead and landed with a graceful swoop at the water’s edge. They watched in easy silence as it stepped with spindly legs through the muck, eyed its prey, and jabbed into the shallow water. The sun glinted from the wiggling minnow dangling at the tip of the sharp beak before the bird flipped back its head and swallowed with one swift movement.
“It’s like watching Wild Kingdom,” Mary-Esther said. “I used to love that show.”
“Me too. With what’s his name?” Hattie tapped her temple.
“Marlon Perkins,” they said in unison after a couple of seconds.
Mary-Esther tipped her head back and laughed. “I can remember that, yet I have a tough time recalling what I had for breakfast. So many of the kids nowadays have no clue who he was. More and more, I realize I’m the old fart now.”
Hattie asked after a few minutes, “What was she like, your . . . mom?”
“I know.” Mary-Esther thrummed her fingers on the rocker arm. “I can’t really decide what to call Loretta either.”
