Sweet Southern Hearts

by Susan Schild

  On Chanel’s face the sun burst from behind the clouds. “Thank goodness!”

  “Let’s talk about a plan,” Linny said and pulled out her iPad.

  As Chanel walked her out after their meeting, Linny’s step was light. The Green Sage project was a solid piece of work and she was elated at being able to help this young woman and her team address a problem Linny herself felt so strongly about. As they walked by the work area, a male employee with an afro beard nudged the slouching fellow at the desk beside him, and they both smirked. A young woman watched her, looking sullen. Hoo boy. Linny tried to keep a bland, pleasant expression on her face, knowing she represented corporate and authority to them. What if they hated her? What if she was too old to relate to them and they yawned in boredom during her meetings with them and clammed up, viewing her with disdain? Linny stood up straighter and made herself smile coolly in their general direction. Wincing inwardly, Linny thought about how confident she’d sounded when she’d assured Chanel of her ability to help her get employees on track. From the looks of things it was going to take a lot of work—and maybe a small miracle—to help this group start to grow up and work together.

  * * *

  On the way home Linny had arranged to swing by to visit her sister and other best friend, Kate. She’d missed her while she’d been away on her honeymoon, even though they’d texted every day. Kate kept sending her darling pictures of her new baby, Ivy: asleep with her little fist curled up beside her rosebud mouth, Ivy and one of the family dogs having a stare-off, the infant in a sweet seersucker onesie and bucket hat that Linny had bought for her. After she and her husband, Jerry, had tried for so many years to have a baby, Kate was finally a new mother at aged forty. Though fatuously, over the moon in love with her baby, little Ivy was a screamer and, apparently, an insomniac. Though Kate was the sunniest, most optimistic person Linny knew, her usually mellow, meditation-practicing sister’s texts had a baffled, tired tone to them.

  Can’t get Ivy to stop crying. Colicky?? Calling Dr. Grace as soon as office opens.

  Breastfeeding not the blissful love fest the lactation consultant described. Small sharp-toothed animal gnawing at personal bits.

  Kate opened the door to her charming Arts and Crafts bungalow. Instead of the welcoming smell of freshly baked bread, chicken potpie, or lemons she’d squeezed for homemade lemonade, the house smelled . . . well . . . of old coffee grounds and a hint of dirty diapers. Jiggling a wailing baby in her arms, Kate’s skin was sallow, and she had Lyle Lovett hair and a desperate look in her eyes. No trace of her usual pixie, Audrey Hepburn-gone-country chic, Kate wore a gray T-shirt with stains on it that looked vaguely like continents: there was Asia, Australia.... Linny made herself look away, giving Kate an awkward sideways hug, her niece’s cry volume up so high now that she wished she had on her noise-canceling headphones. “Rough day, sweets?” she said sympathetically.

  “You don’t even know,” Kate said, closing her eyes for a moment and shaking her head. “I haven’t bathed in two days and neither Jerry nor I have slept in three nights.”

  “Poor you,” Linny said sympathetically.

  Her sister thrust the baby at her. “Take her, please, and just let me get a shower. Just a quick shower.” She scurried down the hall with a quick, furtive glance over her shoulder, as if she was afraid Linny might chase her to give the baby back.

  Linny watched her retreating form and thought about it. Kate needed help: practical, hands-on help. Having a baby was hard enough, she’d heard. But having an insomniac crier of a baby after age forty had to leave a woman wrung out.

  Clutching Ivy, Linny dropped her purse and sat on the sofa, repositioning her niece and talking in that singsong voice she used with the dogs. “Hello, Miss Ivy. Oh my. You are such a good crier. You really are.” Remembering the trick she’d seen Kate’s husband, Jerry, use, Linny fished in her purse and dangled her car keys in front of the baby. Ivy’s big blue eyes focused on the shiny keys and she grasped at them, her grizzling subsiding.

  Feeling proud of herself, Linny leaned in and inhaled her niece’s scent: some mix of milk, baby powder, and the organic almond diaper cream Kate used. Ah, that lovely smell. Linny was hit with a wave of longing so strong she had to blink back tears. She wanted one of these. . . .

  But Linny thought about the fraught look in Kate’s bloodshot eyes. She remembered how buoyant she’d just felt walking out of that good meeting at Green Sage, about the sad, hopeless air Neal had after he came home from his mom and stepdad’s house, the grateful look in Jack’s eyes when he walked in the door and she actually had dinner going, her upcoming SWAT Team trip to see the US of A; well, some of the US of A. She had so much going on in her life with still getting to know Neal and blending households. How in the world could she fit in a baby? They’d talked about it, and Jack had said if she wanted a baby, he’d be game for trying, and if she didn’t, that suited him fine, too. But she was thirty-nine, and by the time the baby was in college . . . Linny’s brain hurt when she thought about this baby business.

  Ivy snatched the keys and began to gnaw at them. Linny tried to pry them from the iron grip of her fingers and anxiously looked around for a sanitizing wipe. She’d dropped those keys on the cement at the Shell Station when she was filling up that morning. Linny took a bottle of sanitizer from her purse and hurriedly wiped off the keys, gently swatting away Ivy’s grasping miniature fingers, then worried that the gel would hurt Ivy’s liver if she ingested it. Awkwardly clutching the baby to her, she edged over to the kitchen sink and washed the keys in hot water and organic soap.

  Blowing out a sigh of relief, the two of them sat back down on the sofa. Linny dangled the keys again, but Ivy batted them away and, screwing up her face, wound up for another wailing jag. Her cries were piercing. Linny took a tissue from her purse, balled it up into two puffs, and stuck them in her ears to muffle the sound. Glancing down the hall, she willed Kate to hurry up with her shower.

  If they could do some genetic twirling in an autoclave for gender selection of a baby, surely some geneticist in Switzerland was working feverishly over a Petri dish or trying to come up with an algorithm for a docile, quiet baby who kept banker’s hours. Linny flushed with guilt at her thoughts and held her niece closer despite the increase in decibels. Maybe she’d put those motherhood dreams on the old back burner.

  Kate strolled into the room, toweling off her wet hair and looking as relaxed as if she’d just spent a weekend at the Golden Door Spa. “I can’t tell you how good that felt.” She fluffed her wet hair with her fingers and eyed the baby warily. Sighing, she reached for Ivy.

  Linny pulled the tissue from her ears and held up a hand. “No, Mama. Take a break.” She jiggled Ivy on her shoulder and strangely, magically, the baby’s writhing, tense body started to soften. Linny held her breath,

  And Kate looked at her wide-eyed and hopeful as Ivy dozed off. Her sister touched her hands together in a silent prayer, grinning, and whispered, “You’re amazing. A miracle worker.”

  Linny shook her head and gave a dismissive wave with her free hand. Kate motioned to the playpen and Linny gently eased Ivy onto the padded pink mat floor. “Sleep tight, baby,” she said softly, gently brushing back her wispy curls. Ivy slept.

  She and Kate tiptoed out of the room and back into the kitchen.

  “You need help, Sister,” Linny said firmly as she swung into a kitchen chair.

  “I’m fine,” Kate said with a dismissive wave, slipping into a chair beside her. “You just caught me at a bad time.”

  Linny raised a brow, not believing her. “Have you ever noticed how hard it is for Taylor women to ask for help?”

  Kate looked chagrined. “I know. Why do you think that is?”

  Linny glanced out the window. She and Kate had thought her parents had been happy until Dottie told them the truth last year. Her mama’s transformation from dour woman to one who was living life to the fullest had been remarkable. “Probably got that from Mama. With Dadd
y away so much, she had to learn to do a lot of things on her own.” Linny shook her head, remembering her mother fixing a flat tire, changing out storm windows, and putting up the Christmas tree, with just her and Kate as helpers. “She was probably too proud—and too stubborn—to let her guard down and tell Daddy how much she needed him.”

  Kate nodded thoughtfully. “She only changed when she let us—and her friends—help her.”

  “You need help,” Linny said again, more firmly this time. “Let me check the calendar and clear things with Jack and Neal, but I want to take some shifts with the baby. You need to nap or go to a yoga class. Meet one of your friends for lunch or go out to supper with your husband.”

  Kate opened her mouth, looking like she was going to object, but closed it again. Quietly she said, “Thanks, girl.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So you had a grand trip? How is that darling man and his darling son?” Kate asked.

  Linny told her the details of the honeymoon she’d not already texted her, remembering bits and pieces of the relaxation and elation she’d felt just hanging out with Jack.

  “You’ve got that look of a woman in love. I’m so glad.” Kate gazed at her, smiling sweetly. “I remember our honeymoon. I just loved it. Loved our wedding, too. I can understand why people want to renew vows. That was the most perfect day.” Looking dreamy, she clasped her hands together.

  Linny nodded, remembering Jerry’s nephew drinking too much beer and driving an ATV into the porta-potty the minister’s wife was using, and Jerry’s uncle from Possum Trot, North Carolina, eating his first shrimp ever and going into anaphylactic shock. But she just smiled at her sister.

  Kate returned from her reverie. “So what else have I missed since we talked last?”

  Linny filled Kate in on everything, and her perfect sister gasped, frowned, and looked delighted at all the right places. Winding down from her story telling, Linny cocked her head. “What’s new with you, besides sleep deprivation?”

  Her sister’s eyes widened. “Have you seen the papers?”

  Linny shook her head no and watched her sister rise, push aside a pizza box, and sort through an untidy stack of mail, coupon flyers, and newspapers on the usually spotless counter. Usually an immaculate housekeeper, Kate had to be stressed.

  Kate held up a paper looking triumphant. “You will not believe this! Jerry is a celebrity.” She handed Linny the paper and pointed to a feature article in the Southern Style section.

  The headlines blared: Local Builder Hailed as a Visionary for Gracious Senior Living. In the photo her brother-in-law stood beside an older couple who were wearing hard hats, brandishing oversize ribbon-cutting scissors, and gazing up at him admiringly.

  Linny whistled. “Whoa. Tell me about this.”

  Kate settled deeper into the couch. “Remember I told you Jerry found this old house in the Grandview neighborhood that he bought from a trust to fix up and sell? Well, the termite damage was worse than he thought, and the structural engineer said it was a teardown.” She shook her head sympathetically. “He was worried he’d made a huge financial mistake.”

  Linny listened, rapt, but also wondering how she had missed such a big story in Kate and Jerry’s lives. She’d been Miss Me-Me-Me ever since she got going with the wedding and she was going to be a better sister from now on.

  Kate pulled one of her legs up on the chair and went on. “Anyhow, turns out it was zoned for more than one house. He’d been reading about the lack of housing options for older people who want to downsize and he’s building these small-spec homes: really pretty, low-maintenance, clapboard-sided cottages. They’re just one story, but they’re laid out so they feel bigger. They have small yards, courtyards with fountains, small trees inside, and walking paths.” She clapped her hands excitedly. “So the design is a big hit with people who don’t want to live in senior condos or places with shared walls. He had a bidding war on the first one he put on the market and has already presold the rest. The best thing is, he’s really happy.” She gave Linny a meaningful look. “He loves working with older people. Don’t ever tell him I told you this, but he says he’s found his calling.”

  “Gosh,” Linny said, touched at hearing Jerry had said that. “Very big news. Exciting.”

  “It is,” Kate said. “After barely hanging on through the recession and then scrambling all over the state to find work when things stated to come back, now this,” she said wonderingly.

  Linny nodded, getting it. Jerry’s drive to do whatever it took to keep the business strong—and his workaholic tendencies—had caused trouble in the past between him and Kate. “He can build what he likes and he can stay closer to home.”

  “That thrills me, especially with Ivy’s arrival,” Kate said, smiling. “He’s only looking for projects in this area. He even claims he’ll be home for lunch some days.”

  “That’s big, Kate. Tell him I’m proud of him.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “I need to run. I’m trying to do regular meals each night at six. Figure Neal probably needs a routine, and to enjoy a quiet supper with nobody yelling.”

  “Of course he does,” her sister said indignantly. “Vera and Chaz ought to have a bucket of cold water thrown on them, just like you do when you break up a dogfight.”

  Linny gathered her purse, enjoying the mental picture. “Or we could put them on a permanent perch on a dunking bench over a vat of ice water, and I could have a remote-control-release switch at the ready. Any time they started acting up, I’d push that button.”

  Kate giggled, a happy sound coming from a woman who’d looked so close to the end of her tether just forty-five minutes earlier. “Keep me posted on every little thing.”

  Linny hugged her sister, who now smelled like lilies of the valley. She pulled the overflowing plastic bag from the trash can and snagged the pizza box to drop them at the big rolling cans outside.

  Her sister sent her a grateful look. “Love you, girl,” she called quietly.

  “Love you back,” Linny said.

  * * *

  After a small culinary victory at supper—a dump-the-bag-in-the-skillet type chicken and vegetables dish that both men liked—Linny glanced at the weather app on her phone and at the open door of her closet, stumped and obsessing as she tried to pick clothes for the trip that was just days away now. She never got packing right. She always seemed to bring shorts for the snowstorm or kicky heels for the spelunking trip.

  Her shoulders slumped as she glanced back and forth from her hanging rows of clothes to the extended forecasts and projected temperatures for North Carolina and Tennessee. Though she hadn’t put one item in her rolling bag, she was already overwhelmed. When the phone rang, Linny glanced at it, hoping for a reprieve. She smiled as she saw Diamond’s name: her friend, the whip-smart, rich girl attorney who’d helped Linny track down the money Buck had stolen and hidden from her. “Hello, Diamond,” she said warmly. “Help. Distract me. I’m packing.”

  “Hello, my little poodle,” Diamond trilled. “I called to whisk you away for lunch. Late wedding present, etcetera, etcetera. Are you free Friday at eleven?”

  “I am.” Linny grinned, looking forward to hearing about her over-the-top friend’s latest adventures.

  “Mary Catherine’s coming. I’ll pick you two up at your place,” Diamond said breezily, then hesitated. “I need some girlfriend-type advice, too.”

  Linny’s antennae went up. Diamond rarely sounded so earnest. “We can do that,” she said, wondering if Diamond’s boyfriend Butch had proposed. She and Mary Catherine had been matchmakers for the unlikely pair: Diamond and the rugged, still-waters-run-deep big guy who owned Tucker Farms Sporting Clay Course. “Can you give me a hint? Should I be saving a date?”

  “All will be revealed,” Diamond promised, sounding mysterious. In a cheeky tone, she added, “I’ve been dreaming of fresh shrimp. Ta-ta, sweetcakes.”

  Linny ended the call and shook her head, smiling. No matter what she did with Di
amond, she always enjoyed herself. Diamond was fun. Too prone to being dutiful, Linny could take a lesson from her friend: lessons on grabbing gusto, on doing just what she wanted and not caring so much about what other people thought, on not being so compelled to be productive and check items off her to-do list. She put her phone on the dresser and firmly closed the door of her closet. Forget the packing. She’d get to it. Right now what she wanted was to round up Jack, Neal, and the dogs and take a long walk down a few country roads in the sunlit evening.

  CHAPTER 4

  Making Adjustments

  The next morning Linny dropped Neal off to visit Vera for the day. Chaz was working out of town so Neal’s day should be a calm one. Afterward, as she tooled on over to her mother’s house, Linny turned on the classical station in the car, trying to calm herself, but her hands stayed cold and clammy on the wheel of her Volvo. She was more than a little nervous about her upcoming driving lesson in the big tank of an RV.

  After the hellos and cheek kisses, all four women sat in Dottie’s living room chattering nervously as they waited for Mack to show up with a friend’s RV so they could practice before the big trip.

  “Did everybody do their homework and go to the rental company’s website to watch the RV orientation videos?” Dessie asked, and everyone nodded.

  Linny had bookmarked the website and watched the videos five or six times.

  “Mack should be here any minute,” Dottie assured them, standing to give a quick glance in the hall mirror. She rubbed lipstick off her teeth and gave her hairdo a few quick pats.

  “Wait, Mama.” Linny rose and zipped her three-quarters-of-the-way zipped dress all the way to the top. Her mother smelled faintly of roses. A new scent, Linny decided. “You smell good, Mama.”

  “Thank you, shug.” Dottie gazed at Linny and turned her head slowly from side to side. “Notice my cheeks? I bought a contouring cream that defines and sculpts cheekbones.”