Sweet Southern Hearts

by Susan Schild

  “Thanks,” Diamond said, ducking her head. “It’s the new, simpler-me look.”

  “Is everything okay?” Linny asked, feeling a flutter of worry. Despite knowing she probably had been hard to reach, Diamond never just stopped by.

  Diamond pointed to two L.L.Bean tote bags on the porch behind her and said airily, “Four weeks’ worth of casseroles. Healthy stuff.”

  Linny blinked disbelievingly. Diamond was the type of woman who might use an oven strictly for storing her cashmere sweaters, if she didn’t already have a huge, cedar-lined megacloset for that. “You cooked for us?”

  Diamond gave a whoop of laughter. “Mother of pearl no! I had my housekeeper, Jean, whip them up. Since I’ve moved to the tiny house she doesn’t know what to do with herself.” She leaned forward and spoke in a confidential tone. “She’s originally from California, and you know how those women are. They all need meaning in their lives. You have got to keep them busy or you know what they do,” Diamond said darkly.

  Linny found herself nodding knowingly and made herself stop. She had no idea what a California woman with too much time on her hands might do. Orchestrate a ceasefire? Reverse global warming? Realizing Diamond was doing her brilliant distractor shtick because she was embarrassed to be caught doing something thoughtful, Linny just smiled at her. “You gave us the perfect, thoughtful gift.”

  Diamond frowned and fiddled with her braid. “I was going to send over a pitcher of Bloody Marys and some Xanax, but I’m trying to be more practical.”

  Linny put a hand to her chest, so relieved not to have to try to scrounge up meals on the fly for the next month. “I am so grateful.”

  “You did me a favor,” Diamond insisted. “I’ve been throwing flour on the kitchen floor and upending flowerpots to keep Jean busy. Cooking for you all gave her meaning.”

  Linny shook her head and smiled. Diamond’s housekeeper wasn’t the only one who was looking for more meaning. “Thank you, Diamond.”

  Diamond shrugged. “I must fly, pumpkin. I’m going to look at a piece of land. Big plans,” she said, looking mysterious.

  Linny cocked her head, intrigued. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “I’ll spill once I get the deal done.” She nodded in the direction of Lucas. “Good luck with the tyke. Learning to like small children is on my new improved-me list. Maybe Auntie Diamond can babysit him after I do the reading.” She whirled off.

  Linny shook her head, bemused. Diamond was growing up. But she felt a spreading warmth on her chest and drew in her breath. “Hey, little man,” she said, grinning at the baby. “That’s your mama you’re peeing on.” As she turned to go back inside, she thought of what she’d said and felt a pang of longing. Your mama. She hoped with all her heart that she’d get to be this baby’s mama forever.

  * * *

  “Neal, Neal,” she called softly and rapped on his door. Sometimes she swore the boy just pretended not to hear her. No response. She rapped again, wincing, and hoped she wasn’t making enough racket to wake Lucas, whom she’d just put down for his morning nap. “Let’s get going, buddy. You need to get your chores done. I’m even going to help you.”

  Neal mumbled something she decided to take as an assent. Poking her head in the other room to check on the baby, she paused for a moment and smiled, just taking him in. Hard to say whether he looked more adorable when he was sleeping or when he was awake. Making a mental note to check in with Mary Catherine later to see how the Kandi hunt was going, she gave a little shudder as she imagined a petulant Kandi demanding Lucas’s return. She pushed the thought out of her mind, something she’d had to practice more and more since she’d fallen in love with the baby.

  Closing the door softly, Linny grabbed the baby monitor and checked to make sure it was working. Grinning, she heard the cute little whistling sound Lucas made when he slept. She slipped the monitor in a backpack, along with two stainless-steel glasses of ice water. In the mud room she pulled on her barn boots. Still no Neal. With a sigh of exasperation, she knocked on his door again. “Neal, if you want to go to meet the Hurricanes, I need you at the barn now.”

  As she strode down toward the pastures, she’d glanced surreptitiously behind her to make sure Neal was following her, and he was. Good.

  Was she crazy taking baby Lucas along to the Meet the Fans event? Nah, she could do it. Maybe she could find him a darling little jersey. Linny thought about all the rigmarole involved in taking a baby anywhere and began to make a mental list. She shook her head wryly. Just a few weeks ago—before Lucas arrived—she’d stared at her sister uncomprehendingly as she detailed how much planning it took to take the baby with her to the grocery store. Now she knew Kate wasn’t exaggerating.

  * * *

  The big bay named Reggie stuck his head in the window of his stall from where he stood outside the barn. He nickered and watched as Linny used a pitchfork to rake up a pile of soiled bedding made of wood pellets and shavings. “Hey, big guy,” Linny called, and he blinked his chocolate brown eyes at her. Pulling up her T-shirt to dab the perspiration from her forehead, Linny thought about Neal. It was two steps up, one step back with her stepson. He could act loving and cooperative one minute and revert back to negative and snappy the next.

  Helping out with Neal took time, but she’d soon start to have more. They needed to shop for school clothes and she’d promised to take him to the IMAX to meet his best friend, Tyler, for a movie about humpback whales. She’d also agreed to oversee Neal doing a list of chores Jack had created to help him earn his allowance. Jack wanted his son to have a good work ethic, but supervising the young man when he was in a balky mood was the hardest work of all. She should get an allowance, she decided.

  Linny glanced out the barn door and blew out a sigh of exasperation. Where was Neal? He’d been gone ten minutes and all he’d had to do was pull the full manure cart around the barn to the composting bins and dump it. Ned would later activate a blowing system, cook the waste, cure it, and then sell it. But Neal was dawdling like he had been all morning. The sun was climbing in the sky and it was going to be a steamy August morning. They were almost finished, but Linny wanted this chore done before it got much hotter. She strode off to find him.

  Neal was leaning against a fence post beside the empty manure cart, studying his phone. He glanced up when he saw her, shook his head wonderingly, and pointed to his cell. “Do you know that a horse produces almost fifty pounds of manure in a day? So our six horses produce three hundred fifty pounds of manure every day.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Linny said, trying to tamp down her annoyance. “But I do know this job is taking twice as long as it should because you’ve been stopping every five minutes to look up a fact on your phone. This is the last time I’m going to ask you to put it away.” She was nervous at the implied or else because she hadn’t thought through what would happen if he didn’t.

  He gave a martyred sigh but shoved the phone in his pocket. Grabbing the handle of the cart, he tromped back toward the front of the barn. Over his shoulder, the boy sent her a baleful look. “All I’ve done since I came to stay with you two is clean up poop.”

  Linny closed the gate and tried not to roll her eyes. “You mean other than going camping in Arizona, seeing famous planetariums, going to the museum, and meeting the Hurricanes?”

  “I mean it,” he insisted. “This is like when the pirates shanghaied people and forced them to work as crew on their ships.”

  Linny nodded as they walked through the open doors of the barn. No point in debating.

  But even without her speaking, the boy continued. “And why do I have to work? This is my summer vacation. I’m supposed to be relaxing.”

  As she put away the pitchfork and shovel, Linny’s patience was thinning. He groused harder than he worked. She said firmly, “We all have chores in this family. Your dad and I give you an allowance for helping out.”

  “I get an allowance but no chores at home,” he said sullenly. �
�And I need a raise.”

  The boy was just spoiled. Linny tried to tamp down her irritation. “Neal, you and your dad talked about this last night, and the last thing he said to you before he left for work this morning was that you were to do as I asked.”

  He whirled around and gazed at her defiantly, his fists clenched at his sides. In a voice hot with anger, he said, “You’re always bossing me around.”

  Flashing on all the juggling and honeymoon curtailing they’d done over the past few weeks to suddenly make room for him in their lives full-time, Linny struggled not to counter his resentment with a little dose of her own. Willing herself to calm down, Linny gave him a level look. “Neal, your dad left me in charge with a very clear plan for what we were doing today. If you have trouble with that plan let’s get your dad on the phone and you two can clear that up.” Linny held up her phone, her hand shaking a little. She didn’t want to have to call Jack. She knew how busy he always was at work.

  But Neal just stared at her defiantly.

  Linny gave him a level look and hit Jack’s number. One of the Bodacious Bonus Moms’ cardinal rules was to never make threats you weren’t prepared to back up.

  Jack took the call after the first ring. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Neal is bucking me on chores,” she said, hearing the faint echo that meant he was on his cell.

  “Put him on the phone,” Jack said brusquely.

  But the boy had a hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he gazed at a car turning into the gravel road to the farm. He smirked at Linny and trotted toward the approaching car.

  As a cold knot of dread formed in her stomach, she watched Vera’s black Mercedes rocket up the driveway, kicking up a storm cloud of gray dust and gravel. “His mom is pulling up,” she said, watching the car fishtail and Vera correct it. “She’s speeding up the driveway. Let me go see what’s going on.”

  “I’m only a few miles away. Left a thumb drive I need at the house,” he said. “Leave the phone on so I can hear what’s going on. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Good,” Linny said, blowing out a sigh of relief as she slipped the phone into the pocket of her T-shirt without ending the call. Drawing in a deep breath, she walked over to greet Vera and what she knew could only be trouble.

  Vera wheeled in to the parking area and jerked the car into park so fast that the Mercedes rocked. Flinging open the door, she stepped out, her hair smooth, her makeup perfect, and her mouth a hard, thin line. Looking like she stepped straight out of Town & Country magazine, she wore a white linen dress with black piping and black and white houndstooth check high heels.

  Vera stalked up to Linny and scowled, hands on hips. “My son called and told me you’d been making him work all day in this heat doing manual labor. What is wrong with you? Don’t you know anything about kids?” she demanded.

  Linny heard the blood pounding in her ears. The mother who had screaming matches with her husband in front of her son was questioning Linny’s judgment. She drew herself up and made herself speak calmly, “Neal exaggerated.” She shot a glance at the boy, who flushed and studied his sneakers.

  “My son does not lie to me,” Vera said. She walked over to Neal, put a hand on his forehead, and glared at Linny. “He’s burning up.”

  “It’s summer in the South, Vera.” Linny tried to hide her exasperation. “I’m not sure what he’s said, but Neal’s hardly being mistreated. He and I just spent forty-five minutes feeding the horses and mucking out stalls. We’ve finished. He’s done with chores for the day. He drank water to stay hydrated.” She’d never been so direct with the woman and it felt good.

  “He says you have him doing housework all day long,” Vera tilted her head and shot back, “Did he exaggerate that?”

  “He does chores to earn his allowance,” Linny said, trying to keep her voice even. “Jack’s talked with you about that.”

  Vera’s eyes glittered. “He’s doing a lot of free babysitting for you, too, I hear. Is that why you wanted him to stay with you: free babysitting?”

  Linny felt the heat rise in her face at this twisting of the truth. She did feel some guilt about how much Neal helped with Lucas, but they’d all been in overdrive since the baby arrived on their doorstep. Just as she opened her mouth to explain, the baby monitor in her backpack erupted with the sound of Lucas’s crying. Rummaging inside, Linny grabbed the monitor and looked at the screen. He looked fine, and his cries sounded like the ones he made when he needed a diaper change.

  She studied Vera, who stood rigid with anger, and wondered why she was explaining herself to this woman who was determined to find fault with her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said curtly and strode toward the house.

  In a steely-voiced drawl, Vera said to Neal, “Honey, get your things. You’re coming home with me.”

  Linny stopped abruptly, turned, and gazed at Vera. She pushed back her shoulders. “I thought we’d all decided that it was best if Neal stayed full-time with his dad and me until things got . . . sorted out.”

  “He’s coming home with me,” Vera said with a stubborn tilt to her jaw. “It’s not good for a boy to be away from his mama so long.” The giant diamond in her ring glittered as she put a hand on her hip and glanced at Neal impatiently. “Son, let’s go.”

  Neal looked at his mother and then gave Linny an imploring look.

  “We need to discuss this with Jack,” Linny said, working hard at an in-charge tone. “He should be here any minute.”

  Jack’s voice sounded from her pocket. She held the phone to her ear. He said grimly, “Put Vera on the phone.”

  “Vera, Jack wants to speak to you,” Linny said, proffering her phone.

  “I don’t want to speak to him,” Vera snapped. She marched toward Neal, the in-charge effect marred by the fact that the heels of her stylish shoes kept catching in the grass. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him toward the Mercedes. “Neal, now. We are going home now.”

  But Neal jerked his arm away from his mother and whirled on her, his eyes flashing. He shouted at her, “Get away from me.”

  Vera gaped at him. “Why are you talking to me like that?”

  Neal threw up his arms and shouted, “Don’t you get it, Mama? I don’t want to come with you. All you and Chaz do is scream at each other. I can’t stand to be around you.” He threw his work gloves on the ground and stomped to the house. He stopped, turned around, and screamed, “I hate you!” He threw open the door to the house and slammed it thunderously.

  Vera stood stock-still, put her hands up to her face, and began to cry.

  The baby wailed louder through the monitor, and miracle of miracles, Linny saw Jack turn into the driveway.

  Jack stepped down from his truck and strolled toward them, looking like he had all the time in the world. But he had a Clint Eastwood squint to his eye and his jaw was set. He stared at Vera as he walked toward them, looking like a quietly angry man you didn’t want to cross.

  Linny shivered. He looked slightly menacing, like the sheriff who rode into town to straighten out lawless cowboys running amuck.

  He fixed Vera with a look and said in a steely voice, “You are going to sit your little self down.” He pointed to the chairs on the front porch. “And we are going to get this straightened out right now. This kind of scene will never happen again. Are we clear?”

  Braced for a confrontation, Linny tried not to gape as Vera began to cry, nodding meekly as she walked toward the chairs on the porch. Her face blotchy and her shoulder hunched, Vera looked fragile and defeated. Linny found herself almost feeling sorry for the woman.

  Jack looked at Linny. “You can go on inside. I’ve got this handled.”

  Relieved, Linny nodded and gave him a look full of gratitude. About time this guy showed up. She drifted into the house, feeling light and buoyant.

  After checking on Lucas and changing his diaper, Linny slipped him in his Balboa sling, sighing at his warm bulk and sweet baby smell. As
he grasped at her hair, she tapped on Neal’s door.

  He opened it, eyes red with tears. “Sorry I was a jerk,” he mumbled.

  The baby reached out, grabbed Neal’s ear, and gave it a long, determined pull. Lucas looked delighted with himself.

  Linny smiled at him. “Apology accepted. Dad is going to work things out with your mom so you just chill out for a while. We’re still on to see the Hurricanes.”

  His eyes brightening, he nodded and went back into his room.

  Filling two glasses with iced tea, she grabbed a box of tissues and walked out to the porch where Vera and Jack sat in the two Adirondack chairs, talking. Wordlessly, she handed each of them a glass, gave Vera the tissues, and went back into the house.

  She slipped the drowsy-looking baby back in the crib. Not feeling remotely like taking the high road and giving Jack and Vera some privacy, Linny fixed herself a glass of tea, grabbed a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos she kept in the bedside table drawer for emergencies, and sat on the floor beside the window closest to the front porch to eavesdrop. She chewed quietly so she could hear their conversation over the crunching.

  “Don’t let Neal saying he hated you upset you. He doesn’t mean it. He said that to me and Linny twice last week,” Jack was saying.

  “No,” Vera said shakily. “My friends with teens tell me they hear this. It just hurt when he said he couldn’t stand being around me. We used to be so close.”

  “It’s the fighting,” Jack said, stating the obvious. “He’s also upset that you’re unhappy and that he might lose Chaz.” He went on, his voice firm. “Do you understand that if you don’t get things settled down in your household, we’re going to need to renegotiate the custody arrangement?”