by Susan Schild
“Your eyes do look . . . dramatically showcased,” Linny said. “Anything else interesting going on?” she prompted.
“You’ll never in a million years guess who stopped by to see me. Dr. Faison, the minister from our church. He said he’s been ashamed of himself for being the shepherd that’s not gotten out and personally visited each and every member of his flock; those were his words.” She shook her head wonderingly. “I told you he had a way with words. Anyhow, we had such a nice visit.”
“Good,” Linny said. “What’s he up to?” She caught her mother’s quizzical look and quickly rephrased, “I mean, how are things going at the church?”
“Not so good.” her mother said. “Ever since the recession, collections have been way down, and they’ve not come back even though things are better. Of course they built that grand church right before the economy fell off.” She sniffed. “Over at First Baptist, we were happy with our plain church, even though it was a hundred years old and it leaked when it rained and the men and the women had to use the same bathroom.” She frowned. “I’m not much on those coed bathrooms.” Dottie gave her a meaningful look and whispered, “The men sprinkle.”
“So he just stopped by to visit his sheep?” Linny got a sharp look from Dottie and she flushed. “I mean, so he just stopped by to say hello?”
“That’s right,” her mother said crisply. “I thought it was very thoughtful, someone as busy and important as he is coming by to see me.”
Linny felt the blood pound in her ears and couldn’t help blurting out, “Mama, did he ask you for money?”
Dottie’s mouth became a thin line. “We talked about the church’s money problems, but he didn’t ask me for money. It was just a friendly visit.”
Linny leaned forward and plowed on. “Maybe he visited you because he heard about you winning that money and wanted to see if he could get you to make a big contribution to the church.”
Dottie shook her head sadly. “Those shows you watch on TV are turning you into a suspicious person. You need to watch the Contemporary Christian Channel. It has all the Roma Downey and Valerie Bertinelli angel shows and reruns of The Waltons and The Andy Griffith Show. Good, wholesome shows.”
Linny folded her hands and tried to sound neutral. “Mama, all I’m saying is that when people hear you’ve come into money, opportunists will come to your door with their hands out. I just want you to be careful.”
Her mother’s face closed. She snapped up the recliner and rose. “It’s my money, Linny, and I’ll spend it the way I see fit. Now I need you to skedaddle.” She lifted her chin. “Mack is coming by to take me out to Cracker Barrel to eat and I need to get ready. We’re just friends of course. Just a friendly supper.”
Resigned, Linny rose. When would she learn to keep her big mouth shut? Following Mama outside, Linny watched as Dottie waved gaily at Mary Catherine and hurried over to her car. Beaming as Mary Catherine stepped out, Dottie embraced her and then framed her face with her hands. “How are you, precious girl?”
“I’m doing lovely, Miss Dottie. I’ve missed you.” Mary Catherine draped an arm around Dottie’s shoulders and gazed at her, pure affection in her eyes.
Dottie cooed, “You look so pretty, like you always do.”
Linny stood a few yards away, musing about the lovefest. Instead of telling Linny that she looked pretty, Mama would be more likely to tell her that she didn’t look as tired as she had, or that her slacks were slimming: not exactly effusive compliments. Years of keeping a stiff upper lip in her marriage had made her stoic, she guessed, and maybe there was a cautionary tale in there about staying skinny to hold on to your man. She’d seen pictures, and Daddy’s Ava Gard-ner–looking girlfriend had been skinny; a smoker, Linny bet.
But Linny felt a surge of fondness for her mother. Mama gave Mary Catherine generous helpings of love because she saw her friend as a motherless daughter. Though not technically motherless, Mary Catherine’s wild-haired and whiskey-breathed mother, Reva, was alive and kicking and busily remarrying and divorcing while tending bar in a restaurant in Murrells Inlet. But still, Mary Catherine brought out the softie in Mama.
Her friend leaned against her car. “So you had a great time on the cruise. Tell me the highlights.”
“I’ll show you,” Dottie said proudly. “Mack has been teaching me all the fancy technology, and he helped me buy a modern phone.” She pulled a phone from a pocket in her housecoat. Leaning closer to Mary Catherine, she scrolled through pictures.
Linny tilted her head. Her mother was tech-savvy now? Linny’d had to wrestle her into giving up her rotary dial phone. She’d left on the cruise with a flip phone she hardly knew how to use and now owned a smartphone. Next, she’d be wearing a phone wristwatch.
Dottie’s eyes sparkled as she went on with her commentary. “This was an indoor circus with trapezes. Here’s the wildlife-viewing submarine where we saw the barracuda. These next few shots are the ship’s buffet . . .”
Mary Catherine’s eyes widened as she peered at the screen. “Dottie, these shots are excellent. So clear and perfectly set up. You’re quite the photographer.”
Dottie chuckled. “No, honey. Dessie took most of these shots. Her late husband used to be a school photographer and taught her all his tricks. She’s real handy with the camera. She used the long lens a lot. Stayed back some and got some real pretty shots . . .” The two chattered on as they looked at the pictures.
Mary Catherine’s usual poker face was open and her laughter was easy and girlish. Linny shook her head and smiled. Her friend was basking in Dottie’s attention because she’d never had a normal mother.
Dottie paused in her travelogue and called over her shoulder to Linny, “Would you mind going inside and turning down the pot on the stove? I’m going to burn those black-eyed peas right up.”
Nodding, Linny went back into the house, turned down the heat, and stopped to give the snoring Great Dane a farewell smooch.
Outside, her mother and Mary Catherine were saying their good-byes as sadly as if one was going off to war. Linny bussed her mother on the head, and climbed in the car.
Dottie waved at Mary Catherine and called, “Come see me soon, sweetheart. And bring that handsome husband and son of yours when you do.”
Dang. Two other things she couldn’t do well. She kept letting husbands slip through her fingers and she’d never produced a grandbaby. As they backed out of the driveway, she gave a sideways glance at Mary Catherine. “Mama still loves you better than she does me and Kate.”
“It’s all right, girl,” Mary Catherine said, patting her hand. She’d heard the Mama-gives-me-constructive-feedback-and-you-sugar complaint many times before. “How’d the talk go?”
Linny scowled. “She blew me off big-time.”
Mary Catherine gave her a raffish grin as she slipped on her sunglasses. “I don’t think you have to worry about your mama getting bamboozled by the flash minister.”
Linny gave her a sharp look and cocked her head. “Why? What did she say?”
“While you were in the house she asked me what kind of car has a springing-forward lion on the hood and I told her it was a Jaguar. She asked me if it was an expensive car and I told her it was. She just pursed up her lips, shook her head, and said, ‘I thought so.’ ”
“Thank goodness.” Linny breathed out, relieved, but then remembered something. “But Mama wanted to keep sending money to that big-haired TV evangelist she loved so much, even when he got sent to federal prison.”
Mary Catherine turned the car into Linny’s driveway. “Maybe she’s not as naïve as you think.”
“Maybe,” Linny said doubtfully. At the ding, Linny glanced at her phone and held it up to her friend with a grimace. “She’s even texting now.” As she read the message, she raised a brow.
“Good grief.” Linny read the note to Mary Catherine: Can you and Kate come over for supper Tuesday night and visit with me and Mack? Let everybody get to know one another better. Plus, I hav
e some plans I want to talk with you all about.
Linny closed her eyes and reminded herself to breathe while picturing a giddy Dottie announcing her engagement to a man she’d known less than three weeks. Linny shook her head and willed herself not to overreact. Surely Mama couldn’t be that impetuous.
* * *
Back at the trailer Linny took a long, hot shower and tried to settle down. Maybe Mack wasn’t a fortune-hunting wife murderer. Maybe he was just a nice older man who was lonely and could give Mama some companionship. He could be just a friend, a buddy she could go to church with and ride with to Walgreens when it was time to get flu shots. Maybe she could clip coupons for him, and he could check the oil in her car to make sure it wasn’t low. Surely at their age they were too old for any frisky business. Shuddering, Linny tried to banish a few disturbing pictures that ran through her mind. Surely not. She’d call Kate later and talk it over, but now her shotgun-bracing shoulder was throbbing. Popping two Aleve, she settled in on the couch with an ice pack on her shoulder and Roy snuggled at her feet. Glancing at her phone, she smiled. Jack had texted twice.
Sweets, Good day? When can I stop by to see u? Remember follow-up mtg with school counselor Wednesday at 3:00 p.m. Pick u up at 2:30? Call me when u can.
A few moments later, he’d written: Have I told u how much I miss u?
Warmed by his words, Linny immediately tapped out how much she’d missed him but caught herself and deleted what she’d written. She’d wait an hour before she wrote him back. To keep herself honest, she set the timer on the stove for one hour. And, she decided, she wouldn’t just let him stop by.
Trying to distract herself, Linny got going with her matchmaking idea. She pushed in Diamond’s phone number and was startled when her globe-trotting friend actually picked up.
“Hello-oh, my little bonbon,” Diamond drawled. “How are you?”
Linny broke into a smile. “I’m well. Let me guess where you are. A private party at the Biltmore House . . . with a handsome Vanderbilt heir? Getting a body scrub at Canyon Ranch in Tucson?” Linny teased.
“No. Just lawyering away, working my fingers to the bone.” Diamond said wearily.
Linny heard water splashing and steel drums in the background and grinned. “You doing that lawyerin’ poolside?”
Sounding like she was explaining the obvious, Diamond said, “It’s so chilly in Raleigh. My skin was getting stressed. I found a continuing legal ed deal in San Juan.”
Linny shook her head and smiled. “Mary Catherine and I met a lovely-seeming man today . . .” She went on to tell what she knew of Butch while wondering if she was making a megamistake trying to match the whip-smart rich girl with the down-to-earth, good ol’ boy.
“He sounds like a man’s man. Leather to my lace,” Diamond purred. “I’ll go clay shooting as soon as I come home, and I thank you for thinking of me. If Butch and I do get married, you’ll be included in the wedding in a significant way,” she announced. After she grilled Linny on how things were going with Jack, she paused, and her voice became serious. “You two are so good together. I want what you have, Linnybelle, and I owe you for trying to match me. Anything I can do for you, sugar, you just call me.” She reverted to her socialite voice. “I need to fly. I have a Sea of Sargasso kelp facial in a few minutes. Takes years off,” Diamond rattled on. “They offer a bird poo facial, if you can believe it, and one where snails actually crawl over your face to moisturize, but I just said no, thank you, ma’am.” She made a smooching sound and said, “Kiss, kiss” as she ended the call.
At least she’d tried to send Cupid Diamond’s way. Linny pushed in Mary Catherine’s number and, when her friend answered, asked in a tentative tone, “Is the coast clear at home? Things settled down?”
“They have. No carnage either,” Mary Catherine said.
“Good,” Linny said. “Two things: I’m playing it cool with Jack: not writing him back right away, being busier, making him wait to see me,” she reported, proud of herself.
“Well done,” Mary Catherine said encouragingly. “Not sure you need to do any of that, but if that’s your plan, stick to it.”
“Also, I called Diamond and told her about Butch. She’s going clay shooting as soon as she gets back in town,” she said with a note of triumph in her voice.
Mary Catherine chuckled. “He won’t stand a chance.”
Linny thought about it and felt a niggle of worry. “I hope he’s a good guy. Under all that zaniness and froth, Diamond’s nice.”
“The best,” Mary Catherine agreed. “But she can take care of herself.” She paused and announced, “On the drive home I had a brainstorm about those Weston boys.”
“Tell me,” Linny said, intrigued.
“Can’t. Too soon,” Mary Catherine said, sounding mysterious. “Let me see if I can pull this caper off before I brag about it.”
“All right, Miss Marple,” Linny groused but smiled. She’d told her that Neal was enamored of the word caper, and now Mary Catherine was using it, too.
“I need to get supper going,” Mary Catherine said. “The men are in the other room, talking strategy about how to get the money back from those boys. They’re a good team.”
Linny smiled and hung up. Mary Catherine and Mike had worked through his getting laid-off, his prolonged unemployment, and lots of whipsaw curves with their son. She and Jack could work out their bumps. Linny just needed to stick to her plan.
* * *
Later, when the timer went off, Linny texted Jack in her new, don’t-try-too-hard mode: Had a fun day. Went clay shooting! Too tired for company tonight. Have my class at Earth and Sky tomorrow night and supper at Mama’s on Tuesday. Meet you Wednesday at the school at 3:00.
She reread the text twice. The tone was perfect. Breezy, fun-loving gal on the go. Of course she’d white-lied about her busy day tomorrow. Her day was wide open, but she’d shown restraint. Restraint was good. Let Jack start to notice she wasn’t waiting around like a puppy anxious for a pat. Linny gave a satisfied smile and hit the Send button.
CHAPTER 15
Ladies’ Night
Monday evening Linny felt a buzz of anticipation as she greeted students entering the classroom at Earth and Sky. Their faces were open and they chatted and bantered with one another as they entered the room and claimed their seats. Gone were the wary expressions they’d worn when they’d arrived that first evening, when they were tired from already working a long day and quietly resentful at having been conscripted into coming to the class by their bosses. Linny breathed out slowly and sent up a quick prayer of gratitude. She’d been so anxious about having credibility with this group and the class had all come together.
Denny, Wayne, and Ennis walked in and seemed to be missing their usual cock-of-the-walk swagger. Linny watched them out of the corner of her eye as they slid into their seats. They seemed subdued and she had a hunch why.
“Let’s get started,” Linny called to the group, and they turned their eyes toward her. She held out her hands in a palms-up gesture and smiled. “Has anybody had a positive change happen at work over the last week as a result of your trying something new you’d learned in this class?”
Megan tentatively raised her hand. When Linny nodded at her, she stood and blinked behind her rectangular glasses. “I talked to my bosses about what we discussed in class and said I thought some women were a little intimidated coming into hardware stores, like it was a man’s place.” She glanced around the room and several women nodded in agreement. “They listened to me, and later this month we’re having our very first ladies’ night at the hardware store. We’re giving them corsages, having hors d’oeuvre, and a local vineyard is doing a wine tasting. There’ll be drawings for door prizes like toolboxes and stud finders.” Several men in the class hooted and her cheeks turned pink, but she kept on. “And we’re doing minidemon-strations of simple home projects, like how to fix a toilet or how to use an electronic level to hang pictures. I already have thirty-two women r
egistered,” she said, sounding proud.
One of the students began to clap and the others joined in. Megan ducked her head and her pink cheeks darkened to fuchsia, but she was grinning.
“Good job, Megan,” Linny said. “Now I’m going to ask you all to pull out the feedback you received from your customers and talk it over with your tablemates. What did you learn? What positive feedback did you get? What kind of constructive feedback did you get?”
“Let me translate, folks,” Bolo Bob called out with a good-natured grin. “That constructive feedback she’s talking about is what we call criticism.”
Linny broke into a smile and let the laughter die down. “And talk about what feedback was most surprising.”
The room quieted and students’ faces grew serious as they talked with one another about what their customers had to say about them. Linny walked around the room, stopping to listen for a moment at each of the four tables.
Minnie—the gray haired woman with the too-short skirt—pushed her reading glasses back up her nose and glanced at her tablemates as she finished up. “. . . so they give me very high marks on customer service, but some said I needed to start dressing more professionally.” She slumped, admitting, “I hate buying clothes. My daughter likes to buy clothes for me and, now that I read this, I can see she’s been buying me clothes that would look right on her, not me.” Minnie gave her tablemates a meaningful look over the top of her glasses as she added, “She’s twenty-six and a cocktail waitress.”
Linny moved to the next table, where Denny was explaining, “Word is that I’m a real good mechanic. They’re all happy with the work I do on their cars,” he said and cleared his throat as he gazed down at his written feedback. “But a few people said I was unfriendly and took off a bunch of marks for that.” He shook his head and hit the papers with the back of his hand. “Now what am I supposed to do? Go around smiling like a fool and being all sweetie-sweet?” He looked around the group and rolled his eyes.
