“Oh, great. That’s right,” Trip said. “I can’t take much more.”
I got back in my car and moved it up to the house. When I got inside, Millie was there, making waffles.
“Morning!” she said, in a chipper voice, completely unaware of last night’s dinner theater or this morning’s massacre.
“Morning,” I said.
I slammed the newspapers on the table and pulled out my cell phone to call Matthew. He answered right away.
“Matthew? Are you on duty?”
“What’s wrong? Yeah, I’m on duty.”
“You are? Good! I want you to come over here right now and bring handcuffs!”
“What’s wrong, Caroline?”
I choked up with tears of rage.
“Answer me when I ask you a question, please,” he said.
“Okay, just gimme a second here.” I cleared my throat. “Somebody came on my property last night and cut the heads off of all my roses! There are hundreds of blooms lying on the ground! And, not that it matters to anyone but me, my gardens were going to be in a big feature article in Southern Living!” I started to cry. “I want her locked up! I want her out of my life, Matthew! I can’t stand this! I don’t live like this!”
“I’ll be right there,” he said, and ended the call.
I collapsed into a chair at the table and Millie put a box of tissues in front of me.
“Tell me what’s going on ’eah. Stop crying and tell me.”
“Oh, Millie! I just can’t stand her another second! I can’t stand her! You can’t believe . . . oh God!”
I cried and cried, and in between my bursts of tears I got the whole story out, the horrible exchange of insults from last night and the condition of the roses, too. It wasn’t just the roses I was crying over. It was everything.
“Why would she do such a thing? Why?”
“I don’t know, honey. That’s a angry woman, though. You know, chile, when she starts running her mouth like last night, you need to just excuse yourself. Don’t take her on, Caroline, ’cause she don’t care what she says and who she hurts. But you know, you shouldn’t tell on her girls. You were making such nice progress with them and now it’s all undone.”
“I wasn’t going to just sit there and let her humiliate my son, Millie. You wouldn’t either.”
The door swung open and Eric came in.
“Holy crap, Mom! What’s wrong now?”
“Somebody done took all the heads from the roses and ruined your momma’s garden. She thinks it was your aunt and she’s very upset.”
“She can’t come here and do whatever she wants and just say these terrible things! She can’t!” I was so discombobulated my words came out in a jumble, but I knew Eric and Millie understood what I meant.
Millie stood over me and rubbed my back in little circles, trying to calm me down.
“Mom? Can I say something?”
I nodded and looked at him. I’d defend my boy against an army of Frances Maes if I had to.
“My auntie Fan is a crackpot and whatever she says about me is totally irrelevant to me. Even her girls know she’s a nut bag. Who cares? Uncle Trip will kick her butt and she’ll be okay for a while and then something else will set her off and we’ll be going at it with her again! It’s who she is! She’s the family lunatic! So, don’t waste your time getting all worked up over a crazy person. She can’t help it. You know?”
“Boy?” Millie said. “When did you get so smart?”
I blew my nose. He was right.
“We were almost rid of her and now she’s back, and oh Lord! She’s so awful!” I said.
“Nope. She’s crazy first and then she’s awful, Mom.”
“Mean as the devil, too,” Millie added.
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Eric said. “One, crazy; two, awful; and last, mean.”
“Well, we’re finally in agreement,” I said.
“So, am I getting fed around here?” he asked.
“I’m making you pecan waffles,” Millie said, and went back to stirring her batter. “Why don’t you set the table? You know, help the ladies out?”
“Sure.” Eric looked out the window. “But for how many? We got company.”
I got up and looked out through the glass panes in the door. There they all were—Frances Mae, three of her girls, Trip, and Matthew.
“Oh, please. I’m all done with them for a while. They’re too much!”
Frances Mae’s arms were flailing in the air, fingers were being pointed, and the girls looked very serious. But I noticed something very curious.
“Why is Linnie smiling?” I said.
Millie stood next to me to have a look.
“Humph. Maybe she had a hand in it, too,” Millie said.
“I wouldn’t put it past her, y’all. She’s not right in the head either,” Eric said. “Besides, you did blow her away last night, Mom.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What you saying now?” Millie said.
I had left some facts out when I gave Millie the rundown of all that happened last night. So I told her everything. Millie’s third eye was pretty accurate, but it didn’t always pick up all the details.
“What?” Millie said. “Girl? You something else now, ’eah? Something else.”
I kept staring out of the window in the back door. At last the conversation grew less animated and it seemed that Matthew was finished listening. Then he was coming toward my door, so I opened it and stood aside.
“Morning, Mrs. Smoak. Morning, Eric. Caroline? Do y’all think this First Responder might be able to impose on your hospitality for a cup of coffee?”
Millie immediately filled a mug for him and handed him the carton of half-and-half.
“You mean, you’re not going to arrest her?” I was incredulous.
“Have you had your breakfast, Officer Strickland?” Millie said. “I’m making pecan waffles and there’s plenty.”
“Why, I really shouldn’t, but all right, if it’s no trouble, that is. Thank you.”
He sat at the kitchen table and removed his sunglasses, hooking one arm of them through the breast pocket of his starched uniform shirt.
“The waffle is really awesome,” Eric said, swirling a bite around in his syrup.
Matthew smiled at Millie and I wanted to kill them all for being so nonchalant about this terrible travesty. I mean, I know no one died and not one person was physically wounded, but Frances Mae couldn’t be allowed to just decapitate an entire garden of roses with no consequences! It was maddening! What was the matter with them? All of them?
“So, when you all are finished thinking about your stomachs,” I said, “does anyone want to tell me what happened out there?”
Matthew took a sip of his coffee and looked at me.
“Trip has her under control. I don’t think you’ll see anything like that happen again. Ever.”
“Really? What makes you so sure about that?”
“Because he told her that this kind of behavior is a deal breaker.”
“What deal?” My heart was beating so fast it scared me. “What deal?”
“I’m gonna let your brother tell you and he’s coming inside in a few minutes,” Matthew said. “In the meanwhile, Mrs. Smoak, this is the most delicious waffle I think I’ve ever had.”
I got up and looked outside the door again. Frances Mae and the girls were driving away and Trip was walking toward the door.
“Matthew! You have to give me more than this! What deal?”
“Just hang on for a couple of minutes, Caroline.”
The back door opened and Trip came sailing in as though all was well, except for the fact that he looked more haggard and spent than he had just an hour ago. He sat down at the table and Millie placed a mug of coffee in front of him.
“What’s that I smell?” he said. “Wow. Waffles.”
“I just put one on for you,” Millie said. “Be done in a jiffy. Caroline? You want one?”
&nb
sp; I shook my head no.
“So?” I said.
“So, it’s like this. She didn’t do it, Caroline.”
“Oh, baloney,” I said.
“Look. If she had done it, there’d be a million little scratches on her from the thorns. Her arms are as clean as a whistle. So are the girls’ arms. Not one scratch on any of them.”
“That’s impossible,” I said.
“Listen, Frances Mae was just as horrified as you were.”
“Oh, please.” All I could think was Frances Mae was the world’s greatest liar now and forever. “She cares about my garden, Trip, come on.”
“No, she doesn’t give two shits about your garden and she doesn’t know the first thing about gardening either. Besides, she doesn’t even own clippers. So, you have to ask yourself, who and why, right?”
The conversation continued for a long while until I finally came to accept the possibility that Frances Mae had, in fact, not tried to murder my roses.
“I have an idea of who might have done it,” Eric said. “I mean, it’s a long shot, but I might be right.”
“Who, Eric?” Matthew said.
“Yeah! Who do you know who would do such a thing?” Trip asked.
“Humph,” Millie said under her breath. “That chile’s smarter than everybody in this room all added up together.”
“Yeah, right. Mom? Does cutting off all the flowers kill the bushes?”
“Why no, it doesn’t. Most of my bushes in bloom now are hybrids. They bloom all summer. Why? Why do you ask that?”
“Because I didn’t know that and Uncle Trip and Officer Strickland don’t know that. So who would?”
“Someone who raises hybrids or someone who sells them?” I said. “A landscaper?”
“Yeah, a landscaper who wanted to impress a girl, but didn’t really want to do permanent damage? And a niece who wanted to screw up her aunt’s shot at fame with her garden? Which would explain why Linnie was smirking?”
“Oh God, Eric!”
“Miss Caroline! What’d I tell you about calling on God except in prayer?” Millie said.
“Who says I’m not praying? Trip? Remember those two boys who Belle and Linnie were seeing? Have they been coming around?”
“How the hell would I know?” Trip said. “Things have been a little crazed lately, you know.”
I wanted to say, Bubba, you are so Dickens’s Bleak House, you don’t even know it. And next I could read Millie’s mind as she thought, You see? He’s admitting he don’t know what’s up with those kids and that’s why it’s a good thing Frances Mae is back!
“What do you want to do, Trip?” Matthew said, wiping his mouth and putting his napkin on the table. “Pick ’em up for questioning?”
“Let me talk to Frances Mae and Linnie first and I’ll give you a call later. What do you say, Caroline? They’re your bushes, not mine.”
“I say, see what you can find out,” I said.
“I gotta get going, Caroline,” Matthew said. “I’ll call y’all later. Hey, Eric?”
“Yeah?”
“If you’re right?” Matthew said. “You ought to think about a career with the CIA or the FBI.”
“Cool.” Eric nodded and took his empty plate to Millie. “I’m going up to my room, Mom. I gotta get a shower and then I’m going to hang out with Amelia.”
“Sure,” I said. When he was gone I looked at Trip. “Whaddaya know? The day has arrived when I don’t have to bribe him to take a bath.”
“Humph. That’s a wonderful boy, ’eah? All right now,” Millie said, and closed the door of the dishwasher. “I’m gonna go pay my sweet Mr. Jenkins a visit and tell him to move his bones! We needs to clean up the rose garden. Y’all need to be alone for a little bit to chew the fat.”
“There’s a lot to chew on, Millie,” I said.
“Humph. You’re telling me? You know, I can use all them petals for my root work.” Millie winked at us and went to the door. “Make up some sachet for all the closets, too! Mix ’em up with some lavender?”
“Keeps the moths at bay, right?”
“That’s right. See? You’re learning!”
“Learning? Sometimes I wonder if I ever learn a thing,” I said. “I’ll be along shortly.” I knew my day would be spent restoring the garden, pinching back the tiny heads so the bushes would produce the largest blooms. With any luck, they would all be flowering in two weeks. Maybe Southern Living would come back then.
Trip smiled, sort of, and then said, “Look, Caroline. I don’t blame you for thinking it was Frances Mae. I thought she did it, too, especially after all the brouhaha at dinner last night. And after what she did to those poor innocent billboards, I knew she didn’t have a problem with a certain amount of vandalism. Believe it or not, she doesn’t fault you for thinking it was her.”
“Well, that’s mighty F-ing nice of her,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. And we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. If Linnie’s the cause for this? She’ll be digging onions in Georgia by next week.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re really Mr. Tough Love with her.”
“No, I’m not Mr. Tough Love with any of my kids. Never have been. That’s why I need Frances Mae, Caroline. And those girls need her. They got Litchfield blood and there isn’t anyone who can keep them in line except another Litchfield.”
“Send them back to Walterboro.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that and I wouldn’t blame you for that either. But we’re gonna try something different this time because the girls need two parents. This is a chance to see if we—Frances Mae and I, that is—to see if we can straighten them out, get them into good colleges and into the world to make something out of themselves.”
“Wait a minute. I’m not buying this. Sorry, Trip. Sorry.” Rusty had only been dead for a few weeks. Wasn’t this like, I don’t know, too soon to have another woman in his life?
“Look, I told Frances Mae in no uncertain terms. I said, ‘Listen, Caroline’s my sister and she’s my family. I’m not going to have y’all fighting like two cats in a bag every time I turn around.’ I told her, Caroline, I mean I laid down the law. If she wants to be with me, she is to be polite to you. You are my only sister, I love you very much, and I have lived here for the last ten years because of your generosity. She needs to think about that and be grateful.”
“When hell freezes. She wouldn’t show an ounce of gratitude to me if her very life depended on it.”
“Well, she will now.”
“We’ll see about that. Look, I don’t want to fight with her, Trip. It’s just that I can’t stand her because she’s so offensive and rude. You heard what she said about Eric last night, didn’t you? She’s horrible!”
“Yeah, and then we all heard what you said about my girls. Not nice, sister.”
“Excuse me, but you said nothing to stop Frances Mae and she started it in the first place!”
“Um, two wrongs don’t make a right, do they?”
“Oh, Trip. This is just all so wrong.”
“I’m not saying this isn’t a little screwed up, but this is the solution I have chosen for the time being because I believe it’s in the best interest of my girls. Not my best interest, but my girls’ best interest. I would be really grateful if you would support me in this because it’s taking all the strength I have to try and work this out.”
“Tell me why you’re really doing this, Trip. Gimme the real reason, okay?”
“The real reason? Okay, here it is. I saw Chloe scream with joy when Frances Mae showed up. I saw Linnie, Belle, and Amelia run to their mother and throw their arms around her and they cried tears of happiness. Real tears. Spontaneous tears. Caroline, do you know how powerful that is? And then they begged me, they all begged me to try again. You may think I’m weak and you may think it’s the wrong decision, but if you were in my position? I would have loved to see you just try to say no.”
“She’s going to drive you out of your mind, Trip.”
“Maybe,” he said, and smiled. “But it will get me back to work, if nothing else.”
“See? You can’t live with her and you know it. Honest to God, Trip. She is the crassest and most disgusting woman I have ever known.” I looked at him then and he seemed angry. “Sorry, but she is.”
“Caroline? This is where I draw the line with you, okay? I just asked you for your support. You’re going to have to stop making derogatory remarks about Frances Mae.”
“Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sorry one damn teensy bit and he could see it on my face.
“Look, you can think whatever you want. Just don’t say it, okay? Please?”
Was I capable of not criticizing Frances Mae after all these years of feeding my one and only indulgence? It was seriously doubtful. And it was equally doubtful that Frances Mae would be able to control her tongue either.
“You can tell Frances Mae I’m calling a truce for the moment. If she behaves herself, so will I.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“Trip? Does letting Frances Mae back into your life have anything to do with Rusty dying?”
“Only in that I know I’ve had the love of my life and lost her and that I will never feel that way about a woman again. So, what the hell? I may as well try and right some wrongs, you know, be a better parent?”
“Are you viewing this as some kind of penance? You can’t be serious! And what are you going to do when Chloe goes to college in ten years? Are you really going to spend the rest of your life with Frances Mae?”
“Who knows, but do you know the line in that old song, ‘It’s cheaper to keep her?’ ”
“Oh! Trip! Come on!”
“Caroline, I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”
I was incredulous.
“It’s your life, Trip.”
“Yes, it is. Now, I’m going home to have a serious chat with your namesake, Miss Linnie.” He stood up and tucked in his shirt. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“Anytime,” I said, and closed the door behind him, wondering if he was telling me the truth. Maybe I was being gullible to consider believing he was taking Frances Mae back for the right reasons, but I just wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about many things.
Lowcountry Summer Page 31
