A light bulb went off in Earl’s head. The lawyer nephew had to be the one he’d been looking for.
“Okay, I made a mistake,” he said penitently. “Making a mistake ain’t a crime.”
“No, it’s not,” the judge replied. “But voyeurism and trespassing certainly is.” He banged the gavel down and said, “Sixty days.”
“Sixty days!” Earl yelled. “You gotta be kidding me!”
“I assure you I’m not,” the judge said, “and if I hear another outburst, it will be doubled.”
“What kind of crackpot sentence is that? A man makes one lousy mistake—”
The judge banged the gavel again. “120 days. Do you want to try for six months?”
Earl shook his head and was led from the courtroom.
Ida
A Family Thanksgiving
TWO WEEKS AFTER THE HARVEST Festival, Ida had a dream that was so vivid it woke her in the middle of the night. In the dream she sat across the kitchen table from Bill, and he looked as he did in those last few years before the cancer. His hair snow white, his hands gnarled and stiff, but his eyes as clear and blue as they’d been the day she first met him. He stretched his arm across the table and took her hand in his.
“Have you thought this through?” he asked.
She nodded, and he smiled.
“I was so terribly lonely in those early days, the days right after…”
She was unable to say the words, but he understood. It was as it had always been. He knew her thoughts before she gave them voice.
“I’d lost the will to even get out of bed. In the morning I’d wake, see the sun in the sky, then pull the covers over my head and turn my face to the wall. Loneliness is worse than cancer, Bill. Cancer only destroys your body, but loneliness, that eats away at every part of you, even your heart and mind.”
“I know,” he said tenderly. “I’ve been watching over you.”
“Moving on doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring. I hope you realize that.”
“Of course I do. I never meant for you to be unhappy.”
“I was for a long time, but now it’s different. The house is like it was when you were here, full of happiness and laughter. The day that girl walked into the Elks Club, I knew something good would come of it.” She hesitated a moment then gave way to an easy smile. “You brought them here to be with me, didn’t you?”
He shook his head ever so slowly. “No, Ida, I didn’t. But perhaps He did.”
“He? He who?”
Bill chuckled. “You’ll find out in time.” He took his hand from hers and leaned back in the chair. “I can’t stay, sweetheart, but there’s something you should know.”
“Don’t go! Please. Just a few minutes longer—”
His voice grew thin and far away sounding. “I can’t stay, but I’ll always be here. Even when you don’t see me, know that I’m here, watching over you.”
Tears blurred her vision, and when she reached for his arm it was no longer there.
“Bill, wait,” she cried. “What were you going to tell me?”
When no answer came, the thudding of her heart made it seem as though her chest were going to explode. It was as if someone were shaking her, tugging her arm, calling her to wake up.
She opened her eyes and sat up. There in the darkness of the bedroom they’d shared for all those years, she could sense his presence.
“You’re still here, aren’t you?”
There was no answer.
Ida leaned back into the pillows and sat there thinking. A sliver of moonlight fell softly across the floor, and the house was so silent she could hear the sound of her breath rising and falling. Remembering his words, a troublesome thought entered her mind. Perhaps Bill was trying to warn her of something, but what?
He seemed pleased at the thought of Annie and her mom being here, so it had to be something else. Gregg? The thought of such a nice young man being of concern seemed ludicrous; it had to be something else. Ida ran through a litany of things to worry about and summarily dismissed each one.
Then it hit her. Time. That’s what Bill was trying to tell her. He was trying to warn her that, like him, she had less time than she thought. If that were the case, she would have to do something soon. With the situation as complicated as it was, she was going to need a plan and even then it would be no easy task. She sat for hours trying to figure out a way to overcome the obstacles, work around the truth of what was, and get to where she needed to be. It would be difficult but not impossible. Bill had done it. He’d planned ahead and arranged for a home insurance policy that paid off the house so she’d wouldn’t be left homeless. She now needed to be as creative and clever as he’d been.
The sun was coming up when she finally realized the answer to her problem was smack in front of her nose. Gregg. He was somebody she knew and liked. He was a man with principles, a man who cared about family. Why, he’d left a perfectly good job in Pennsylvania to come here just because his brother’s wife was having a baby. A man who’d do a thing like that would definitely be a good daddy for Annie. And since he and Darla Jean already seemed crazy about one another, that would make it all the easier.
That evening when they were gathered around the dinner table, Ida brought up the subject of Thanksgiving.
“I’m planning to make a turkey with all the trimmings,” she said. “Cranberry sauce, candied sweet potatoes, everything.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Gregg said. “I’d hate to miss a meal like that, but since I haven’t been with family for the past two years, I thought it would be nice to spend it with Phil and Ginger.”
Ida gave a cagey grin. “I agree wholeheartedly. I was thinking maybe they could join us.” She went on to say with Ginger expecting a baby in less than a month, she’d likely welcome the chance to let someone else do the cooking.
Gregg gave a nod. “That’s probably true. I’ll call and ask.”
As it turned out, Ginger had her mom driving up from Florida to spend the holiday with them. Without a flicker of hesitation, Ida suggested Ginger’s mom come along.
“All the better,” she said. “I’ve already ordered a twenty-six-pound turkey, and I don’t want to end up with a refrigerator full of leftovers.”
Once it was agreed that Phil, Ginger, and her mom, would all be there for Thanksgiving dinner, Ida counted up the number of people—a total of seven. Since there were eight chairs circling the dining room table, she also invited Homer Portnick.
By the time Thanksgiving Day arrived, the sideboard was loaded with cakes and pies, and there was not an empty spot to be found in the refrigerator. When everyone gathered at the table, Ida was beaming. It was exactly as she hoped it would be.
“Best turkey I’ve ever tasted,” Gregg said.
Homer Portnick stuck another forkful of stuffing in his mouth and nodded.
Conversations crisscrossed the table, and the sound of happiness was everywhere. Ginger patted her stomach, claiming it felt as though she were having triplets. She then had to reassure her mom such was not the case.
“Dr. Ellsworth said there’s only one heartbeat, Mom; I think I’ve just eaten too much turkey.” She gave a sheepish grin and laughed.
Gregg told of how it was beginning to look as though Mrs. Davis would not be returning from her maternity leave.
“I think the school may offer me a permanent position,” he said then gave Suzanna a wink. “If that happens, I’ll be looking to buy a house and settle down here.”
“Buy a house?” Ida said. “When I’m counting on the income from your rent?”
That wasn’t true, but she needed him to believe it was. It happened too quickly, and claiming to need the rent was the only thing she could think of at the moment.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Parker. I’d never leave you in the lurch. Anyway, I may not know for sure until next spring. If it does happen, I’d need a year or so to find a place and I’d stay until you’ve found a renter to take my place.”
A
year? A year can fly by in almost no time. That’s why Bill wanted to warn me.
The look of shock on Ida’s face faded, replaced by a forced smile. “Although I’m delighted to hear you’ll be a permanent member of our community, I’m selfishly glad that you won’t be leaving here for a while.” A long while, she thought. Hopefully forever.
Anxious to move on, she turned to talk of the holiday, saying it was a time when everyone should stop and count their blessings. She began to recount hers, and they were all related to Darla Jean and Annie. Once she’d finished, the others at the table joined in, each telling of something they were thankful for.
Edna, Ginger’s mom, flashed a radiant smile and said that in two weeks she’d be a grandma for the first time.
“I’m going to sell my place in Florida and move to Barston,” she added happily. “That way I’ll be nearby and can spend time with my grandchild.”
Sitting next to Edna, Homer plopped a third helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“I don’t have any children or grandchildren,” he said glumly, “but I’m sure enough thankful to have finally passed the Motor Vehicle Department test and have a driving license.”
“And I’m thankful you’re less likely to back into my car again,” Gregg quipped.
Everyone laughed.
Phil and Ginger smiled at one another and spoke as one voice.
“We both come from small families,” he said, “so we’re overjoyed to have Ginger’s mom and Gregg here to share in the excitement of our first child.”
Annie rattled off a list of a dozen things, including her new doll, her friend, Lois, Grandma’s cookies, her canopy bed, and the fact that they’d left Earl behind.
Suzanna cringed at the mention of Earl, then quickly took over.
“That’s enough.” She gave Annie a playful pat on the head, then said, “What Annie meant to say is that we are grateful beyond belief to be here, have a family, a place to call home, and a job I can count on.”
The big surprise came a few minutes later when she gave them her news. “And on top of everything else I have to be happy about, Colette is featuring me as the lead model in the holiday fashion show at the Barston Country Club.”
Ginger’s eyes lit up. “That’s the biggest event in Barston. Colette usually brings in one or two models from Atlanta to work the holiday show.”
“It really is big.” Ida nodded. “The proceeds from that affair fund the volunteer fire department, so everyone comes to support it.”
“Mama, are you gonna be a star?” Annie asked.
“Not a star, but I will get a nice bonus for working the show, and with Christmas just around the corner the extra money will come in pretty handy.”
“Actually, you are going to be a star.” Ginger’s words had the sound of jealousy sticking to them. “This event draws close to 200 people.”
She was in the middle of telling how the spotlight was focused on each model as she walked across the stage then swept through the room gathering oohs and ahhs from onlookers when she gave a sudden squeal and jumped up from the table.
“Good grief, my water just broke!”
Ida grinned. “Well, Edna, it looks like you’re going to be a grandma sooner than you thought.”
In the flurry of activity that followed, she never noticed the worried look that had settled on Suzanna’s brow.
Suzanna
Foolish Fears
THE THOUGHT OF 200 STRANGERS attending the fashion show was something Suzanna hadn’t taken into account. She’d naively imagined it to be a gathering of silver-haired ladies sipping tea, asking if this or that outfit came in a larger size. It was sheer stupidity on her part. She should have known. With Colette ordering a special pair of silver sandals for her to wear with the evening gown and paying her an additional $100 to work the show, how could she not have realized the event was going to be really big?
Up until now she’d played it smart and kept a low profile. She’d wisely avoided any situation where someone might speak up and say she was not who she claimed to be, and it had worked. With Ida squarely behind her, no one had even raised an eyebrow at the thought of her being Darla Jean Parker. They’d all, every last one, taken her at her word and she had foolishly allowed it to lull her into a false sense of security.
Now she was going to risk everything, and for what? A pair of silver sandals? An extra $100? A moment of glory? All of it was meaningless compared to what she had: a home where Annie was happy and thriving, a grandmother who loved her, and quite possibly a future with Gregg.
After a worry-filled night of tossing and turning, Suzanna woke Friday morning with dark shadows beneath her eyes and her stomach twisted in knots. She patted a bit of concealer beneath her eyes, dressed for work, then hurried downstairs to grab a quick cup of coffee.
“No breakfast for me today,” she said, then filled a mug and sat at the table.
Ida looked up. “Are you sick?” Setting the platter of scrambled eggs back on the counter, she came across the room and held a hand to Suzanna’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve got a fever.”
“I don’t,” Suzanna replied, “but I’m worried that agreeing to be a model in Colette’s show was a big mistake. I honestly don’t think I’m up to it.”
“Nonsense, you’ll be great. You’ve got the looks, and she obviously believes you can do it or she wouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m not good in front of a crowd. And the thought of all those strangers—”
“If that’s what has you upset, then you’re worrying about nothing. The women who go to the holiday fashion show are the same ones who shop at Cavalier’s. The only difference is that for this event, they have their hair done and get gussied up.”
“What about newspaper reporters? And out-of-towners?”
“Imogene Cranston, the woman who does the social events column for The Town Crier will be snapping some pictures, but she’s the only reporter. A few of the ladies invite a cousin or friend from nearby, and some coerce their husbands into coming along. But they’re locals out for an afternoon of fun, not people you have to worry about impressing.”
Searching for what would sound like a reasonable explanation, Suzanna said, “It’s not that…”
She stopped, her breath caught in her throat. There was no logical way to explain her fears; she was stuck in a lie with no way out. Her voice quavered as she forced the words to come.
“It’s the thought of being up there in front of a crowd of strangers.”
Ida pulled her into a hug. “Darla Jean, you need to stop thinking of them as strangers. Sure, they’ll be dressed up, but underneath the ruffles and feathers they’re the same women you’ve waited on for the past two months.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I do. If you doubt my word, ask Colette. She’ll tell you the same thing.”
“But Ginger said—”
“You’re not Ginger. She never modeled for the show, and judging from the way she talked about it I’m guessing it was something she really wanted.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t change anything. It’s still a big crowd and—”
“It changes everything,” Ida said. “Ginger’s outside looking in; when you want something you don’t have, it appears bigger, better, more impressive, something to stand in awe of. But you’re on the inside, so you should be able to see the reality of what it is.”
With a puzzled look tugging at her face, Suzanna said, “I don’t get it.”
“Ginger was standing on the edge of the show, so she saw the gathering as one huge and very impressive crowd. But as you’re walking through the room, you’ll be able to see those people as they really are: ordinary, everyday individuals. Mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, just women out to have a good time.”
In an odd way, Ida’s words began to make sense. Suzanna thought back on all the times she’d stood on the outside looking in: the father/daughter dance, graduation day, countless Chris
tmases. The happiness of those events had been beyond her reach and she’d viewed them as bigger than life, so perhaps with the fashion show there really was nothing to fear.
By the time Suzanna left for work, she was feeling a bit better about the situation; not confident, but less intimidated. As the day wore on, Ida’s description of the event became more and more plausible. Shortly before noon, she worked up enough courage to ask Colette about the people who attended the fashion show.
Colette was squatted down in front of Suzanna, marking the hem on the hunter green suit Suzanna was to wear in the fashion show.
“Most are already my clients,” she mumbled through a mouthful of pins. “And those who are not will be once they see you in this outfit.”
Suzanna had learned early on that the women who frequented the shop were to be called clients. The word customer, Colette explained, implied a woman was there for the sole purpose of purchasing something whereas a client could expect personalized service.
“That’s one of the reasons they pay more to shop here,” she’d added in a whisper.
When she felt a tap on her leg, Suzanna turned as she was supposed to. “Along with the clients, are there newspaper or television reporters there to take pictures?”
Colette gave a throaty laugh. “That would be lovely, but so far it hasn’t happened. Perhaps in the future…” She slid the final pin into place and stood. “Finished.”
As she stepped out of the skirt, Suzanna asked, “If these women are already clients, then why the fashion show?”
Colette gave a sly grin. “A number of husbands come. They see beautiful clothes on a beautiful woman and tell their wife buy this or that regardless of cost. A successful fashion show can make or break a season.”
For over a week, Suzanna asked the same question of every customer: were they planning to attend the fashion show. Without exception, they all answered yes, and little by little she began to believe what Ida said was true. There was nothing to worry about. She would look out into the audience and see table after table of familiar faces. They would be the people she knew. People who’d accepted her as Darla Jean Parker.
A Million Little Lies Page 15
