Charmed Life (20 page)

Polly interjected. “That’s because she likes to watch the flies suffer on there. All stuck, wiggling to get free. She even puts them on there to watch.”

Clyde shrugged. “They’re fly strips. Who cares if she puts them on there or they fly on there. She’s making good use.”

“As long as she doesn’t put them on the baby again,” Polly aid pointing her fork at Regan. “No taping your sister with them this time.”

“I promise grandma,” Damian raised her hand. “I just didn’t know they’d leave a mark.”

“Ok.” Polly returned to eating.

Bobby fidgeted in his seat, possibly, he was inwardly uncomfortable. He leaned to Grace and whispered. “You’re being quiet. You OK?”

Grace nodded. “Yep. Just watching.”

Bobby looked. Grace had her eyes on Rhoda.

Rhoda squeezed ketchup on her macaroni and cheese. “Doesn’t this look like blood?” she asked. “Now watch.” She grabbed her fork and mixed it together. “Now it looks like vomit.”

Grace motioned her chin upward, asking, “Is that any good like that?”

Rhoda pushed her plate to Grace. “It’s the way I eat it. Dare to try?”

Grace lifted a spoon, placed it into the orange creation, and took some. There wasn’t much hesitation, and Grace ate it.

“Well?”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. That is so good like that.”

“Really? You aren’t lying?” Rhoda asked.

“Why would I lie?” Grace asked.

“To get on my good side.”

“That would be a Freddy move. Not me.”

Rhoda smiled and handed her the ketchup bottle. Grace doused her own macaroni and cheese. She wasn’t very crazy about that Kraft macaroni and Cheese, but the ketchup made all the difference in the world. Happily Grace could eat it and not fear insulting Polly by not.

+++

Freddy peered through the windshield as he started the car and looked at the Dawson home.

Lightening flashed.

He swore he saw a pair of glowing red eyes in the attic window. Would make perfect sense. That was Rhoda’s room.

He shuddered a chill and put the car in reverse. “Delightful evening, wouldn’t you say?”

Grace nodded with a ‘a-hmm.’

“Kind of odd, twisted family, with a hint of vanilla flavor.”

Grace smiled peacefully.

“The children aren’t disrespectful at all. Just … just strange.” Freddy pulled from the house and began the drive home. “All and all, I thought the evening went well. You?”

Grace nodded.

“Princess, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not saying anything. Feel bad?”

“No. Just absorbing.”

“I got it!” Freddy gasped. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“You do this every time you prepare for a role. You learn it. You absorb everything as to get into character.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Grace paused. “Exactly.”

“Then what?”

“I’m learning them first. I don’t know. My father dated a lot after my mom died. You have to understand, they were married thirty-some years. Married when they were eighteen. They waited twenty before they had a kid. Both were rich and famous. She died when I was about Rhoda’s age, maybe a bit older. So my dad was still young when she died. I hated when he dated women. They always tried to win me over. Tried to be nice to me when I knew it was a fake. Like tonight with the macaroni and ketchup thing. I was being genuine. But I knew and understood where she as coming from when she asked if I was lying. I could see one of my dad’s girlfriends doing that. I hated that phony shit. And the phony shit comes from not knowing the kid. So I’m absorbing.”

Freddy whistled. “Well, you have to absorb a lot. They are …. They aren’t the Olsen twins. Or would that be triplets?”

“They aren’t. A lot of it’s an act. Ok, maybe not Damian. You can’t act hitting a one legged squirrel from fifteen feet away with a sling shot. It’s not an act.”

“It’s a talent,” Freddy said.

Just as Grace exhaled and they pulled up to the trailer, she leaned closer to the window. “Is that Marybeth on our porch?”

“The poor dear is all wet. Wait a second.” Freddy put the car in park. “She’s supposed to be on a date.”

Both of them got out of the car and walked to the small stoop porch.

“Marybeth?” Freddy asked. “What’s wrong?”

Her hair was wet, flat and hanging in her face. Her make up smeared. “Freddy … I … don’t think my date is coming. And I don’t know what to do. I feel so bad.”

“What time was he supposed to get there? Maybe he’s just late?” Freddy asked.

“Eight.”

Freddy looked at his watch. “My dear, I think you’ve been stood up.”

Marybeth burst into tears. “I feel like such a fool. I told everyone I had a date. I called my boys…” She wiped her eyes smearing her mascara even more. “I’m sorry, I’m bothering you. I’ll let you guys go …”

“No.” Grace stopped her. “We’re just getting home. We had dinner at the Dawson’s.”

“The Dawson’s?” Marybeth asked. “Oh, my. Did you.. Did you meet the children yet?”

At that instant, the second she finished her sentence, thunder blasted and lightening flashed.

Freddy looked up. “Oh, that was weird.”

Grace opened the door. “Let’s just get you inside.”

+++

How many times did Bobby flip open his phone, find Grace’s name in his contact list, and start to dial her?

Too many to count. But he never dialed and he flipped the phone closed. A process he repeated at least ten times.

He couldn’t call her. Not yet. She really hadn’t been gone that long.

Laying on his bed, he raised the remote control and turned on the television.

There was a knock on his door. “Come in.”

The door opened and Clyde walked in. Immediately he shut off the television that set on Bobby’s tall dresser. He moved items over on the dresser, keys, cologne, and brush, to make room for his arm when he leaned there. “Got a minute?” Clyde asked.

“Sure.” Bobby sat up.

“It’s Friday night. I thought …. I thought you told your mother you were taking Grace out for a drink tonight. Not beer.”

“I did tell her that. I’m not.” Bobby shook his head.

“Can I ask why?”

Bobby laughed.

“I thought you two clicked.”

Bobby laughed again. “Dad, she didn’t say a word all night. Not a word.”

“How the hell was she supposed to? Eight people around that table and that Freddy guy never shuts up.”

“It wasn’t the Freddy guy. Dad, I’m Thirty-six years old. I live at home with my parents and my three kids.”

“And she works at Bargain-Mart and lives in a trailer. Next.”

Bobby smiled. “Dad …”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Bobby. Don’t.”

“What about the kids?”

“What about them?”

Bobby sighed out.

“You think she can’t handle the fact that you have kids?” Clyde asked.

“No, I think she can’t handle my kids. I can’t handle my kids.”

“They’re easy. Just weird.” Clyde said. “She’s
 
... she’s weird, Bobby.”

“I know.”

“And did you notice. She isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

Bobby chuckled.

“She let Larson drive her around, without a second through mind you. Did you notice every time is was brought up that you’re a painter, she corrected you and said artist.”

Bobby nodded.

“When you were putting the baby to bed, she said she would love to see your work. Well, I thought, OK, here’s my opportunity to set her straight, since she wasn’t getting it. So I took her down to the office. Thought I’d show off the fresh yellow paint job you did. I opened the door and said, here is my son’s work. Flat out forgot that hanging above my desk was the Black velvet, paint by numbers, painting of the dogs, your mom did in 1983.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yeah. She raved about your work all right. Didn’t have the heart to tell her.”

Bobby laughed.

“You dated Betsy Ann since high school. You married her. She left you. Any other women you tried didn’t work out.”

“I know this.”

“You have odd children, Bobby. Ever stop to think the missing ingredient is an odd woman. You’ll never know unless you ask and try.” Clyde grabbed Bobby’s keys from the dresser and tossed them his way. “Go pick her up.” After a wink, Clyde walked out.

Bobby jingled his keys in his hand in thought.

+++

Grace knocked on Freddy’s bedroom door. “Guys, you’ve been in there for a while. I want to see.”

“In time.” Freddy called back. “I am in the middle of a creation, Art takes time, you know this.”

Grace folded her arms. “What exactly are you doing do her?”

“Giving her self esteem and making her gorgeous.”

Grace bobbed her head.

“Princess, why do you apply a fresh new layer of loveliness, change your clothes and join us?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said. “I really would like to try wings again but …”

“But what?” Freddy asked.

“Polly said about Bobby taking me out for a drink. He never asked or called. Do you think I blew it tonight?”

“Yes.” Freddy said.

Marybeth retorted. “That’s not nice, Freddy. How do you know she blew it?”

“She never spoke. If I was introducing my children to her and she didn’t interact, I’d not want anything to do with her either.”

“True. But, those kids …” Marybeth whistled. “Grace, why don’t you call him?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” Marybeth said from the other side. “Tell him to meet us there or come here. Maybe he’s just afraid he scared you tonight.”

“You really think I should?” Grace asked.

“Yes, what’s the worse that can happen? He turns you down.” Marybeth chuckled. “It can’t be any worse than me. I got stood up.”

“True. Ok. You know what? I will. Thanks guys.” With each step she took to the living room for her phone, she drew up some courage and went over the words in her mind. Reaching for her phone on the table, she stopped when the doorbell rang.

She answered it. “Bobby,” she said brightly.