Sweet Carolina Morning (18 page)

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 have 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.

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.

M
onday 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 registered,” 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.

Pretending to be listening to another group, Linny mentally crossed her fingers as the others seated around his table responded to him.

Jessica cocked her head and looked at him like he was adorable. “Well, of course you need to smile and be sweetie-sweet, you big silly.”

Linny tensed, waiting for the explosion, but Denny just flushed a dark red and tried to hide a chagrined smile.

Jessica turned her hands palms up, as if it was obvious to everyone. “You've just been being Mr. Tough Guy Mechanic for so long that you never knew it was time to start acting nicer to people, and you need to.”

Tina chimed in, running a hand through her crew cut. “You do. In your feedback your boss even said he wanted to promote you to running the whole shop if you can get better with customers. That's a pretty big deal, Denny.” She gave him a matter-of-fact nod.

Somebody else said to him, “You can do it, Denny.” From under her eyelashes, Linny stole a glance at Denny. He was shaking his head and looked flustered, but the corners of his mouth had turned up, and he sat straighter in his chair.

Feeling a rush of vindication, Linny bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning and cruised over to another table to listen in on them.

* * *

When the class ended, Linny handed each student a certificate of completion, and as they left the room, she shook hands with them and was warmed by their comments.

Bob grasped both of her hands in his, his voice fervent as he thanked her. “You taught me things I can use to do the very best I can for Lush Lawns. It's not just a job for me. I'm building a career there.”

Over his shoulder, Linny watched Denny and the Spivey's boys slip out the side door to avoid saying good-bye to her. What did she expect, for Denny, Wayne, and Ennis to tell her, “The information was most valuable and I'll surely use it to improve my skills”? But as the wooden door closed softly behind them, Denny glanced back in through a glass panel in the door, caught her eye, and gave her a curt nod. She gave him a crooked smile and nodded back. Okay. She'd take it.

* * *

Late Tuesday afternoon Linny finished up smoothing Calm and Gleam to her springy hair before leaving for supper at Mama's and glanced down at her phone yet again. Since Sunday she'd watched her phone as avidly as a teenaged girl, waiting for a text from a boy she had a crush on. She missed Jack terribly and hadn't talked with him in forty-four hours.

In this next phase of her new cool and breezy mode, Linny had decided to communicate with Jack just via text. If she talked to him, she might lose resolve and blurt out, “I'm playing hard to get.” She so missed his deep drawl that she'd listen to old voice mails from him. A half hour earlier she'd twice played back a message in which he'd asked her to pick up paper towels, kibble, and ketchup while she was at the grocery store. Linny shook her head. Pathetic. Disgusted with herself, she turned her phone off and slipped it into her purse.

It was almost six o'clock. Linny lured Roy into his crate with a chicken-flavored dog cookie and slid shut the bolt. With one last look in the mirror to apply a slick of lipstick, she was off to the meet-and-greet supper with Mack. What in the world could Mama's big surprise be? She couldn't be announcing running off with Mack? When Linny had told her mother that she was marrying Jack so soon after she'd started dating him, Dottie had burst into happy tears and hugged her, saying, “Love has no timetable, sugar. You deserve to be happy.” Yikes. Maybe Mama
was
marrying Mack.

She'd walk to Mama's and work off her nervous energy. Carefully holding the dolled-up version of a box cake mix called Lolita's Lovely Lemon Pound Cake she'd made that afternoon from a Fun Mom's recipe, she'd thought about the quick phone conversation she'd had with Kate. Her sister had talked to Jerry and he'd said they needed to give Mack a chance. If Mack wasn't a scoundrel, what was he like, and how would he and her mama be together? Daddy used to shoot Linny an exasperated eye roll when Mama chattered on too much, and with a pang of guilt, Linny recalled enjoying feeling like a coconspirator with him. She just hoped Mack was at least more respectful to her mother than Daddy had been.

In the driveway she saw Mama's Buick and a dark gray Jeep Grand Cherokee nosed up beside it. Hmm. Maybe this was a good sign. Conservative. Outdoorsy. No vanity plate that read
CREALKLR.
So far, so good.

Kate's Honda wheeled into the driveway, kicking up dust and coming to a bouncing halt. Linny stopped in her tracks, wide-eyed. Not Kate's usual sedate, bordering on old ladyish style of driving. With her cloth shopping bag draped on her arm, her sister slammed the car door, stalked toward the house, and stopped abruptly. From the end of the driveway, Linny watched as her sister launched into a yoga-ish maneuver, lifting her arms slowly overhead, breathing like she was in labor, and moving her hands to a praying position over her heart. She'd neglected to take off the shopping bag and her purse, and they kept bumping against her rounded belly, but Kate didn't seem to notice.

“Hey there, sweets,” Linny called softly and edged toward her cautiously, the way Jack had taught her to approach a horse that might kick. She tilted her head and gazed at Kate. “What's going on?”

Kate's eyes were stormy. “Jerry's slipping back into his old workaholic ways.”

“Is he?” Linny asked, genuinely surprised. He'd seemed like a changed man after Kate had had a come-to-Jesus talk with him a few months before and told him she refused to raise a baby with a workaholic Daddy. She patted her sister's arm sympathetically. “Tell me.”

Kate frowned and nodded. “He's been getting home from work later and later, just like before, and it took me a while to notice because I've been so busy with teaching and getting ready for the baby. Just now, he announced—by text, the big chicken—that he's going up to the mountains to meet with some richy-rich clients who want him to build them a fancy retirement house on a mountain. He's leaving at four a.m. tomorrow morning to meet them in Waynesville.”

“That's near Asheville, right?” Linny asked. That was a good five hours away.

“Yup,” Kate said crisply. “He'll be gone two days. He'll miss a Lamaze class, too.” Her voice was wobbling now, and she blinked, looking dangerously close to tears.

Linny felt a flare of anger. She loved Jerry to pieces, but he was acting like a knucklehead. Couldn't he see how much Kate needed him these days? Making a mental note to try to shake some sense into him if Kate couldn't, Linny put an arm around her sister's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Well, honey, sounds like he's backsliding, but you got him to see the light last time. You can do it again.”

“I shouldn't have to,” she said stubbornly. “He's so determined to be gone all the time or die early by neglecting his health, and I just can't have it. I have the baby to consider.”

“I know,” Linny said with a sympathetic look. Last time it had taken Kate packing a bag and staying at the Marriott downtown for a few days to get Jerry's attention about his out-of-control work schedule.

Kate hesitated for a moment and, looking steely-eyed, said, “I'll do what I have to do.” Lifting her chin, she pushed back her shoulders and composed her face.

Linny felt a wave of relief. Kate would go to the mat with him about his family needing to be a priority, and when she did, Jerry would come to his senses fast. Linking arms with her sister, Linny slowly walked her in the direction of the front door. “Now let's see what Mr. Mack is really like. Maybe we'll hook him up with electrodes and do one of those lie detector tests.”

A smile played at the corner of Kate's mouth.

Linny went on, “And here's a big question: What in the world is our retired-from-cooking Mama having for supper? Maybe she'll buy takeout and try to make Mack think it's homemade. Can't you picture Mama pushing the empty Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket into the trash can and fluffing newspapers on top to hide the evidence?”

Kate's face had cleared and she smiled. “I can.”

Linny called out a hello and pulled open the door. A delicious aroma wafted toward them, and she raised a brow at her sister.

As they walked toward the kitchen, Kate whispered, “Can takeout smell this good?”

Linny shrugged, mystified.

Standing in front of an open oven, Mama smiled cheerily and waved them into the kitchen with an oven-mitted hand. “Come in, sweet girls. Mack is in the other room. Curtis accidentally knocked over a table with that tail of his and Mack's fixing it. The table, I mean.” She dimpled happily. “I love a man who's handy.”

Linny blinked. Daddy had been world-class handy, and look how that had turned out.

Her mother pulled a succulent-looking glazed ham dotted with cloves from the oven and slid it onto the stovetop. On the back burners a pan of fried okra sizzled and sweet steam rose from a casserole dish of candied sweet potatoes.

“Yum,” Kate said as she leaned in to hug her mother.

Linny kissed Dottie and asked in a playful tone, “Mama, can it be that you actually cooked a meal from scratch?”

Dottie eyed them over steamed-up glasses and said tartly, “I can still cook, girls. It just got to be an awful lot of bother to cook for just one person.”

Linny flushed. She knew all too well how lonely if felt to cook for one after cooking for two. She leaned over and gave her mother another kiss. “Well, it smells divine.”

Looking mollified, Dottie gave the okra a quick stir with a wooden spoon. “I'm about finished here. I'm just going to let this ham cool for a little bit and then we'll eat.” She slipped the apron off her head and looped it on a hook in the pantry.