The House on Olive Street (21 page)

At the sudden sound of the bell, Eleanor was nomi
nated by default to answer the door. Barbara Ann instinctively reached for another tomato to cut up; Sable went to the pantry for another envelope of instant rice. And they all grew quiet for a moment, waiting to see who had come.

“Ceola!” Eleanor said from the doorway.

The women all looked at each other for a second, thinking there must be some mistake. Beth and Sarah moved quickly toward the front door while Sable and Barbara Ann were a bit slower, pausing to set down utensils, lower the flame on the stove, dry hands.

There she stood, on the stoop, one large suitcase on each side of her, a large carry-on bag over her shoulder, her purse dangling from her forearm. She looked even shorter than her five feet because she was a step beneath them. Her hair was pink and thin—the color of cotton candy, but perfectly coifed—her eye makeup a little sloppy and her rouge too dark. She wore a rich designer suit in a pale green color with rhinestone buttons on the jacket, her pearls, her diamond rings and a green pillbox hat.

“Grandma?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, hello, dear. I didn’t know you would be here, too.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“This is where I always come when I’m out of sorts about something. And I’m at odds with Martin. He’s taken up an attitude with me.”

“But why did you come
here,
Ceola?” Sable asked. “I mean, with Gabby
gone—
”

“Well, I knew you were here because Sarah and David told me you were. And, as I say, this is where I come.”

They just stared at her. She’d flown in from Atlanta?
Without calling? Without notice? Expecting to stay
where?

“Isn’t anyone going to invite me in? I’ve had to piddle since the airport.”

Still, it took a second to respond. The shock, and all. It was Sable who eventually said, “Of course, come in. I…ah…guess you know where the lavatory is.”

“I guess I do,” she said, entering, squeezing between them all and toddling off down the hallway like she owned the place. She left the large suitcases where they stood, but she hauled her carry-on bag with her. The size of the suitcases indicated this was not an overnight visit.

When she was around the corner and out of sight, their heads came together instantly.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

“You heard her—this is where she comes when she’s out of sorts.”

“She can’t be dumping another husband! At her age?”

“She’s probably not dumping him, just leaving him until he straightens up and asks her to come home.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sarah said. “She used to show up about once a year, for one reason or another. It wasn’t like she came for a holiday or graduation or anything. I mean, it was never to see
us.
It’s like she says—this is where she comes.”

“Without notice? Without
asking?
”

“Yeah,” Sarah said, shrugging helplessly. “Pretty much.”

“What did your mother do with her?” Beth asked.

“Oh, nothing special. She made her breakfast—”

“Gabby made someone breakfast?! In the
morning?
”

“Grandma sleeps kind of late. And all she wants is tea, half an English muffin and some fruit. Oh, and some marmalade. It has to be marmalade.”

“Over my dead body,” Eleanor said.

“She wouldn’t mind that,” Sarah replied. “What are you going to do with her?”

“What are
we
going to do with her? She’s
your
grandmother!”

“Oh, we don’t have a relationship. And I don’t have a spare room—Lindsey’s sleeping with Justin and me. She did call me a couple of weeks ago. She called David, too. She wanted to know if Mom had left her anything.”

“Of all the insensitive, brutal—”

“Call David,” someone suggested. “He can take her.”

“David…and
Ed?
”

“Well, it’s time she got with it. After all, he’s her grandson.”

“But David won’t. He nearly hates her.”

“Then he can send her home! This is nonsense.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to get David to do that. He barely talks to her. I guess you could call Dad.”

“Call Don, Eleanor.”

“Me? Hell no. You call him.”

“What’s Don going to do?”

“He can take her to his place. We don’t have room for her here! There’s barely a surface in this house that isn’t being slept on or worked on!”

“I bet she won’t go to Don’s.
This
is where she comes.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It’s just too damn bad, that’s all. That woman has been browbeating people for seventy-odd years, getting her way no matter how inconvenient it is for others. She doesn’t have the least consideration for anyone but herself.”

“That’s true. Grandma’s pretty self-centered, but she’s awful old to change now.”

“Go tell her she can’t stay here, Sarah. Tell her she’ll have to go to a hotel.”

“I could tell her that, but she usually doesn’t listen to me. Oops, I’d better see about Lindsey. I left her on the table.”

They moved toward the kitchen in a sort of huddle, looking over their shoulders toward the hall, waiting for Ceola to appear.

“How long has this shit been going on? Ceola popping in like this because she’s out of sorts?”

“All my life,” Sarah said, leaning down to kiss Lindsey’s head. “I’d come home from school and there would be Grandma, relaxing on the deck, or lying back on the couch.”

“I’ve bumped into her here a few times myself,” Eleanor confessed.

“So have I,” said Sable. “It’s not usually a short visit, either.”

“A couple of weeks, minimum. I don’t know how Gabby did it.”

“Well, she
managed
her, was her way of putting it,” Sarah said. “Mom was always the only person in the world who could manage Grandma, as if catering to her was second nature for Mom. She knew just what to do and she just did it.”

“Well, no one around here knows what to do,” someone said.

“Where is she, anyway?”

“Piddling.”

“Jesus, she must have stored up a tank. She’s been in there a while.”

“We’re getting her out of here. She’s not staying here and that’s all there is to it.”

“Will someone please call Don?”

“Grandma didn’t like Dad very much. I don’t think he’ll be able to help with this.”

“What does she
do
while she’s here and out of sorts?”

“She mostly relaxes. She has her hair done. Mom would have to take her, of course, because she doesn’t drive or anything. And she likes to go shopping….”

“God help us—”

“Basically she watches her soaps and gets a good rest.”

“Why was your mother so indulgent of Ceola? I mean, didn’t Ceola mainly neglect and ignore her all her life?”

“I’m surprised she made an appearance at the funeral,” Sarah said. “But then, as David pointed out, mourning is one of her gifts.”

“Jesus.”

“Okay, we can all tell her together, or one of us can go.”

“And say what?”

“How about, ‘Ceola, unfortunately there is no room for you to stay here. We are all here because we’re working on Gabby’s writings and no one can see to your needs’?”

“What needs? All she wants is tea and half an English muffin….”

“And hair appointments and shopping and soaps and probably a number of other things that Gabby just did as a matter of reflex. She always said that she was her mother’s mother.”

“Okay, how about, ‘We’re all delighted to see you, Ceola, but since the house is filled with crazy women who have given up their families and careers and you would probably be in mortal danger here, you’ll have to go to a hotel’?”

“That’s good. I like that.”

“What is
taking
her so long?”

“She probably keeled over in the bathroom. Someone better go check on her.”

“Oh God, if I have to call another hearse to this house…”

“What if she grabs her heart and drops like a stone when we tell her—”

“Listen, she isn’t as frail as she looks. She’s browbeaten more men in her lifetime than most of us have
met!
”

“She can’t stay. Are we agreed?”

“God, yes.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, so are we doing it together, as a team, or is one of us going to—”

Sable, who had crept away to peek down the hall, came back to the huddle. “Listen, she’s not in the bathroom! I think she’s in
my
room!”

“What the hell’s she doing in there?”

“She’s probably settling in,” Sarah said. “And waiting for you to bring her her bags so she can unpack.”

“Jesus Christ! This isn’t
her house,
for God’s sake.”

“That never stopped her in the past.”

“Don’t even go back there, Sable. Just wait for her to come out here. Then we’ll tell her and offer to call her a cab.”

“This is Gabby’s mother we’re talking about,” some weak-kneed coward said.

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? I mean, you’re never too old to learn a few manners, for Christ’s sake. She could have at least called and asked if we could have her.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Sarah said. “She doesn’t bother to ask if the answer might be no. She just sort of…assumes.”

“She can assume at the fucking Holiday Inn.”

“This is a little old lady! Take it easy!”

“Hey, you’d better remember this is the bossiest, most presumptuous, most abusive little old lady in the free world. She’s brought entire hotel staffs to their knees!”

“As I said, this is no hotel. We’re packed in here like sardines anyway. And we’re working. We aren’t operating a home for runaway septuagenarians.”

“No, indeed! We’re operating a…a…what the hell are we operating here?”

“It doesn’t matter. We have a mission here. Ceola cannot just come in and roost because she’s out of sorts.”

“Oh yeah? I think she has.”

“Someone has to tell her. She obviously isn’t coming out here. Who’s it going to be? Elly?”

“Not me,” she said. “I’m too blunt. There’s no need to hurt her. We need a little tact and I don’t have a tactful bone in my body. Maybe Beth.”

“Beth will never get the words out of her mouth. She’ll give her a pedicure or something. Barbara Ann can do it.”

“Barbara Ann doesn’t even know her. I’ll do it,” Sable said. “There’s no way that woman is going to walk all over me.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know. That it’s impossible for her to stay. That there simply isn’t room. That we’ll be closing up the house and putting it on the market first thing tomorrow morning and her timing just couldn’t be worse. I don’t know. But you can bet I’ll get that little pink tuft of hair out of here, along with all her bangles and suitcases.”

“Try to be nice.”

“Remember, she’s just a little old lady. She can only intimidate you if you let her.”

“Go get her, tiger.”

“Yeah, well, good luck, but my money’s on Grandma.”

Sable took a deep breath, straightened her spine and stomped off in the direction of her bedroom. Someone had to do the dirty work. Ceola would be fine at a hotel. Sable would make the arrangements herself, even pay for it if necessary. But she did start to feel nervous as she approached the guest-room door. She tapped lightly and heard Ceola’s voice, suddenly frail, answer. “Come in.”

Sable pushed open the door and saw Ceola sitting on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a flowing, expensive, purple peignoir—lots of lace and many gathers of sheer fabric. Her jewelry was stacked neatly on the bed beside her and she was rubbing lotion into her hands. Her bare feet showed off toes cruelly bent from years in fashionable shoes, but the toenails were perfectly pedicured in shiny red. She looked up at Sable as she rubbed her hands together in a wringing motion. Her lips were trembling and there were tears in her eyes.

“I can see I’ve put someone out,” she said weakly, tearfully. “But this is where I’ve always stayed.”

“Yes, Ceola, but I’m afraid your timing could not possibly be worse,” Sable said.

“Oh, I’m sure of that. I’m sure of that. I’m a burden to most everyone in my life, come to that. I should have notified you all that I wanted to come…but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted so much to be here, no matter what. I…just…miss…my little Gabby…so….”

“Now, Ceola,” Sable said, moving farther into the room. “I’m sure you do. We all do. But the fact is, we’re here working on her posthumous writings, and—”

“What an advantage you have over me. Being right here in her house where you can feel close to her for just a little while longer. How very, very lucky you are. All of you.”

“But Ceola—”

“I apologize for not being more sociable. I should have come straight from the potty to the kitchen where you’re all gathering this evening, but I began to feel so terribly weak. It was a long flight, after all. All the way from Atlanta. And I was too upset to eat anything on the plane. All I’ve had today was just the littlest bite of a cracker. And some club soda. Will you ask the girls to forgive my bad manners?”

“Yes, certainly, but the problem is much larger than that, Ceola. You see—”

“It’s you I’ve put out of a room, isn’t it, dear? Oh my, I wouldn’t want that. It’s just that this is where I’ve always stayed, when I came here so many other times to be with Gabby. If you’ll just tell me where to go, I’ll make do anywhere. Any old blanket on the rug. These old, tired, aching bones don’t really care anymore. Isn’t that the worst of it, when you lose someone you love? That you just don’t
care
anymore? I so loved Gabby. My only child, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Sable said, thinking
I’d love to tell her where to go.
“Ceola, I have to tell you something—”

“And I have to tell you something, dear. It’s been left unsaid for far too long. I just want you to know how
deeply
I appreciate the devoted friendship you always showed my Gabby. She spoke about you often, you know.”

“She did?”

“Oh my, yes, all the time. I think you came up in almost every conversation we had. She was so very, very proud of you…all your fabulous success. I once asked her if it was ever difficult, having a friend so rich and famous, but she said, no. Never. She said your wealth and fame had never spoiled you and that you were still the sweet, kind, generous girl she knew in college.”