The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake (4 page)
“That woman,” Evie said again.
“Now, Evie.”
“I know. It’s just that I could actually use her help, that is, if she would only do things the way they’re supposed to be done.” She sighed. “Here I am scrambling to get this Christmas tea together and I’ve got a wedding to plan. Say, did I tell you that Vernon and I set the date?”
“No!” I chided her. “And since I suppose I’ll be your matron of honor, this is something I need to know.”
“Of course you’ll be my matron of honor. Who else would be?
But you’re not going to like it.”
“Like what? The wedding?”
“No, the date. We’ve decided ‘why wait?’ Or, I should say, why wait any longer than we’ve already waited. We’re getting married the end of next month.”
“You mean January? This coming January?”
“That’s right, and there’s a million things to do, like selecting the bridesmaids dresses, renting the church, picking out the cake, sending the invitations. I mean, this is the wedding I never had, so
I’ve got to do it up big. Plus there needs to be a bridal shower.”
“That’ll be my job,” I said, giggling. “But honestly, Evie, you’re not going to be able to pull off a big wedding in such a short time frame, not without professional help. Do you think?”
Uh-oh. The line sounded like it went dead again.
“You mean Lisa Leann’s High Country Weddings, don’t you?”
“Yes, dear. It’s the only way. Besides, this could be the opportunity you two need to help you learn how to get along.”
Silence again.
“Well, then, glad that’s settled,” I teased. “Talk tomorrow?”
“Yes, okay.”
A couple of hours later, I pulled out my red Christmas placemats, the ones I’d gotten on clearance last year at Wal-Mart, and set the table with three Christmas plates loaded with hot microwaved leftovers. I lit my cinnamon candle centerpiece and put my cake and cake plates out on the nearby countertop before filling the glasses with ice and tea.
So despite the fact that my kitchen dining table was not located in a Beverly Hill’s mansion, we actually had a lovely dinner, though a few awkward silences occurred between Fred and David during the meal. Once when David asked me about his father, Joseph Jewell, I caught David’s eye and held my index finger to my lips as I tilted my head toward Fred.
I was glad Fred hadn’t seen the gesture, but at the same time, David caught the meaning and discreetly nodded as he changed the
subject. “Tell me about my grandmother, Maria Jewell.”
I laughed as I shared a memory of her. “She was so full of life and joy,” I said. “English was her second language, and as smart as she was, she would sometimes get things all twisted around. Like the night of my birthday dinner, she said, ‘Just for you, Vonnie, I
make birthday suit.
Si
?’ ”
Both Fred and David raised their eyebrows. “What had she meant to say?” David asked.
“Soup, she meant birthday soup!” I said, laughing.
David laughed while Fred shifted uneasily.
“That’s really the first time I’ve heard you speak of your former mother-in-law,” Fred said quietly. “I didn’t realize how important
she was to you.”
My laughter stopped, and I changed the subject again. “So, David,
you’re going out with Donna for breakfast tomorrow?”
Fred shifted uneasily again. I inwardly threw my hands in the air. Was there no safe topic?
David nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, she’s working the afternoon shift tomorrow, so we thought we’d do breakfast.” He attempted another topic. “Vonnie, tell me more about your mother. Is she still living?”
This time, it was my turn to try to change the subject. “Mother? Yes, she lives not far from here, in Frisco.”
“I’d love to meet her,” David said. “If it would be okay.”
I hopped up to scoop what was left of my pumpkin dessert into individual bowls.
“Wouldn’t that be interesting,” Fred said, then winked at me.
“That certainly would be,” I agreed as I put a bowl before each
of my men. “However, she might not be up for a visit.”
David picked up his fork and dug into the rich dessert. “She’s sick?”
Fred looked to me to see how I would answer. I nodded. “Yes, that’s how I’d describe it,” I said.
“That’s too bad,” David said between bites of the dessert. He smiled. “This is really good. Did you make this?”
“I did.” I smiled at my husband. “It’s one of Fred’s favorites.”
David looked wistful. “To think, all these years, I had a mom who could cook.”
“Harmony didn’t?” I asked, my own fork readied for my first
bite.
David laughed. “No, she had employees who could cook, but she wouldn’t go near the kitchen. She’d always give me ‘what for’ when she found me baking with her personal chef.” He imitated Harmony’s famous, sexy drawl. “My dear David, cooking is so beneath you. You’re royalty.”
I swallowed my bite. “Royalty?”
“Yeah, she meant Hollywood royalty. Not that any of those socalled ‘royals’ wanted anything to do with me.” His voice rose an octave. “‘Go to your room, dear, can’t you see Mummy is busy with
her leading man? We’ve got to practice our lines.’”
Fred looked at me then back at David. “So, I guess you’re saying you didn’t have much of a childhood, growing up in that mansion of yours.”
“Childhood? No, you could say I missed that part of my life.”
I reached for David’s hand. “Fred and I missed it too, dear.”
Fred looked at me with his eyebrows raised to question my meaning. “Come on,” I said to my husband. “You know good and well you’d have been a father to this boy if the two of us had shown up in Summit View. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have been able to resist us.”
Fred looked as if he felt a bit ashamed of himself. “You’re probably right. In some ways, this tragedy played out in a way that robbed
me of the only son I’d ever have.”
David stopped chewing and really looked at Fred. “Son?” He smiled. “Do you think it’s too late for that—for us to be father and
son, I mean?”
“We’re practically strangers, you, me, and Vonnie,” Fred said. “You were raised in a completely different world, ah, and lifestyle than ours.”
David pushed his plate away. “I know that. I feel like I was cheated out of a real family. Not that Harmony wasn’t good to me, in her own way; it’s just she didn’t know how to be a mother.” He looked at Fred and then looked down at the table. “I know we can’t really make up for all the lost years, but maybe, somehow, we could all become, you know, a family—especially since I’m moving here.”
Fred’s fork froze in midair.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that,” David said sheepishly. “I put the mansion on the market, and movers are already putting everything in storage. The contents of my apartment will be here in a couple of weeks. After breakfast with Donna tomorrow, I’ve got a date with a realtor so I can buy my own mountain bungalow. Then I’m going to see about getting a job as a paramedic. I’ve loved my job in LA, but there’s no reason I couldn’t pick up here where I’ve left off there.”
Fred’s eyes widened. “You’re moving here? Why—”
A pounding knock erupted at the front door. “Vonnie, Vonnie, open up!” a voice called.
I sprang from the table. “Daddy?”
“It’s your mother, Vonnie, she needs you,” he called from the other side of the door.
Fred and David followed as I flung open the front door while little Chucky performed his bark and dance routine.
There before me stood my mother, with my father by her side. She leaned on him like one would a cane. Then I noticed that her foot sported a brand new, rock hard, hot pink cast.
“She slipped on the ice outside our condo tonight and broke her ankle,” Dad said. “We just left the ER, and she insisted I bring her here. She says she can’t make it up and down our stairs, as steep
as they are.”
With Dad’s help, Mother hopped on one foot, scootching her
way toward me.
“It’s only for a few weeks,” she said. “I won’t be a bother. Besides, I’ll be much better able to navigate your place than ours.”
I felt as if my feet were stuck to the floor. How presumptuous she was. She knew how angry I was at her, but no, never mind my feelings and never mind that she was interrupting one of the most sacred moments of my life, not that she’d noticed.
She hobbled over the threshold as Dad guided her by an elbow. “Your father will run home and pack some of my things for me. I think I’ll manage fine in that guest bedroom of yours, even if it does need a good dusting.”
“But Mother...”
David peeked around me. “Well, who do we have here?” he said.
Mother stared at him, then chirped at me, “You have company?” She looked back at David. “Or is this your handyman making a latenight repair? If that’s the case, I’ll want your number, young man.”
“Mother!”
Her eyes locked to mine. “Yes, Vonnie?”
“Mother, I’d like to introduce you to David Harris.” I detected
a tremor in my voice as I announced, “Your grandson.”
Mother’s eyes widened in horror. David somehow ignored her reaction, and before she could protest, he gave her a quick hug, a hug that felt to me like sweet revenge. I tried not to smile as Mother stood
stiff in his embrace, all the while her eyes locked with mine.
David pulled back and turned to my father. “And you would
be?”
I said, “David, this is my father, your grandfather.”
David reached out and shook his hand. “It’s very nice to meet
you, sir.”
My father grinned. “I never thought I’d see this day,” he said.
That was an understatement. I wanted to blurt out a laugh but somehow refrained. If it weren’t for the announcement that Mother expected me to be her caregiver, the moment would have been
perfect.
I mean, I hadn’t spoken to Mother since I’d learned of her betrayal. And I probably would have slammed the door on her if David hadn’t been watching my every move. But to tell the truth, my emotions were in such a jumble that it was hard to react with anything other than caution. I’d figure all this out later. All I knew was I was not going to let my mother upstage the miracle of my
reunion with my son.
I found my voice. “Tonight, David, let’s put you in the study on
an air mattress. Dad, take Mother to the spare room.”
As I watched everyone spring to action I inwardly turned to the Lord.
Now what?
I asked him.
How do you expect me to handle
this?
How indeed.
Clay laid his head against the soft donut-shaped headrest and closed his eyes. From overhead the soothing sounds of Kenny G swept through the room. The scent of jasmine—or was that lavender— wafted from the flickering flames of nearby candles. His naked feet—which had experienced their first pedicure—stuck out from the stark white sheet covering him. They were cold, so he kicked a bit until the bottom of the sheet fell over his toes like a tent.
He breathed in. Breathed out. So this was what drew women in droves?
He heard a noise from beside him, and he peeped his eye to see the door open just enough to allow the petite Asian woman entrance. “You ready, Mr. Whitefield?” she said.
Clay closed his investigative eye and nodded.
Words were hardly necessary.
“I will begin by exfoliating your face,” she said, and he felt her presence as she moved to his head. “Then the rest of your body,” she continued.
“Will it hurt?” he asked, just above a whisper.
The girl giggled. “Not too much,” she said. “That’s the price of beauty, no?”
Goldie
Some days you’d just as soon wish away. Turn back the hands of time. Jump into bed, pull the covers over your head, and pretend they never happened. Such was this day.
It’s not that I hadn’t had bad days before. The good Lord knows I’d had some pretty bad ones. You can’t be married to an unfaithful man for nearly thirty years and come away unscathed.
But this one... this one was the worst of all. This one was such a slap in the face, I thought I’d never recover. What had started out as a cold and crisp December morning touched with a hint of promise, followed by an evening of dining and laughter with one of my best girlfriends, had turned into a night filled with despair.
Despair and anger. Fury.
Remorse.
Oh, why did I ever say I’d go away for a weekend with my estranged
husband, Lord? What in the world was I thinking?
I stood dead center before my opened bedroom closet, jerking at the clothes hung neatly and in color coordination along the wooden rod. “What was I thinking?” I said, ripping a maroon sweater away from its hanger and then shoving my arms into the sleeves. “Telling Jack I’d go away with him to a mountain cabin up in Summit Ridge. For two days and two nights?” I wrestled out of the sweater and threw it toward the bed, where one of my oldest and dearest friends sat perched on the end as though she were modeling for a
Sealy Posturepedic ad.
