Waking Up in Charleston (7 page)

As he left the house, Caleb had the uneasy sense that he’d just made another pact with the devil and that it was one he was going to have plenty of time to regret.

Mary Louise couldn’t seem to quit throwing up. She’d been munching on saltines and sipping ginger ale
all day, but the stupid morning sickness was worse than the flu. It just wouldn’t go away.

She knew she must look like a total wreck, because Willie Ron came into the Stop and Shop to get his check, took one look at her and ordered her to get out and go home to bed.

“Come back to work when you’re over this flu bug,” he said. “I can cover your shift and mine till then.”

“I can’t leave. I’m supposed to work a double shift,” she told him.

“And I’m here,” he pointed out. “I’ll fill in.”

“But you just stopped by,” she protested. “It’s not fair to ask you to cover for me on your day off. You’ve probably got plans.”

“Nothing that can’t wait, and you didn’t ask. I offered,” he said. “Besides, somebody’s liable to come in and rob the place if they know you’re locked in the bathroom every fifteen minutes.”

That possibility had actually crossed her mind, too. She was always careful to lock the register before going into the bathroom, but if anyone hung around and noticed her repeated absence, who knew what they might decide to do? Even if they only stole some beer or candy, she didn’t want it happening on her watch. The manager would eventually catch on that inventory was going missing on her shift and she’d be fired, no questions asked. Even though she wasn’t on some career track here, she didn’t want to lose this job, not now when every penny was going into savings for the baby.

“Okay,” she said at last. “But why don’t I at least stay and keep you company? That way if Mr. Garrison shows up, he won’t think I’m blowing off work.”

“And why don’t I just tell him that we switched shifts?” Willie Ron suggested. “He doesn’t care as long as the place is covered and he doesn’t have to cut us a check for any more money. Besides, what makes you think I want that flu bug you’ve got?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said at last. If he was going to cover for her, then he had a right to know the whole story. He’d be the first person outside the family and Reverend Webb she’d told. “Willie Ron, there’s something you should know. I’m not going to get better, at least not anytime soon. I can’t keep asking you to sub for me.”

His dark brown eyes widened as understanding dawned. “You telling me this ain’t the flu? You got a baby coming, Mary Louise?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Seems that way.”

“Well, praise the Lord, if that ain’t the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” He shook his head, looking dazed. “A baby. You and Danny, huh? He must be pretty excited.” At her lack of a response, his gaze narrowed. “He is excited, isn’t he?”

“Not exactly.”

He regarded her with undisguised indignation. “That boy ain’t going to marry you?”

She shook her head. “No, but I don’t want to talk about it, okay? This is for the best.”

Willie Ron looked as if he had a whole lot more he wanted to say, but he must have seen something in Mary Louise’s expression that stopped him.

“Well, the man’s a fool, that’s all I’ve got to say,” he huffed at last. “And no matter what you want, I intend to tell him that if he shows his face around here.”

She smiled at his indignation. “Thanks for the support.”

“You need anything, you come to Willie Ron, you hear? I’ll fuss over you,” he promised. “Your parents okay with all this?”

“They’re getting there,” she said. “Actually, they’ve been pretty great. I know they wish things were different, but they’ve stopped giving me those awful pitying looks and my dad’s not talking about getting out his shotgun anymore.”

Just then her stomach rolled. “Oh, hell, here we go again,” she moaned.

“Go,” Willie Ron said. “I’ll have some nice cold ginger ale for you when you come back.”

Mary Louise sprinted for the bathroom. Inside, once the heaving stopped, her eyes filled with tears. Why couldn’t Danny have been the one waiting out there with ginger ale? Why did she have to go through this pregnancy with only her folks and Willie Ron in her corner? And Reverend Webb, she amended.

Then she thought about how generously her folks had rallied on her behalf, how solidly Reverend Webb had stood by her when she’d had to face her folks and how sweet Willie Ron had been just now. Maybe she should stop feeling sorry for herself and count herself lucky for having four decent, strong people on her side. There were lots of girls in her shoes who had no one. Whenever she got low, she needed to remind herself of that.

Caleb was pretty proud of himself for finessing that deal to get Amanda to help out with the church’s youth
group. It was going to be good for all of them, her included. She needed to prove to herself that she had something to offer the world. He was convinced that at some point in the future she could go back to school and get a degree in psychology, if she felt so inclined.

Then again, maybe she’d prefer to put to use those business courses she’d taken before dropping out of school. He had a hunch she’d downplayed those courses during her job hunt so folks wouldn’t think she was overqualified to be a clerk in a boutique and working a register out at the new superstore. Maybe he’d take a look at the classifieds himself and see if there weren’t a few jobs out there that would help her bring in more than minimum wage.

In the meantime, knowing that he’d be seeing her on a regular basis on his turf was a side benefit, as well, even if it was going to add to his frustration. He wanted so many things when he was with her, but some of them were simply out of reach. A few Saturdays ago at her house, he’d been forced to accept that when he’d heard her talking about her dreams for the future and how much she wanted to have another baby.

He told himself it was just as well to know right now that he couldn’t fit in with those dreams, especially since she was going to flip out when she found out he’d been spending so much time with her father. At least now he’d more or less accepted that things were going to end between them. It was only a matter of time. The blowup over him hiding his relationship with Big Max would just finish things off.

And given what might be going on with Big Max’s health and his own determination that Amanda needed
to know, that blowup was going to happen much sooner than he might have preferred.

“Hey, Caleb, you look as if you’re a million miles away,” Cord observed when he walked into Caleb’s office. “Troubles?”

“Anticipating trouble,” Caleb responded grimly. “What brings you by? Did we have an appointment?”

“Nope. I just took a chance you might have some time.”

“Of course.” Caleb studied him intently. “You worried about becoming a dad?”

Cord’s expression brightened. “No way. I can hardly wait. Of course, if I keep on fussing over Dinah, she’s likely to leave me long before the baby comes. She’s determined to work right up till the labor pains start,” he said, a disgusted note in his voice. “Would you tell me why any woman would balk at a little pampering?”

Caleb chuckled. Dinah had been an internationally recognized foreign correspondent before coming home to Charleston and marrying Cord. She was used to her independence. “I don’t imagine it’s the pampering she’s objecting to,” he told Cord. “Something tells me you’re trying to control how she spends her days.”

Cord flushed guiltily. “I just want her to have a happy, healthy baby.”

“Don’t you think that’s what she wants?”

“I suppose,” Cord said grudgingly. “But she goes chasing all over town in that satellite truck the TV station has. I’ve seen the way those cameramen drive. They’re maniacs when they’re on the scent of a story.”

“And your wife isn’t?”

“Of course she is. I’d just like it better if one of the
people in the truck remembered that there’s a baby on board,” he grumbled, then sighed heavily. “Nothing I can do about it, though.”

“Not unless you want a full-scale war,” Caleb agreed. “So, if it’s not about impending fatherhood, why did you come by?”

“Actually it was something George Winslow said the other day when we were building that tree house for Amanda’s kids.”

“Oh?”

“He said it was a shame we couldn’t build another house for another family in need of a decent place to live.”

Caleb didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “Really? George actually said that?”

“He even said he’d be willing to find some land, if Josh and I would consider building on it. He thought you’d probably know of another family who deserves to be helped out.” He met Caleb’s gaze. “So what do you think?”

“Do you and Josh have the time?” Caleb asked, trying to contain his enthusiasm. He had half-a-dozen families who’d approached him after hearing about what the church had done for Amanda. It had been disheartening to tell them all that her house had been a one-shot deal. “I know you have a big new historic renovation project over in Atlanta. Isn’t that going to take all your time?”

“Not really. Since we managed to train so many volunteers who worked on Amanda’s house, it wouldn’t require much more than supervision from the two of us,” Cord said. “I think we could do it mainly on the weekends. It wouldn’t go fast, but we should be able to get
another house up by spring, if we don’t have a hard winter around here. I think we all came away from this last project feeling real good about what we accomplished. Why stop there?”

Caleb beamed at him. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. And I certainly don’t think we’ll have any difficulty at all finding the right family for it. I have a list in my file right now.”

“A list?” Cord repeated, looking startled. “How many families?”

“Six,” Caleb said.

“Have you checked them out? Are they all legitimately in need of something like this?”

“I haven’t done that yet, since I didn’t think there was any way we could help them, but I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”

Cord’s expression turned thoughtful. “Let me know what you find out, okay? As soon as possible.”

Caleb dared to get his hopes up. “What are you thinking?”

“That when I tell George to look around for some property, I’ll tell him to make sure it has room for several houses,” Cord said. “It’ll do him good to spend some of that money’s he’s squirreled away on a worthy cause. Maybe I can set up a small division within Beaufort Construction to keep a supervisor on the payroll for these housing projects. It would be good PR for the company.”

Caleb thought about an idea that had been simmering in the back of his mind for a while now. Since Cord was here and in a benevolent mood, he decided the timing was right.

“Mind if I ask another favor of you?” Caleb asked.

“Shoot.”

“Do you know Danny Marshall?”

“Tall, good-looking kid who won a scholarship to Clemson?” Cord asked.

Caleb nodded.

“Sure. What about him?”

“He wants to study architecture. His real interest is in historic preservation.”

Cord leaned forward. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“What would you think about hiring him on during school breaks and next summer? Seems like it would be a perfect match. The kid’s a hard worker and he’s highly motivated to make some money these days.”

“Oh?”

“He has a baby on the way.”

Cord winced. “Married at his age? And in college? That’s tough.”

“He’s not married, but he wants to do as much as he can for the baby and for its mother,” Caleb said. “He’s a responsible kid and Mary Louise is terrific. It took a lot of guts for both of them to come to this decision. I think, given the right chance, they could wind up together as long as they don’t put too much pressure on themselves or expect too much too soon.”

Cord studied him with a narrowed gaze. “This is about more than a job, isn’t it?”

Caleb gave him an innocent look. “A job’s all I mentioned.”

“But I know you, Reverend. You always have ulterior motives up the wazoo.”

“I should probably be insulted that you’d say such a thing,” Caleb said, but he could hardly deny the truth.

“Come on,” Cord prodded. “Out with it. What do you really want?”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you and Dinah took those two under your wings, so to speak.”

“And do what? Push them down the aisle?”

“Absolutely not. Just mentor them. Amanda’s already been a big help, but I think you and Dinah could take up where she left off. You show Danny how to get on the path you followed and Dinah can help Mary Louise find her way. Mary Louise needs someone—another woman—to confide in. If she and Danny happen to find their way back to each other in the process, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

Cord regarded him with admiration. “You’re a very sneaky man and a romantic to boot.”

Caleb grinned. “And not the least bit ashamed of it,” he countered. Not when it was for a worthy cause.

If ever two kids needed a strong support system, it was Danny and Mary Louise. Caleb might agree with their decision not to rush into marriage, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see their love wither and die. In some ways, the wise decision they’d made told him just how strong that love was, especially on Mary Louise’s part. Who knew what the future might hold for those two?

O
n Friday night as she was fixing dinner, Amanda heard shouts in the backyard and went running out the door. “What on earth?” she muttered as she saw boards flying out of the tree house. “Larry O’Leary, Jimmy O’Leary, you come down from there right this instant.”

The destruction continued.

“I mean it,” she shouted. “I want you down from there right now!”

The two boys slowly climbed down. Larry’s expression was mutinous.

“I’m not going to ’pologize,” he said fiercely. “I’m not. I hate that tree house!”

“Me, too,” Jimmy said, though far less forcefully. Tears were streaking down his cheeks.

Ignoring the destruction for the moment, Amanda hunkered down in front of them, hoping to make sense of their shattered expressions. “I thought you both loved the tree house. You begged Caleb to help you build it. What happened?”

They exchanged a look, but neither boy responded.

“If you don’t give me an answer, then you’re both going to be grounded for a very long time,” she said qui
etly but emphatically. “Caleb, Josh and Cord worked very hard to build that for you and you were up there wrecking it. I don’t understand how you could do such a thing or why you’d want to.”

She focused her attention on Jimmy, who could usually be counted on to cave in first. “Why do you suddenly hate the tree house?”

“Because,” he began, only to be cut off by a scowl from his brother. He scuffed the toe of his sneaker in the dirt and avoided her gaze.

“Because why?” she asked patiently.

Jimmy kept his lips clamped tightly together. Larry’s expression remained equally unyielding. Amanda sighed. When they were like this—united as loyal brothers—she couldn’t get anything from them. She could only dole out punishment, let tempers cool and hope for more forthcoming answers later.

“Okay, then. I want you both to go into the house, get your schoolbooks, then have a seat at the kitchen table. You can spend the rest of the evening doing homework.”

Jimmy’s gaze shot up. “But we never have to do homework on Friday night.”

“Tonight you do,” she said firmly.

“What if we finish?” Jimmy asked.

“Then you’ll read ahead on all your assignments until I say you can leave the table.”

“But that’s mean,” Larry protested.

“So is destroying something that other people were kind enough to build for you,” she said. “That’s both mean and ungrateful. Think about that while you’re in there.”

“What about Susie? Are you gonna punish her, too?” Larry asked angrily.

Amanda’s startled gaze flew back up to the tree house. “Is she up there?”

“No, she’s in the playhouse,” Larry said. “But she’s gonna tear it down, too. We were gonna help when we got finished with the tree house.”

“I see,” Amanda said wearily. “Go inside now. And I expect to see you hard at work on your homework when I come in. Otherwise, you’ll spend tomorrow in your room thinking about this some more.”

“Can we…?” Jimmy began.

She frowned before he could finish the request. “No snacks,” she said, anticipating him.

“But you just baked cookies,” he whined.

She leveled a look into his eyes. “I know, but they were for kids who’d been behaving themselves. Now I’m going to take them down to the church on Sunday for the coffee hour after the morning service.”

Jimmy whirled on his brother. “I
told
you we were going to get into trouble.”

“And I told you I didn’t care,” Larry retorted unrepentantly.

Amanda waited till they’d gone into the house before crossing the lawn to the playhouse. She opened the door and stepped inside the single room with its pretty pink eyelet curtains and child-size furniture. Susie was sitting in a rocking chair clutching her favorite doll, tears streaming down her face. Thankfully there was no indication she’d tried to destroy anything.

“Okay, Susie, what do you know about Jimmy and Larry wrecking the tree house?” Amanda asked, not the
least bit ashamed of her divide-and-conquer technique. Sometimes it was the only way to stay one step ahead of her kids.

Susie’s lower lip quivered. “Nothing,” she said.

“Really? They told me the playhouse was going to be next,” Amanda said. “Is that true?”

Her daughter looked miserable, but she nodded.

“Why?” Amanda asked, then waited, her gaze steady.

“Because we’re mad,” Susie admitted eventually. “And they don’t want the dumb old tree house anymore.”

“And you don’t want your playhouse?”

Susie looked less certain about that.

“Did you want to tear it down?” Amanda asked.

Suddenly Susie flew out of the rocker and threw her arms around Amanda’s neck. “I love my playhouse,” Susie whispered, her voice muffled against Amanda’s neck, her tears dampening Amanda’s T-shirt. “But I’m mad, too.”

“Why, baby? Who are you mad at?” Amanda asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew.

“Mr. Caleb,” Susie said, a hitch in her voice. “He left us, just like Daddy.”

Amanda had seen this coming a mile away, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Oh, sweetie, it’s not like Daddy at all. Your daddy didn’t want to leave us. It was an accident. And he can’t come back. Caleb just gets busy with other people sometimes and can’t spend as much time with you as he wants to. He’s our friend and we have to share him. It’s not as if he’s part of our family.”

“But I want him to be,” Susie said stubbornly. “If Daddy can’t ever come back, then I want Mr. Caleb to be my new dad. That’s what Jimmy and Larry want, too. Why can’t he do that?” She regarded Amanda hopefully. “We’d promise not to be any trouble.”

“Tearing down the tree house he built isn’t a very good way to show him that, is it?” Amanda said wryly.

She gazed into Susie’s misery-filled eyes and wondered how on earth she was supposed to make a five-year-old understand that life didn’t work like that, that she and her brothers couldn’t simply pick someone to be their new dad and make it happen. For that matter, how was she going to explain it to her sons, who were older, but obviously no less desperate to fill their father’s shoes?

She clearly had to tell them something, though. She couldn’t let them hate Caleb for something that was probably her fault, not his. She’d seen this moment coming, she’d even mentioned it to Caleb, and yet she’d done nothing to discourage their growing dependence on him. She hadn’t even done a very good job of keeping her own attachment in check.

Her heart aching for all of them, she said, “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go inside. I think we all need to have a talk.”

Susie regarded her hopefully. “Caleb, too?”

“No, this is just about the four of us—you, me, Jimmy and Larry,” Amanda said.

“Oh,” Susie said sadly.

Outside the playhouse, Amanda scooped up Susie, even though she was more than a handful to carry, and went inside. To her relief, both boys were doing exactly
as she’d instructed them to do. Their schoolbooks were open on the kitchen table and they were doing their assignments. Apparently they’d concluded that they’d tested her patience enough for one night.

“Okay, time out,” she said, settling herself and Susie into another chair. “Let’s talk about what happened tonight and why.”

Both boys stared at her resentfully, waiting.

“I understand that you’re all upset because Caleb hasn’t been around lately,” she said quietly.

“You told!” Larry shouted, turning his angry gaze on Susie. “You’re nothing but a little tattletale!”

Susie clung to Amanda more tightly.

“Yeah. And we’re never telling you anything ever again,” Jimmy added.

“Enough!” Amanda commanded. “The point is that I do get why you’re feeling bad and why you were lashing out and trying to wreck your tree house. I really do.”

“No, you don’t,” Larry muttered.

“You were feeling abandoned by someone you’d started to count on,” Amanda said, her gaze locked with his. “Isn’t that right?”

Both boys seemed surprised that she’d gotten that.

“I guess,” Larry finally agreed.

“But who did you really hurt by tearing apart your tree house?” she asked. “Now you all don’t have something you really wanted. Do you think that will get even with Caleb? Won’t it hurt you more in the end?”

Their gazes faltered as they considered that.

“Well?” she prodded.

“I guess we really blew it, huh, Mom?” Jimmy murmured eventually, looking chagrined.

“I think you did,” she said. “How about you, Larry?”

He gave her a grudging nod.

“So, what might have been a better way to handle your anger?” she asked.

They stared at her blankly.

“Maybe you could have talked to me about it,” she prompted. “Or maybe you could have given Caleb a call and asked him where he’s been. Maybe if he’d realized how much you miss him, he would have worked something out to spend time with you. I know he adores you guys. He would never intentionally hurt your feelings.”

“Can we call him now?” Susie asked excitedly. “Maybe he’ll come for pizza.”

Amanda gave her daughter a quick hug. “Not today, sweet pea. The boys are still being punished for what they did. I’m not canceling that, but I will lift the restrictions after today now that I understand why you were so upset.”

“Then we can call Caleb tomorrow?” Jimmy asked, his eyes brightening. “Can we invite him for dinner?”

“Yes,” she agreed, then leveled a look at each of them in turn. “But listen to me, if he says he can’t come, if he already has other plans, you need to accept that. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. I’m sure he’ll make time for you as soon as he can.”

And in the meantime, she would do everything in her power to figure out how to extricate them all from a relationship that had suddenly gotten way too complicated.

Max’s hands trembled so badly he had to clutch the arms of the chair to steady them. “Say that again,” he
commanded Doc Mullins, as if daring him to repeat the diagnosis.

“I don’t know how many times you need to hear this, Max, but I’ll keep repeating it as often as you need me to. You have the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s. There’s little question about it,” the man who’d been Max’s doctor for forty years repeated bluntly. “I’m sorry, Max.”

Even though he’d been expecting it, the instinct to deny came on strong. “I forget a few things. What’s the big deal? Everybody does. It doesn’t mean I have Alzheimer’s,” Max insisted, wishing he hadn’t pushed the doctor to open his office on a Saturday so he could get this visit over with.

Once Caleb had forced his hand, he’d seen not just Doc Mullins, but several specialists. They’d all come to the same conclusion. Hearing it over and over had become tiresome, but he’d kept holding out hope that someone would offer a different diagnosis. Now, with his old friend once again repeating it, he could no longer ignore the truth.

“You’ve forgotten enough things that it brought you here to see me,” Doc Mullins reminded him. “All those big shots you asked for second opinions agree. You can’t hide from this, Max. It won’t do you a bit of good.”

“How long have I got?”

“Before you die? Years probably. The Alzheimer’s won’t kill you, not by itself. And overall you’re in good health for a man of sixty-six.”

“No, not till I die,” Max said impatiently. “Before my mind goes completely?”

“There’s no telling,” Doc Mullins said. “There are a lot of new drugs on the market that are helping people retain their memory longer, and there’s more research being done all the time.”

“I imagine that’s what they told people ten years ago, too,” Max said. “How many of them are still alert enough to hold out hope for a cure?”

“Sarcasm’s not going to help you.”

“Doesn’t seem to me like there’s much that will,” Max retorted.

“So…what? You going to lie down and wait to die?”

Max stared into his old friend’s eyes. He wondered how long it would be before he didn’t recognize him. “You know me better than that, Doc. I’d have gone on in blissful ignorance, if I could have, but certain people were against that. Now that I do know, I’ll go down fighting. You write those prescriptions for me and I’ll write you a check for the best, most promising research team out there. You tell me where to send it.”

“That’s more like it,” Doc said approvingly. He took off his glasses and set them down carefully before meeting Max’s gaze. “You going to tell Amanda?”

Max felt himself shrink at the question. “No,” he said softly.

Doc regarded him with undisguised impatience. “Why the hell not, Max? She’s your daughter. She has a right to know.”

“Maybe so, but I lost the right to turn to her when I kicked her out of my life,” he said sadly. “How can I ask her back into it now?”

“You just do,” Doc said. “That girl idolized you. She’d want to know.”

“Maybe once, not now,” Max said with a finality that finally shut his friend up.

“I hope to hell you know what you’re doing,” Doc muttered as he wrote out his prescription.

“Some would say I’m living with the consequences of my actions,” Max said wearily.

Doc scowled at him. “And some would say you’re nothing but a damn fool.”

Wouldn’t be the first time someone had called him that, Max admitted. Himself included.

Caleb was alarmed by what he found when he went to see Max on Sunday evening. The house was spotless, as usual, thanks to his diligent housekeeper, but Max looked as if he hadn’t bathed or changed his clothes in days.

“What’s going on?” Caleb demanded. “Are you sick?”

“That’s what they tell me,” Max said dully.

“So you finally went to see the doctor,” Caleb concluded, knowing at once that the news hadn’t been good.

“Saw a bunch of them,” Max admitted. “They all said the same thing—just what you and I anticipated.”

“Alzheimer’s,” Caleb said, his heart aching at the thought of what lay ahead for this man he’d come to admire, even when he disagreed with some of the choices he’d made. Soon enough the sharp wit would dull and he’d retreat into the past.

Max regarded him wearily. “I never thought I’d go this way. I always thought I’d drop dead of a heart attack or get cancer like my daddy did. That was bad enough, but this seems a thousand times worse.”