We Interrupt This Date (31 page)

“Who else? Would you please call off your dogs?”

“Certainly. I wouldn’t dream of letting them cause
trouble, especially not in someone else’s home. Babies, babies,
come to Mama.”

Poof. They were gone, thundering across the wood
floor like two miniature buffalo and back into the family room to
make a fuss over Mama.

I rubbed a sore spot on my ankle where Tiny had
nipped me. Then I debated. Make myself a soothing cup of herbal
tea? Or head upstairs and collapse into bed with the blankets over
my head?

I finally opted for the tea. Not wanting to be rude,
I offered Mama a cup. I expected her to refuse and make a remark
about how she wouldn’t want to put me out. No indeed, not after I’d
made my feelings about her and the rest of the family clear and she
would not be a burden, she’d see herself in the grave first, and
she was moving out first thing in the morning, and she would never
again speak to me. And I was dying inside because she was my mama
and I did not want to lose her love.

“Thank you, Susan. I’d enjoy a cup of tea. Chamomile,
if you have it.”

My eyebrows arched. Mama was probably waiting until
morning to let me know how she felt and deliver her lecture to put
me in my place.

“I’d like some, too. Peppermint if it’s not too much
trouble.” DeLorean had slipped quietly downstairs and now she stood
in the foyer rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her hair was tousled
and her feet were bare and she looked for all the world like she
had at age seven when she’d wait for me to come home from a date
and read her a story.

I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “Of course it’s
no trouble. I’m putting the kettle on right now.”

All this politeness was killing me, but at least my
temper tantrum hadn’t cost me two of the most important people in
my life. I busied myself with the tea, grateful that Brad had
finally figured out I belonged here and stopped trying to wake the
dead.

I’d originally planned to take my tea up to my room,
but now that Mama and DeLorean had awakened, I carried the tray in
and set it on the coffee table in front of Mama. I joined her on
the couch and DeLorean sat on my other side.

We each fixed our own tea the way we liked it—mine
with a dab of artificial sweetener, DeLorean’s peppermint with
sugar, and Mama’s plain chamomile with no additives. Much tinkling
of spoons against cups and exclamations of how it was so soothing
to drink tea. Way too much throat clearing and even a few remarks
about the lovely weather.

I was ready to scream. Finally I couldn’t stand the
fake pleasantries or the suspense for one more second. “Okay,” I
said, “I have something to say.” I put down my tea and watched
tendrils of steam curling out of the cup as I tried to formulate my
thoughts.

DeLorean and Mama exchanged looks of apprehension. I
hurried to reassure them.

“First of all, I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry
for the way I said it and I’m sorry I aired family problems in
front of Jack. I’ll call Christian tomorrow and tell him the same
thing. I’m not backing down, though. From now on, if either of you
have a real emergency, call me. But if you want me to drop
everything to run errands or handle problems you could take care of
on your own, don’t bother. And I hope you understand, I am not the
only one in the wrong.” Please, God, let them understand. I’d
grown; I’d changed. Was it my fault it had taken me years to figure
out my life?

Mama pursed her lips and put her cup down as
delicately as if it were made of spun sugar. “Susan, dear, if you
had issues with DeLorean—and even with me—you should have spoken up
sooner. After all, we are not mind readers. We cannot modify our
behavior unless we know we are causing a problem.”

“Mama’s right.” DeLorean gazed at me steadily. “We
had a long talk after you roared down the street in Mama’s Cadillac
like you were driving the pace car for a NASCAR race. Really,
Susan, I don’t understand why you were angry with us. You always
jumped right in and took responsibility whether we asked you to or
not. After a while, we started expecting you to handle everything.
Why wouldn’t we? You always did such a great job. And it was easier
to just let you, even if we sometimes had to listen to you
complain.”

I exercised my jaw for a few seconds, opening and
closing it like a demented guppy before I reluctantly said, “I
guess that’s fair.”

“I suppose the lesson to be learned is that you train
people how to treat you.” Mama nodded a half dozen times to
emphasize her words.

“You sound like a self-help book, Mama. So what you
two are saying is I chose my own adventures and I have to change my
ways or stop bitching.”

DeLorean grinned. “Hey, big sister, I love you. From
now on things will be different. I promise I will be a lot more
understanding and a lot more responsible.” She leaned closer and
hugged me, almost upsetting my teacup.

Mama moved in on my other side to join us for a group
hug, which quickly went from sappy to awkward since none of us
seemed to know quite how to end it or what to say or do next. How
could we? We’d never had any practice actually relating to each
other as adults. Now that I thought about it, the three of us had
wasted years arguing and criticizing each other.

DeLorean saved the moment by saying, “One for all and
all for one. What are we now—the three musketeers?”

“I don’t know about musketeers, dear.” Mama made a
face. “I believe musketeers are rowdy men with weapons. The three
tea partiers, perhaps.”

We laughed and pulled apart, which confused the
Chihuahuas. They obviously didn’t know whether to run in circles or
huddle in Mama’s lap.

Brad barked and DeLorean went to silence him before
he woke Cole. Very responsible of her.

When she returned, she said, “You’re right about
Brad, Susan. I don’t have time or money for a dog. Do you think
that boy Kenny would like to have him?”

“I’m sure he would.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. And I’m going to see about
getting a substitute teacher job. Susan—I really am sorry. I didn’t
realize you were forced to work at that pawnshop. I thought T.
Chandler gave you a ton of money in the divorce settlement and
you’ve always been so generous, I was sure you wouldn’t mind
sharing. Mama told me the truth and now I feel like a jerk.”

“Not your fault. I could have told you how things are
instead of pretending my life was one big story of success and
wealth.”

“Well, now I know and I promise I won’t be a
financial burden. A substitute teaching job will do until I figure
out my next move. Mama’s agreed to help out with babysitting and
transportation.”

“Guess we all have our calls to make tomorrow.” Mama
put her empty cup on the table. “I’ve made a decision, too, girls.
I’m going to tell Rhett the truth. Afterward if he still wants to
marry me, I’m going to accept. I hope you’ll wish me
happiness.”

Group hug again. But at this point the Marsh women
had had all the love and tenderness we could handle for one evening
and we broke apart after a second, grinning self-consciously at
each other.

DeLorean excitedly started offering suggestions for
Mama’s wedding and reception. Mama said DeLorean had no experience
planning weddings and she’d handle her own arrangements—if DeLorean
didn’t mind.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t naïve enough to expect the
night’s cooperative mood to last. Though our kiss and make up
session had led to a new understanding, we were still human and we
were still three stubborn women who had differences that would lead
inevitably to disagreements. But that was the way real families
were supposed to be. I hoped we could be a little more considerate
of each other in the future.

As predicted, next morning when my alarm went off, I
regretted my late night. Even half a pot of coffee didn’t give me
the usual burst of adrenaline. I walked into the office an hour
later whining out loud about my puffy eyes and my head that felt
equally puffy. There was no one around to hear me. I made another
pot of coffee and switched on my computer so I could stare at the
blank screen.

I was supposed to be setting up advertising and
calling the mechanic about my van so I wouldn’t have to keep
borrowing Mama’s Cadillac. Or at the very least, getting my
brochure off to the printers.

Soon. Soon I would decide how I would start my
workday.

The workmen arrived and tromped upstairs carrying
cans of paint. More screen staring on my part. Inspiration did not
strike. The screen saver came on and I studied the colorful swirls.
I wondered if it would help if I actually spoke to the computer and
asked its opinion.

The phone rang and I finally got to talk to a live
person. The car mechanic had gotten my work number from DeLorean.
My tires were old and not repairable. He quoted me a price for four
new ones. I winced and agreed. I trudged across the room to get a
cup of coffee, which I promptly dropped on the floor, splashing
coffee across my feet and shattering the cup while I was at it.

The day deteriorated further when I glanced out the
window and saw Jack pulling into the parking lot. What was he doing
here? He was supposed to be in Ashley on a new job, Veronica should
have told me he’d be here, and I did not have one single idea why
nothing had gone my way from the moment I’d crawled out of bed.
This day was supposed to be a bright new beginning.

I cleaned up the coffee mess and then squinted to
survey my surroundings. There had to be a dark hole I could crawl
into until Jack left. I knew Veronica was right and that I owed him
an apology. But I hadn’t made her any promises about exactly when
said apology would cross my lips.

I gave up on the search for a hiding place and stood
listening by the door, hoping he wouldn’t come into my office. To
my relief, I heard him go upstairs and then I heard him telling
someone the lock on the attic door needed to be repaired or
replaced. A few minutes later his footsteps sounded on the stairs
and then crossed the foyer. He was leaving.

I sighed. Best to get this over with. There was no
telling when he’d return—if ever. The Blackthorn House was nearly
finished, so prepared or not, I owed him more than a phone call. I
hurried out of my office and into the hall while I was still firmly
resolved to admit I’d been a fool.

“Jack, wait.”

He had his hand on the doorknob. He wasn’t all that
happy to see me, if the lack of a friendly greeting and the
tightening of muscles around his eyes were any indication.

“Could I talk to you for a second?”

“What is it?” His hand stayed on the doorknob.

I would have preferred a private chat in my office,
but the foyer would do. Deep breath, get it done fast like pulling
wax off the bikini area.

“I want to apologize for jumping to conclusions about
you and Veronica. I mean, it’s okay if you want to go out.” Oh,
God, that hadn’t sounded right. And the deep breath hadn’t been
that deep, so I had to take another one. “I certainly don’t have
any hold on you. But Veronica’s my best friend and you two
shouldn’t--” Still not right. Not to mention, I’d developed a bad
case of the blushes. “Anyway, Veronica told me you two aren’t
seeing each other, so I guess it doesn’t matter what I say and I
sound like an idiot anyway.”

Damn it, why didn’t he react? Why was he standing
there looking like an annoyed department store mannequin instead of
saying, “apology accepted” and then disappearing the way I’d
scripted in my mind?

“Another thing,” I added, moving on to safer
territory, “I shouldn’t have had a fit last night after you rescued
Patty and me. Not in front of you, anyway. I told my family when I
got back that I meant every word. You were right when you said they
could take care of their own problems--most of the time, anyway. I
didn’t pay attention to the difference between helping and taking
over. And even worse, half the time I was sorting things out for
them, I was bitching over the inconvenience. I didn’t see it at the
time, but I do now. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a card
carrying member of late bloomers of America, but the good news is,
I’ve finally bloomed. Though it has taken me years to actually
realize what a mess I’ve made of so many things. I’m sorry I fought
with you and, oh God, I’m rambling.” I clamped my mouth shut. Oh,
great, I’d finally taken the time to think about my life and then
I’d had a sort of diarrhea of the mind in front of Jack. Very good,
Susan, very ladylike.

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry, too.” With a final nod
in my direction, he strode out the door.

I blinked. What was Jack apologizing for? Was he
sorry he’d ever come back into my life? Sorry I’d gotten angry with
Mama and DeLorean in front of him? Sorry he didn’t understand about
my loyalty to my family? Did it matter at this point? Who did he
think he was anyway, brushing off my apologies as if I meant
nothing to him?

Well, I’d done what I’d promised and now I was
finished. I’d told Jack I was sorry and I was going to forget him
and go back to work. The new me got another cup of coffee and
plunked myself down in front of my computer. Except, if this was
the new me, it sure felt an awful lot like the old me. Tears slid
down my face and I was glad I’d been able to hold them back until
Jack left. I did not want him to see me cry. That would have made
me even more angry than I already was.

A few mental pep talks and a couple of stern warnings
later, I got myself back on track—sort of. Considering how my
thoughts wandered, it was surprising my computer didn’t send me a
stern reminder to stay on task and stop banging on the backspace
key. But by the end of the day I’d gotten out all the press
releases and placed the advertisements.