Lowcountry Summer (24 page)

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Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Lowcountry Summer
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What was the matter with me? I was completely startled. And I nearly snorted in laughter. Ultimately, I was very grateful for the interruption. It would have been very unseemly for me to experience an operatic moment during this auspicious occasion, but, God in His heaven and all His beloved saints, I was this close to hitting the high notes of my aria. What a dangerous imagination I have! Naughty, naughty auntie! Poor Chloe! The child probably thought I was going into seizures.

“Are you sure, Aunt Caroline? Your face is all red.”

“I’m fine, honey. It’s just a little warm in here.”

“Sure is. Momma used to say it’s hotter than the hinges on the back door of hell.”

Before I could correct her for speaking of her mother in the past tense or for repeating such an undignified thing in public, they called out Belle’s name.

Isabelle Wimbley!

Praise everything holy for the arrival of the
W
s! Trip, Rusty, Eric, Amelia, and Linnie all whooped like raging lunatics. I clapped my hands politely, as I was still composing myself. And giggling to myself. Chloe looked up at me as if she couldn’t decide whether to whoop or clap, and unable to make up her mind, she simply jumped up and down in her place for a few moments, which I have to say was perfectly adorable for a little girl to do. Even Chloe, who had red hair like a wolf. Poor thing.

Soon after I had regained my composure and Belle’s official graduation had taken place, a crackling recording of “Pomp and Circumstance” poured forth from the speakers and all the graduates filed out. The spectators followed, happy as larks to be liberated from that nasty hellhole of a gym. I would surely have the sulfuric fumes of dirty sneakers coating the back of my throat for a month. Honestly, someone should notify the county health department.

As we were crossing the parking lot I saw a woman and a man getting into a taxicab from Columbia, a sight rarely seen in this neck of the woods. I would have sworn the woman was Frances Mae wearing large sunglasses. If it was her, she was leaving, which made no sense to me. Maybe it wasn’t her. I wondered if anyone else had noticed, but it didn’t seem like they had. The parents and kids were too busy taking pictures of themselves to even wonder what a cab from Columbia was doing there.

“What?” Trip said, seeing the quizzical expression on my face.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “I just thought I saw someone, that’s all.”

“Oh. Hey! There’s our girl now! Hey, Miss Graduate!” Trip called.

Belle was completely animated, hugging lots of different girls, presumably her friends, who were just as ebullient, yelling “woo- hoo!” And “yes, we did it!” Their gowns were unzipped and billowing around them in the warm breeze, revealing the clothes they’d chosen for the occasion. Most of the girls were wearing sundresses like Belle’s and they all seemed so innocent to me. Young and innocent. Surely I had been that way once. They were smiling and talking a million miles a minute, posing for pictures with each other. They were calling out loudly that they would see each other back at our house in a little while. It seemed to me that the entire class planned to attend and it looked like our Belle was enjoying an unusual moment of popularity. I was doubly glad that the family was giving her a barbecue even if she was a skunk most of the time.

I was in the car with Eric and Amelia. All the others were driving home with Trip and Rusty. On the way back I just listened to my two and enjoyed the easy conversation between them.

“So now Belle’s coming to Columbia like Sherman,” Eric said.

“Let’s hope not. I just hope she grows up a little before August,” Amelia replied.

“So it’s decided, then?” I asked.

“Yep. God, she was such a little bitch this morning.”

“Language!” I said. “It was just nerves, hon.”

“Yeah, probably. But you’d better tell her,” Eric said. “College is no walk in the park, whatever that means.”

“She’ll find out on her own. No worries about that. I wonder what Dad got her?”

“I don’t know. Hey, Mom? What did Uncle Trip get for Belle?”

An uncomfortable lump of panic presented itself in my throat. Unless Rusty had bought her something, the answer was probably nothing.

“Darlin’? I couldn’t guess. But isn’t a party like this enough?”

Silence.

And then, “Did we get her something?”

“Of course we did!” No, we didn’t. “And, I’m sure Trip has something very special for her.”

“Like what?” Amelia said.

“Well now, even if I knew I couldn’t tell you, could I? Let’s just let her be surprised. Don’t you think?”

“Mom and Dad bought me diamond-stud earrings. Dad probably got the same thing for her.”

“Whatever. Hey, do you mind if I play some music?” Eric had already plugged in his iPod. “It’s Jimmy Buffett, Mom. Just for you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

The subject was changed, but I knew there was going to be a sinkhole in the day if I didn’t produce a gift for Belle. How stupid of me! I felt a flush of guilt that I had not dealt with the issue. The truth was I had thought of it but had resisted going to Crogan’s and shelling out the money for something beautiful for her because she was so freaking unpleasant to me. I thought I was standing on higher moral ground. Now I realized that all I was really doing was fanning the flames of her rebellion by not putting her insufferable attitude aside and rewarding her with a gift. Crap. (The usage of
crap
is different and permissible when thrown around silently in my head. I would never say it aloud, except in front of a few people, and only on occasion.) Okay. Fine. My Buddha Within would dig around in my jewelry drawer and see what I could find.

I turned right on Parker’s Ferry Road and drove to the dead end and the gate for Tall Pines. Millie or Mr. Jenkins or both of them had attached big bouquets of blue and silver balloons to the gate. Balloons again. They reminded me of Mother and I smiled a melancholy smile.

“Well, if anyone misses the entrance they must be as blind as a bat,” I said. “Do y’all want me to drop you off at Trip’s?”

“May as well,” Amelia said. “My car’s there.”

“Yeah. And Rusty could probably use a hand,” Eric added.

Our wrought-iron gates always startled me with their originality. I used my remote and opened them. I never did discover who had made them, but whoever it was, was an artist. Wild turkeys and ducks decorated their borders and clusters of pine trees stood in the center of each one. When I was a girl the gates were embarrassing to me. Of all the things in my screwed-up life to be embarrassed about, why I chose the gates is anyone’s guess, but there you have it.

The road up to our house from Parker’s Ferry was a long and slow one because of the potholes in the packed dirt. It was time to repair it again. Along the way I passed under the umbrella of ancient live oaks that dripped with long sheets of Spanish moss. When I was little I used to run around with long pieces of it on my head, pretending to have Rapunzel’s hair. Of course this gave me a head filled with chiggers. Millie would wash my scalp with kerosene to kill them while Mother reclined on her chaise, alternating between sipping straight bourbon and swearing a swoon was coming, too grossed out to even look at me. I would be made to take an oath on the family Bibles to never do it again, and of course, the very next week the chiggers would mysteriously reappear at bath time. That was my idea of a wild time. Boy, have things changed.

Years ago my daddy put in some duck ponds on the sides of the road, and the cypress trees he planted were now grown and had turned the water brackish, like black tea. Mother had supervised the planting of stands of palmettos, pampas grass, fuchsia azaleas, and white camellias and let them grow wild until it looked like Mother Nature was the gardener of our naturalized plantings. It was more spectacular than ever.

I pulled around to Rusty and Trip’s house and Eric and Amelia got out of the car, slamming the doors. They must have seen me flinch at the noise.

“Sorry!” they said, and laughed.

I lowered my window.

“It’s okay. I’m going to change clothes, you know, check on things, and I’ll see y’all in a little bit,” I said. “Tell Rusty if she needs anything to give me a shout, okay?”

“Will do!”

As soon as I pulled away, I dialed Rusty’s cell.

“Hey, it’s me. Where are you?”

“Just pulling into our road.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t say anything, but did you and Trip get something for Belle?”

“Of course! Didn’t anyone notice the diamond studs in her ears?”

“No! Wonderful! Okay, I’m almost at my house. If you need anything, call me.”

My car rolled to a stop, and I got out, crossed the yard, and opened the kitchen door. Before I could think of a thing, I was overwhelmed by the smell of the roses I had cut the day before. I went immediately through the kitchen to the dining room and on to the living room, half expecting their numbers to have tripled. But that was not the case. Everything was exactly as it had been when I left home in the morning. The fragrance had basically traveled from room to room as though I had sprayed the whole house with flowers. I wondered if the intensity of the fragrance was a sign. Was my Miss Lavinia saying hello? I wished it were so.

“Your rotten granddaughter graduated from high school this morning! You’d think she graduated from Harvard, the way she acted,” I called out to the ethers as I climbed the stairs. “You sure didn’t miss much!”

I began to rummage around my jewelry drawer. I could have easily put some cash or a check in an envelope, but that seemed too impersonal. If this had been a big party in New York, like a wedding or a Bar Mitzvah, there would have been a decorated box with a slit for envelopes sitting on a table. But down in the Lowcountry we were expected to show our affection for the honoree with something thoughtful and tangible. What did I have that was suitable for a girl her age? Not much.

I looked through all the little boxes and velvet sacks that held a lifetime of collections. Clunky earrings—no good. Ropes of cheap fake pearls à la Chanel—I wouldn’t be caught dead in them now, so neither would she. Diamond tennis bracelet—yeah, sure, I was gonna give this child diamonds? I didn’t think so. Finally, I came upon a silver Elsa Peretti heart on a chain from Tiffany. Elsa was unfortunately no relation to Rusty. Perfect. In the bottom of the blue suede bag were earrings to match. I couldn’t remember when I got them, and I thought, well, actually, that’s a good thing because then at least I’m not going to give up some treasure with all sorts of emotion attached to it. My mother came to mind again as I remembered her giving me a diamond pin in the shape of a bow the day I married Richard. I asked her who it had belonged to and she snapped back something like “How should I know? I bought it on Forty-seventh Street yesterday from a nice man named Corey Friedman.” She had not wanted to waste an heirloom on a marriage of which she did not approve and I did not want to waste anything of personal value on my niece. There was a strain of cynicism in my DNA!

I put them on the dresser, deciding I would give them a wipe with a silver cleaning cloth to polish them up after I changed. I had a gift bag and some tissue in the kitchen I could use to make it look like I had thought of this long ago. Saved by a minor stroke of deceit.

What had I given Amelia? I remembered it had been a watch, now a perfectly useless gift for anyone under thirty in possession of a cell phone as we know. Was it important that the gifts to my nieces were of the same monetary value? Well, I supposed I was going to get the answer to that before the day was out. The Internet had become an easy way to help the busybodies verify almost anything in seconds. I wasn’t about to fret over that either.

After I changed into black linen slacks and a crisp white shirt with
the pearls
, which was all very casual but still elegant, I went to my office for some stationery to write Belle a congratulatory note.

Dear Isabelle,
These earrings and necklace were given to me by my mother, your grandmother, on the occasion of my high school graduation from Ashley Hall so many years ago. I know she is with us today in spirit and that if she could, she would tell you how proud she is of you, as we all are. Take care of these little treasures, darling girl, and take care of yourself, too. We wish you every good thing that life has to offer! Congratulations!
With lots of love,
Aunt Caroline and Eric

I looked at the lies on the page and said out loud, “I’m going straight to hell.”

Soon my golf cart was rolling across our property toward Trip’s place with Belle’s gift on the seat next to me. I was feeling pretty good about the world. I was glad that Belle’s graduation had gone smoothly and even more relieved that it had ended without me tripping the light fantastic in front of everyone. I wondered again if that had been Frances Mae in the parking lot. Well, it didn’t matter really. If she was coming home, she’d appear at some point, and if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t. Our clan had dealt with bigger and messier surprises. But she wasn’t due back for two weeks. Yikes. In two weeks I’d have to hear her voice and look at her ugly face.

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