Plantation (37 page)

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were knee-walking dead drunk. So much for my newfound religious persuasion.

Millie found us on the docks, throwing rocks in the river, pretending to be throwing them at Mother. We never even heard her coming.

“Yanh! Take this, you old bitch! This is for not tucking me in the night my daddy died!” Trip said, throwing the stone across the water with a furious windup.

“Yanh! Stuff this up your butt, you damn bitch! This is for ignoring us!”

“Yanh! You suck! I wish you had blown up instead!”

“That’s enough!”
The voice of Millie shook us so hard we nearly fell in the water.
“You stop this fool! Right now!”

“Shit,” Trip said. I could see him listing and worried then that if Millie knew we were drunk, she’d be even madder. I reached over and steadied him.

“Just burning offa liddle stream,” I said, twisting my words.

“Is that a fact? How much you children had to drink?”

“Us? Drink? Millie, how could you accuse us of something like that?” I thought I sounded better then.

She looked at me and I knew she didn’t believe us for a minute.

“Okay, you two,” she said, “I gone turn my head this time. Go on up to my cottage and sleep it off. I come to see about you later, yanh? Now, move it!”

Move it, we did. As fast as we could. We only stopped once for Trip to water the bushes. When we got there, Trip fell onto the couch and I fell into Millie’s bed, both of us sleeping through the night.

The next morning, I woke up under Millie’s covers. She wasn’t there. Trip was still on the couch, sacked out. Mother hadn’t come for us. Big surprise. I went outside to see what the day was like. It wasn’t even eight o’clock and it was already steaming. I 2 9 4

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k heard a truck and thought it was probably someone picking up stuff from yesterday. To my surprise, it was a pickup truck with a horse trailer. I watched as Mr. Jenkins shook hands with the driver and as they led the beautiful gelding down the ramp to the ground.

In the middle of all this hell, someone had seen about Trip’s birthday. Tears of happiness and relief, tears I didn’t think I had left, ran down my face. Somebody cared.

Twenty-nine

Rescue Me

}

2000

OW could I return to Tall Pines and not be reminded why I had moved away from there in Hthe first place? I had left because there was no one who wanted me to stay. Like a mother bird, Miss Lavinia had all but pushed us from our nest. I had never looked back. And, each time I came home over the years to visit, I came with a chip on my shoulder for Mother and a longing in my heart for my daddy.

Trip had barely ever looked ahead. With only marginal planning, he had arranged his life to paint himself into corners. Rau-cous children, a crazy wife to justify his drinking, the lure of hunting and fishing, the beckoning call of the river sirens and all of the ACE herself. No, he was addicted to the lifestyle and it was patently clear he wanted Tall Pines for himself and his swelling brood. It would have been fine with me for Trip to have it. I had never given it a second thought, assuming all along that when 2 9 6

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k Mother went to that big Special Event in the Sky, Trip would inherit the whole shebang.

What bothered me was his unbelievable sense of self-serving timing. Who in the world was he kidding? Did he really think that Mother would move out so that he and his family could move in?

Mother sit in the Presbyterian Home in Summerville or somewhere else while Frances Mae ran her house? Talk about delusional!

Well, Mother had set him and Frances Mae straight. At least temporarily.

I looked toward the barn, remembering Trip’s horse, Jimbo. I thought of the endless afternoons Trip and I had spent together, racing Jimbo and Ginger across fields without a care in the world.

Eric was entitled to at least that much—to have a portion of his childhood pass without a care in the world.

The sun was low in the sky and our first night at Tall Pines wasn’t far away. I turned to go back to the house and Millie was standing on the back porch, watching me. I had not seen or even heard her cross the lawn. It felt so good to be in her eyes. I knew they were just blinking away and with every blink she would add something to a list of what she meant to do for me or for Eric to help us get settled.

“Hey, Millie! What’s up?”

“Miss L gone be back directly. Thought it might be nice to talk to you a little bit before the house is crawling with people again.”

I stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked at her. She smiled back at me.

“I don’t have to tell you a thing, do I? You already know!”

“That’s right, girl. Get in this house and let me show you what I did for you and my boy.”

She held the door open and followed me in.

“So strange to be here like this, Millie, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, but it ain’t really so strange at all. It’s where you belong and high time you came home too!” She stopped at the refrigerator and opened it, taking out a platter. “Fudge?”

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“Oh, my word, Millie!” Millie made fudge that could tempt Richard Simmons to binge! “You’re gonna ruin me!” I took a huge piece and put the entire thing in my mouth, licking my fingers.

“I ain’t gonna ruin you; I’m gonna save you!” She laughed wide and put the fudge away. “Follow me.”

Upstairs, Millie had unpacked all my things in my old room and all of Eric’s in Trip’s old room next door. As my eyes passed over the placement of our belongings, it looked like we had been there all along. I opened the closet door in my bedroom, trying to figure out what to change into for dinner.

“Millie, I can’t thank you enough for doing this!”

“I’ve been waiting to unpack y’all’s bags since the day that boy came into this world!”

“You always knew, didn’t you?”

She smiled, looked at the floor and then hard at my face. “Why don’t you get a bath and lie down for a little bit. You look tired.”

I looked at the bathrobe on the hanger I had unconsciously chosen for dinner clothes. “You know, Millie? I believe I will. I am beyond tired.”

“I put a CD player in the bathroom for you, because I suspect you like to have some music while you dress. You go on get your bath, I’ll be right back.”

The bathtub was filled with steaming water and floating gardenias. They smelled divine and I felt like taking a bath with gardenias was extremely decadent. Without a single warning, Richard flashed across my mind. Hell, I thought, I could bathe with an entire gardenia bush and not be decadent next to
him!
I undressed, hung my clothes on the empty hangers on the back of the door, and slipped on the robe. I flipped on the boom box and found she had loaded an old Joe Sample classic CD. I tested the water with my hand and it was the perfect temperature for a good soak.

Between Joe Sample and the perfume of the gardenias, I nearly fell asleep in the tub. But, I pulled my tired self out, drained the water, and dried off. I went into my bedroom as Millie was leaving, 2 9 8

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k closing the door. She had opened the French doors, but turned the louvered shutters up to keep out the afternoon sun. On my bedside table stood a small Limoges pot of tea and a warm slice of banana bread. I poured with the full knowledge that the tea was laced with one of Millie’s specialties and drank it straight to the bottom. The Sorceress had turned down my bed, rolling back the plissé blanket cover to reveal Mother’s finest crisp white Irish linens, the ones she saved in case Margaret Thatcher stopped by. The pillow slips had been edged in a fine crochet of airy scallops years ago by my grandmother. It was no coincidence that Millie had prepared so carefully for Eric and me. No, I was on quicksand.

As I made myself comfortable under the covers, I remembered that I had wanted to ask if Trip and Frances Mae were coming for dinner. Oh, well. I was so sleepy and it didn’t matter anyway.

Frances Mae would just have to get used to us.

It was the breath of Eric that began to bring me from the depth of my sleep. I knew and loved his breath the way a lioness does her cubs. I didn’t want to open my eyes. Apparently he was unsure of waking me. I could feel his presence next to me, the way his body took up space in the room. Then I could sense him leaving. Good, I thought, let me rest just a few more minutes. Good.

Eric was safely home.

Even with closed eyes, I could sense the day slipping away by the cool fingers of the breeze. Friday? Yes, it was still Friday. Okay, I had a couple of days to figure things out. First, Eric’s school. Miss Nancy was right. I should ask around about a tutor. Maybe I’d call Matthew-baby-hottie-in-a-uniform and see if he knew someone.

Old Frances Mae might know someone from the Walterboro school system. A good icebreaker. I’d try to get along with her. I would.

Bam! Bam!
I must’ve drifted off to sleep again because I was awakened by the distinct slamming of a car door and then another.

“Mom! Mom!” Eric began calling for me. Before I had a chance to get up, he opened the bedroom door. “Mom! Uncle Trip P l a n t a t i o n

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wants to take me down the river to check the crab traps! Can I go?

Can I please? Please?”

“Of course you can go. Where’s your jacket? Come yanh and give your old mother a kiss!”

He leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on my cheek. “On the front stairs. You’re the best, Mom! You shoulda seen Uncle Trip in the courtroom! He’s like Johnnie Cochran or something! He was like,
Sir, do you want to think that answer through? Sir, may I remind
you that you are under oath?
Amazing! Totally amazing!” He pulled off his tie and the rest of his shirttail flew out of his khakis.

“When did you get home?” I leaned up on my elbow when I remembered that I had smelled him earlier.

“This guy was totally sweating! Uncle Trip was like,
Take that,
you dog!”
He began to imitate someone in a duel, fencing and lung-ing across the room.

“Eric?”

He stopped and replaced his imaginary sword in its sheath.

“Just this second!” he said, finally answering my question.

“You heard me, yelling for you?” I must’ve looked at him in a strange way. “What? What’s the matter?”

My brother’s voice called out for him. “Eric? Eric? Come on, bubba, let’s shake a leg!” He opened the door to my room and stuck his head in. Eric’s navy blazer hung on the end of his index finger. “You leave your clothes lying around and your grandmother will beat the tar outta you! You coming with me, or what?” Then he looked at me in the bed. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“I’m having a nap,” I said. “Ladies do that, you know.”

“Jesus, you sound like Miss Lavinia!” He winked at Eric.

“How’d you like a black eye, buster?” I said and threw back the covers. “Wise guy. I’m stressed out. When I’m stressed out, I sleep.”

“Well, you’d better get over it. Frances Mae and the girls will be yanh at six.”

“Listen, Trip. I’ve taken an oath to be nice and try to get along 3 0 0

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k with her.” I stopped at the dresser and looked in the mirror. I looked like hell.

“Mom? You don’t get along with Aunt Frances Mae?”

“We get along just fine, son, just fine.” I smiled at Trip and ruffled Eric’s hair. “Now you go change and have some fun. Just be home by dark, okay?”

“Okay!” Eric zoomed out of the room and soon another door slammed almost off the hinges. Trip and I cringed.

“I’ll talk to him,” I said. “You know, you could say welcome home, brother dear.” I opened my eyes wide and nodded my head, waiting.

“Welcome home? Welcome to
hell,
sister dear! Yeah, boy!
Welcome to hell!”

He grinned at me and closed the door.

“Thanks a lot!” I said to the door.

Then I remembered again. Someone had been in my room while I slept. Who was it? I could’ve sworn it was Eric. Maybe he was playing a game with me. Boys!

At six Mother, Trip, and I were in the living room having the requisite cocktail and nibbling on peppered cheese biscuits. The phone rang and seconds later Millie burst into the room.

“Trip! It’s Frances Mae on the phone! She’s pulled over to the side of the highway five miles up the road and that baby’s coming!

Hurry!”

“Merciful Mother of God!” Mother said.

Trip ran from the room, holding his bourbon in the air as though that would keep it from splashing, which it did not and he soaked the sleeve of his signature blue oxford cloth shirt. Mother and I followed him to the hall phone, where we stood with him and Millie trying to listen in on their conversation.

“Goddamnit, Frances Mae! Where are you? Tell me exactly where you are!”

“I hope to God my grandchild’s not born in a ditch,” Mother said, in a low voice.

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I couldn’t help thinking about Frances Mae, on the shoulder of Highway 17 south, hanging on to the car door, squatting and pushing, simultaneously mediating the bickering between her three girls, who were all strapped in their seat belts. The problem was that I remembered that Frances Mae was only in her eighth month.

She had a history of delivering late, not early. Worry reared its ugly head as I remembered her fall into the Edisto and I hoped it hadn’t caused this.

“Just calm down!” Pause. “Damnit, Frances Mae! Calm the hell down!” Pause. “Okay! Okay!
Okay! I hear you! I’m coming!
” Trip slammed the phone down into its receiver and began rummaging around in his pockets for his car keys. “Mother? Call the police in Jacksonboro. Tell them to send an ambulance to the side of the road to Walterboro about ten miles from the Hess station. I’ll be back.”

“Hold on a minute, boy! I’m coming with you!” Millie said.

“Me too!” I said.

“Me three!” Eric said.

“You stay with your grandmother!” I said.

“Mom! Come on! I don’t want to miss this!”

“Yes, you do,” Mother said, and swung the front door wide open. I followed Trip outside and heard Mother say, “Well, I guess dinner will be later than expected.” Trip was in his Range Rover and starting the engine. I all but jumped into the front seat.