Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1 (62 page)

hanging on. I was relieved not to have him full-time to con-

tend with. And speaking of money, by the grace of God, I was

appointed as interim director of the library. The board planned

to conduct the requisite search, but the board chairman and the

search committee had assured me, privately, that they preferred

to give Mitchell Fremont’s job to me. They had cited the old

Gullah maxim, Keep the evil that you know. That wasn’t

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

423

exactly the high praise I wanted to hear, but the raise in salary

compensated for any personal slight I may have felt.

When I got home, Beth was bringing presents to the

kitchen to wrap, having a wonderful time decorating packages

that looked too pretty to open. She had used brown paper,

twine twisted with gold metallic cord, and had sponged on stars

with gold-toned paint.Thank God she has the Maggie gene for

this, I thought.

“God, honey, don’t you hate to give them away?” I said.

“The wrapping is a present all on its own!”

“Yeah, it sort of is, huh? Well, you know, I have like a
reeleey

good feeling about this holiday, I don’t know why. I guess it’s

because I totally love my aunts and uncles and when they’re

here I finally get some girl cousins almost my age to talk to.

Bucky and Mickey drive me up the wall.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt.”

“Whatever. So what did you get Dad for Christmas?”

“What?”

“Are y’all still gonna exchange gifts, or what?”

“Um, I don’t think so.” I popped open a Diet Pepsi and took

a long drink.

“Oh.Well, I think he got you something.”

“Like what? A gift certificate to the root canal doctor? Want

a sip?”

“Nope, no thanks. You’ll see. He’s stopping by in a few

minutes.”

“Like when were you gonna tell me this? I look totally dis-

gusting!” I ran upstairs and brushed my hair, changed my shirt,

put on some cologne. I was just brushing my teeth when he

knocked at the door.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy!”

“Merry Christmas, princess! Where’s your momma?”

“I’ll be right down!” I called and thought, oh great, what if

he wants to come to Maggie’s with us for Christmas Eve?

But as soon as I said hello to him he made his announcement.

424

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

“I can only stay for a few minutes. Karen and I are going to

Myrtle Beach to meet her parents and spend the holiday.”

I saw Beth’s face fall and so I stabbed him on her behalf.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a lot in common with them.

After all, they’re your age and . . .”

“You don’t have to say it, Susan, I get the drift,” he said.

“Look, I didn’t come over here to discuss Karen’s age. I came to

bring you something for Christmas. I know you think I’m a jerk

and that I don’t care about you.This is to let you know that I do

care and how proud I am of you.”

He pointed to an enormous box and a smaller one.

“Gosh, thanks. Are they household appliances? Plugs aren’t

gifts,Tom.”

We had always joked about our friends who would give each

other lawnmowers and blenders and toasters for Christmas and

other important occasions. One sorry fellow we knew had a

chainlink–fenced dog pen installed for his wife’s fortieth birthday

to hold
his
hunting dogs.

Anyway, it was the season of giving and I was caught empty-

handed. Especially, given what he was going through with his

cancer, I probably should’ve bought him something.

“It’s got a plug, but, believe me, it’s a gift. In fact, it’s more

than that. This is for your new side career or whatever you call

it. I thought I’d try to do something to encourage you. You

know, let you know that I really am in your corner.”

“Holy smokes,Tom. I mean, thanks. I really mean that. Gosh.”

I didn’t know what to say. I sat down on the sofa and

opened the smaller box first. It was a notebook computer. I

almost fainted.“Tom! This is so fabulous! Honey, thank you! My

God! Beth, look at this!”

“Daddy! It’s awesome! Can I use it too, Mom?”

“You’re welcome!” he said. “The other box has a color

printer and all the cables and gadgets you need to recharge

batteries and all that technical stuff that gives me a headache.

But I’m sure you’ll figure it out!”

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

425

I ignored Beth’s question and realized that this was the final

kiss from Tom. I no longer had to think about him wanting to

come back. He didn’t want to anymore, but he wanted to be

friends and, given all we had been through, that was a minor

miracle. I’d take it and be graceful about it.

“Daddy, I have something for you. I made it.”

“Oh, princess, I almost forgot.This is for you. It’s a Visa card

for your clothes and whatever you want.You can charge up to

three hundred dollars a month on it and I’ll pay the bill. How’s

that?”

Beth started squealing and screaming. She threw her arms

around Tom and I didn’t blame her. I should do the same,

I thought, these two gifts were unbelievable—one made my

life easier and the other would keep me solvent. When Beth

reached under the tree to search for Tom’s gift, I patted the couch

beside me.

“Come on, sit by me.”

Like a good dog, he sat, obviously pleased with himself, as

he should’ve been.

“Tom, thank you.This was so nice of you. I mean, this will

make a lot of things easier for us and you knew that.Tom, really,

I can’t thank you enough.”

“Susan, you and I have been through the wars together. I

really want to try to make up for some of the colossally stupid

things I’ve done.”

I squeezed his hand and started choking up a little when I

saw Beth’s gift to him. She handed him a large, flat package. It

had more gold and glitter than any of the others she had

wrapped. It was, after all, for her daddy.

“Here, Daddy, this is for you. Merry Christmas,” she said

quietly.

Tom opened it slowly, remarking on the paper and how

artistic she was. He made her laugh by asking her if it was a

sports car or a stereo.We saw it was a scrapbook. She had made

a title card for the front that read the good old days. As we

426

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

turned each page, we saw it was filled with photographs that

chronicled our lives, all of them smiling and happy. Under each

one, she had made a remark on a strip of paper to remind him

what the event was.There was one from her first birthday party,

me holding her, smiling, her face and dress covered in frosting.

The caption read:
You and Momma didn’t even mind that I made

such a mess of things
.

That was just a little too close for comfort. I got confused

and thought that she blamed herself for our divorce as I had

blamed myself for my daddy’s death. But we were the ones who

had made the mess, not her. We were doing our best for her

sake, and, in some way, for ourselves too.

Tom just pointed to the picture and said to her,“Remember

how afraid you were of Big Bird?”

She said, “I remember you picking me up and putting me

on your shoulders.”

“Anybody want something to drink?” No one answered.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

In the kitchen, I poured a glass of water. Get a hold of your-

self, Susan, I told myself, it’s Christmas. People always get emo-

tional during the holidays. You’ve had a tough year. A lot of

changes, but good things too.

This was the relationship I wanted to fight for. This friend-

ship.This relationship of Beth’s with Tom. I could make it better

for them. I realized that money had been one of the things that

caused so much pain over the past months. Now that I would

earn enough to provide a cushion, and now that Tom was

stepping up to help a little more, we didn’t have to fight about

that anymore.

In an odd way, even though we were getting divorced, we

were still a family. Always would be. We had too much shared

history to ever give each other up completely. Somehow, I’d

make Beth see that and understand it. If Tom and I didn’t fight

about anything, she’d have nothing to blame herself for.

I was leaning against the sink, my arms around myself, my

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

427

jaw set square as it does when I’m deep in thought, when Tom

appeared in the doorway.

“I gotta go, Susan. Merry Christmas. Give my best to Maggie

and Grant and the boys, okay?”

“Tom! Of course I will. Hey, thanks again. I really mean it. I

feel like things are working out better, don’t you?”

“Yeah, if we want them to, they will.”

“Well, they have to for Beth’s sake. She loves us both so

much.”

“Susan, we all love each other so much.”

“You feeling okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. The catheter’s out and, well, I’ll see what

the future brings. Susan, well, I’ll call you after the holiday and

we’ll talk.”

“What? Is something wrong?”

“No. I swear. Everything’s fine.A little tired and a lot nause-

ated, that’s all. Now, you and Beth have a fabulous Christmas,

okay? Give my best to Grant and Maggie and their boys.”

“Okay, lover boy, your jail bait is probably wondering where

you are.Tell her I send my greetings and don’t drive like a maniac,

okay? Be careful, you still have us to live for. Now get on outta

here, before I insist on a conjugal visit.”

“God, Susan, you are so great.”

“That’s true,” I said as I opened the door for him. “So are

you. Hey, Tom, thanks, huh? For everything.”

“You’re welcome.You know, you could’ve bought me a bottle

of aftershave.”

“Oh, God, sorry,Tom. I was really insane that day.”

“Well, it was a tough day.” He smiled at me and we took a

long look at each other. He gave me a peck on the cheek and

turned to go. “Merry Christmas, Susan Hayes,” he said over his

shoulder.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,Tom Hayes.”

Standing in the doorway, I watched him pull away in the

twilight. I caught a burst of pine scent from our wreath, and the

428

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

little white lights on our topiaries all came on with the timer. I

wondered if he really was all right and what he had started to

tell me that could wait until after Christmas. I decided not to

dwell on it, thinking that he must be all right or he wouldn’t be

back with Karen. But he didn’t look good.

I t wa s a l m o st Christmas and I couldn’t wait to get to Maggie’s

house, out to the beach, to the Island Gamble, where we all

belonged.

The next morning I cleaned up the kitchen, listening to

the morning news, making a mental list of all we had to cram

in the car to take to the beach.Timmy, Henry and their families

were coming Christmas Day and staying for the whole week.

The twins had sent their regrets again with some sorry-ass

excuse. Beth had run out for a bag of coconut, marshmallows, a

bottle of cherries and two cans of fruit cocktail. She was mak-

ing ambrosia for her little cousins.They’d probably love it.

Now that I was a big-shot columnist and had this flood of

money from my promotion, I decided to march myself into

Berlin’s and see what the chic were buying for the season.This

beautiful and elegant woman, Nancee Rubin, took one look at

me and said, “Want to see the most incredible sweater in the

world?” Now, who could say no to that? She was right.Triple-ply

cashmere, rust-colored, deep V-neck, long-sleeved tunic with slit

sides.Then she pulled out a pair of rust velvet pants, narrow legs,

flat front, side zip. When she held one on top of the other I

knew they had my name all over them.

“You can get suede Gucci loafers in the same color at Bob

Ellis,” she said and laughed, knowing I was going to beg for

“drive-thru” alterations.

They hemmed the pants while I bought the shoes. Gucci?

I must have been losing my mind! Two pieces of clothes and I

felt like a new woman.Wasn’t that ridiculous? Merry Christmas

to me, I said six hundred dollars later.

Finally, the car was packed to the hilt with gifts and our

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

429

clothes for our Island holiday. Beth was taking out the last arm-

load of gifts for my nieces and nephews and I was turning off all

the lights. In the warmth of the Christmas tree’s twinkling

white lights, I took a good look at myself in my momma’s big

mirror. I look good in this color, I thought. I was older, yes, but

still, I looked relieved, rested and happy. I was; that was all true.

My head was in good shape.

Tom going back to Karen hadn’t really bothered me all

that much. I didn’t care who he was with—I just wanted him

to stay alive. No, I was doing just fine, but I wondered what my

brothers would have to say about me helping Tom through his

illness. Oh well, I thought, I could deal with them. It was a

wiser woman who stared back at me, half-smiling, pleased