Waking Up in Dixie (30 page)

No. Howe reviewed every mortgage himself, and he’d never loan money on anything that wasn’t priced right and extremely marketable.

Beyond that, she didn’t let herself second-guess his gift, because experience had taught her, she might not like the answers.

She closed the suitcase on her clothes and realized she didn’t even know what size sheets to bring, so she called the house line from her cell.

Howe picked up on the third ring. “Hi. Don’t tell me you’ve already left.”

“No, I’m upstairs packing. I just needed to know what size sheets to bring.”

“You don’t need to bring anything for the house. It’s fully equipped.” She heard him shift in his seat. “I called the caretaker to tell him you’re coming. His wife’s cleaning and changing the sheets as we speak. She’s also putting breakfast food in the refrigerator, so you won’t need to shop before you get there. The freezer and the pantry are already stocked.”

Sounded pretty extravagant. Maybe the bank had used the place as a perk. “There’s a caretaker?”

“More like a fixit man, really. He works for a lot of the vacation people, but he’s honest and reliable.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Please let me know before you leave,” he said. “I’d like to
say good-bye. And I have a map for you. You can drive it easily in an hour and a half.”

“I’ll come by on my way out,” she told him, wishing the leaving were already behind her, maybe because she’d always been the one left behind, never the one to go. “ ’Bye.”

Elizabeth found a couple of large plastic baskets and rounded up her favorite everyday things, including her pillows and lighted magnifying makeup mirror, then loaded them into her car. A quick tour of the kitchen produced her favorite tomato knife, her battery-powered can opener that crawled around the lid all by itself, and a few of the coffee mugs she liked.

Before she knew it, she was ready to walk out on the life she’d lived for the past twenty-five years. Maybe forever.

It wasn’t easy, but she knew that it was what she needed to do.

She knocked on Howe’s study door. “Howe?”

He came out into the hallway, the map and directions in his hand. Elizabeth’s stomach tightened at the haggard look on his face. “Everything’s packed,” she told him.

Howe handed her the papers. “If anything’s not clear, just call me.” He placed his hands gently on her upper arms as she folded them into her purse. When she looked up, he asked, “May I kiss you good-bye?”

She nodded, a huge lump in her heart.

He kissed her gently at first, then his arms tightened around her, transmitting all his hunger and all his hopes into their embrace.

Maybe it was the fact that she was leaving, but Elizabeth responded without reservation, her own longing matching his
till she forgot everything but what it felt like to want and be wanted.

Till Patti let out a startled, “Daddy! Please. Get a room!”

The two of them shot apart and pivoted to find their daughter and Augusta scowling at them in disapproval.

“Really, Howell,” his mother said. “Show some self-control.”

Elizabeth turned a brief look of regret and sadness his way. “I’ll call you.”

She walked up to Patti and gave her a big hug. “I love you, precious girl. Be nice to your father, and behave yourself.”

Patti wriggled free of her. “Mom! I am not a little girl anymore.”

Elizabeth walked over to Augusta and surprised her with a long hug. “I love you, too, Augusta.” She actually meant it—at least a little. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I knew I could never measure up to what you wanted for Howe. But I’m so grateful Patti has you. Children need unqualified love from somewhere. God knows, I never got any from my family, but I’m so glad she has you.”

Augusta remained as stiff as an armful of coat hangers, at a loss for words.

Elizabeth just kept right on hugging her. “And thanks so much for taking Patti to Europe. I hope y’all have a wonderful time. Don’t let anything take that away from you, no matter what happens.”

She finally let go, to Augusta’s visible relief.

Patti frowned. “Mama, why are you acting so weird? You don’t have cancer or anything, do you?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Elizabeth hitched up her shoulder bag.
“Well, I’m off.” She looked to Howe. “I’ll call to let you know I got there.”

Tears welled in his eyes, but he managed not to cry, which was progress. “Thanks.”

“Where’s she going?” Patti asked her father as Elizabeth turned and headed for the rear door at the end of the hall.

“We’ll talk about that later,” she heard Howe say as she closed the door behind her.

Elizabeth didn’t look back, and she didn’t stop or let herself think till she was on the road and miles beyond Whittington. Then she started to cry. She cried all the way through Cumming, then past the rolling hills and horse farms on Route 372. She didn’t stop till she got to steep, quaint little Ball Ground. Numb, she blew her nose on some fast-food napkins from the glove compartment, then drove the rest of the way on 515, passing the usual mountain mix of raw Appalachian gravel pits, hardscrabble businesses, strip malls, and hyperquaint tourist attractions carved from the steepening terrain at Jasper and Cherry Log.

When she reached Blue Ridge, she pulled over and checked the directions, then turned off the main drag onto the old route that took her past the middle school, then onto progressively narrower roads that led to the final turnoff at Horse Point.

Catching glimpses of Lake Blue Ridge through the trees, she followed the private lane past an assortment of smaller, older houses and huge pseudo-Rockies McMansions. The closer she got to her house, the more curious she was about what she’d find. Near the end of the point, she spotted a single driveway with a small sign
numbered “6969,” matching the address on the directions. Massed white pines and rhododendrons obscured any view of the house.

“This must be the place,” she said aloud.

Lord. She hadn’t been alone for three hours, and she was already talking to herself.

She headed down the driveway for about three hundred feet, where the dense underbrush opened to reveal a beautiful, brown-shingled lakeside cottage with crisp white trim, cuddled by hydrangeas, rhododendron, and mountain laurel. The house was not too small and not too big, with a two-car garage, a big porch facing the lake, and a covered metal dock that sheltered a new-looking ski boat. Picture-perfect.

Elizabeth pulled into the open side of the garage to find a neat array of water sports equipment and yard implements hanging from the walls.

She turned off the ignition, then took out the door key. “Okay. Here we are.” Refuge.

She made a mental note to have the locks changed as soon as possible. It wouldn’t do to have somebody from the bank barge in on her.

She grabbed her purse and suitcase, then unlocked the door that led from the garage to the house. Inside the cottage, polished wood floors and a wall of sliding glass overlooking the lake defined the open floor plan. Subtle colors of nature were reflected in the plush area rugs and simple, masculine leather sofas and chairs.

To her surprise, the place wasn’t musty at all, and clean as a whistle. Elizabeth set down her suitcase, then rummaged for her cell phone and was pleasantly surprised to find she had a
good signal. After pressing speed dial for home, she heard Howe answer. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Perfect. The place is gorgeous.”

He didn’t respond for long seconds, which surprised her. “I . . . it’s . . .” After another weighted pause, he said, “Thanks for letting me know you made it okay. Call if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk. I want to talk to you, Elizabeth. About a lot of things.”

She wasn’t ready for that, not yet, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Thanks. I think I’d just like to spend some time here by myself, first.”

To see if she could do it.

“Okay.” Another pause. “I told the kids and Mama I’d sent you on a spa retreat for a month. I think they bought it. Patti was jealous, but Charles said you deserved it.”

Elizabeth didn’t know if it was a good sign or a bad one that Howe had pulled off his first big lie since the stroke. “Were you able to reach P.J.?”

“Yes.”

The fact that he didn’t elaborate spoke volumes.

“No luck, huh?”

“We’ll see.” Whatever that was supposed to mean.

So much for wanting to talk about things. Awkward silence spread between them. “I guess I’ll go now,” she said.

“Okay.”

“ ’Bye.”

“ ’Bye.” The line clicked dead, and she closed her phone.

Odd, how two people who had lived together for so long could be reduced to such strained monosyllables. Not that Howe
had talked to her about anything that mattered before the stroke, but since he’d woken up, both of them were more aware of it.

Laying her purse on the dark granite countertop, Elizabeth turned her attention back to the house, noting with approval the gas cooktop, double ovens, and French refrigerator in the well-appointed kitchen, and the flat-screen TV above the large stone fireplace.

Could they even get cable up there?

She spotted a remote control on the large ottoman and pointed it toward the TV. When she pressed the button, the gas logs burst into flame, making her laugh.

Further inspection turned up the TV remote on the mantel. This time, the screen came to life, revealing the satellite connection. She activated the channel guide, tuned to HGTV for company, then went to investigate the rest of the house.

Two identical master suites flanked the great room, both with heavenly king-sized beds that faced the lake, huge cedar closets with extra blankets and pillows, and spacious bathrooms with jetted soaking tubs and separate travertine marble steam showers with glass enclosures. The vanities were even stocked with basic necessities, and plush white cotton robes hung above matching slippers in his and hers sizes.

Elizabeth picked the suite on the right because it had a slightly better view of the lake.

That accomplished, she headed back to the kitchen, where she rummaged up a bottle of red wine and some crackers from the pantry, then helped herself to a block of fresh cheddar from the refrigerator.

Howe was right. The place was fully stocked.

Her
place was fully stocked.

She poured herself a glass of wine, then rinsed a bowl of raspberries and took the food out onto the porch, where ceiling fans created just enough breeze to keep away the mosquitoes. Elizabeth settled into one of the comfortable white rockers and let the peace of the surroundings gradually silence the doubts and regrets that had chased her all the way there.

When it grew dark, she finished unloading the car, then locked the house and went to sleep, so sad and tired, she didn’t wake up till morning sunlight slanted off the water and into her eyes.

Elizabeth stretched, feeling logy and disoriented in the luxurious bed. Something was wrong. Where was she, anyway?

Her hollow stomach howled as she opened her eyes to the unfamiliar surroundings and realized where she was, and why. The lump in her heart felt heavier than ever because she’d run away and left Howe to face the consequences of her stupidity. But the hurt, angry child inside her shot back that she’d covered for him for more than two decades. Let him see what it feels like.

Her stomach growled again.

Food. She needed food. And coffee.

She squinted at the digital clock on the bedside table. Nine
A.M.
, August fifteenth.

It couldn’t be the fifteenth. Not unless she’d slept for thirty-six hours straight.

Bathroom. Then food. Then she’d figure what she needed to do next.

She swung her legs off the bed and arched her back, yawning
hugely. What she
wanted
to do next, she corrected as she made for the potty and relieved herself.

It was kind of scary, actually, not having anything to do. All the busyness of life in Whittington had kept her from having to look at that life too closely. At herself too closely. Now she had no distractions.

Lord, it was too early in the morning to start psychoanalyzing. She’d go nuts in no time if she started doing that.

Elizabeth donned the terry-cloth robe and caught a subtle whiff of perfume. Wow. That maid had thought of everything.

Enjoying the peace of the place, she made herself some bacon and eggs and coffee, then sat at the window and ate with
The Today Show
on for company. The weather was gorgeous, so she decided to check out Blue Ridge and find a locksmith.

Then she indulged in a long, hot soak in the bathtub and washed her hair. Since nobody she knew was going to see her, she didn’t bother to blow-dry her usual smooth bob, but brushed through the damp waves, then caught them back with combs above her ears and scrunched in curls to air-dry.

She’d fluff it on the way to town.

She didn’t even bother with foundation or eyeliner, just put concealer on the dark circles under her eyes, swiped on a little mascara, then rubbed some bronzer on her cheeks.