She’d deal with the unpacking, and all the other chores that needed doing. In just five more minutes.
When she woke again, the rain had softened to a misty drizzle, a drip and plop from leaves and gutters. Around it she heard the birds singing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken to the song of birds.
Rolling over, she glanced at the pretty glass clock on the bedside table, then shot up like an arrow from a bow.
She scrambled up, dashed through the bath and into Callie’s room to find the bed empty.
What kind of a mother was she, sleeping till after nine o’clock and not having a clue where her daughter might be? Barefoot, a little panicked, she raced downstairs. A fire burned in the living room hearth. Callie sat on the floor, the old mutt Clancy curled beside her.
Stuffed animals sat in a line while Callie busily poked and prodded at the pink elephant lying trunk up on a kitchen towel.
“He’s very sick, Gamma.”
“Oh, I can see that, baby.” Curled in a chair, sipping coffee, Ada Mae smiled. “He’s looking peaked, no doubt about it. It’s lucky you’re such a good doctor.”
“He’s going to be all better soon. But he has to be brave ’cause he needs a shot.” Gently, she rolled him over, and used one of her fat crayons as a syringe. “Now we kiss it, kiss the hurt. Kisses make hurts feel better.”
“Kisses make everything feel better. Morning, Shelby.”
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I overslept.”
“It’s barely nine on a rainy morning,” Ada Mae began as Callie leaped up, ran to Shelby.
“We’re playing hospital, and all my animals are sick. I’m going to make them better. Come help, Mama.”
“Your mama needs her breakfast.”
“Oh, I’m fine, I’ll just—”
“Breakfast is important, isn’t it, Callie?”
“Uh-huh. Gamma made me breakfast after Granddaddy had to go help the sick person. I had slambled eggs and toast with jelly.”
“Scrambled eggs.” She lifted Callie for a kiss. “And you’re all dressed so nice. What time did she get up?”
“About seven. And don’t start. Why would you deny me a couple hours with my only granddaughter? Have we had fun, Callie Rose?”
“Lots and lots and
lots
of fun. I gave Clancy a dog cookie. He sat like a good boy, and he shook my hand, too. And Granddaddy gave me a piggyback ride all the way downstairs because I was quiet and didn’t wake you up. He had to go help the sick people. So I’m helping the sick animals.”
“Why don’t you bring your animals in the kitchen while I fix your mama some breakfast? She’s going to eat it all up like you did.”
“I don’t want you to have to feel you need to— Yes’m,” she finished, warned by the narrowed stare.
“You can have a Coke since you never did learn to be civilized and drink coffee. Callie, you can bring all the sick animals and fix them up right over there. You’re going to have eggs with ham and cheese—get some protein in there. I’ve got the whole day. I took off work until middle of the week. I’ve got a connection with the boss.”
“How will Granny run the place without you?”
“Oh, she’ll manage. Get your Coke, sit down there while I get this going. She’s fine, Shelby,” Ada Mae added in an undertone. “She’s busy and she’s happy. And your daddy and I enjoyed her company this morning. Now, I don’t have to ask how you slept. You look better already.”
“I slept ten hours.”
“New mattress.” Ada Mae chopped some ham. “And the rain. Makes you want to sleep all day. Haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”
“Not especially.”
“Or eating much.”
“It’s been hard to work up an appetite.”
“A little pampering might make that easier.” She glanced over at Callie. “I’m going to tell you you’ve done a good job with that girl. Of course, some of it’s just disposition, but she’s well-mannered without being all prim about it—something that just makes my back itch in a child—and she’s happy.”
“She wakes up every day raring to go.”
“She wanted you first thing, but all I had to do was take her to your bedroom door, show her you were there sleeping, and she was fine. That’s a good thing, Shelby. A child who clings usually says more about the mother clinging. And I expect it’s been hard not to cling, on both sides these past months, when it’s just been the two of you.”
“I never saw any kids her age around the neighborhood up North. But then it was so awful cold, and it seemed it was snowing every five minutes. Still, I was going to look for a good preschool, just so she could socialize, but . . . I just didn’t after—you know. I didn’t know if it was the right thing for her after. And you and Daddy came for a while, and Granny came, and that was good. It helped us both having y’all there.”
“I hope it did. We all worried we’d left you alone too soon.” Ada Mae poured whisked eggs in the skillet over the ham chunks, grated cheese into the mix. “I don’t know if I could’ve left if you hadn’t said you’d come home as soon as you could.”
“I don’t know how I’d’ve got through if I hadn’t known I could come home. Mama, that’s enough eggs for two people.”
“You’ll eat what you want, then one bite more.” Over her shoulder she sent Shelby a narrow look. “They’re wrong when they say you can’t be too thin, because you are. We’re going to plump your mama up, Callie, and put roses in her cheeks.”
“Why?”
“’Cause she needs it.” Ada Mae plated the eggs, added a slice of toast, passed it over the counter. “And one bite more.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now.” Ada Mae busied herself tidying the already tidy kitchen. “You’ve got a hot stone massage booked at two o’clock at Mama’s.”
“I do?”
“Could do with a facial, too, but I’ll do that myself later in the week. A woman drives clear down from Philadelphia hauling a toddler’s earned a good massage. And Callie and I have plans this afternoon.”
“You do?”
“I’m taking her over to Suzannah’s. You remember my good friend Suzannah Lee? She couldn’t come yesterday as she had her sister’s girl’s wedding shower. That’s Scarlet? Scarlet Lee? You went to school with Scarlet.”
“Sure. Scarlet’s engaged?”
“Got a May wedding planned, to a nice boy she met in college. They’re getting married here as Scarlet’s people are here, then moving clear up to Boston, where he’s got a job in advertising. Scarlet got her teaching degree so that’s what she’ll be doing.”
“A teacher?” Shelby had to laugh. “As I remember, Scarlet hated school like it was spinach soaked in arsenic.”
“Goes to show. What it goes to show, I can’t say, but it goes to show. Anyway, I’m taking Callie over to Suzannah’s, show her off some, and Suzannah’s getting her granddaughter, Chelsea—she’s three, like Callie—that’s her son Robbie’s daughter who married Tracey Lynn Bowran. I don’t think you’ve met Tracey. Her people are from Pigeon Forge. She’s a nice girl, a potter. That’s one of her bowls there, with the lemons in it.”
Shelby glanced at the rich brown bowl with its bold blue and green swirls. “It’s beautiful.”
“She’s got herself a kiln, works out of her house. They carry some of her pieces in town, at The Artful Ridge, and up at the hotel gift shop, too. We’ll be giving you and Tracey a day off as Suzannah and Chelsea and Callie and me, we’re having us a playdate.”
“She’ll love that.”
“So will I. I’m going to be greedy with her for a while, so I expect you to indulge me. I’m taking her over about eleven. They’ll get acquainted, then we’ll have lunch. If the weather lets up, we’ll take them out awhile.”
“Callie usually naps about an hour in the afternoon.”
“Then they’ll have a nap. You can stop fretting about it, as I can see you are.” With her chin jutted up, Ada Mae fisted a hand on her hip. “I managed to raise you and two boys besides. I think I can handle a toddler.”
“I know you can. It’s just . . . she hasn’t been out of my sight in . . . I can’t think how long. And fretting because she will be says more about me.”
“You were always a bright girl. I wouldn’t have any other kind,” Ada Mae added as she came around the island, laid her hands on Shelby’s shoulders. “Sweet Jesus, girl, you’re nothing but knots. I booked you with Vonnie—you remember Vonnie, she’s a cousin on your daddy’s side.”
Vaguely, Shelby thought, as cousins were legion in her family.
“Vonnie Gates,” Ada Mae continued. “Your daddy’s cousin Jed’s middle girl. She’ll work these out of you.”
Shelby reached her hand back, laid it over her mother’s. “You don’t have to feel you need to take care of me.”
“Is that what you’d say to your daughter, under these circumstances?”
Shelby sighed. “No. I’d tell her it was my job and my wish to take care.”
“Well then. One bite more,” Ada Mae murmured, kissing the top of Shelby’s head.
Shelby ate one bite more.
“After today, you’ll clear your own dishes, but not today. What do you want to do this morning?”
“Oh. I should unpack.”
“I didn’t say should,” Ada Mae reminded her as she cleared Shelby’s plate. “I said want.”
“It’s both. I’ll feel more settled once I get things put away.”
“Callie and I’ll help you with that. When’s the rest of your stuff coming?”
“I’ve got everything. I brought everything.”
“Everything.” Ada Mae stopped and stared. “Honey, they only took up a couple of suitcases, well, and Callie’s things since you had those boxes marked. Clay Junior didn’t stack more than a half dozen boxes, if that, in the garage.”
“What was I going to do with all those things, Mama? Even when I find a house—and I have to find a job first—I couldn’t use all those things. Did you know there are companies that come in, look things over and buy furniture all at once, right out of the house?”
She said it conversationally, lightly, as she rose, bent to pick up Callie, who was dancing, holding her arms up. “The realtor helped me find them. She was such a help to me with that sort of thing. I should send her flowers when the sale’s all done, shouldn’t I?”
The question didn’t distract her mother as Shelby had hoped.
“All that furniture? Why, Shelby, there were seven bedrooms in that house, and that big office, and I don’t even know all the other rooms. It’s as close to a mansion as I’ve ever been in without paying for the tour. And so new.” Shock and worry clear on her face, Ada Mae rubbed the heel of her hand between her breasts. “Oh, I hope you got a good price for all that.”
“I worked with a very reputable company, I promise. They’ve been in business over thirty years. I did a lot of research online on that kind of thing. I swear, I could get a job as a researcher with all I’ve done with it, if I didn’t think I’d want to shoot myself before the first week was done.
“We’re going to unpack, Callie. You gonna help before you and Gamma go?”
“I’ll help! I like helping Mama.”
“Best helper ever. Let’s get started. Mama, do you know if Clay took up the box that had Callie’s little hangers? I can’t use regular ones for her things yet.”
“He took up everything that had her name on it. I’ll just go out and look, be sure.”
“Thanks, Mama. Oh, I’ll go out, change the car seat over to your car.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” The edge in Ada Mae’s voice told Shelby her mother was still reeling from the idea of selling all that furniture.
She didn’t know the half of it yet.
“Your daddy and I got the same one you use,” Ada Mae added. “It’s all ready for her.”
“Mama.” Shelby stepped over and with her free arm pulled her mother into a hug. “Callie, you have the best Gamma in the whole world.”
“My Gamma.”
And that distracted Ada Mae—enough, Callie thought as she knew her mother would chew over the idea of selling all the furniture in a near-to-ten-thousand-square-foot house in one fell swoop.
• • •
I
T WAS ODD
not having Callie underfoot or playing in her eye line, but she’d been so excited about the playdate. And it was true enough she’d be done with the unpacking and sorting in half the time without Callie “helping.”
By noon, with everything put away, the beds made, she wondered what in the hell to do with herself.
She glanced at her laptop with some dislike, but made herself boot it up. No notices from creditors—so that was good news. Nothing yet on the sale of the house, but she wasn’t expecting it. She did read a short e-mail from the consignment shop, letting her know they’d sold two of Richard’s leather jackets, his cashmere topcoat and two of her cocktail dresses.
She replied with a thank-you, telling them yes, it was fine to wait until the first of the month to send a check to the address she’d left with them.
With unpacking and business done, she showered, dressed. Still too early to go in for the massage—and wouldn’t that be heaven? So she’d take a walk. She could use a good walk.
The thin drizzle persisted, a steady trickle of wet out of a sky soft and gray as smoke. But she liked walking in the rain. She pulled on a hoodie, short, soft leather boots, and reached for her big bag. Her Callie bag. And remembering she’d given it to her mother to take, pushed her wallet into the back pocket of her jeans.
She felt so light, so unencumbered, she didn’t know what to do with her hands, so slipped them into the pockets of the hoodie, found the little pack of wet wipes she’d stuffed in there the last time she’d worn it—when she hadn’t been so unencumbered.
She drew in a deep breath of the cool, damp air when she stepped outside. Just stood breathing in with her fingers around Callie’s wet wipes and the empty afternoon stretching ahead of her.
Everything was greening and sprouting and blooming with the misty rain turning the green, the color, more vibrant. All those scents—wet grass, wet earth, the tender sweetness of hyacinths dancing purple among the yellow of daffodils—drifted to her as she walked the long, familiar road.
She could walk by the Lee house, just to check. It was getting on to nap time, and Callie wasn’t a hundred percent on the potty training in her sleep. About ninety-eight, but she’d be so embarrassed if she had an accident because her grandmother didn’t think to take her in to pee before her nap.
She could just walk by, just a quick peek to . . .
“Stop it. Just stop. She’s fine. Everything’s just fine.”