Glory Road Page 24

  —ELIZABETH MCLEOD, GARDENING IS GOOD FOR YOU

  JESSIE

  In the days since my dinner with Sumner at Donny’s, he’d sent me texts every day—sometimes just to say hi, other times to give me some random bit of trivia about golf or tell me something funny he’d heard on the radio. Then he found reasons to come see me at the shop. He was developing a new golf course about twenty miles north of Perry, so stopping by wasn’t as far out of his way as I originally thought it was, but it still wasn’t exactly on his way anywhere.

  Some of his visits were necessary, such as getting a sneak peek at the arbor Mr. Rainwater was building for Olivia and Jared to stand under during the ceremony. Sumner was having it made as a surprise for Olivia. I’d asked Mr. Rainwater to construct it with the same twisted grapevines as the chandelier that would hang from the center of the boathouse ceiling.

  Other visits were less necessary: He’d taken a picture of a plant at the new development he couldn’t identify and thought I might be able to help. Then one afternoon he stopped by because he’d been “out our way” and realized he hadn’t paid me a deposit to secure me as the wedding florist.

  I laughed. “You don’t have to secure me. Olivia’s is the only wedding I’m working on.”

  “For now, maybe. Who knows where this will lead?”

  “Your lips to God’s ears,” Mama called from the glider on the front porch. “If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that one thing always leads to another.”

  Why he couldn’t have just texted me the photo of the flower or mailed me a check, I didn’t know, but I had to admit I enjoyed being the recipient of his lavish attention. He brought gifts too, for all of us. It felt extravagant, although slightly misplaced. A dog-eared copy of On the Road for Evan—“I found it at a used bookstore in New Orleans. Thought you might like it.” A new, remastered CD of Johnny and June singing their favorite hymns, a disc missing from Mama’s collection. A shiny new pair of garden shears for me, to replace my old pair that had dulled with time.

  Then came a lush bouquet of pale-pink peonies and blush roses with a card tucked inside. “If you’re free Friday, meet me on the dock at 7.”

  On Friday, an hour before I was supposed to leave for Dog River, I rounded the corner from my bedroom out into the kitchen where Mama and Evan were making dinner.

  “How do I look?”

  Mama turned around, one hand still stirring the pot of rice on the stove. She sighed when she saw me. “Prettier than a sunset.”

  Evan wrinkled her nose. “You don’t look like yourself.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” Mama stirred the rice with a little extra vigor than necessary.

  “Thanks, Mama,” I said.

  “You could wear a potato sack and still be beautiful. I just think it’s not a bad thing anytime you have an excuse to peel yourself out of those rubber boots and old T-shirts.”

  My new blue-and-white dress grazed the tops of my knees, not too tight, but not loose either. I’d found it at Perry’s only boutique, specializing in squeezing country girls into hip-hugging blue jeans and midriff-bearing tops. Thankfully, they’d had a few other options. I also bought a long necklace with a delicate silver-and-gold feather tassel and a pair of strappy sandals. When I tried it all on in the privacy of my bedroom, I was unexpectedly pleased at my reflection staring back at me. Until I saw Evan’s wrinkled nose.

  “Maybe it’s too much.” I turned sideways and peered at my rear end where the fabric hugged.

  “You look just fine.” Mama checked the clock on the stove. “Anyway, it’s too late to change. You need to get going.”

  Evan raised an eyebrow, then headed back to her room.

  “Hey, where are you going?” I called. “I need your opinion.”

  “I already gave it. And Nick asked me to come up and help him restake the cages around their tomato plants. He did it wrong and they fell over.” She stuck her head back into the kitchen, her hand on the doorframe. “Is that okay?” she asked, her eyes pleading. “I’ll walk up there and Mr. Bradley can drive me home. I won’t stay long, I promise.”

  “I don’t know if I want you out while I’m not here. What if something happens?”

  Mama caught my eye. “I can stay here while you’re gone.”

  “And Mr. Bradley will be home. Nick already said they’re replacing some wood around a window or something.”

  “You and Nick have been talking a lot.”

  Evan rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might not return to normal. “We’re just texting.”

  “I thought you didn’t like texting. Or your phone.”

  “It’s just . . .” She exhaled, a quick, hard burst of breath. “I don’t know, he’s someone to talk to. Ruth doesn’t have a phone and there’s no one else.”

  I smoothed my hand down her long braid. “Okay, baby. Show him how to stake the cages. Although it’s pretty hard to mess them up.”

  “I know. It’s kind of funny that he can’t figure it out.” Evan turned to head back to her room. “And you actually do look kind of nice.”

  I watched her retreating figure in the dark hallway. “I guess I should take that as a compliment.”

  “Take it however you want.” Mama dropped an extra pat of butter in the rice and checked the clock again.

  “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Honey, I’ll be just fine. Now, get out of here or you’ll make me miss the beginning of the Gilmore Girls marathon. Harvis may pop down a little later for a cup of tea. You go have fun and I’ll be all ears when you get home.”

  I was almost to Sumner’s house when Olivia called me.

  “Jessie, I’m freaking out,” she said as soon as I answered. “We have less than four weeks until the wedding, people aren’t sending in their RSVPs so I have no idea how many people we’ll have, the caterer nixed the sushi, and my dress is too loose. And it’s strapless, which makes it worse.”

  I paused, deciding which fire to address first, but she continued. “Anytime I raise my arms, the dress slides three inches down my cleavage. My dad will have a heart attack!”

  “Okay, let’s take it one at a time. People never RSVP the way you want them to. Just plan for half the number you invited. That’ll at least be in the right ballpark. And about the sushi, what if you take some of the ingredients you like in sushi, other than the raw bits, and make a sort of vegetable platter with it? Or forget it completely and do something like shrimp and grits? Serve it in martini glasses or little glass jars.”

  I shook my head, hearing myself spout out ideas like I was used to helping people work out kinks in their wedding planning. So much for my plan to just deal with the flowers. Since Olivia had no one else to give her advice, it had fallen on my inexperienced shoulders. Though right now it sounded like she needed a therapist more than anything.

  “Hmm. I’m liking that idea.”

  “As for your dress, it sounds like you need to either put on some weight or have a seamstress take it in.”

  “I know. It fit perfectly a few weeks ago, but that was before the nerves kicked in and my weight started dropping.”

  “Why the nerves? You seemed calm when we last talked.”

  “I don’t know, I just . . . Argh, I’m getting married! I’ll be with this man forever. Attaching myself to him for the rest of my life.”

  “Yes, that is the idea.”

  “It’s just . . . It’s a little nerve-racking. How do you know if it’s right? If getting married is what we’re supposed to do?”

  “Well, you don’t.”

  She laughed. “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel tons better.”

  “It’s true though. There’s no way to know every single thing about a person, even the person you marry. To some extent, we’re all kind of a mystery.”

  Some more than others, I thought. My marriage to Chris showed me exactly how much you can not know about another person. In that regard I didn’t blame Olivia for worrying. “Have you talked to Jared at
all about this? Have you let him know you’re nervous?”

  “We’ve talked about marriage exhaustively, but no, I haven’t told him I’m nervous. It’d crush him. He’s like . . . He’s the best person I know.”

  “And you’re still worried?”

  She sighed. “I hate to even say something like this, but what if I meet someone else later—even years from now—and I wonder if he’s the one I should have married?”

  “Easy. He won’t be. Because you’ll already be married to Jared, which means he’s the right one for you. Love is . . . Well, a lot of it is a choice. A choice to love the person you’re with.”

  I propped my elbow on the window ledge and rubbed my forehead. I wasn’t making marriage sound very romantic.

  “A choice,” Olivia said slowly, as if pondering the word. “Like a plan that you carry out.”

  By this time I knew enough of Olivia’s personality to imagine her working that out in her head, seeing Love written on an efficient checklist where she could cross off items as she accomplished them.

  1.Be a successful lawyer.

  2.Get married.

  3.Love my husband.

  Check, check, check.

  “Well, it’s—not exactly.”

  “No, I like that. I like a plan. I’m good with those.”

  When we hung up a moment later, she sounded better, not as frantic. My phone, however, showed a red bar at the top, indicating I only had 5 percent battery life left. I dug through my console for my spare phone charger. Coming up with nothing, I made a mental note to ask Sumner if I could use his charger for a bit, just to get enough charge to finish out the evening.

  Parked in his driveway, I checked my hair in the rearview mirror, then hopped out. Sumner opened the front door as I reached the top porch step.

  “You’re late,” he said with a smile.

  “Sorry. I was on the phone with Olivia.”

  “Ah. It’s no wonder you’re late then. Did she have a million things to go over with you?”

  He held the door open for me and I slid past him. Inside smelled musky and delicious. The evening sun rays were sharp, turning the hardwoods a bright caramel color. “Not quite that many, although she did seem to have a touch of nerves.”

  “I got that from our last call. I tried to calm her, tried to think of things Elizabeth would’ve said, but as usual, I don’t think my advice was all that great.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Grown-up girls tend to listen to their daddies. I know I did.”

  He shook his head. “Grown-up girl. Hard to believe she got there so fast.”

  In the kitchen he handed me a chilled glass of wine. He wore a white polo shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and had bare feet. “How’s the arbor going?”

  “It’s looking good. Mr. Rainwater is really enjoying the process, I think. It gives him something to work on during the day when he’s not up at the shop helping me. I have some photos to show you . . .” I reached into my bag for my phone. “Oh, that reminds me. Do you mind if I plug my phone in? I didn’t realize until I got here that I’m almost out of battery.”

  “Sure.” He pulled a charger from a drawer under the counter and handed it to me.

  I tried to plug it into my phone but the end was the wrong size. “Oh well. I’ll just have to hope that 5 percent gets me home tonight.”

  “We could run out and buy you a charger. It won’t take long.”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. Anyway, we’d miss the sunset.”

  “Speaking of . . .” He held his arm out toward the back porch. “Shall we?”

  He grabbed a soft-sided cooler and the bottle of wine and I followed him through his vast grassy lawn with the majestic oak in the corner and down to the dock. The water just barely lapped against the pilings of the boathouse. A small, sleek boat was tied up next to the steps that led down to the water. All black paint, chrome, and rich mahogany wood, it bumped gently against the dock.

  “Is that yours?” I felt silly for asking—whose else would it be?—but he hadn’t mentioned anything about a boat, and it wasn’t there the last time we were down at the dock.

  “Oh no. It belongs to a friend. He’s just letting me borrow it for the evening.” I exhaled and he laughed. “I do have a boat though. It’s docked down in the Bahamas at the moment.” He winked at me, then took my hand and helped me step onto the boat.

  We spent the next half hour before sunset zipping up and down the river, exploring small creeks and inlets as they appeared along the edges. When the sun dipped low toward the horizon, Sumner dropped the anchor and we floated, bobbing gently in the small swells that rippled under the boat. He pulled a wedge of soft cheese, a bowl of bright-green grapes, and a box of crackers from the cooler, and I chose a spot at the front of the boat.

  After a few minutes, the lull of the water and the sound of birds singing in trees along the shore made my eyelids heavy. Closing them felt luxurious.

  “I have to say, you look good on the front of a boat,” Sumner said.

  I opened one eye. “We’re lounging on a beautiful boat in the middle of the river at sunset. Anyone would look good in this setting.”

  Sumner laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “If this were a movie, Evan would have already gagged and thrown popcorn at me.”

  “Good thing she’s not here then. Flying popcorn would definitely ruin the mood.” He reached over and took my hand. The fading sunlight cast every surface—the water, the boat, our skin—in a faint golden glow.

  It was nearly ten thirty when I got home, and I wasn’t prepared for what I saw in the driveway—Ben’s Jeep parked next to Harvis’s truck. I threw my car in Park, then ran inside to find Ben, Nick, and Evan at the kitchen table. As soon as I opened the front door, Evan ran to me and wrapped her arms around me. “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t get you on the phone, so I called Mr. Bradley. Well, I called Nick, and he got his dad.”

  I pulled back and put my hands on the sides of her face. “Tell me what happened.” Her eyes were dry, but I could tell she’d been crying. A hard rock formed in my stomach. I glanced at Ben.

  “When Mr. Bradley dropped me off tonight, I opened the door and called to Gus that I was home,” Evan was saying. “I went over to the shop to get my book I’d left there this afternoon. When I came back here, she wasn’t in the house. I checked her house and looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find her. I still don’t know if she was in the house when I first called to her. I’d just assumed she was. Finally I called Nick and he and his dad came to help me search.”

  Ben stood and was by my side in an instant. “Your mom’s okay. We found her up the road, toward the highway. She was pretty confused and couldn’t tell us where she’d been going. We brought her back here and laid her down. She’s in there resting.” He gestured to the den.

  I nodded absently, my mind spinning. “And Mr. Rainwater—why’s he here?”

  “She asked me to get him. She didn’t calm down until he got here. He’s sitting with her now.”

  “Mom, where were you? I kept calling you.”

  My phone. Under the spell of the sunset and the wine—and Sumner himself—I’d totally forgotten about the phone and its low battery. When I finally got back in my car to leave, the battery was dead.

  “Oh, baby.” I smoothed my hand down the back of her head. “My battery died and I didn’t have the right charger . . .” My voice trailed off. It didn’t matter what happened or where I was. The fact was I wasn’t where I was needed. “I’m so sorry.” I pulled her to me in a tight hug. The top of her head fit snugly under my chin. She tightened beneath my touch, but she didn’t pull away. In my peripheral vision I saw Ben plug my phone into the charger that sat on top of my desk.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed to him over the top of her head.

  He tapped Nick on the shoulder. “Time to go.”

  When the door closed behind them, Evan turned toward her bedroom and I approached Mr. Rainwater in the den. He�
��d pulled a chair next to the couch where Mama was asleep. She was almost angelic, like nothing in the world could make her upset, like she hadn’t been walking down the road alone and confused just a couple of hours before.

  “Mr. Rainwater?” I whispered. He jerked as if he’d been asleep.

  “Hey there, Jessie.” He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “I suppose I should get on back home. I just wanted to make sure Augusta was okay.”

  “Thank you for looking after her. Your friendship with her means a lot to me.”

  He nodded and made his way to the door. After one last glance over his shoulder at Mama, he paused at the threshold. “She didn’t want me to say anything to you, and I didn’t out of respect for her, but I’m glad you know now.”

  The rock in my stomach shifted and tumbled, finally settling back down but in the wrong position. “How did you know? And what do you know?”

  “She had a . . . an episode a little while ago. Couple weeks maybe. She just got confused, thought there was water . . .” He shook his head again. “Your mama is a special woman. I’m lucky she even wants me around.”

  “Tonight she more than wanted you around, Mr. Rainwater. It sounds like you’re the only one who could calm her down.”

  His lips pulled in and he chewed his lip a moment, as if searching for words. Or trying to hold himself together. “Jessie . . .” He stopped and patted my shoulder. “Sweetheart, I think it’s time you called me by my first name. Just Harvis. That’ll do.”

  I smiled. Tears building up behind my eyes made them prickle and burn.

  Once he left, I tiptoed back into the den and sat in the chair Mr.—Harvis had just vacated. Someone—probably him—had covered her with a quilt up to her chest. Her arms lay on top of it. I lifted her hand closest to me and gently wrapped my hand around it.

  Seeing her every day, week in and week out, I didn’t notice physical changes all that much. But now as I watched her sleep, I noticed more than ever how she’d aged. I took in every curve and line in her face, the gentle sag in her cheeks, the skin on the backs of her hands that bore the faint beginnings of age spots, and my heart broke a little. Somehow my mother had changed from the always-snazzy Gus into a woman of nearly seven decades at the beginning of something that could turn out to be very scary.