Cold Tea on a Hot Day (31 page)

“Are you all right, Winston?”

“Yes.” He smiled quite happily. “Yes, I am. I stirred him.” With a nod and “Good day” to her, he smacked his cane on the concrete and started away.

Marilee went in and checked on her uncle, who she found sitting in his chair, like always, although his face had color in it for the first time in years. She asked him if he was okay, and he said, “I am as okay as any man could be who has been thrown out of his home by his wife gone insane and havin’ an affair, and who has a daughter who doesn’t want him, either.”

For a moment Marilee worked on finding some positive comment to refute the statements. At least she should contradict the accusation of Aunt Vella having an affair. But could she?

What came out was, “I’m sorry, Uncle Perry,” and by the look he gave her, she knew she had fallen far short.

She made a retreat to the soda fountain, where the new girl, Nadine, looked at her over the counter.

“I’ll have a chocolate…” She paused, reconsidering. “I’d like a glass of iced tea,” she said. She was ready for a change.

“Sweetened or unsweetened?” Nadine asked.

“Sweetened.” She watched the girl turn to fill the order.
She had to stand on tiptoe to get the glass. “Where is my cousin this morning?” she asked.

“Upstairs…said she was goin’ to put a cold cloth on her head.”

“Oh.” Marilee sat there, her eyes coming around to see her image in the long mirror on the wall.

Nadine set the tall glass, with a slice of lemon on the rim, in front of Marilee and plunked down a spoon beside it, then turned back to her compulsion of wiping every bit of stainless steel in sight.

Marilee sipped the tea and occasionally looked at herself in the long mirror on the wall. She made no effort to figure out anyone’s life, not even her own. For those minutes she sat and relished the cold sweet tea in a tall glass, and it was enough.

When she finished, she put the money on the counter and said to Nadine, “Please give Belinda a message for me. Tell her that her cousin Marilee and Parker Lindsey broke off their engagement.”

Then she left and walked home, thoroughly refreshed.

It needed to be done. A full apology and explanation were in order. If he did not want to speak to her, he could say so.

She telephoned Parker and asked if he was free to come by that evening.

He said, “Yeah…I guess I can.”

It was dusk when he arrived. She met him on the front porch. “The children are watching a movie on television. Let’s sit on the steps.”

They sat side by side. Parker didn’t say anything; he
sat rubbing his hands together as he often did when uncertain. Marilee reminded herself that she was the one who had requested the meeting. She had rehearsed what she was going to say and still had great difficulty getting the words to her tongue. “I’m sorry, Parker, for how I’ve treated you.”

He looked surprised, but said nothing.

She took a breath and went on to say that she had been attempting to make more out of their relationship than was there all along. She had done this by having the wrong motives, and said she had not seen the reason she kept putting off sleeping with him was that she was not as committed to the relationship as she believed. She explained that she was just not ready to be married. Finally she quit talking, because she doubted that Parker got any of it anyway. She doubted she had made a lot of sense out of something that even she did not fully understand.

“I do hope we can be friends. We always were good friends,” she ended.

She wondered about Parker’s motive for wanting to marry her, but decided not to ask. If he said he loved her, she doubted she would believe it. She suspected he had wanted to marry her simply to get her into bed again, which seemed really strange, so perhaps it was that added to someone to keep house and cook for him. Parker did seem to need taking care of.

The extent of what Parker said was, “Yeah…I guess we’re pretty good friends.”

Marilee looked out at the streetlight where it pooled on the sidewalk. Yep, nick of time.

Family Matters

C
orrine was reading in the big chair when she heard a car pull up in the driveway. Her Aunt Marilee was working at her desk. She sat there staring at the computer, with her chin propped on her hand, looking like she did when she was frustrated. Willie Lee and Munro were watching cartoons on the television.

Corrine, as if her antenna were tuned to any change, rose up enough to see out the window. The car, sleek and dark, was unfamiliar; an unfamiliar man was getting out from the driver’s side.

With a gulp, Corrine slipped down beside Willie Lee and whispered in his ear, “Somebody’s here. Take Munro in the bedroom.”

He cast her a puzzled frown, and she made wide eyes at him. “Hurry up…they might be here for Munro.” Ever since that day when the two people downtown had tried to get Munro, she had been on the lookout and ready.

Willie Lee scrambled to his feet, causing Aunt Marilee to look over from the computer. Corrine heard voices coming up the walk and shook her head at Willie Lee, to tell him to keep his mouth shut. He and Munro went on to the bedroom, and Corrine looked at the door. Someone knocked.

Corrine went to the door and slowly opened it, peering around it with half an idea that she could shut it again if need be.

It was her mother standing there. Her mother with a smiling face.

“Hello, hon. Are you gonna let me in?”

“Mama!”

Marilee, in something of a daze, walked across the room to greet her sister, taking in the man standing behind Anita with a cursory glance, before her gaze fell totally on her sister’s head bent against Corrine’s. Two dark heads together, two at last.

Then Anita looked up at Marilee, her expression so hesitant and doubtful of her welcome, that Marilee instantly opened her arms, and the two of them fell together, embracing and crying, “Ohmygosh, it is good to see you!”

It was strange how the burst of warm closeness could quickly fade to one of caution.

Marliee made coffee for her sister, who had come, out of the blue, not even calling first, taking for granted, of course, that Marilee would be right here where she always was—good ol’ Marilee—just waiting to see Anita and entertain her and the man who had brought her, Louis
Alvarez, a man so handsome and full of sex appeal that he could probably get women to drop their pants with one glance of his smoldering eyes.

Marilee, after the initial surprise, told herself she had been awaiting such a visit. Anita was given to showing up when she felt like it. Listening to Anita’s and Corrine’s voices, softly talking, coming from the dining room, she felt a stab of fear.
Was Anita going to take Corrine away?

Parker had been so right; she had not wanted to deal with this happening. For an instant she felt as if her brain were sizzling and she might just go all to pieces.

With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and put the hot pot of coffee on a tray, with cups and saucers, cream and sugar, glasses of juice for the children, and her best cloth napkins. She carried it all in to the table.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a coffee cake or anything. I planned to go shopping this evenin’.” It was lunchtime. She could not feed them peanut butter and jelly, which she had planned for her and the children. “Would you two like pizza? I could order it in.”

“Oh, we don’t need anything, Marilee. Don’t fuss.” Anita flashed a smile bright as a camera bulb. Anita was as beautiful as ever, thoroughly and expertly made up, hair shining, clothes as if they came from Neiman-Marcus, which she had always managed, even when unemployed. She laughed gaily. “Louis doesn’t eat sweets anyway.”

Louis, who drove a Jaguar and wore a large diamond ring on his little finger, looked like nothing softer than well-done steak ever entered his mouth.

Marilee passed out the cups of coffee and tried to
ignore that her hair was pulled back in a band, and she wore a T-shirt and sweatpants.

“My car would never have made this trip,” Anita said. “But I wanted to see my baby—” she stroked Corrine’s hair “—so Louis said he would bring me. We can’t stay…just this afternoon, and we have to get back. Louis has a court case tomorrow, and I’ve got to be back at work.”

No mention of taking Corrine with her.

Marilee studied her sister’s face, then looked over to see Corrine’s dark eyes moving anxiously back and forth from Anita to the dark-haired, totally impassive Louis.

Willie Lee came and showed his Aunt Anita his dog and his fresh bucket of worms dug just that morning. When she asked how he kept the worms alive, he told her he let them go every night in the garden. “But I keep Munro with me. He sleeps with me. He is my dog. Some people tried to take him away, but they did not get him.”

“Well…that’s good,” Anita said.

“Who tried to take Munro, Willie Lee?” Marilee asked, puzzled about the comment. She could not recall any such incident.

“Oh, it was the dogcatcher came by,” Corrine put in, “while you were in the florist…remember? We told them that Munro was our dog.”

“Yes, they were try-ing to catch my dog,” Willie Lee said.

“I’m hungry,” Corrine said, sliding off her chair. “I’m going to make us sandwiches, okay, Aunt Marilee? Willie Lee can help me. You all stay there and talk.”

She and Willie Lee, followed by Munro, went into the
kitchen. Marilee saw Anita leaning over, following her daughter with her eyes, until the swinging door came swinging closed. Then Anita and her Louis and Marilee all looked at each other, in the manner of wondering what in the world to talk about now that they were left on their own.

Marilee picked up the pot of coffee. It was still warm; she had made it strong, and now it was thick as sludge, but Louis pushed his cup forward. He did not use cream or sugar. He had yet to say a full sentence, she realized.

“So you are an attorney, Louis?” Marilee asked, surveying him, wondering what sort of bad habits were hidden beneath his fine clothes and appearance.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes coming up and meeting hers in a surprisingly straightforward manner. “I work for the county prosecutor’s office.”

“Ah. Sounds interesting.” She experienced a sort of attack of liking for the man. It came from his steady gaze and steady tone of voice.

“You’re not wearing a ring,” Anita said, as Marilee spooned sugar into her warm coffee.

At Marilee’s look, Anita said, “Mama called me last Friday and said you and Parker are gettin’ married. Where’s your ring? Didn’t Parker give you a ring?”

Bingo. This was the reason for the sudden visit, and for hauling up here with her Mr. Stud-man.

“Parker and I called it off,” Marilee said.

Anita looked startled. “Called it off? But didn’t you just get engaged last Thursday?”

“Wednesday. And we called it off Saturday, after his birthday party. We realized our error quickly.” She did not
know what possessed her, but she looked straight at Louis and said, “So, Louis, are you and Anita getting married?”

He shook his head, and it was his turn to surprise her, when he said, “I’m already married.”

Marilee, who had just sipped her coffee, almost spat it out.

They had long been separated by Anita’s bent for the “high life,” and Marilee’s bent for the quiet side. Anita, in anger, went her way, and Marilee, in anger, went hers, and every once in a while, when Anita needed Marilee, the two got together. Why was it Anita never seemed to think that maybe sometimes Marilee needed her? Maybe she did think it and didn’t care, and this caused Marilee’s stomach to knot.

She was not surprised that Anita intended to leave Corrine with her indefinitely. She
was
a little surprised that Anita was moving with Louis to New Orleans.

“He’s takin’ a position there with a private law firm…a big, important firm,” she said, and reached up to break a leaf off a low-hanging branch of the elm tree.

They were out in the yard, walking around the garden, just the two of them alone. Standing there, with a slice of late-afternoon sun playing on her dark hair, there was about Anita the air of a woman on the edge. Marilee could not put her finger on it. Her sister had always been too much, she thought. Too beautiful, too sensitive, too wild and passionate, all too much for her small body and unstable spirit.

“And what will you do?” Marilee wanted to shake Anita. “You’re going to up and leave your good job at the courthouse?”

“Louis will see if I can get on at the firm.” Anita, withdrawing from Marilee’s annoyance, played the leaf around in the air. “I have experience now in the legal field, and offices always need experienced secretaries. If the firm doesn’t want me, there’ll be somewhere I can work.”

“You are not going to marry him, but you are going to base your life on his. So, where does his wife fit in?”

“Oh, don’t be so righteous, Marilee. His wife has left him but doesn’t want a divorce and will make it real nasty if he tries it. Is your life any better? Stuck here in this one-horse town, workin’ like a dog to keep this little cottage. Lordy.”

“This little cottage is apparently good enough for your daughter.”

Anita’s eyes flashed at her. “I’m not you, Marilee, and I never will be.”

“Thank God” hung in the air.

Anita’s eyes were pinpoints. “I need a man in my life, Marilee. I don’t want to be a woman alone. I don’t see any future at all in that. At least, not a future worth livin’.”

Marilee, gazing into her sister’s sultry countenance, thought that she agreed a lot with the sentiment, if not fully, but that it would do no good to discuss her views.

In an instant Anita turned all sweetness, as if turning on a faucet, and went on about how the cottage and Valentine really were most suited to raising children, and how Marilee was a much better mother than she herself could be. Marilee realized that whenever anyone wanted her to do something, they would praise her as being so much better at it than themselves.

“I need time to catch up,” Anita said. “I’m going to
keep saving, and in another nine months or so, maybe I can have a proper home in New Orleans for Corrine. Until then, I’m so grateful to you, Marilee. I know Corrine is well taken care of…much better off than she would be with me trying to get my life established.”

Marilee, who had been doing some figuring of her own, said, “
You
tell Corrine your plans.”

“Oh, won’t you? You are so much better at it than I am.” She cast her sweet, little-girl smile.

“No.” She did not feel guilty for her stance, either.

Anita and Corrine went for a walk to have a talk; Willie Lee went out back to put his worms to bed in the garden. This left Marilee to entertain Louis. Neither of them knew what to say to the other, although this did not seem to bother Louis. Possibly not much at all could bother Louis.

Just then there came the sound of the ice cream truck. Marilee said, “Would you like a fudge Popsicle from the ice-cream man?”

A look of delight bloomed on the man’s chiseled face. “Yeah…I haven’t had one of those in years.”

Marilee grabbed her purse and ran outside to wave down the colorful, slow-moving van that came along sounding its gay tune. It occurred to her that her world was beginning to revolve around food. It did seem to soothe the savage beast.

When she came back in the house, Louis stood at her desk, the telephone to his ear. He thrust the receiver at her. “It’s for you.”

“Thank you.” She handed him his fudge Popsicle, said
into the phone, “Just a minute,” and went to put the other Popsicles she had purchased into the freezer.

Back again at the phone, she was startled to hear Tate’s low drawl come across the line. “Hi, Miss Marilee, this is Tate. Who was that who answered the phone? He said his name was Louis.”

“Yes. Louis.” She had the perverse inclination to not explain.

“Who is Louis?”

She was being silly. “My sister’s boyfriend.” She looked over to see Louis licking his fudge Popsicle like a little boy. It was an arresting sight. For an instant Marilee could clearly see Anita’s point about wanting a man.

“Oh. So your sister is visitin’?”

“Yes. She came up for the day.”

He paused. She thought to say:
Parker and I are no longer engaged.

Good grief, she could not say it straight out. And why should she tell him? She would feel the biggest fool. He had told her that Parker was not for her. She hated to admit that he had been right.

“How is the city council election coverage coming?” he asked.

“Tammy is doing the coverage today, and I have interviews with both candidates in the morning, after the firm results. We’ll get it in the Wednesday afternoon edition. Are you having a nice vacation?”

“Of sorts.” He did not seem thrilled. She was glad, and felt silly.

He said, “So everything is goin’ along all right up there—no hitches?”

“None that I know of.” She supposed her called-off engagement was a hitch in things going along. At least a change of direction. She could slip it in now.