Lowcountry Summer (42 page)

“This is some horseshit.” He pulled out his cell and called his house. “Frances Mae? Get the girls together and get over to Caroline’s on the double.” Pause. “I don’t give a good goddamn what you’re doing. I said,
Now!
” Pause. “Put the puppy in her crate.” Pause. “Fine, leave Chloe home. But
move it
!” He closed his phone. “Caroline? Go in the house and put on a pot of coffee. Stay there until I come get you.”

I didn’t budge.

“Please?”

“I’m calling Matthew.”

“For what?”

“I want the person who did this to be arrested. And then I get to call
Southern
Living
magazine and cancel, right?”

“Oh, great. That’s right,” Trip said. “I can’t
take
much more.”

I got back in my car and moved it up to the house. When I got inside, Millie was there, making waffles.

“Morning!” she said, in a chipper voice, completely unaware of last night’s dinner theater or this morning’s massacre.

“Morning,” I said.

I slammed the newspapers on the table and pulled out my cell phone to call Matthew. He answered right away.

“Matthew? Are you on duty?”

“What’s wrong? Yeah, I’m on duty.”

“You are? Good! I want you to come over here right now and bring handcuffs!”

“What’s wrong, Caroline?”

I choked up with tears of rage.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, please,” he said.

“Okay, just gimme a second here.” I cleared my throat. “Somebody came on my property last night and cut the heads off of all my roses! There are hundreds of blooms lying on the ground! And, not that it matters to anyone but me, my gardens were going to be in a big feature article in
Southern Living
!” I started to cry. “I want her locked up! I want her out of my life, Matthew! I can’t stand this! I don’t live like this!”

“I’ll be right there,” he said, and ended the call.

I collapsed into a chair at the table and Millie put a box of tissues in front of me.

“Tell me what’s going on ’eah. Stop crying and tell me.”

“Oh, Millie! I just can’t stand her another second! I can’t stand her! You can’t believe . . . oh God!”

I cried and cried, and in between my bursts of tears I got the whole story out, the horrible exchange of insults from last night and the condition of the roses, too. It wasn’t just the roses I was crying over. It was everything.

“Why
would she do such a thing?
Why?
”

“I don’t know, honey. That’s a angry woman, though. You know, chile, when she starts running her mouth like last night, you need to just excuse yourself. Don’t take her on, Caroline, ’cause she don’t care what she says and who she hurts. But you know, you shouldn’t tell on her girls. You were making such nice progress with them and now it’s all undone.”

“I wasn’t going to just sit there and let her humiliate my son, Millie. You wouldn’t either.”

The door swung open and Eric came in.

“Holy crap, Mom! What’s wrong
now
?”

“Somebody done took all the heads from the roses and ruined your momma’s garden. She thinks it was your aunt and she’s very upset.”

“She
can’t
come here and do whatever she wants and just say these
terrible
things! She
can’t
!” I was so discombobulated my words came out in a jumble, but I knew Eric and Millie understood what I meant.

Millie stood over me and rubbed my back in little circles, trying to calm me down.

“Mom? Can I say something?”

I nodded and looked at him. I’d defend my boy against an army of Frances Maes if I had to.

“My auntie Fan is a crackpot and whatever she says about me is totally irrelevant to me. Even her girls know she’s a nut bag. Who cares? Uncle Trip will kick her butt and she’ll be okay for a while and then something else will set her off and we’ll be going at it with her again! It’s who she
is
! She’s the family
lunatic
! So, don’t waste your time getting all worked up over a crazy person. She can’t help it. You know?”

“Boy?” Millie said. “When did you get so smart?”

I blew my nose. He was right.

“We were almost rid of her and now she’s back, and oh Lord! She’s so
awful
!” I said.

“Nope. She’s crazy first and then she’s awful, Mom.”

“Mean as the devil, too,” Millie added.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Eric said. “One, crazy; two, awful; and last, mean.”

“Well, we’re finally in agreement,” I said.

“So, am I getting fed around here?” he asked.

“I’m making you pecan waffles,” Millie said, and went back to stirring her batter. “Why don’t you set the table? You know, help the ladies out?”

“Sure.” Eric looked out the window. “But for how many? We got company.”

I got up and looked out through the glass panes in the door. There they all were—Frances Mae, three of her girls, Trip, and Matthew.

“Oh, please. I’m all done with them for a while. They’re too much!”

Frances Mae’s arms were flailing in the air, fingers were being pointed, and the girls looked very serious. But I noticed something very curious.

“Why is Linnie smiling?” I said.

Millie stood next to me to have a look.

“Humph. Maybe she had a hand in it, too,” Millie said.

“I wouldn’t put it past her, y’all. She’s not right in the head either,” Eric said. “Besides, you
did
blow her away last night, Mom.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“What you saying now?” Millie said.

I had left some facts out when I gave Millie the rundown of all that happened last night. So I told her everything. Millie’s third eye was pretty accurate, but it didn’t always pick up all the details.

“What?” Millie said. “Girl? You something else now, ’eah? Something else.”

I kept staring out of the window in the back door. At last the conversation grew less animated and it seemed that Matthew was finished listening. Then he was coming toward my door, so I opened it and stood aside.

“Morning, Mrs. Smoak. Morning, Eric. Caroline? Do y’all think this First Responder might be able to impose on your hospitality for a cup of coffee?”

Millie immediately filled a mug for him and handed him the carton of half-and-half.

“You mean, you’re
not
going to arrest her?” I was incredulous.

“Have you had your breakfast, Officer Strickland?” Millie said. “I’m making pecan waffles and there’s plenty.”

“Why, I really shouldn’t, but all right, if it’s no trouble, that is. Thank you.”

He sat at the kitchen table and removed his sunglasses, hooking one arm of them through the breast pocket of his starched uniform shirt.

“The waffle is really awesome,” Eric said, swirling a bite around in his syrup.

Matthew smiled at Millie and I wanted to kill them all for being so nonchalant about this terrible travesty. I mean, I
know
no one died and not one person was physically wounded, but Frances Mae couldn’t be allowed to just decapitate an entire garden of roses with no consequences! It was maddening! What was the
matter
with them?
All
of them?

“So, when you all are finished thinking about your stomachs,” I said, “does anyone want to tell me what happened out there?”

Matthew took a sip of his coffee and looked at me.

“Trip has her under control. I don’t think you’ll see anything like that happen again. Ever.”

“Really? What makes you so sure about that?”

“Because he told her that this kind of behavior is a deal breaker.”

“
What
deal?” My heart was beating so fast it scared me. “What
deal
?”

“I’m gonna let your brother tell you and he’s coming inside in a few minutes,” Matthew said. “In the meanwhile, Mrs. Smoak, this is the most delicious waffle I think I’ve ever had.”

I got up and looked outside the door again. Frances Mae and the girls were driving away and Trip was walking toward the door.

“Matthew! You have to give me more than this!
What deal?
”

“Just hang on for a couple of minutes, Caroline.”

The back door opened and Trip came sailing in as though all was well, except for the fact that he looked more haggard and spent than he had just an hour ago. He sat down at the table and Millie placed a mug of coffee in front of him.

“What’s that I smell?” he said. “Wow. Waffles.”

“I just put one on for you,” Millie said. “Be done in a jiffy. Caroline? You want one?”

I shook my head no.

“So?” I said.

“So, it’s like this. She didn’t do it, Caroline.”

“Oh, baloney,” I said.

“Look. If she had done it, there’d be a million little scratches on her from the thorns. Her arms are as clean as a whistle. So are the girls’ arms. Not one scratch on any of them.”

“That’s impossible,” I said.

“Listen, Frances Mae was just as horrified as you were.”

“Oh, please.” All I could think was Frances Mae was the world’s greatest liar now and forever. “She cares about my garden, Trip, come on.”

“No, she doesn’t give two shits about your garden and she doesn’t know the first thing about gardening either. Besides, she doesn’t even own clippers. So, you have to ask yourself, who and why, right?”

The conversation continued for a long while until I finally came to accept the possibility that Frances Mae had, in fact, not tried to murder my roses.

“I have an idea of who
might
have done it,” Eric said. “I mean, it’s a long shot, but I might be right.”

“Who, Eric?” Matthew said.

“Yeah! Who do
you
know who would do such a thing?” Trip asked.

“Humph,” Millie said under her breath. “That chile’s smarter than everybody in this room all added up together.”

“Yeah, right. Mom? Does cutting off all the flowers kill the bushes?”

“Why no, it doesn’t. Most of my bushes in bloom now are hybrids. They bloom all summer. Why? Why do you ask that?”

“Because I didn’t know that and Uncle Trip and Officer Strickland don’t know that. So who would?”

“Someone who raises hybrids or someone who sells them?” I said. “A landscaper?”

“Yeah, a landscaper who wanted to impress a girl, but didn’t really want to do permanent damage? And a niece who wanted to screw up her aunt’s shot at fame with her garden? Which would explain why Linnie was smirking?”

“Oh God, Eric!”

“Miss Caroline! What’d I tell you about calling on God except in prayer?” Millie said.

“Who says I’m not praying? Trip? Remember those two boys who Belle and Linnie were seeing? Have they been coming around?”

“How the hell would I know?” Trip said. “Things have been a little crazed lately, you know.”

I wanted to say,
Bubba, you are so Dickens’s
Bleak House,
you don’t even know it
. And next I could read Millie’s mind as she thought, You see? He’s admitting he don’t know what’s up with those kids and
that’s
why it’s a good thing Frances Mae is back!

“What do you want to do, Trip?” Matthew said, wiping his mouth and putting his napkin on the table. “Pick ’em up for questioning?”

“Let me talk to Frances Mae and Linnie first and I’ll give you a call later. What do you say, Caroline? They’re your bushes, not mine.”

“I say, see what you can find out,” I said.

“I gotta get going, Caroline,” Matthew said. “I’ll call y’all later. Hey, Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“If you’re right?” Matthew said. “You ought to think about a career with the CIA or the FBI.”

“Cool.” Eric nodded and took his empty plate to Millie. “I’m going up to my room, Mom. I gotta get a shower and then I’m going to hang out with Amelia.”

“Sure,” I said. When he was gone I looked at Trip. “Whaddaya know? The day has arrived when I don’t have to bribe him to take a bath.”

“Humph. That’s a wonderful boy, ’eah? All right now,” Millie said, and closed the door of the dishwasher. “I’m gonna go pay my sweet Mr. Jenkins a visit and tell him to move his bones! We needs to clean up the rose garden. Y’all need to be alone for a little bit to chew the fat.”