Pawleys Island-lowcountry 5 (25 page)

Well, that was a surprise, but what could Rebecca do except take the stand and swear to tell the truth—not that anyone needed a Bible to encourage Rebecca to be honest.

Shelby smiled at Rebecca as she took the oath, and when she was finished she said, “Please be seated.”

From the quizzical expression on Shelby’s face, I knew she was looking for the right words to use to get the answers that she wanted from Rebecca.

“Mrs. Simms, your husband is suing you for divorce on the grounds of habitual drunkenness including the use of narcotics. It was mentioned in Mr. Albright’s opening statement and alluded to by the children’s high school counselor. We’ve never heard from you on these accusations. So I want to ask you to explain them.”

Rebecca was very nervous. Everyone could see her hands shaking. But she was not to be underestimated in her courage to let the truth be known.

“Judge Shelby, thank you. Thank you for this opportunity to tell a little bit about my side of things. May I have a glass of water please?”

I poured it and brought it to her. “The truth will set you free,” I whispered.

Shelby heard me and smiled.

“My family was so happy until about a year and a half ago. I knew something was wrong with Nat. It was obvious that he wanted me out of our home, and I may have suspected that he had another woman—in fact, I did suspect it but I never had any evidence of it. I couldn’t prove it. But his whole attitude toward me changed, and he worked very hard to change the feelings of our children toward me as well. It got very ugly around our house. The uglier it became, the more depressed I got. Every time I would go online on the computer and I kept getting these pop-up ads to buy medicine online, so I thought I would. I would try taking something to see if it would help my depression. I thought that maybe my own sadness was sort of feeding his discontent. If I could get happy again…well, you understand, right? If a pill could improve my relationship with him, I was willing to give it a try.”

“And how long did you take them?”

“For about a week. They made me very out of it in the head and very forgetful.”

“Like remembering to pick up the children from school?”

“That only happened once during that time, but after that I just quit taking them. Actually, they made things worse because I was so ditzy that Nat screamed at me even louder and more often.”

“I see. And what about the alcohol?”

“Judge Shelby, you can ask anyone. I’m not a big drinker. I might have two or three glasses of wine at a party, and that’s only a couple of times a year. No one would ever accuse me of being drunk all the time. That’s just, well, it’s ridiculous.”

“Fine, Mrs. Simms. I have what I need. You may step down.”

Rebecca returned to her seat beside me. She was trembling. I squeezed her hand and said, “Good job.”

Shelby cleared her throat.

“All right then. This court awards full custody of the children and the house to Rebecca Simms, with the proviso that they begin family counseling immediately for a period of one year, the frequency of those visits to be determined by the family counselor. As to visitation, that is to be worked out between Mr. and Mrs. Simms to something that is reasonable rights of visitation—such as every other weekend, one month to Mr. Simms each summer, rotating annual holidays, etc.

“Mr. Simms has forty-eight hours to vacate the family home. He is to take with him only his personal possessions—clothes, toilet articles—and further division of household property will take place in thirty days to allow a time period for the children to adjust to the changes.

“Now, about money…”

Judge Shelby awarded alimony and child support to Rebecca and one half of the interest in Nat’s business. Nat would also have the pleasure of the legal expenses. At the end of it all, Rebecca came away with almost sixty percent of their assets, which well covered the costs of Charlene’s Medical Mystery Tour. It was a generous settlement and we were thrilled.

When Shelby was finished reading her decision, she stood to leave the courtroom, reminding everyone that interviews were to be conducted outside the building and to kindly vacate the room as there was another case on the docket in thirty minutes. People began filing out. It was hard to believe it was all over.

I looked over at Nat and Albright. Nat was slouched in his chair, but Albright was on his feet packing his briefcase. I caught his eye and he came over to shake my hand.

“Congratulations,” he said.

His face was so sincere that I worked to disguise the pleasure I felt in the win.

“Thanks.”

Nat stood and came to Albright’s side. He looked down at Rebecca and snarled.

“Well, I hope you’re
happy,
Rebecca. You’ve all but wrecked my life.”

“I didn’t wreck your life, Nat. You wrecked it yourself.”

Nat made a guttural sound of disgust and they walked away. I turned to her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just want to call Sami and Evan and tell them what happened.”

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

“No, I’ll be okay. They are my children, after all. I just have to make them mine again. Hey, Abigail, thanks for everything. I could never see my way through this, but you did.”

“You are entirely welcome. It’s nice when things work out every now and then.”

Huey, Claudia and Jeff Mahoney were waiting for us, smiling and anxious to congratulate us. I assumed Byron had taken Miss Olivia back to the hotel.

“What a grand day this is!” Huey said. “Your hair looks fierce, Rebecca.”

“Oh, Huey!”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

Mahoney took Rebecca’s arm, and Claudia and I took Huey’s.

The steps were mobbed with television cameras and reporters. We worked our way through them as politely as we could, declining comments. The press conference was next.

The hotel had cleared the furniture from the parlor and set up a table and chairs at the far end. By the time we arrived, the room was full. Rebecca told me that she had prepared a statement and when I asked her if she wanted me to go over it with her, she said, “No, I’m not sure I’m even going to use it. But thank you, Abigail.”

Rebecca was shaky as she made her way to the microphone. I sat beside her at the table and waited for her to begin. Rebecca put her notes in front of her and took a long drink of water.

“Should I just start?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“This is a little sick to me, you know.”

“Don’t throw away your chance, Rebecca.”

Rebecca cleared her throat, turned her notes over and said, “Good morning. You have to wonder what the world has come to when something like this becomes national news. It’s a little bit bizarre to me, anyway.”

She paused and I looked around at the crowd of camera crews and reporters nodding their heads in agreement. But we all knew that they were just doing their jobs, churning the water so that Rebecca could ride the wave.

“I know everyone has come here to talk about what I think about my ex-husband’s girlfriend and do I wish the judge had ordered half of her plastic surgery reversed. My life, her life and in fact,
your
life is not a reality show for the amusement of others. Think about it. What Charlene Johnson did was just another demonstration of what extraordinary things women do in the name of love. And that’s what we had in common—we loved the same man. And we can both do better than to settle for the kind of manipulation and embarrassment we have endured. Do I feel vindicated? No, I do not. I feel sad. I’m not opposed to plastic surgery, but I don’t believe any responsible doctor should dramatically change someone’s appearance unless their patient requests it because
they
want it—not because their boyfriend wishes they had a bigger bra size or their husband wishes they had a fuller backside. This whole country has gone a little crazy desperately seeking youth and beauty because eventually we
all grow old. That’s life
. And let me tell you something, I’d rather spend the rest of my life alone than
one
night with a man who thought that changing
me
would make
him
happy.”

Rebecca reached in her purse and pulled out a foil-wrapped wet wipe. She choked up as she opened it, and sobbing, she began to scrub her face, removing every trace of makeup. There was a heavy silence as the cameras flashed.

“Look,” she said. “This is me. This is who I am. Not the makeup. It’s inner makeup that matters.”

Rebecca, her emotions now gone completely out of control, got up and ran from the room.

It’s inner makeup that matters!

Not bad, Rebecca, I thought as I picked up her purse.

“You’re her attorney, aren’t you?”

I began digging through the contents. “Yes, I’m Abigail Thurmond.”

“Do you have any comment?”

“Yes, I’d like to know if she has another wet wipe.”

I found one, opened it and used it on my face as well. Cameras flashed, I got up, mustering my sense of humor and my pride and left the room to find Rebecca. Huey caught my arm at the back of the room.

“That was bloody brilliant, Abigail. Bloody brilliant. I’ll never use my bronzer again.”

“Oh, God, Huey! You’re priceless!”

I rapped my knuckles on Rebecca’s door and Byron opened it. Julian was there with Claudia and Miss Olivia. Rebecca was sitting on her bed against her pillows with her knees up to her chest, tissue box at her side, still weeping and intermittently blowing her nose.

“I’m such a
fool
! Did y’all see what I
did
? I
completely
lost my cool in front of a zillion people! I had this chance to talk about a million things—anything! And what did
I
do? I washed my damn
face
! What’s the
matter
with me?”

“It was
phenomenal
, Rebecca! You did
great
!” Claudia said.

“No, I
didn’t
! I looked like an
idiot
! The entire country is going to be making fun of me for the
rest of my life
! I’m going to be that stupid woman who took
off
her makeup on national television!”

“So what? You sent a message to women
everywhere,
Rebecca!” Huey said.

Miss Olivia was sitting across the room in an upholstered armchair that was so big it made her appear tiny and withered. But her attention to the conversation was as sprightly focused as ever.

“What do you think, Abigail?”

“I took off my makeup too.”

Everyone, including Rebecca looked at me and said, “Oh, my God! You did! You really
did
!”

And then we started to laugh and laugh.

“Well, at least I’m not the only national idiot!” Rebecca said.

“Nobody’s a national idiot,” Julian said.

The phone rang and Claudia answered it. It was Nat.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said, handing the phone to Rebecca.

“Hello?”

“I don’t need forty-eight hours to get out of here. I’m leaving now. You can pick up the kids from school and have at it, Rebecca. I’ll come back and get the rest of my clothes this weekend. I’ll be staying with Charlene in Orangeburg. I made her bail and we made up.”

“Fine.”

“Fine? Is that all you have to say? Fine? How about thank you, Nat? Do you think you could choke out a simple thank you?”

“Hey, Nat? How’s this? Thank you for getting out of
my house
?” She dropped the phone back in its cradle and looked at us. “I hung up on him.”

“Well, that’s better than
being
hung up on him,” I said, thinking how clever I was. “Let’s get some lunch. I’m starving!”

“I’ll come along,” Julian said, “but only if you girls put on some lipstick.”

The great white shark that lives in the hearts of all women was poised to strike on dry land, and Claudia, Rebecca and I shot him straight lines of death rays.

“It was only a joke! Jeesch! You’re all so sensitive!”

With plenty of groans, the consensus comment was, “Very funny, Judge.”

“Okay, I’ll buy lunch for everyone. Are we okay now?”

“It’s a start,” I said. “It’s a start.”

A
FTER
lunch, Claudia and I went back to Rebecca’s house with her. She hadn’t stepped foot in it since the day she walked out, and she had no idea what she would find.

Where she lived on Tradd Street, on the tip of the peninsula, is the most historic and unique section of Charleston. Every few steps you passed a window box with flowers tumbling over its edges followed by a wrought-iron gate a few feet away. You peeked through the gate and behind it was a magical garden of clipped and shaped boxwood topiaries, azalea and camellia hand-pruned shrubs and specimen plantings of ornamental grass borders. Pyracantha and ivy climbed ancient walls of tiny handmade bricks and lead decorative pots overflowed with brightly colored geraniums and begonias. The whole area was so bewitching that you would find yourself longing to trespass just to dip your hot feet in a stranger’s fountain waters. Rebecca’s home was one of those, but her garden was hardly a nominee for “yard of the month.”

We pushed open the heavy gate and Rebecca gasped. The flowers in her planters were dried up and gone to another incarnation. The grassy areas had not been mowed in several weeks. Her roses were spindly and filled with black spot. Forgotten bicycles and skateboards had been dropped and left, and the outdoor table was littered with fast-food cups and bags. The courtyard fountain sputtered and the water lilies were thick clumps of strangling overgrowth.

“Oh, Lord!” she said. “My fountain is full of green gunk! And look at this yard! It’s a mess!”

“These are all fixable things,” I said. “Don’t you have a gardener?”

“Well, we
did
! Looks like he’s on vacation!”

“Just call him,” Claudia said. “Nat probably told him to take a hike.”

We climbed the steps and Rebecca stopped. Running shoes caked with mud were piled on the porch near the door.

“What?” I said.

“I don’t have keys!”

“Let’s just try the door and see.”

Sure enough, Nat had left the front door unlocked, and we walked right in to her center hall, as any robber could. On our right was her living room, and the dining room was on the left. I assumed the kitchen was behind the dining room and that a study or a guest room was behind the living room. There was a delicately curved flight of stairs to the second and third floor and a powder room tucked under the stairwell on the first floor. Rebecca went from room to room and disappeared into the kitchen.

It was a classic Charleston row house, beautifully detailed, but to say it was filthy was charitable. Her house was desperately in need of dust cloth, vacuum cleaner and Windex action, followed by some big bowls of flowers and the smell of something good, like chocolate chip cookies coming from the kitchen. Rebecca’s children were going to be shocked enough as it was to find her there. It was obvious that we all needed to help her pull the house together.

Claudia and I were trying to figure out what to do when Rebecca came bounding down the steps.

“The dishwasher is full, the dryer is full of clothes, every bed is unmade and heaven only knows when the last time was they changed the sheets! There’s nothing in the refrigerator to eat, everything’s covered in an inch of dust, the bathrooms are gross…”

“Rebecca! Get a grip, honeychile! I’m a full-service attorney and Claudia’s a full-service friend. We already got this nailed! She’s gonna fold the laundry and change the beds…”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are!”

“I guess I am.”

“And I’m commandeering the vacuum cleaner and the dusting. You tackle the kitchen and the bathrooms, and in the end we’ll divide up the work again, okay? Feel better? Gee niminy! I should’ve brought Daphne!” That gave me an idea. I dialed Huey on my cell phone and he picked up right away. “Huey? How much do you love me?”

Huey, thank all the saints in heaven, loved me a lot. He was bringing dinner, doing a general grocery shop for the house and picking up fresh flowers.

“What’s the children’s favorite dinner and dessert?” he said.

“I don’t know. Hang on.” I found Rebecca in the kitchen, rummaging around the storage closet, pulling out all the cleaning supplies. “Hey! What do your kids like for dinner?”

“Spaghetti, garlic bread, salad and chocolate cake. There’s no milk in this house or bread or anything!”

“Stop whining! Get to work!” I went back to my phone. “Huey?”

“I heard it all. Boy, she really has her bloomers all twisted in a knot, doesn’t she?”

“Yep. So would you. You should see this place.” I walked back out to the hall where Rebecca couldn’t hear me. “Don’t worry, I’m billing Nat for our hours on this one too!”

“Well, psychologically it will be very good for those kids to come home to a clean house. Am I right?”

“Well, Claudia and I think so, or else we wouldn’t be rolling up our sleeves!”

The business of restoring order got under way. You couldn’t hear yourself think with the noise of the vacuum cleaner, the slamming of doors as Rebecca took bag after bag of garbage, magazines, catalogs and old newspapers outside. The flushing of toilets, and running water were the backup music for the old Motown music I had blaring from 102.5 on Rebecca’s sound system. Claudia and I were singing along at the top of our lungs, and even Rebecca joined in. We still knew all the words to “Stop! In the Name of Love!” and “My Boyfriend’s Back.” We sounded so terrible that I half expected all the neighborhood dogs to start howling.

Claudia must have passed me fifty times with armloads of sheets and towels, the children’s laundry, and Nat’s as well. She stopped as she was carrying a laundry basket of Nat’s clean clothes upstairs.

“This irritates the crap out of me,” she said.

“What does? Did you say crap? Is that how doctors talk in Atlanta?” I giggled. I liked Claudia. She understood the value of well-used slang and she didn’t care what anyone thought about it either.

“Yeah. Crap. All doctors in Atlanta say it. It’s required. Listen, I’m folding Nat’s panties like the son of a bitch is my husband and we’re going to Europe or something. Shouldn’t I just throw them in a suitcase and help get him out of here?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Ask Rebecca where they keep the luggage.”

“Third-floor attic closet. Already saw it.”

“What?” Rebecca said, coming in the room.

We told her and she said, “Why should I give him the luggage? I’ll never see it again!” She sailed out of the room bound for the kitchen and I looked at Claudia.

“My goodness, Doctor Kelly. You have the oddest expression! What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I should do something extra special for my girlfriend, that’s all.”

I went back to my vacuuming and about fifteen minutes later, Huey walked in with six bags of groceries, dumping them on the floor in the hallway.

“There’s more in the car,” he said. “Come help me before I drop dead. Whoo! So much pressure!”

Claudia came outside and took the flowers from the front seat. She was laughing so hard I thought she was going to start having convulsions.

“Claudia! What ever on this earth could be so funny?” I said.

“My dee-ah! Do you need a chaise to recline until this hysteria passes?”

“
Y’all!
Y’all are
not
gonna believe what I did!”

“What?” I turned to Huey and said, “She’s been doing Nat’s laundry, and she’s not too thrilled about it.”

“Oh!
Now
I am! In fact, I’m so happy I got to wash and fold Nat Simms’s cheap U-Trow and socks that I could dance!”

“Clau-dee-ah!” Huey said. “
What
did you do to them?”

“Yeah, fess up, Dr. Mengele. What did you do?”

“Promise not to tell?” We crossed our hearts and she said, “Well, I left the attic door open, and when I went back to the third floor I noticed they had fiberglass insulation in the walls…”

“No! You
didn’t
!” I knew immediately what she had done.

“Yes! I did! Every last pair!”

“What am I missing here?” Huey said.

“Wake up, baby, and smell the chai!” Claudia said. “The fiberglass was dusty, and all I had with me was Nat’s clean laundry. I merely turned his socks and underpants inside out and dusted thefiberglass insulation. Then I turned them back on the right side, folded them and put them back in his drawers. That’s all. No biggie.” She smiled, turned away and then back to us. “And if y’all tell Rebecca,” she said with a south Georgia drawl, “I’ll jess haveta kill all y’all till yewr choked dead.”

Huey was astonished. His jaw was hanging open so wide I could count his caps.

“What a
woman
!” he said. “Wait until I tell Miss Olivia! She will
love
this story!”

“She’s a little dangerous. Come on, let’s get inside and finish up. Her children get out of school in less than an hour.”

Forty-five minutes later there were roses in place on the dining room table, a bud vase of gerber daisies on an end table in the living room and another in the kitchen window. The whole house smelled like lemon wax, the chocolate brownies that were baking in the oven and the spaghetti sauce that simmered on the stove. The living room pillows were in their correct positions, the beds were all made with fresh linens, the bathrooms sparkled and clean towels waited on the racks. Nat and all his bad aura had been scoured, dusted, Windexed and swept right out the door.

Rebecca said, “Now this house looks like it’s supposed to! Everything looks so pretty and clean! How can I ever thank you?”

“I might need an organ donor some day,” I said.

“I’ll go pack your stuff at the hotel, check you out and bring it back over here,” Claudia said.

“Why don’t you spend the night here with me and fly out of Charleston tomorrow?” Rebecca said.

“You nervous?” Claudia said.

“Yeah.”

Claudia looked at us for an opinion. I think we all felt that Rebecca’s first night back in her house and with her children should be hers alone. But we also understood why Rebecca was feeling as she was. If those were my kids, I’d have a good case of the jitters too.

“Tell you what,” Claudia said. “I’ll stay for dinner. How’s that?”

“That’s just great! That’s fine. Thanks.”

“Huey? I think I’m gonna miss work tomorrow,” Rebecca said.

“And the next. But don’t worry, honey. My door is always open to you. I’ll find a framer. But you just keep painting. You hear me?”

Rebecca and Huey hugged like they would never see each other again. “I’ll come up Saturday,” Rebecca said. “I have to empty Claudia’s condo. Get all my stuff.”

“Bring the children!” I said. “I’ll take them to the beach.”

I gave Rebecca a hug, and we sighed hard, looking at each other like trench buddies.

“We won,” she said.

“We won big-time,” I said.

Huey and I said good-bye to Claudia, and she promised to call us after dinner to give us the latest, and then Huey followed me back to the hotel.

Walking through the parking lot with me, he said, “God Almighty! I feel like I just married off a daughter!”

“Yeah, but boy, am I glad things turned out the way they did!”

“I could use a bourbon,” he said. “You know, a little celebratory shooter to mark the occasion? Hmmm?”

“Pass. I’d rather have a glass of wine on my porch at Pawleys.”

“I’ll see you at seven,” he said. “And I’ll bring dinner. Byron can help. We’ll tuck Mother in for the night with a sandwich and a sherry.”

I started to protest, thinking I would just steam a big bowl of shrimp, and then I realized how tired I was.

“Deal,” I said.

I began the drive up Highway 17, listening to Walter Edgar on NPR, and called Julian on my cell.

“Hey, babe! Thanks for lunch. Wanna come up to Pawleys for dinner?”

“It’s been a long time since someone called me
babe
. I have to be in court so early in the morning. Can I take a rain check for the weekend?”

“Sure. No problem. So guess what Claudia did?” I told him about Claudia, the fiberglass insulation and Nat’s underwear, and he had a hoot!

“Oh, Lord! You women are so crazy, wonderful, terrible! You make me feel like a college student! I couldn’t think of a nicer guy for that to happen to! Fabulous!”

We talked for a while about the settlement and about all sorts of other things and then about us.

“I’m becoming quite fond of you, Abigail, but you know that.”

“Yeah. Me too. It’s pretty incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. You make me wish I was building a house on Pawleys instead of Wadmalaw.”

“Well, you don’t have to build on Pawleys. There’s no room to build anyway. But I can always find you a place to stay, as long as you behave.”

I could see him smiling through the phone. What we had was so easy, so good and so natural. And finally, the timing was right.

We hung up and I drove a while longer, realizing I had passed the place where Ashley died, and for the first time I had not even noticed.
I had not even noticed!
Maybe it was Ashley or some piece of him telling me to move on with my life, that he had forgiven me. Perhaps he had seen the courtroom, what had transpired, and maybe it was because I had gone back to Rebecca’s house to help her even further—maybe all those things combined had earned me some reprieve. Maybe it was Ashley and John together. My heart ached for them then as it did every day, but somehow, from somewhere outside of me, I was feeling better. Not a lot better, but even to feel the slightest increase in ease of mind was monumental. Healing seemed to come in tiny increments of peace. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if coming to the aid of Rebecca had been cosmically instrumental in lifting the cloud of my own despair.

I thought again about Rebecca and me removing our makeup on national television, and I had to laugh to myself about it. I had always been so prissy and buttoned up tight, worrying that the black thing I was wearing matched another black thing I was wearing. How ridiculous! My priorities had certainly changed. The networks probably wouldn’t even run the tape. It didn’t matter. By that simple act of defying the entire beauty empire and castigating its worth, some chain of bondage was broken. In a peculiar way, I was empowered by it. Maybe I’d go buy a red sweater.