Porch Lights (23 page)

“I can’t believe I sat here and ate all this food and didn’t even see that you have transformed yourself into a beauty queen! Annie Britt! What have you done to yourself? You look fabulous!”

“Doesn’t she?” I said and smiled.

“I think she looks great too!” Steve said.

“Humph,” Dad said. “Annie can go get all the haircuts in the world, but at the end of the day she’s still fifty-eight years old.”

Silence.

“That wasn’t nice,” Mom said and got up. “A lady never reveals her age. It’s not even necessarily in her obituary. I’ll be in my room.”

More silence.

“What’d I say that was so terrible?”

“Oh, Dad,” I said. This was what Mom was talking about when she said Dad could be sarcastic and insensitive. “It was going so well.”

“I don’t get it,” Dad said.

Deb looked around and then said, “I’ll go talk to her.” She left the table.

Steve looked from my face to Dad’s and back to mine. “Wow! Nine o’clock already? I’d better get the dogs home and settled in for the night. I’ve got to be at the hospital by seven tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you out,” I said.

We stood at the screen door on the porch for a minute. The dogs were antsy to get outside, so Steve opened the door and they bounded across our yard to his and sat at his door, waiting. They had acquired a new habit.

Suddenly the paper lanterns seemed out of place, and it made me a little sad. Things had not gone as I had hoped.

“My old man sure knows how to clear a room, doesn’t he?” I said, hoping he wouldn’t think ill of us.

“He just wasn’t thinking,” Steve said. “But I’m pretty sure he hurt your mom’s feelings.”

“Yeah. You’re definitely right about that. I’ve been gone for a long time, and I guess I never realized that he really did things like that. Mom always said he was insulting, but I never believed her.”

“Hmmm. What’s up with them? Are they divorced or separated or what?”

“Well, they’ve never done anything legal. I think, you know, the time apart has been mostly a good thing for both of them. But it looks to me like Mom fixed herself up for him and then he shot her down even though—”

“He still loves her,” Steve said.

“Exactly. And I think she still loves him. They’re grown-ups. They’ll have to work it out. Anyway, please let us know if you find out anything about Vernon.”

“I will. What a beautiful night! Looks like that Arlene finally blew out to sea.”

“Yeah, well, I got another storm brewing in the house.”

“Yeah, you do. Thanks for dinner. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Thanks for cooking,” I said. “Good night.”

Steve Plofker was growing on me.

I went back inside. Dad was washing the dishes with Miss Deb. She handed her dishcloth to me and I began to dry and she went looking for her purse. She said good night to us, but Dad insisted on walking her to her door. One minute he was a prince, the ideal grandfather, and then without warning he opened his mouth and out popped the Devil. I just didn’t know what to say to him.

Dad decided to stay for the night on the pretense that he wanted to make things right with Mom in the morning. I agreed, pointing out that in addition, it was dark on Highway 17 and it was getting late. I directed him to Charlie’s room, since we had a vacancy for the night. Soon the house was quiet. Order had been restored, Dad was snoring evenly, Mom did not resurface, and Charlie was safe at his friends’ house. My last thought before I drifted off to sleep was that if Mom and Dad ever lost each other before they resolved their issues, they’d sure have an awful lot of regrets.

Chapter 12

. . . we had fairly unearthed an oblong chest of wood . . . three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. . . . a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us.

—Edgar Allan Poe, “The Gold-Bug”

Annie

I
t was early morning, and the skies were clear and blue. When storms turned out to sea, the Lowcountry looked washed clean, as though the good Lord was giving all us sinners another chance for redemption. I didn’t feel the need for another chance, but I knew somebody who did—the wild animal that was snoring like every hog in hell on the other side of the house. Jackie snored like a lady hog, Charlie snored like a baby lamb, and Papa Bear? I recognized Papa Bear’s unforgettable refrain. Maybe I should have the ductwork cleaned. There was definitely something off kilter on that side of the house, because I’m sure I never snored.

The kitchen, by the way, glistened from a thorough scouring, and all the garbage had been taken out. Lucky for him. Well, even though Buster had shown very badly last night, it surely had been wonderful to have everyone around the table. That’s what my life lacked. My family and friends around my table. And I needed more fun.

I was dressed in my walking clothes because my plan was to get out of the house before the old bastard got up expecting waffles and eggs. I called Deb’s house and got their voice mail. Then I called her cell phone and got voice mail again. That wasn’t right. The hair on the back of my neck stood up on end, and a chill ran through my body. I began to panic because my instincts told me something was dreadfully wrong. I grabbed my purse, ran down the back steps, and jumped into my car, headed for East Cooper Hospital.

I drove there as fast as I could with the single purpose of getting there on time. On time for what? I knew for what. I could feel Deb’s terrible pain before I even got there. I could hear her in my mind praying for mercy. I begged God to change things but I knew in my heart that the worst had already happened. I knew it even before I pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of my car, and ran to the main entrance.

She had said he was in the ICU. I found its location on the information board and barely got onto the elevator as the heavy doors were closing. I could feel my heart slamming against my ribs, and I was out of breath. Upstairs, I saw Steve in the hall with his arm around Deb and Deb’s shoulders were heaving. I ran to her side.

“Oh, God! Deb? What’s happened?”

“He’s
gone
, Annie. Vernon is dead.”

“Oh, my poor dear friend! I am so, so sorry!” I put my arms around her, and she wept and sighed and wept and I wept with her. “Tell me what happened. Please, tell me what happened.”

Steve ran his hands up and down his cheeks and sighed deeply. “He had what they call the widow maker. Even though all his tests were clear, he had a sudden rupture of plaque in his arteries which caused a massive heart attack. They tried
everything
to revive him, but unfortunately, the doctors couldn’t. It was the same thing that killed Tim Russert.”

“Oh, God. I remember that. This is so unfair. Just so unfair.”

“He was getting dressed to come home,” Deb said. “He was coming home, Annie.” She began to sob.

I had never seen my friend in such a state of distress. I was distressed too. I’d loved old Vernon, even though he rarely left his La-Z-Boy to be with us for a meal or a movie. He was less like the big, brawny, can-do husband and more like Deb’s personal, very lovable, big old pussycat. I had known him for as long as I’d known her, and because Deb and I saw each other every day, I knew everything about him. I still could not comprehend that I was standing there in the hall of the ICU reeling from the news of Vernon’s death because death was incomprehensible anyway. And Deb was just a complete emotional wreck.

“How can this be?” she kept asking over and over.

“I don’t know, darlin’. I just don’t know,” I said. What else could I say?

I turned to see Buster and Jackie standing there. One by one, they scooped Deb into their arms and hugged her. I heard Buster say, “Oh, my sweet friend, I’m so sorry.” And our poor Jackie, well, Jackie knew Deb’s pain better than she ever would have wanted to know it.

Steve turned to me. “I called your house right before you got here. Jackie answered the phone and said you weren’t home. How did
you know
to come?”

“If I told you, you’d never believe me.”

“Try me,” he said.

“Okay. I could hear Deb wailing—in my head. This is the Lowcountry, Steve. That’s how life goes around here.”

“You’re
that
connected?”

“No, we’re
all
that connected if you know how to listen.”

“I’d love to learn,” he said.

“I don’t think there’s anything to teach. You just have to tune in and listen.”

I drove Deb back to her house but only after the head nurse gave her a few minutes alone in the room with Vernon’s body. There was nothing I had ever seen more profoundly sad than watching Deb, my friend of over thirty years, lean over her husband’s lifeless body, push his hair away from his forehead, and kiss him there with all the tenderness any woman could possibly have. The only thing more gut-wrenching was remembering the day I’d watched my daughter do the same thing. Deb did not know yet where her heart was headed. I did. Jackie did. But few would unless they had lived through the experience themselves. It was just so horribly sad.

Steve had to do rounds at the hospital and go to his office and see patients, but he promised to check on us as soon as he could. So I gathered Deb’s things up and threw my arm around her shoulder, and we left in my car. Buster and Jackie were right behind us, Buster driving Deb’s car and Jackie in hers.

I turned off the radio. This was no time for music. Not yet. Not even Michael Bublé. It was time to try and shore Deb up, because there was a lot to be done and I knew I would be the one to see her through. In fact, I
wanted
to be the one.

“So, Deb? I don’t want you to worry. I’m going to be right by your side every step of the way, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“You up for a few questions?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want me to make phone calls?”

“God, yes. I don’t think I can do that. Not right now.”

“It’s okay. Just give me your address book. Jackie and I can take care of that.”

She nodded and again said, “Thanks.”

“And do you have a preference of Stuhr’s or McAlister’s?” They were the two most popular funeral directors in town.

“McAlister’s, I guess. But it doesn’t matter really.”

“I’ll see who’s free. And do you know if Vernon had a will and life insurance?”

“Yes, there’s a will and there’s life insurance. The originals are in the safety deposit box at the bank, but I have copies at home.”

“That’s good enough. And would you like me to call the rectory at Stella Maris to arrange a funeral Mass?”

“I think Vernon would have loved that. But everything he wanted is spelled out in his will. You know Vernon. Or
knew
him, I guess I should say now. He has been waiting to die for years. He bought our plots at Mount Pleasant Memorial to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary.”

We had a small gallows humor chuckle then.

“Yeah, God, that was Vernon all right,” I said. “A practical man if ever there was one.”

“Well, it wasn’t very romantic. He was a good man, but not very romantic,” she said and sighed from the bottom of her soul. “I’m so tired I could sleep for a week.”

“That’s why I’m asking you these things now. I’ll get the ball rolling, and you get a nap. By tonight your house will be crawling with people. Where’s your sister?”

“Hawaii. You know, we still aren’t speaking. We haven’t really spoken since Momma’s funeral.”

“Well, you and I both know she shouldn’t have grabbed that amethyst ring for herself. It was supposed to be yours.” I’d heard the story of the ring a hundred times. “People are so greedy. They forget it’s a serious sin to take something that doesn’t belong to them.”

“It’s called stealing. That ring will never make her happy.”

“Let’s hope. Should I call her?”

“Sure. But she won’t come.”

“Yeah, but she’s your only sister. She should be told.”

“Whatever you say. You’re more of a sister than she ever was. Oh, Annie. I can hardly even think right now. I can’t believe he’s gone. I mean, just like
that
!”

“I know. I know. That’s why I’m here. It’s too terrible.”

We arrived at her home, and Buster hurried over to help her out of the car, up the steps, and into her house. Deb wasn’t even sixty, but on that morning she was moving like she was one hundred years old.

We went directly to her room. She handed me an accordion folder from a shelf in her bedroom closet. “The will, the insurance policy, and the deed for the cemetery plot are all in there. And here’s my address book. The library and faculty list is in the back. I’m just going to shut my eyes for a few minutes.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll come and ask you if I need anything. For now, you just rest.”

She climbed into bed. I turned on her ceiling fan, closed her blinds, and pulled the door quietly behind me. I went to the kitchen, where Buster and Jackie were standing by the sink.

“What can I do to help?” Jackie asked.

“Get an inventory of the liquor and wine and mixers. You know people on this island drink like all forty. Make a list, and then maybe you’ll go to the store, Buster?”