Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1 (46 page)

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Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank

Tags: #Fiction, #Domestic Fiction, #General, #Sagas, #Women - South Carolina, #South Carolina, #Mothers and Daughters, #Women, #Sisters, #Sullivan's Island (S.C. : Island), #Sullivan's Island (S.C.: Island)

BOOK: Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1
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“Guess so,” he said.

“Henry, this is the worst day of our lives, no doubt about it.

I love you, Henry.You know that, don’t you?”

“Guess so,” he said.

“Okay, wanna help me and Timmy? I mean, we all gotta

pitch in today.”

“Help you do what?” He looked up at me pitifully and my

throat buckled.

“About a million things. Come on.” I reached for him and

he took my hand and stood up. I gave him a hug and he ran for

the door.

“Timmy’s upstairs,” I called out.

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

309

He let the door slam. I thought to myself that we’d probably

let it slam over and over today and Livvie would say nothing

about it.

“You’re a good sister, Susan,” said Aunt Carol.

“Well, I try.”

I leaned over the banister, wanting to tell her what I thought

of her, what I had seen her do, blast her away. I fought to hold

my tongue. We needed Uncle Louis and I didn’t want to start

more trouble than we already had.

“This is so incredible, so awful,” she said. “How could God

take y’all’s grandmomma and daddy in one day? I just don’t

understand it.”

“Me neither. Momma’s a complete mess.”

“I would be too.”

“Guess we’re all gonna have to get jobs.”

“Uncle Louis will figure it out, don’t you worry. You’re still

a little girl, Susan. You shouldn’t have to worry about these

things. I’m gonna go help your momma.”

“Yeah, Dr. Whicket’s here to give her a shot. She ought to

be collapsing any second now.”

She gave me an odd look. What I’d said had the distinctive

ring of impudence to my aunt’s ears. On the other hand, what

she said had the ring of pure fantasy to me. Saying nothing

more, she left me quietly, alone on the porch. Alone to think.

Not worry, Aunt Carol? I have an aching inside of me that could

match the pain of any adult.
How would I cope? Was it my fault? I

wondered. Had I caused Grandma Sophie’s stroke when she

helped me to bed? Did the fight give Daddy a heart attack?

Would Momma wake up one day and blame us? If he had a

heart attack, were us kids responsible? Was it the Klan? Was it an

accident? Would the police be here, asking questions?

I wondered what Mr. Struthers thought. Maybe he thought

Timmy, Maggie and I caused Daddy’s death. If he were going to

have us all put in jail, we’d know soon enough. But it would be

hard to prove, I decided.

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D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

I started going down the list as I paced the floor. I’d encour-

age Timmy to shield Henry from the horrors of the funeral.

Timmy would help. It wasn’t Henry’s fault that Daddy was dead

or that Grandma Sophie had died. This could have a terrible

effect on him, I thought, he could start wetting the bed or

something. The twins would never know the difference, but

Henry could suffer forever.

Timmy would eventually feel guilty about being glad that

Daddy was dead. I’d get Maggie to keep an eye on Timmy. I

wasn’t exactly glad about Daddy, but sort of relieved to know he

wouldn’t be back.The last time I’d seen him he was screwing his

secretary. And at least the beatings would stop.

Grandma Sophie, well, she was another case entirely. Eccen-

tric. It was too bad she kicked the bucket, I thought, but, hell,

she wasn’t really living. Sitting in that room, stinking up the

place, running us around to wait on her, eating the same thing

every day, not talking.

I decided to go find Maggie. Maybe she could make me feel

better.Timmy was heading for the kitchen to heat up bottles for

Sophie Jr. and Allie.

“Thought you were gonna help me!” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be there in a minute. Promise. Just wanna check

on Maggie.”

“Okay.”

“Be right back!” I called back as I ran up the stairs. The

twins were crying and Henry was cooing to them like a daddy

pigeon. Let him deal with it for a few minutes, it won’t kill him,

I thought. Opening Maggie’s door, I stuck my head in. She was

lying in bed on her side, her knees drawn up to her stomach.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel like throwing up every two seconds.”

“You sick?”

“I don’t think so. Nerves. Susan, come in.Talk to me.”

“I told Timmy I’d help him with the twins. Gotta feed them,

you know.You need anything?”

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

311

“Yeah, a new identity.”

“Don’t we all? I’ll be right back as soon as they’re fed.”

In the twins’ room, Timmy picked up Allie and sat in the

rocker. I took a bottle, curled up with Sophie on the daybed,

tested the milk on my arm and stuck the nipple in her mouth.

She grabbed it, started sucking like a madwoman and looked up

at me, gratefully.What did she think? That we’d let her starve to

death?

I looked over at Henry, who was standing behind Timmy,

making faces at Allie and poking her tummy with his finger.Allie

giggled and spit out the nipple. I smiled and began to relax.We’d

be all right, I thought, we’d make it through this.

I looked down at Sophie’s eyelashes; she blinked as she

drank and her lashes swept her cheeks. My two little baby sisters

were precious. If I spent more time with them and less time try-

ing to figure out the grown-ups, I’d be better off.

“Hey, Henry!” I said.

“What?”

“Wanna feed Sophie?”

“Sure!” He bounced on the bed and reached out for her.

Carefully, I put her in his lap.

“Watch her head.And don’t drop her. Babies don’t bounce.”

“I know, I know. Jeesch!” Henry rolled his eyes at me and I

smiled.

“Hey, how’s Maggie?”Timmy asked.

“Barfed her guts out but I think she’s gonna live.”

“Well, thank God for that!”Timmy said.

“Yeah, around here, you never know,” I said, sliding off the

bed.“I’m gonna look in on her again. Be careful!” I pointed my

finger at Henry.

“Yes, Mother!” Henry teased.

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him like a hawk,”Timmy said.

“Be right back.”

Walking down the hall to Maggie’s room, I felt marginally

restored.We children were inside a ring, living in our own circle,

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D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

almost self-sufficient. We all loved each other, and each of us

could depend on that. And we still had Livvie.

The reality of the funeral hit me again. I couldn’t imagine

what it would be like to have my father and my grandmother in

caskets before my eyes. Maggie and I would figure out a plan to

get through it. I opened her bedroom door again. She was gone.

The bathroom door was closed. I put my ear next to it to listen.

I could just barely hear her, gagging and coughing. I almost

gagged myself. Poor Maggie. At last, I heard the water running

in the sink.

“Hey! You need me?”

“No, I’m okay.”

I opened the door anyway, barged in, and soaked a clean

washcloth with cold water.

“Brush your teeth and go lie down. Put this on your head,”

I said.

“God, I feel awful. Thanks.” She took the cloth and, hands

shaking, she put toothpaste on her toothbrush.

“I’ll bet. Think you have the flu or something? Your eyes are

glassy.”

“No. Just my stomach is so bad.”

“Well, today’s enough to make anybody sick.”

“Yeah.” She brushed her teeth while I waited, sitting on the

side of the tub.

“I wonder how Momma is,” I said.

“I went downstairs a little while ago. Would you believe

she’s sleeping in Sophie’s bed?”

“Gross me out! You’re kidding!”

“Nope, and Aunt Carol is in the kitchen with Livvie. I guess

they’re gonna be here for dinner.”

“Some lousy Thanksgiving this is gonna be,” I said.

She hit her toothbrush on the side of the sink a few times

and put it back in the holder. She looked in the mirror and held

back her hair. She swayed back and forth. “No lie. Speaking of

lousy, I look green!”

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

313

“You’d better get back in bed. I guess the wake will be

tomorrow or the day after. You’d better get well.”

“I’d rather stay home, if it’s okay with you.” She stumbled

toward her room and flopped down on her bed. I pulled her

spread and sheet up over her, then laid the cloth across her fore-

head.

“Oh, no. I don’t care if you have to wear a bucket around

your neck, you’re coming. No way am I going through this

without you.”

“I’ll be all right. Don’t worry, I’ll be better.”

“Why don’t you try to get a nap or something and I’ll go

change the twins. Then I’m gonna go help Livvie. Call me if

you need anything.”

I closed Maggie’s door and went back to the twins’ room.

Henry had Sophie up on his shoulder, hand poised to slap

her back.Timmy had Allie on his shoulder, his hand extended in

the same position.

“One, two, three!”
Slap!

“Whurp!” Both babies belched like lumberjacks.

“Hey! We’re having a burping contest! Listen to this!”

Timmy said.“Come on, Sophie. Let one rip!”

Sophie made a huge noise, more like a sailor than a three-

month-old baby.Timmy, Henry and I started laughing, loud and

long. It was good to laugh.

“Gimme that child, Henry!”

Still laughing, he handed her over to me and I put her on

the changing table.

“Ah, Susan! She’s my champ!” Henry said.

“You should’ve heard Allie! ‘Whurp!’ ”Timmy imitated.

We began laughing again.

“Uh-oh. She’s wet and you know what else she did too.

Yuck! Stinko! I’ll put her in the crib. Come on, Henry, let’s go

watch the Macy’s parade.”

“Poop!” Henry shrieked.“She pooped!”

“Thanks a lot!” I said.

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D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

“Poop! The whole room stinks like poop! Pretty soon the

whole house is gonna smell like poop! You’re gonna smell like

poop!”

“Henry Hamilton! Hush your mouth! Mr. Struthers will

hear you!”

“Who’s going to make him hush?”Timmy winked at me.

Oh, my God. The tigers had been unleashed. I needed to

talk to Livvie about the boys right away or they’d run around

like wild bandits getting into trouble.Then I thought, So what?

Let them run.

Fifteen

Thanksgiving 1999

}

E left a message on Simon’s answering machine. It

was exhilarating to hear his voice. He sounded

W exactly the same as he always had, mellow and

slightly amused. I hoped he would call us back.We left Maggie’s

number and mine.

The following Monday, Michelle Stoney called.The papers

were finally ready. I went to her office that afternoon. My hand

shook as I signed my name.

“Michelle, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve

done for Beth and me,” I said.

I got choked up and she handed me a tissue.“I know this is

hard,” she said.

“Yeah, but it’s the right thing. I know it is.”

“I’ll file them with the court next week and if it all goes

smoothly, as I expect it will, it will be final within the year.”

I put the pen down and blew my nose. We talked a little

more, shook hands and said good-bye.

316

D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k

“Call me if you need anything, Susan. I mean it.”

“Thank you. I will.”

I drove myself home and took a long walk around the Bat-

tery wall on the harbor. Laps of water splashed the sides of the

seawall.All the years with Tom crossed my mind in scenes, like a

home video. How my life had changed! But it was all right. I felt

good. I had another chance to rebuild my future and this time

I’d do an honest job with my heart.

As soon as the ink was dry on our papers, Tom called. I

guessed that we were both feeling kind of strange about the

official end of our relationship. It was the first time I’d spoken to

him since the hurricane. I wasn’t angry with him any longer. In

fact, once he agreed to the terms of our separation, I was grate-

ful to him. My heart had forgiven him.

His voice sounded odd and when I asked him what was

wrong he said, “Nothing. I just was wondering what you’re

doing for the holiday, that’s all.”

It seemed that Miss Natural High, his love goddess, had left

him again.This time she was off for a trek to Nepal to find her-

self and to dig for crystals in the Himalayas. He knew I would

find that hysterically funny and I thought he was telling me the

story to make me laugh. He was.

“Stop, no more,” I said, “my sides are killing me! This girl

leaves you so often I can’t keep track.”

“Like you always said, I need a revolving door,” he said.“So

what’s up?”

I told him I was cooking dinner for Maggie and her bunch.

“Well, the plan is to have Thanksgiving at my house and

Christmas at hers. It’s just us, although there was some noise

about Henry and his gang coming from Atlanta. I don’t know.”

“Gosh, that sounds nice,” he said.“Any special plans?”

“Just the usual trough frenzy—turkey, ham and the million

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