Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1 (47 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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mashed things we like. God, you’d think we can’t chew, with all

the creamed vegetables, right?”

“Yeah, it sounds wonderful.” A long silence. Then he said,

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

317

“Guess I’ll just go out to Morrison’s Cafeteria and eat with the

Lonely Hearts Club.”

“Oh, all right, you old pain in my behind. Do you want to

join us?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

He asked if he could bring anything and I said,“Yeah, bring

enough wine to float the
Queen Livvie
.”

T h a n ks g i v i n g D ay a r r i v e d and Simon still hadn’t called. I told

myself that he must’ve been out of town. Roger had sent me

flowers. I debated throwing them in the garbage but put them on

the coffee table instead. They were extraordinarily beautiful, too

fabulous to waste. Every time I looked at them my feet itched.

Maggie, Grant and the boys arrived and Tom pulled up in

the driveway at the same time. It took the males about twenty

seconds to turn on the football game, grab beers, Cokes and

potato chips and start making macho noises at the television. It

took another two seconds for the females to suck our teeth in

disgust and put on aprons.

Beth, Maggie and I were in the kitchen basting the bird and

finding counter space for all the casseroles of vegetables.

“This holiday always reminds me of Livvie,” Maggie said.“I

sure do miss her.”

“Yeah, Gawd, that’s for true!” I said.“Lawd have mercy! That

woman had us chopping
vegetubble,
’eah? Chopping and such till

we like to drop!”

“You sound just like her,” Maggie said.

Beth giggled.

“You know, every year I make rutabagas in her honor and

collard greens too. Remember how she used to get on us about

how we picked collards? ‘You gots to pull out every single vein

and put some vinegar to the pot water or he gone stink up the

whole house!’ God, was she great or what?”

“The greatest,” Maggie said. “She never gave up trying to

teach you to cook, did she?”

318

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

“Poor woman, I was hopeless,” I said.

“I got gypped not knowing her,” Beth said.

“Yeah, but you got your momma, and that’s just about the

next best thing,” Maggie said.

Everything was finally in a pot or an oven and Beth wanted

to go see a friend down the block.

“I’ll be back by three, come on, Mom! I swear!”

“Don’t swear, and take a sweater. It’s chilly. Dinner’s at four.”

I gave her a peck on the cheek and in a moment she was

gone out the back door. Maggie and I watched her disappear

around the side of the house.

“She’s so grown up,” Maggie said.“Where did the time go?”

“Seems like we ask that question more and more lately.” I put

the knives and the cutting boards in the sink and turned on the

faucet, squirting liquid soap over the whole mess, scrubbing away.

“Sure does.Where’s the butter? I’ll nuke some more to baste

the bird,” Maggie said.

“Second shelf, in the cheese thing.”

She found it, cut some squares into a bowl and covered

them in plastic wrap. I heard the door close, followed by the

programing beeps of my microwave oven, and I thought, here

we were, the older ones now. It made me pause and reflect.

“So, what’s up with Tom?” Maggie asked. “He seems so

subdued.”

“Oh, Maggie, who knows? He thinks he’s coming back

again, I guess, now that he and Miss Kama Sutra have broken up

again.”

“Well?”

“Oh, gimme a break. Our divorce is going through next

summer, I hope. I talked with Michelle last week and she said it’s

on the books for then. I can’t be with him anymore, you know?

No spark!”

“Whoa.Well, if there’s no fire to light, hang it up.”

“We’re practically like old war buddies or something at this

point.”

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

319

“That’s the best thing if you can handle it,” Maggie said.

“You know, considering Beth.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Did he say why he and what’s-her-face broke up?”

“She ran off somewhere, and I’m sure I’ll hear the details

before the day’s over. He gets sentimental around the holidays.”

“Most people do,” she said.

“By the way, I have to tell you that writing this column is

about the smartest thing I ever did that you told me to do, O

Excellent Sister of Mine.”

“Yeah, tell me what criminal act of genius I’ve committed

this time.”

“Well, it’s just that all the things you’ve told me to do, I’ve

done—and I really feel better about myself, you know?”

“Big sister is God.All-knowing, always right. How’s the col-

umn going?”

“Well, I was gonna wait until dinner to announce it, but

what the heck. Guess what?”

“Spill it!”

“It’s being picked up by the
Atlanta Journal!

“Ha! I can’t stand it! And do we earn a bit more in the

deal?”

“Yes, we do! And the
Miami Herald!

“Oh, my God! Susan, this is so wonderful! I told you you

were the best! Let’s celebrate!”

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white

wine. It was, after all, a holiday.We clinked our glasses and hugged.

“Well, I’m not the only licensed therapist in the family,” she

said.“I have to tell you about Grant and me.”

“Tell it, sugar. Gimme the butter and I’ll paint the turkey

again.”

“ ’Eah, watch your fingers.” She handed the hot dish to me.

“Well, after that big speech you gave me the day we were on the

beach—”

“What do you mean
speech?
Damn! This is hot!”

320

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

“It was a
good
speech, okay? I went home and thought about

it for days and then I decided to do something I’ve never done

with a man before.”

“Suck his toes?”

“Jesus! Now you’ve got me cursing!” Maggie said. “No! I

came clean with him. I called him at the hospital and I said,

‘Grant? There are a few things we need to talk about so we

know where we stand with each other. When are you coming

home?’ ”

“Oh, God! Did he get nervous or what?”

“No, I don’t think he had time to. I took out a good bottle

of wine, made spaghetti and salad with homemade croutons,

strawberry shortcake, and sent the boys to their friends for the

night. I had my hair done, charged three hundred dollars’ worth

of Chanel cosmetics to the American Express card and bought

an armload of flowers and some very sexy lingerie and mood

music on tape at Victoria’s Secret. I perfumed myself, the bed-

room, and changed the sheets.Then, I set the table with my best

everything and lit every candle in the house.When he walked in

I thought I’d have to give him oxygen! You should’ve seen his

face!”

“Oh, my God. Talk slow. I want to remember this. I might

need it someday.”

“Don’t write about it, okay?”

“Maggie, I’d never do that. I swear! Continue!”

“Okay. So! He said,‘What’s all this?’And, I said,‘ ’Eah Grant,

drink this and sit down. We have to talk.’ And he said, ‘What

about?’ I took a big gulp of wine and let it roll! I said, ‘Grant? I

thought for a long time that you were fooling around on me

and I even thought I had proof. I was so paranoid I couldn’t

stand it. I think a big part of this just might be my fault. I think

that if we understood each other a little better we’d be a lot hap-

pier.What do you think?’ ”

“This is good.Tell me more!”

“Well, at first, he waffled all around, saying, ‘Shoot, honey,

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

321

I think we’re the perfect couple!’ but I held my ground. I said,

‘Grant, listen ’eah. We’re no better than hamsters on a wheel.

You’re running and I’m running. I’m so bogged down with com-

mittee meetings and carpooling and you’re at work nine-tenths of

the time. How can we be the perfect couple when we never see

each other? Sure, we’re nice enough to each other and we do all

the right things on the surface, but there are things I’ve never even

talked to you about. You must have secrets you’d love to share

with someone. Dreams? I do.’ ”

“So what did he say?”

“Well, at first he just listened to me. I told him about things

I’d never told him, about old Lucius and how he broke my

heart, and about Daddy and how Daddy terrorized us all the

time. I had never told Grant any of that stuff. You have to

remember, he only knew Stanley.”

“Right, that’s right, God rest that sweet man’s soul.”

“Amen. Anyway, I told Grant I knew I hadn’t been loving

him right, and that, in fact, he hadn’t been loving me right, but

that it was probably because we didn’t know what the other one

really needed.You never knew his momma and daddy like I did,”

she said, “but they were pretty strict Baptists. When Grant con-

verted to the Church, they almost died and never really consid-

ered us family after that.That really hurt him, but I was too afraid

to say to him that he didn’t have to convert at all! I thought that if

we didn’t go to church together we wouldn’t really be a family. Is

that dumb or what? Oh, God, Susan, we talked about so much

stuff that we had bottled up for years! We stayed up all night.”

“So what else happened? I mean, I was away at college and

then when I came home I met Tom and that was that.You were

living in Savannah and pregnant.”

“That’s right. I was going through the setting-up-the-pa-

rameters part of my marriage and didn’t have a clue what it

meant! I mean, all these years, Grant never knew all the secrets I

carried. I was so ashamed that we were poor. I mean, we looked

so unsophisticated next to his family. Ridiculous, right?”

322

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

“Not really. You had the same problem with Lucius’s

mother, remember? She wanted him to marry a debutante

from Charleston, not a Catholic girl from Sullivan’s Island.

Remember?”

“Oh, dear Lord, you’re right! I did! And who wound up

coming back here and loving it when Grant decided to practice

here? I did! God, isn’t life funny?”

“It sure is.You can’t get the Geechee out of the girl.”

“True. Anyway, Grant and I spent a lot of time laughing at

our stupidity and Grant swears he never meant to hold out on

me. He thought I didn’t care about the lining of his soul. I told

him that I wanted to really and truly live for his love if he’d live

for mine.”

“So things have been good? Want some more wine?” I

poured myself another glass.

“Nah, thanks, I’ll wait for dinner.Yeah, things have been real

good. I really love him, Susan. I love our family and I don’t want

to shortchange it. I just knew it was time to tell him my whole

story. Like you said, if it heads south after that, it won’t be

because we didn’t give it an honest shake.”

“Damn, Maggie, this is great. I’m so proud of you. If I ever

fall in love again, I’m gonna come clean too.”

She threw her arm around my shoulder and gave me a good

squeeze.The front door closed and I knew Beth was back. It was

three o’clock on the nose and time to take the bird out of the

oven and put the casseroles in.We fussed around some more and

soon it was finally time to eat.

“Well, we’d better feed the Pilgrims before winter sets in,” I

said.

“I’ll call everyone,” Maggie said, leaving the room.

“Need any help?” Beth said and gave me a kiss on the

cheek.

“Perfect timing, missy, go wash your hands.”

We had enough food for a small battalion of starving sol-

diers, which turned out to be the correct amount, given the

S u l l i v a n ’ s I s l a n d

323

voracious appetites of Maggie’s boys and the men. Maggie and I

had cooked and baked for a week.As I looked over the pots and

casseroles, I was almost embarrassed by the excess. But by the

grace of God, I hadn’t burned anything.

I lit the candles on the dining room table and thought to

myself that it looked beautiful. My mixed collection of small

antique bowls held sweet pickles, artichoke relish, mustard and

mayonnaise. Maggie had brought over her straw cornucopia and

filled it with flowers and skewered vegetables.The table was set

for the seven of us and I decided to put Grant and Tom at the

ends. It might be the last time we celebrated a holiday with Tom

and I felt a generous spirit.

“All right, everyone, let’s sit down and bless the last Thanks-

giving of the millennium,” I said.

“Looks great, Aunt Susan,” Bucky said.

“Thanks, honey. Tom, why don’t you sit here? Would you

like to say grace?”

We gathered around the table and bowed our heads.

“Bless us, O Lord,” Tom prayed,“and these Thy gifts, which

we are about to receive, through Thy bounty, and Christ our

Lord.”

“Amen,” we responded together.

“And, Lord,” he said, his voice quavering, “please bless and

protect my family, especially my daughter and her mother, and

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