Read Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1 Online
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)
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,
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“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?”
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“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.”
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“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!”
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“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,
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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?”
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“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
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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