Read Tied to the Tracks Online
Authors: Rosina Lippi
Tied to the Tracks (44 page)
“All I need to know—”
“None in the house,” John said. If he mentioned gin in front of this audience the whole town would be talking about Lucy Ogilvie’s problem with alcohol before the day was out.
“Well, then, we’ll just go down to the market and stock up—”
“Tell your mama we said hey,” Harriet said in a stage whisper that could be heard a hundred yards away.
“Who is that talking, John?”
“Caroline’s sisters are here,” John said. “Waiting for her to call. They send their regards.”
“Oh, I see.” There was a pause. “I swear, don’t you get yourself in the strangest situations? I was just saying to Angie this morning—”
“Okay, then, see you later, Mama, the other line is ringing.”
“Now hold on, sugar. Is your baby brother there?”
“Sure,” John said, shooting Rob a warning look. “He’ll pick up in the other office.”
Rob made a face and headed out. John would have liked to keep his brother close by, but there was no denying Lucy. The five women in front of him, all meticulously groomed and expensively dressed, were supposed to be his family, considered him family already, and thus were his responsibility. A ripple of irritation at them and Caroline ran down his spine, and he realized he had broken into a sweat, although the air-conditioning was on high.
Connie was saying, “We won’t take long, we just want to know—” when the phone rang again.
“John Grant.”
“Hey.” Caroline’s voice came over the line, clear and calm. He looked at her sisters and aunt and thought of an examination board, a judge’s circle, a firing squad.
“Hey to you, too,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Caroline, right off, I want you to know all your sisters are standing right here waiting to talk to you. I think Harriet is about to chew her own knuckle off, she’s in such a state.”
Caroline made a small, hard sound. “Patty-Cake called them.”
“You guessed it.”
“I should have known. Put me on speakerphone, will you? So I can take care of this.”
He pushed the button, put the handset down, and crossed his arms. The Rose sisters came forward, Harriet and Pearl dropping into chairs.
“Caroline, baby, where are you?” said Connie. “We’ve been worried out of our minds.”
“You are getting married
tomorrow,
” Harriet said. “There’s a rehearsal and a dinner
tonight
.”
tomorrow,
” Harriet said. “There’s a rehearsal and a dinner
tonight
.”
“I’m on my way home right now,” Caroline said. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“But where have you been?” Harriet burst out. “I must have left fifty messages on your cell phone—”
“I needed to work through some things,” Caroline interrupted. “I’m fine now. I feel much better, really I do.”
Pearl said, “So the wedding is still on?”
Caroline said, “Did somebody tell you otherwise?”
“Well, no,” said Pearl, shooting her sisters a
help-me
look, “but—”
help-me
look, “but—”
“Did John say the wedding was off?” Caroline’s usual deferential tone was gone.
“No,” Eunice said. “Nobody said any such thing.” She met John’s gaze and he tried not to look panicked.
“Except Patty-Cake,” corrected Connie. At that moment John realized that Patty-Cake was gone. If nothing else, she had a keen sense of self-preservation.
Harriet said, “She’s been telling us you weren’t coming back, you ran away because of something John did.”
“Well, Patty-Cake is wrong, as usual,” Caroline said shortly. “Is she there? I’ll tell her so myself.”
“She was here—” Connie said, looking around.
“She lit out,” said Harriet.
“So you’re not canceling,” said Eunice. “Just to be clear, you’re not calling things off?”
“I am not calling things off,” Caroline said.
“What about John?” asked Harriet, trying not to look at him directly. “Is he calling things off?”
“Nothing has been called off,” said Caroline, her voice so clear and commanding that John wondered for a moment if it was really her, or if she had hired someone to make this phone call. Whoever was talking, he was glad that person was willing to spare him the lie Harriet wanted to hear.
Caroline said, “I’ll see y’all at Thomasina’s at seven for the rehearsal dinner, okay?”
“Um,” said Eunice, “so you won’t be at the rehearsal itself?”
“No,” said Caroline, “and neither will you. We don’t need to rehearse this wedding, we’ve done it four times already. Let’s just meet at the restaurant, okay? I’d like to spend some time with Mama when I get home, and then I’ll bring her and Uncle Bruce to Thomasina’s.”
There was a shocked silence, in which the four older Rose girls sent one another looks that needed no translations.
“Sugar, I have to say, you’re scaring me a little bit.” Pearl sent John a pleading look. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I’m sorry that I scared you,” Caroline said, more calmly. “I really am sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. But I’m asking y’all to help me now, and trust me. Will you do that?”
“Why, of course we will,” said Harriet, sounding a little shocked. “We’d do anything for you.”
“Anything,” echoed Connie and Pearl.
Eunice said, “I expect you want to talk to John alone, so we’ll just—”
“Wait,” said Harriet. “About your dress—”
“—go,” said Eunice firmly, taking Harriet by the elbow.
“We’ll see you at Thomasina’s,” said Connie, sounding doubtful.
“See you later, honey,” Pearl said. She gave John one last, hard look, and then she closed the door behind her.
“I hate speakerphones,” said Caroline when he had her on the handset again. And then: “Could you ask Rob to make sure Patty-Cake is in plain sight? I really don’t want her listening in.”
“Rob is dealing with Lucy on the other line,” John said. “But I saw Patty-Cake at her desk when your sisters went out. I think we’re okay.”
Very quietly Caroline said, “Your mama is going to be so angry with me.”
“No she won’t. Caroline,” he said, “right now my mother is the least of our worries. You want to tell me what’s going on? Because I’m sure confused.”
He could hear the sound of highway traffic and people’s voices in the background. A rest stop on the highway, a hundred miles away or a thousand, far enough that it was hard to get any real sense of her as she tried to pull words out the void.
Finally she said, “I’ve been a coward, and it’s caused you a lot of grief.”
“Caroline,” John said, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. “Save the
mea culpa
for Father Bruce, and tell me what the hell is going on. Just say it, whatever it is, and we’ll work it out.”
mea culpa
for Father Bruce, and tell me what the hell is going on. Just say it, whatever it is, and we’ll work it out.”
“I don’t want to get married,” Caroline said.
John heard himself make a sound like a balloon deflating. It was what he had been hoping for and dreading. He supposed he should ask a lot of questions, sound hurt or outraged, demand explanations, but nothing came to mind. He felt like a man who has spent a great deal of time and energy planning a jailbreak, only to find that the doors had been unlocked the whole time.
She was saying, “I know I owe you a long explanation and we need to talk this through in detail, but right now I’m hoping we can work together to make this as easy as possible—” Her voice trembled, and she stopped. “I’m really sorry. I really am, but this can’t be much of surprise, after all. Are you okay?”
“I took a letter up to the retreat house, the same day we dropped you off there. I’m assuming you didn’t get it.”
Caroline drew in a sharp breath. “It must have come after I left. They probably forwarded it home to Old Roses. Do you want to tell me about it now?
“Hell no,” John said, and he felt himself flush with embarrassment and irritation.
“That’s okay,” Caroline said. “I can pretty much guess what it said. So we’re in agreement, we’re not getting married tomorrow?”
John cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re in agreement. What comes next?”
“The hard part. I have to talk to Mama and Father Bruce before I—before we—make any announcements. I know I’m asking a lot, but could you keep this quiet until this evening? We could tell the families at the dinner, when we’ve got everyone together.”
“You’ve thought this through,” John said, feeling only vaguely more charitable toward her.
“I’ve had some time,” she said. “Before I go, I wanted to ask, how is Miss Zula? Are things going along okay with the documentary?” Her tone had shifted, and she spoke in a rush. “Tony and Angie and Rivera, are they getting the help they need?”
“They seem to be,” John said slowly, suddenly on guard again, trying to make sense of the change in subject. Maybe she did know about Angie; maybe she was going to slam him with that after all, and then he would have to find the words to explain how all this had come to pass.
She was saying, “Because Miss Zula did ask me to work with them, and then I just disappeared.”
“As far as I know everything is going fine,” John said. “I can’t say I’m very comfortable with some of the topics they’re pursuing—”
“Like what?” She sounded more than interested; she sounded as if she needed to hear more.
“Well, Angie and Rivera came up with the theory that Miss Zula . . .” He paused. “It will sound crazy.”
“John, right now not much could surprise me,” Caroline said. “Go ahead.”
“They think Miss Zula has had a lifelong affection for Anabel Spate.” There was a short pause. “Caroline?”
“They want to out Miss Zula?”
John’s voice caught. “Are you telling me that Miss Zula has been in love with her brother’s first wife for what, fifty years? She told you this?”
“Of course not,” Caroline said. “Miss Zula would never tell me something so personal.”
“She wouldn’t tell you, but she would tell a documentary film company?”
“My sense is, she’s ready to have the story told.”
“That seems like a stretch to me.”
“You don’t know her as well as I do. And there’s something else. She’s got some kind of wager going with Miss Maddie and it has to do with Tied to the Tracks. My guess is that it has to do with how long it takes Angie and Rivera to figure out the mystery on their own.”
John was silent for a moment. “I still don’t see how you come to the conclusion that Miss Zula and Miss Anabel . . .” He stopped, because Caroline had hiccupped a laugh.
“I’ve seen Miss Zula with Miss Anabel many times, John, and I’m not blind. She looks at Anabel the way you look at Angie.”
For a long moment John thought he’d lost his voice for good. Then Caroline said, “John, don’t worry. I am fine with this. With all of it. Miss Zula and Tied to the Tracks will work things out between them, and you and Angie—you’ll work that out, too. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”
And then she was gone. John still held the cool plastic of the receiver against his ear. It was as empty as a seashell, filled with nothing but echoes.
NINETEEN
I have read all Miss Zula’s stories and books and essays, and for years I have been trying to get a discussion group going so we could talk to her about them, but she will have none of it. I am surprised she ever agreed to this documentary business, she is such a private person. The only way I can explain it to myself is, there must be some story she wants told she can’t tell herself.
Your name:
Annie Lord. I am the head librarian at the Ogilvie Free Library, where this memory book was first kept and where it should still be, in my opinion.
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