Chapter Ten
Dinner at
Lili’s
was hardly the quiet, only-the-two-of-us evening that I had envisioned. Everyone from the owner to half the customers stopped to greet Mike, tell him how glad they were to see him, and ask how he was doing. In between, we managed to order house salads with that good blue cheese dressing and our favorite entrée, the veal piccata. We lingered over a second glass of wine but turned down dessert and coffee and hurried home to the girls. In the car, Mike confessed, “It makes me a little nervous to leave the girls with your mom. The three of them seem pretty defenseless.”
“Don’t underestimate the new Nana,” I replied, but I too was glad to be back home. We’d had our date night for the foreseeable future.
Sunday night supper with Otto Martin was a delight. I had decided to balance things out by inviting Mom, ignoring Mike’s gibes about matchmaking for her. Mom was far too sophisticated for Otto Martin, especially since she’d rebuilt her life these days. She was always well groomed, sort of like Claire, in outfits instead of the haphazardly thrown together things I wore. She kept her hair just lightly blonde and well cut. She was at the church all the time, but she also dined out at nice restaurants—
Lili’s
,
Nonna
Tata, Ellerbe, The Tavern,
Patrizio’s
. She had done what I prayed for—gotten a life for herself. We didn’t see her much, which was and wasn’t okay.
Mom brought an Italian cream cake—an elaborate affair of whipped cream, rum flavoring, coconut, and cream cheese that made Mike whisper to me, “She’s trying to make an impression on Otto.”
In truth, she wasn’t. These days I marveled at my mom. She had changed so much from the timid woman I’d moved out of her longtime home in Chicago. She was self-confident and an interesting conversationalist—both of which had been missing before.
I had warned Mike that José was taking over his neighborhood patrol, so he was prepared and appropriately gratified when José asked for advice, places and people he should know about, places he should particularly keep an eye on. They went off in a corner and talked quietly, though I heard Mike tell him about a couple of supposed crack houses he should keep an eye on and one house where he suspected there were too many unattached women who might just be running an illicit business. It made me wonder again about the neighborhood I was bringing my girls up in, but my corner of Fairmount seemed so safe and secure.
When Buck and Joanie arrived, Buck quickly took over the professional conversation, giving José all kinds of complicated advice about the neighborhood. The only sensible thing I heard was, “Watch for a battered green Nova and call me when you see it. Drive by here often.”
“I plan to walk a lot,” José said.
“You can’t walk this entire neighborhood.”
“No, but I can walk sections of it and keep my mike on.” José stood up for himself with surprising independence, and I silently cheered. Keisha poked me in the ribs and winked.
Joanie was Joanie, wrapped up in McKenzie, though she was sweet about letting the girls play with her and letting Maggie give her a
sippie
cup of milk and hold her on her lap. Then Joanie dropped her bombshell.
“I’m pregnant again, and this one is Buck’s baby.”
Buck smiled triumphantly and bragged, “This one’s gonna be a boy. You watch and see.” I was glad McKenzie wasn’t old enough to understand. She’d feel like a second-class citizen, and I hoped this new baby, boy or girl, wouldn’t overshadow her. We all congratulated them. Privately I thought Joanie was about to have her hands full with babies little more than two years apart.
While Keisha and I put out the buffet on the kitchen counter—another ham because the last one had actually been such a hit there was hardly any left for sandwiches, potato salad, cheese grits, and a relish platter for fresh vegetables—Mom and Otto were off in a corner. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Mom was laughing and Otto was talking, using his hands freely to illustrate whatever he was saying. So much for Otto being shy around women! Later Mom told me it was stories about clocks from the Black Forest in Germany. I couldn’t imagine what was funny about that, but I didn’t ask.
At dinner, talk turned to Tom
Lattimore’s
proposed shopping center. This was the first that Buck had heard of it, and he was immediately angry. “We can’t have that in this neighborhood. Mess up traffic something horrible, bring in outsiders, troublemakers.”
“I can’t imagine that troublemakers will shop at an upscale grocery,” I said mildly.
But he glared at me and answered, “They’ll be drawn to pick pockets, grab purses, even steal cars. It’s a petty thief ‘come and get it’ signal.”
I doubted it was that bad, but I was glad he was on our side.
Mom surprised me by asking, “What’s the plan to stop it?”
“The neighborhood association will meet next week—you should get an announcement any day—and we’ll need people to walk the neighborhood and get signatures on petitions.”
“I’ll do that,” Mom said quickly.
“Miss Cynthia, you will only do that in daylight hours,” Keisha said with an air of authority. “You ain’t
goin
’ out at night.”
“Evenings are when some of my neighbors are home,” Mom said. “They work all day.”
“I’ll go with you, Miss Cynthia,” Otto volunteered. I guess he had picked up Keisha’s name for Mom. “And I can walk Magnolia, or at least large parts of it. I know a lot of the merchants.”
“If you walk with me, Otto, I’ll go with you on Magnolia. We can even stop for lunch at some of the restaurants,” Mom said, and Mike threw an I-told-you-so look at me.
“I’ll walk some in the evenings,” Keisha said. “I know a handsome officer who will keep me safe.”
Buck jumped to his feet. “Hold on, he’s got more to do than escort you around the neighborhood!”
Keisha sighed. “I know that. I’ll just keep him on speed dial. I do that anyway.”
Mom’s Italian cream cake was the sensation of the evening, with everyone eating pieces far larger than they should have. I worried about the girls waking in the night with upset tummies, but there was no way I could stop them from eating the delicious concoction. I thought about talking to Mom about less rich desserts and then decided against it—she was doing what made her happy.
“Miss Cynthia,” Keisha said, affecting her best slow drawl, “you are sinful. This cake is sinful. And I love it. How about you, José?”
He raised his fork in appreciation.
Otto made a courtly bow. “Miss Cynthia, it is better than Black Forest cake and I never thought I would say anything good about Italy. You have charmed me.”
Mom smiled, almost a secretive smile, and said, “Thank you, Otto.”
Everyone left early—tomorrow was a business day. But their parting words mostly had to do with petitions. I’d call Jim Price in the morning and find out if they were ready. I promised to get them to everyone as soon as possible.
Keisha and José had brought Otto or I’m sure he would have insisted on seeing Mom home. Instead, Buck Conroy asked me, “Want me to follow your mama home?”
“I can get home by myself,” Mom said frostily.
“I’ll follow anyway. Just wait till we get McKenzie loaded.”
Mom stalked out the door and took off without waiting. I was standing in the front door and saw the green Nova across the street follow Mom without turning its lights on. Buck saw it too, and left Joanie and McKenzie standing on the curb as he raced after Bella’s car.
He was back in minutes. “She didn’t follow your mom. Saw me and turned off on back streets. At least she doesn’t know where your mom lives…yet.”
Mom, I thought, didn’t need another criminally insane person in her life. Now I had a new worry. Bella knew all about the whole family. Sooner or later, she’d figure out where Mom lived.
Dejectedly I went back inside the house. Mike had been sitting in his chair and missed the entire scene, but he sensed my mood. When he asked what was wrong, I told him about Bella’s aborted attempt to follow Mom.
“We’re getting you that handgun and signing you up for the course,” he said. “As for your mom, we can’t quarantine her…and she doesn’t have a garage, so her car is in plain sight. Maybe Keisha should move back in.”
“I can’t ask her, not with José in the picture.”
“Maybe she could stay with Claire. That’s a big house.”
He was grasping at straws in an effort to be helpful, but I knew Mom would never do that.
“We can get her a monitor to wear at home, like we got you, and tell her if she feels threatened to push the button—better safe than sorry. I’ll tell her about the green Nova and if she sees it tailing her, she’s to go straight to the police substation. It seems to me that one vengeful girl is causing us to make complicated plans—and we don’t even know if she’s dangerous.”
“Not a chance we can take. What if she changes cars?”
“Joe doesn’t think she will. Part of her strategy is to get on our nerves. She’s sort of playing chicken, showing us how close she can get without getting caught.” I was tired of talking about it and went to get the girls ready for bed.
****
The next day, after I picked Mike up at noon, he and I had a quick lunch at
Nonna
Tata, splitting a bowl of spaghetti
puttanesca
, and then I took him back to the substation. I checked in briefly with Keisha.
“Don’t know what this world’s coming to,” she muttered. “Just let me at that girl for ten minutes. She won’t bother you anymore.”
“You know you can’t do that—whatever it is you have in mind, and I don’t want to ask.”
“I’m getting me a knife in case she comes
bargin
’ in here some day. Don’t need a permit for that, and I know how to use it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to Mom’s. I need to warn her, tell her some precautions to take, just in case.”
“And scare that poor woman to death? I best move back in there.”
“What about José?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have to stay with Miss Cynthia every night.”
“Let’s see what happens.”
Mom wasn’t home. Frustrated I sat in her driveway for a bit, but I knew I couldn’t stay. I’d checked carefully to see that Bella wasn’t following me, but she could always just cruise the neighborhood and see me there. I went back to the office. Bella felt more and more like an albatross around my neck.
Back at the office I began to fret about Mom, and I called every few minutes to see if she was back home. She wasn’t.
“You going to wear that phone out?” Keisha asked.
“I’m worried about Mom.”
“Kelly, she’s a grown lady. She can take care of herself. She’s got more spirit than you know lately. She ain’t the same woman that moved down here a year ago.”
That didn’t comfort me.
Finally, on my eighth try, Mom answered, and I immediately demanded, “Where have you been?”
“Why, Kelly, what’s the matter dear?”
“Well, I …I was just looking for you.”
“Anything important? Are the girls all right?”
“They’re fine, Mom. Where were you?” This time my question was calmer.
“Well, you know, I have your grandmother’s clock—the old-fashioned chime one she went to school by.”
Did I know? When I was a kid it sat right outside my bedroom and chimed every fifteen minutes plus tolling out the hour—drove me crazy some nights.
“Well, I just thought that nice Mr. Martin might fix it for me, so I went by his shop. My goodness he has a lot of clocks in there. So interesting. He told me about some of them, who they’d belonged to, how old they were. I was just fascinated. Then he mentioned that he lived behind his shop and only had a hot plate, so of course I had to offer to cook for him tonight—why didn’t you tell me that before, Kelly? I went to the grocery store and got steak and potatoes. He said he’d walk, but I’ll pick him up.”
“Mom, then you’ll have to drive him back to his shop late at night.”
“It won’t be that late, Kelly, and it doesn’t bother me to drive at night.”
It bothered me for her to drive at night, a whole lot. “Mom, I’ve got to talk to you. It’s important.”
“Kelly, dear, can’t you wait until tomorrow? I have so much to do before I pick Otto up.”
I hung up and repeated the conversation to Keisha, who laughed and laughed. I knew Mike would do the same thing.
Mom was a head taller than Otto, for Pete’s sake! What was she thinking?
****
That night Mike used his walker and made it to the backyard via the ramp in front—a first. He threw the ball for the girls and Gus. As he always did, Gus caught it most of the time, but it was wonderful to watch Mike and the girls playing together again. Wonderful that is until Maggie pitched it back to him, a bit wide. He reached for it, lost his balance and fell on his bad leg.
Maggie screamed, I screamed, Em began to cry, and Gus ran over to lick Mike’s face.
“Shall I call 911?” I asked.
Mike’s face was pale, and he bit his lip as though in pain, but he said, “No. Don’t call anybody. Just let me be a minute and then see if you and the girls can get me upright again. That was a damn fool thing to do—on my part.”
