Hissy Fit (21 page)

I took a deep breath
of air and sank to the bottom of the lake. When I come up again, I promised myself, he’ll be gone. I considered trying to swim away, but where? The Jernigan dock was the only one on the cove. And my clothes were still up on the dock. I counted to twenty-five, and when it felt like my lungs would explode, I let myself bob back to the surface. But I kept my eyes closed.

“You can’t hold your breath any longer than that?” a voice asked.

I kept my eyes shut. “Go away.”

“I can still see you, you know,” Will said. “Even with your eyes closed, I can see you. That’s how it works.”

“Please go away.” I said it very nicely.

“Tell me something,” he said. “That thing you were doing out on the dock just now. Was that some kind of weird religious ritual?”

I opened one eye. He was sitting on the end of the dock, just a few feet away, dangling his toes in the water. I backpedaled away from him, wondering just how much he could see from there.

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you’ll go away right now and keep your mouth shut about what you just saw,” I said.

“You can keep your money,” Will said. “Nobody would believe what I just saw anyway.”

“And you’ll go away? Right now?” I opened the other eye.

He smiled. “Not just yet. I’m enjoying myself immensely. Great view out here.”

“You’re a pig,” I said.

“Probably. But a happy pig. Beautiful evening, huh? It cools right down out here on the water.”

It certainly did. My teeth were chattering and I was starting to shiver. And there were little fishies nibbling at my nether regions.

“Look. I’m really getting cold,” I said. “At least turn around so I can get out and get dressed.”

“Okay.” He turned his back to me. I swam over to the dock, climbed up the ladder and toweled myself off with my T-shirt before hastily climbing back into my clothes. The Lycra shorts were a bitch to pull on when you were still half wet.

I was tying my shoelaces when he turned around again.

“How did you get in here, anyway?” I demanded. “The gate was locked. And there’s a no trespassing sign.”

He fished in the pockets of his shorts and brought out a key.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Kyle Jernigan,” he said. “The family’s thinking about selling the place. And I’m thinking about buying.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Kyle? Tell me he’s not out here too.”

“Nah,” Will said. “I came alone. I don’t think your buddy Kyle likes nature. So how did you get in here? I’m assuming you no longer have membership privileges.”

I was shivering badly now. My hair was soaking wet and my clothes were damp. “None of your business.” I started down the dock. I just wanted to get in my car and get out of here.

“You walked over from the place next door, right?” Will asked, catching up with me. “The Bascomb place. I hear it’s going on the market too.”

I whirled around to face him. “Why would you be interested in a couple of falling-down old houses out here? Don’t you have enough on your plate with Mulberry Hill and the bra plant?”

“I like it out here. It’s nice and peaceful. Unspoiled. Anyway, if I don’t buy it, somebody else will. The Jernigans and Bascombs have a total of sixteen lots on this cove. That’s enough for a subdivision. With sidewalks and streetlights and all the trappings of town.”

“And what would you do with it if you bought it?”

“Nothing. Maybe fix up the houses a little bit. Put up a boathouse. And the dock needs some work.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all,” he said. “Anyway, why should you care what I do with my money?”

“I don’t,” I said. “But I do care about this cove. It’s special. I wouldn’t want to see it ruined.”

“I won’t ruin it,” he said, his face serious now. “Hey, you really are shivering.”

“I’ll be okay once I get in the car,” I said, heading back toward the Bascomb place.

“I’ve got the key to the cabin too,” Will said. “Come on inside with me. I’ll get you a towel. And there are probably dry clothes in the closets too.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

“You afraid A.J.’s hiding out in there? Gonna jump out of a closet or something? There’s nobody there, Keeley.”

“I’m not afraid of running into A.J.,” I snapped. But I really was cold and miserable. “I’ll just grab a towel and take off. I’ve got stuff to do back in town.”

I followed Will back toward the shack, but stopped when he got to the steps to the back porch. I was in no mood to confront the Hide-A-Bed.

“Let’s go around front,” I said, catching him by the elbow. “There’s a cedar chest in the living room where GiGi used to keep clean towels and sheets.”

He raised one eyebrow, but did as I suggested. The key fit in the lock, but the doorway was shrouded with a curtain of cobwebs and dead bugs, which I batted away. The door swung open, and I stepped inside before Will could, determined to show him that the Jernigans’ house held no demons for me. At least not in this part of the house.

Nobody had been here in a long time. The living room air was
stale, and there were more cobwebs and dead bugs. Sheets covered the furniture, and a fine film of dust covered the wooden floors.

“Not bad,” Will said, walking around the living room, raising the shades to let in some light.

The cedar chest was where it had always been, in front of the sofa. I opened it and found a stack of faded but clean beach towels. I took the top one and started drying my hair with it.

Will knelt down on the hearth and stuck his head into the fireplace. “Does this thing work?”

“It did,” I said. “We used to cook steaks in there. A.J.’s granddaddy Chub had the chimney built from granite quarried up in Tate. If you use the right kind of wood, that thing heats the whole room.”

“Sounds like you used to spend a good bit of time out here,” Will said, standing up and dusting his hands on the seat of his pants.

“Used to,” I said, emphasizing the past tense.

“So what were you doing out on the dock?” Will asked. “Seriously.”

“Just…thinking,” I said. “This is a good place to get away to. To be alone. Not many people know where the cove is. No boats come in, because it’s kind of shallow.”

That was as far as I was going to go. Will Mahoney had obviously already seen me naked. I didn’t feel the need to bare the rest of myself to him.

“I’m going now,” I said, heading for the front door.

“Wait.” He followed me out onto the front porch and locked the door behind us. Clouds had gathered overhead, and huge raindrops started to splatter around us.

“Come on,” he said, pointing toward the yellow Cadillac, which was parked over by the toolshed. “I’ll drive you back to your car.”

We ran for the car, and by the time we’d gotten in, I was glad to have the beach towel wrapped around my shoulders.

Will stopped at the gate and got out to unlock it. I slid over to the driver’s side and pulled the Caddy far enough forward for him to
lock the gate behind us, and then he got in on the passenger side.

“The Bascombs’ driveway is just up the road a little ways,” I told him. “Are you really thinking about buying both places? Wait till you see it. I know you like to fix things up, but Vince Bascomb has really let his place go. It’s pretty much a tear-down at this point.”

When we got there, Will stared out the rain-streaked car window at the Bascomb cabin. “Wow,” he said. “You weren’t kidding. Bascomb’s lawyer told me this was an ‘as-is’ deal, but he didn’t mention what a wreck the place is.”

“He probably didn’t know,” I said. “I don’t think anybody has been back in here for a long time. Vince is pretty much house-bound now, and his kids live out of state and have no interest in moving back to Madison.”

“What about his wife?” Will asked.

“Which one? He’s had three. Lorraine, who’s the mother of his children, is dead. The other two took off with what was left of Vince’s money.”

“I’d like to see the inside of the house,” Will said. “I don’t have a key, but from the look of things, I probably don’t need one anyway. Want to take a look?”

“No,” I said, shuddering.

“I thought you loved old houses.”

“This place isn’t all that old,” I pointed out. “It was all farmland until Georgia Power flooded it. Probably built around the same time as the Jernigan shack.”

“When was that?”

“Late seventies, early eighties.”

“Looks like the roof is gone anyway,” he said. “I’ll come back and take a look after I get back to town. When the weather’s better.”

“You’re leaving town? For how long?” I asked.

“Couple weeks,” he said. “I’ve got some meetings in New York, and I need to see some people in South Carolina and Alabama. And I’ve got to go back to Sri Lanka week after next. It’s actually a good
thing I ran into you today. What’s the schedule looking like for Mulberry Hill, now that the pump house is done?”

“I’ve got furniture ordered, but I can’t do too much else while the workmen are in the house. By the way, how did dinner go last night?”

“It went,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound so good.”

“It’s just…she’s pretty wrapped up in that law firm. Got a big real estate deal she’s working on. She’s a busy woman.”

“Is she seeing somebody else?”

“We didn’t get that far. I asked her to come over next weekend, but she said she has plans. Some big fund-raiser for the Humane Society. So I asked about the weekend after that, and she has plans for then, too. Her law firm is entertaining out-of-town clients.”

“But she liked the house, right?”

“I guess. It’s hard to tell with her.” He tapped his fingers on the Caddy’s dashboard. “I just wish we were farther along with the house. If she could see it, the way I do, the way it’s going to be.” He grabbed my arm. “You’re going to make deadline, right?”

I sighed. “If your guys make their deadlines, I should be able to make mine. Christmas, right?”

“What? No! Thanksgiving. I told you Thanksgiving.”

“You told me Christmas,” I said, clenching my teeth. “And even that’s a stretch.”

“So stretch it,” he said.

I pulled the Cadillac up as close as possible to my Volvo. “That’s impossible.”

“You’ll do it,” he said. “If you have any problems, need a check for anything while I’m gone, just call Nancy at the office. She can reach me anywhere.”

I opened the Cadillac door and got out.

“Thanksgiving,” he said, sliding back across the seat to the driver’s side.

I slammed the door right in his face.

Gloria glanced over
at me from her drawing board and laughed.

“What?” I asked, putting my colored pencil down.

“Your face,” she said. “I wish I had a camera. You were actually scowling down at that sketch you’ve been working on all morning. What’s wrong with it?”

I picked up another pencil and twirled it beween my fingertips. “I guess I’m frustrated. This is just so impossible. But Will wants it so badly, and I don’t want to let him down.”

She got up and walked over to my drawing board, looking over my shoulder at the sketch I’d been working on for the past hour. It was supposed to be the upstairs sitting room at Mulberry Hill. The room looked fine. I had the overstuffed sofas, the Aubusson carpet in soft greens and golds, the built-in bookshelves, and a huge antique Venetian mirror that set the tone for the whole room.

“What’s so impossible? Gloria asked. “It’s a wonderful room. Anybody would love it.”

“Not just anybody,” I corrected her. “Stephanie Scofield. She has to love it. She has to love it enough to want to give up her life in Atlanta and move right in.”

“Isn’t that Will’s department?” Gloria asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be wooing her?”

The old-fashioned word made me feel wistful. I wanted to be wooed. Maybe someday.

“He hasn’t seen her in more than two weeks,” I said. “He’s miserable. He even went so far as to drive over to Atlanta last night to take her to dinner in Buckhead. On a Tuesday night, when he had to be back at the plant for an early morning meeting. And he hates Atlanta. The man is totally smitten.”

Gloria patted my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do about that,” she reminded me. “Your job is to just design the project and get it done. Period.”

“He expects me to do more than that,” I said. “The poor fool thinks I can make her fall in love with this house, and then him.”

“Well, you can’t.” Gloria went over to the coffeepot and poured herself a mug. The smell of fresh-ground French roast filled the studio. She held up the pot toward me. “Want some?”

“It smells divine,” I said, but I shook my head no. “I wish I could make Stephanie really see the house. Experience it with all her senses. You know, like they tell you in marketing classes. You can’t sell the steak without the sizzle…”

“Maybe you should go over to the Wal-Mart and buy some of those strawberry-scented crayons they sell for the kids,” Gloria said, laughing.

“No strawberries,” I said, but that gave me an idea. I picked up my pencil again and started sketching. I put a beautiful petite blond in a flowing gold robe seated at a vanity in front of the Venetian mirror. Her back was to the room, but it would be clear who she was. Perched on an ottoman in between the sofas I drew a little brown and black dog. I tilted my head and considered, erased, and redrew. Yes. Now the dog was unquestionably a dachshund. A miniature dachshund.

I signed the corner of the sketch with a flourish. Done! I took it over to the photocopier and made two more copies. The original I put in the folder I’d send over to the Loving Cup plant for approval later in the day. I put one of the copies in our office file. The third copy I rolled tightly. I found a piece of gold silk moiré ribbon and tied it with a neat little bow. I slid the sketch into a mailing tube and headed out the door.

“Where are you going?” Gloria asked. “And why so happy?”

“I’m going to the post office to overnight the steak and the sizzle to Stephanie Scofield,” I told her.

It wasn’t even noon yet, but the day was already a scorcher. I
could feel the heat of the concrete sidewalks through the thin soles of my shoes. I dodged a couple cars and jaywalked across Washington Street, then cut around the old courthouse to get to the post office. There was only one clerk on duty, and four people in line ahead of me, but the arctic blast of the air conditioning felt heavenly. I bought some more stamps, choosing the Audrey Hepburn ones, and I was walking out the front door when I bumped smack into GiGi Jernigan.

Crap! Why hadn’t I just picked up the phone and called UPS to pick up the sketches for Stephanie? Why had I dawdled over the stamps? I should have just taken the damn flag stamps like everybody else. And why hadn’t I worn my dark sunglasses and a wig that morning?

“Keeley!” GiGi exclaimed, seizing me by both wrists. She looked immaculate, as always, her pale blond hair freshly colored and coiffed, her hot pink linen pantsuit miraculously unwrinkled, her Easy Spirit walking shoes unscuffed by life.

“Uh, hi, GiGi,” I said. “How are you?”

“Devastated,” she said. “Simply devastated. I may never get over this whole awful thing.”

She
was devastated? Wasn’t I the one who had been cheated on by her older son? Wasn’t I the one who’d spent weeks repacking and sending gifts back to Jernigan family and friends? Wasn’t my father the one who was out untold thousands of dollars for a wedding dress and sit-down reception with open bar for four hundred people? This was so like GiGi. My life had gone to shit, but she was the one doing all the suffering.

What do you say to something like that?

I had no idea. “I’m sorry,” was the best I could come up with on such short notice.

“I’ve tried and tried to talk to you,” GiGi went on. “But you never return my calls. And I’ve called for weeks. Didn’t you get my messages? Or the notes?”

In fact, I’d been dodging GiGi’s calls, and I’d tossed the handwritten notes she’d sent, unread, in the trash. And up until now, I’d managed to avoid seeing her, or any other members of her immediate family, through a combination of luck and planning. I never walked past Madison Mutual anymore. I took detours so I didn’t have to go near The Oaks, and I’d steered clear of the local shops or restaurants I knew GiGi haunted. The trip out to the shack had been my one foray into Jernigan country, and look how that had ended up. I’d had a case of the sniffles for three days after my swim in the lake.

“I’ve been pretty busy,” I said, wishing she would let go of my arms. “In fact, I’m on deadline on a big project right now.”

Tears welled up in her large blue-green eyes. They were A.J.’s eyes, down to the thick black lashes. “Too busy for me? Keeley, you’ve been like a daughter to me. I thought…I thought, since your own mother hasn’t been around…I remember the first time A.J. brought you home for dinner. You were wearing the prettiest flowered dress. So suitable. Keeley, my son brought home dozens of girls over the years. Beautiful girls, from fine families. But that night, when we were in bed, I turned to Drew, and I said, ‘She is the one. She is the one I want to see sitting in my parlor, opening presents on Christmas morning with the rest of the family.’ I said, ‘Drew, tomorrow, first thing, you open up the safe deposit box. Bring home the blue velvet box. The one with Grandmother Jernigan’s pearls in it. For our Keeley. She is the one who will bear our grandchildren.’ ”

“Grandchildren?” I yelped. She had probably picked out their gender and names too. If it hadn’t been for that one little hiccup of A.J.’s I might even be incubating little Andrew Jackson III right this minute.

“GiGi,” I started. But she cut me off again.

“Maybe I was fooling myself, to think we had a special bond.”

I had thought our special bond was that she had plenty of money and liked to spend it on redecorating her houses. And yes, I’d been fond of GiGi. But there had never, ever, been a time when I’d
thought of her as anything more than A.J.’s mother. I had a mother, thank you.

“GiGi, I’m not mad at you,” I started again.

“Well, why would you be?” She looked startled at the very notion. “This has all been a horrible, unbelievable misunderstanding. But as I told Drew, sometimes bad things happen for a reason. Now that things have settled down, we can look ahead. Sort things out.” She squeezed my hand. “Have a time for healing. Don’t you agree?”

“Healing what? You don’t seriously think I would ever take A.J. back—do you?”

She dropped my wrists and took a step backward. “Keeley, you need to look deep within yourself and think about things. A.J. has apologized to you. He told me so himself. The least you can do is meet him halfway. The boy has been half crazed with grief. It’s time, Keeley.”

Despite the sun beating down on my head, I suddenly felt icy cold. I had to laugh at the complete absurdity of this scene. This was downtown Madison. The middle of the day. People were peeking out of shop windows at the two of us. Two old ladies were hiding on the other side of the World War I doughboy monument, waiting to see what happened next, to see if that crazy Keeley Murdock was going to throw another hissy fit like the one they’d all heard about.

I didn’t intend to give them the satisfaction. But I also didn’t intend to let GiGi go on deluding herself about the possibility of my joining the family at The Oaks on Christmas morning, or of wearing Grandmother Jernigan’s pearls, or of breeding yet another generation of selfish, self-absorbed, two-timing, double-dealing brats with big blue-green eyes.

“GiGi,” I said. “Just so there are no further misunderstandings, let me fill you in on all the sordid details of the breakup between your son and me. I saw him, your son, my fiance, with my own eyes, that night at our rehearsal dinner. In the boardroom at the country club. He had his pants down around his ankles. My former best
friend and maid of honor, Paige Plummer, was with him. Her dress was hiked up around her waist. Her panties were off, and the two of them were going at it like a pair of barnyard animals.”

“OH!” She held her hand up to her cheek as though she’d just been slapped. “How dare you! I don’t believe it. A.J. would never.” She scuttled backward. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough now. “How dare you spread such filth about my son?”

Suddenly GiGi wasn’t as crazy to have me in the family anymore. She was halfway down the block. “Liar!” she screamed. “Liar, liar, liar!”

The old ladies behind the doughboy monument froze, goggle-eyed with a mixture of horror and amazement. What the hell? I decided to really give them their money’s worth.

“It’s all true,” I hollered after GiGi. “Sad but true. And if I were you, I’d have the backseat of that Escalade of yours steam-cleaned next time you go through the JiffyWash.”