Queen of Broken Hearts (18 page)

“Austin's new hours will take some adjustment, but you'll do fine, wait and see.”

“If not,” Jasmine offers, “your mom's a shrink. She'll straighten all of you out. Right?”

With a laugh, I pat her arm fondly. “If not, I'll send Etta over to do the job instead.”

“There's a scary thought,” Jasmine says with a shudder. “Mama doesn't take any crap off anyone. She's always on my case.”

“A mama's prerogative, my dear. I'm the same with Haley.”

Haley shakes her head. “Not true. You've been the perfect mother from day one. The best thing that's happened in my life, without a doubt.”

Startled, I blush and say lightly, “Goodness, sweetheart. I thought that honor belonged to Mr. Perfect.”

Jasmine winks at me. “Ranking above Mr. Perfect! Now, that's something. You'd better be flattered.”

“I'm not only flattered, I'm stunned,” I agree. Haley takes a lot of teasing among her girlfriends for the way she dotes on her husband, even after several years of marriage and two children. She and Austin met in her first year of college, when she fell hard and fast for him and never dated anyone else, reminding me of how it had been with me and Mack. When she called to tell us that she'd found the perfect man, my first thought was: Uh-oh. On meeting this paragon, though, I had to admit she'd come close. Bright, handsome, and witty, Austin Jordan is also an idealist dedicated to helping students with learning disabilities. Although Haley joins her female colleagues in the popular sport of male-bashing, she's mainly talk.

“I never said Austin was perfect,” Haley protests. “How could he be, considering his gender?”

Jasmine snorts. “Or the way I put it, he's got one, doesn't he?”

Haley's silver-gray eyes are soft as she regards me thoughtfully. “Okay, let me amend the perfect-mother pronouncement, then.”

“Watch out,” Jasmine says. “You're about to take a nosedive, Aunt Clare. Told you no one could compete with Mr. Perfect.”

“I can't allow you to outrank Austin until we see more of you, Mom,” Haley says with a frown. “Abbie misses her grams bad, and I haven't seen you in over a month.”

“I know, I know.” I sigh. “That's part of the reason I'm here. To see you—and Jasmine, of course.” We raise our glasses, touch them, and smile at one another. “And to arrange a time to visit the kids. When I leave here, I'm going to Dory's, but I'd like to come by your house afterward, if that's okay. I know it's a school night, but I don't think I can wait till this weekend to see the kids. I'll read them a bedtime story and be on my way.”

“They'll be thrilled to see you. I can't wait to tell them.” Haley studies me over the salted rim of her margarita glass. “On top of everything else, you've been hard at work getting things lined up for the new retreat site, haven't you? Gramma Zoe told me that you and your Yankee boyfriend were at the Landing Saturday, planning for the remodeling. That's so exciting!”

Jasmine's dark eyes dance playfully. “I didn't even know you had a new boyfriend until Gramma Zoe told us. About time, and he's
cute,
too. I like big men, myself. More to love.”

“You like any kind of man, girlfriend,” Haley says dryly.

“You both know better than to listen to Zoe Catherine,” I say. “I've told her and everyone else that nothing's going on with Lex and me.”

Haley smiles mischievously, nudging Jasmine with her elbow. “Rye is going to be so jealous, Mom, you with a new boyfriend. Right, Jazz?”

“Oh, you two!” I put a hand over my eyes. “Don't start on poor Rye again, please.”

Haley and Austin, and now Jasmine, have picked up where Mack left off, teasing me about Rye. All during our marriage, Mack insisted his cousin was in love with me. It didn't help that Rye never got around to marrying, in spite of being one of the most eligible bachelors in the area and having an endless string of beautiful girlfriends. I tried in vain to convince Mack that it wasn't me Rye was in love with, it was Dory, but Mack didn't believe it. After Mack died, Rye fell rather naturally into the role of my escort, so everyone assumed we'd end up together eventually.

Haley turns to Jasmine, eyes gleaming wickedly. “Hey, did I tell you about the time Austin and I dropped in on Mom late one night on our way home from the movies?”

“I hope you learned to knock next time,” I tell her tartly.

“Oh, goody! I can't wait to hear this,” Jasmine cries.

“Because Rye's car was parked out front, we knew Mom would still be up,” Haley says with a chuckle. “So Austin and I go barging in and catch my
mother
and my dad's cousin in a compromising embrace! Austin said it's a good thing we weren't a few minutes later.”

I look at Jasmine and shake my head in denial. “That's absolutely ridiculous, and Haley knows it. Rye was teaching me to tango.”

“Tango, smango,” Jasmine hoots. “Sounds to me like he was teaching you to shag.”

The two of them laugh so loud that other patrons glance our way to see what's causing such hilarity. “Not funny,” I say, pointing a finger at Jasmine. “I'm telling your mother on you, young lady.”

“One thing you can say about Rye,” Haley says, looking around but lowering her voice so as not to be heard by all of Fairhope, “at least he believes in keeping it in the family.”

“Hey, you should marry him, Aunt Clare. You wouldn't even have to change your name,” Jasmine adds.

Haley leans toward me. “But best of all, you've inspired a new joke for our book. Don't you think this makes the new one more appropriate, Jazz?”

“Oh, God,” I say with a groan. “Why does hearing that make my blood run cold?”

As their contribution to the first divorce-recovery retreat I held, Haley and Jasmine made a booklet that they called “The Lighter Side of Divorce,” xeroxing copies to give out to the participants. I'd been hesitant; even though it was cute and funny, I wasn't sure how the participants would react to it. I'd ended up putting the booklets in a basket with a sign inviting them to take one if and when they needed a touch of humor. I was stunned when the booklets were such a hit that Haley and Jasmine couldn't turn them out fast enough. Everybody wanted copies for their friends, and Haley and Jasmine were currently in discussion with a local press about publication. The booklet contained anecdotes and lists that Haley and Jasmine made up, in addition to the divorce jokes they were always adding.

Haley goes on, oblivious to my glare. “Listen to this one, Mom: ‘If you get a divorce in Alabama, are you still cousins?'”

Their laugh is more subdued this time, but my face flushes when I notice several people glance our way again. I hiss at Haley, “People can hear us, and they'll know who we're talking about.”

“You sound a little paranoid to me, Doctor,” she replies.

“Oh, really? How many men in Fairhope are named Rye?”

She holds her hands up in resignation. “Okay, okay—I can always tell when I've pushed you too far. Besides, since you've got a new boyfriend, the one who shall remain unnamed is out of the picture anyway. Right?”

“Wrong on both counts, Miss Priss. I don't have a new boyfriend, and I still do things with you-know-who when I can. For my last mental health break, he took me dancing.”

“Dancing or shagging?” Jasmine asks.

Try as I may, I'm unable to maintain my scowl, and I end up laughing with them. “Now you girls see why I haven't been here in so long.”

Haley says, “Time to move on to other gossip—bet Mom hasn't heard about you and Tommy.”

“How could she?” Jasmine snaps. “There's nothing to hear.”

“Uh-oh, do I detect a love interest?” I ask.

“Ask Jazz how she knows your buddy Lex Yarbrough, Mom, and where she's seen him to know that he's cute.” Haley takes a sip of her margarita, licks salt off her lips, then says, “Jazz has started spending a lot of time at the marina. She's decided she wants to buy a boat.”

“A boat? Really, Jasmine? What kind of boat?” I'm surprised to hear this, since she's never been particularly interested in boating that I know of. Plus, like most teachers, she has a very limited budget.

Jasmine covers her eyes with her hands. “Don't listen to her.”

“Oh, she doesn't care what kind of boat it is as long as she can keep it at the marina,” Haley goes on. “Then she'll have an excuse to see Tommy. Not that she could miss him.”

It takes me a minute to know who she's talking about, and I stare in surprise. “You don't mean Tommy McNair, do you?”

Haley nods, grinning, and Jasmine says, “Haley's gotten it in her head that I'm interested in Tommy, but it's not true. I just think he's nice, is all.”

Haley's gray eyes sparkle. “Here's how it happened, Mom. A couple of weeks ago, Jasmine was at the waterfront, bar-hopping, and her car wouldn't crank. So Tommy McNair came out, and being a big old macho guy, he tried to fix it. Of course, it's such a piece of crap that he couldn't, so he ended up giving Jazz a ride to her apartment. Since then they've been talking on the phone a lot. Plus, Jazz suddenly develops an interest in boats and has gone by the marina several times, pretending she's thinking of buying one.”

“They don't sell boats at the marina,” I remind her.

“True, but they have all kinds docked there, and folks go to look at them, see which kind they like best, right?”

Jasmine pokes at her margarita with the straw. “Daddy's always wanted a boat. Maybe I'll win the lottery and buy him one. I can't help it that Tommy McNair works at the marina.”

Haley looks pleased. “See! Told you, didn't I? Jasmine's got the hots for Tommy! Why else would she take such an interest in boats?”

“Didn't Tommy go to high school with y'all?” I remember him from various school functions, but as Haley said, he'd be hard to miss. He worked for the previous marina owner as a dockhand, and when Lex took over, he kept Tommy on. The only thing that concerned Lex was Tommy's weight, though it didn't affect his work as Lex had feared. Although a sweet-natured and overly polite young man, Tommy is so overweight that he's the brunt of jokes around town, with folks calling him Tommy the Ton of Fun, among other uncharitable things. I pray that isn't the basis of Jasmine's attraction to him. She's always struggled with her weight and has a really poor self-image as a result. Consequently, most of her boyfriends have been what Haley refers to as losers, but only when she's being charitable. When Jasmine was younger, Etta put her on every diet imaginable, even sending her to pricey summer camps for overweight teens that Jasmine called her fat camps. She'd lose weight for a while only to put it right back on, which would plunge her into depression and cause her to eat more. She's such a lovely girl, with her rich dark skin and almond-shaped eyes, but she sees herself as too heavy to be attractive, and it has impacted her whole life.

“Besides, I couldn't go out with Tommy McNair even if I wanted to,” Jasmine tells us, tilting her glass to get out the last drops of her margarita. “Daddy wouldn't let me.”

Haley laughs. “That's crazy. You're almost thirty years old. Your daddy doesn't tell you who you can go out with.”

“You know how he is,” she retorts. “He would have a fit if I dated a white guy.”

“Jasmine,” I say with a sharp intake of my breath. “That's ridiculous. I've known your daddy for years, and he's not a bigot.”

“Oh, yes he is when it comes to me and my sisters. He's always told us that we'd better not even
think
about going out with white men. Claims it would cause us too much heartache.”

I lean back in my chair and study her. “That's not bigotry, hon. That's just a father wanting to protect his beloved girls.” The truth is, there's something to what Jasmine's saying. R.J.'s overprotectiveness has been lamented for years by Jasmine, her sisters, and Etta.

“Like only white guys cause heartaches.” Haley tosses her head. “Gimme a break. All men do. It's in their genes. Get it?”

“I'm through with men, myself,” Jasmine says with what sounds like genuine sadness. “Come on, Aunt Clare, admit it. Most of your clients come to you because the men in their lives turn out to be shits, right?”

“Ah, no, I wouldn't say that. Actually, I have quite a few male clients as well. And—”

Haley waves her hands to stop the conversation. “Hold that thought. You're not going to believe who just came in the door.” Jasmine and I turn our heads, but Haley says in a lowered voice, “Don't look. She'll see us gaping at her.”

“She?” I ask. “I was expecting none other than Tommy McNair.”

“Naw, that door's not wide enough for Tommy,” Haley says. Jasmine's and Haley's chairs are facing the door, while mine is turned so I can't see, and Jasmine leans forward to whisper, “Ohhh, you're going to love this, Aunt Clare!”

“Now you've got my curiosity up.” Casually, I pick up my wineglass and turn around to motion for the waitress to bring me a refill. As I do, I see her, Elinor Eaton-Yarbrough. Elinor stands poised just inside the door, her cool blue eyes scanning the bar area. She's her usual stunning self, in an ivory silk blouse with ropes of pearls hanging from her neck, a pencil-slim skirt, and tall suede heels. Her blond hair is upswept in a French twist, and tiny diamond studs gleam in her ears.