Shem Creek (23 page)

Brad was going to connect with Amy as fast as possible and take full advantage of her, um, availability. Just when I was starting to flatter myself by imagining that Brad might have had some interest in me, Amy had to show up and put the kibosh on that. The brazen slut. So, he had brought me shrimp. Big deal. I could tell by his face he had something much more meaningful in mind for her.

THE days lumbered along until Lindsey’s final day with us arrived. They had seemed like rows of dominoes standing on their edges, arranged so that when the first one received a slight tap they would collapse to the tune of their design.
Click, click, click
went the days, slipping away in normal rhythm, too quickly for me and I was sure, too slowly for Lindsey.

It seemed that a teenager’s life was one of waiting for their
real life
to begin and they were tortured by the anxieties of what the future would allot them. Every adult understood that the future entered history with each passing minute and that time was relative. Teenagers felt they spent the better part of their time languishing in an unjust limbo. They had to wait to get braces removed from their teeth to be able to smile with confidence. They waited to get a license so they could drive to the movies or a friend’s house. Which college accepted them would predict—not with certainty, but to a point—who their friends would be for the rest of their lives and where they would land in the economics of career reward.

I had watched Lindsey as she pored over the curriculum guides, looking beyond the freshman core requirements and trying to figure out which electives could lead to which kind of degree. She was a math and science wizard with a curiosity and thirst to understand everything, and with her wonderful mind she could probably become anything she wanted to become. The horsepower was there, but it would take time and waiting.

My life was exactly the opposite of my girls’ lives. Each hour of my day was filled with something that had to be done and my days passed with such frightening speed that I was always astonished.

It had been a wild summer and as could have been predicted, a wild week. Several weeks ago, Lindsey and I had arranged for her to have a bankcard and it had shown up in the mail on Monday. We agreed that a bankcard was much safer than keeping cash in her dorm room and more practical than checks. On Tuesday, we had taken her boxes to Pack Mail. She was shipping things like books, a boom box, her CDs, and enough clothes to last her until Thanksgiving. On Wednesday, we bought phone cards and a great pair of shoes on sale at Bob Ellis.

We were walking back to the parking lot on George Street.

“Thanks for everything, Mom,” she said. “I know we spent more than you wanted to.”

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” I said, “but the truth is we didn’t spend enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it makes me crazy that I can’t help set up your dorm room. I keep seeing us going to the big Bed Bath & Beyond in the city and taking all your pillows and towels and things back to school, all crammed in a taxi, and now I’m not going to get to do it. Miss Perfect gets to help you and I don’t. It just frustrates me, that’s all.”

“You mean Patti?”

“Yeah. Her.”

“Momma! She hasn’t said a word to me about doing
anything
to help me! And, if she does, I’ll tell her it’s all handled, okay?”

“No, no. Let her help you. But, she’ll probably do your whole room in monkeys.”

Lindsey elbowed me in the ribs and I laughed a little with her.

“Mom! You’re terrible!”

I stopped, took off my sunglasses and searched Lindsey’s face for loyalty.

“I hate missing anything that has to do with you or Gracie taking a new step in life, you know? Rites of passage? I’ve never missed one and now I’m gonna . . . oh, hell, Lindsey, I shoulda put a brick on your head years ago so you wouldn’t grow up!”

“Ah, Mom!”

“What am I gonna do about it now?”

“Ain’t nothing to be done now. Too late.” She threw her arm around my shoulder and gave me a one-handed hug. “I grew up anyhow.”

“No, baby, you grew up wonderful.”

“How about this? How about I get a digital camera and take before-and-after pictures? I can e-mail them to you at the restaurant, right?”

“God! I hadn’t even thought of that! And, yeah! You can e-mail me at the restaurant every day!”

I felt better, until the next day, that is.

On Thursday, oh yes, it was Thursday for sure when I met Amy.

Brad came to work that morning looking like, as he would say, the dog’s breakfast. His lips were puffy, his eyes were puffy and his hair was knotted in the back.

Louise and I were in the kitchen with Duane, solving the problems of the world when he stumbled in, looking for hot coffee. Louise looked at me, I looked at her, and we burst out laughing. You know me by now. I didn’t need anybody’s permission to give the boss a little heat.

“So, Brad! Rough night?”

“Oh, my God,” he said. “I’m too old for this.”

“Mr. Brad! You sick?”

“No,” he said, “just a little tired, I think. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

We knew he had a date with Amy because he told us so the day before. He had said,
So I just went up to her car and said, Amy! How nice to see you!

Aren’t you concerned that she was just sitting outside your house?
I had said
. I mean, in my world that would be bizarre!

I know, I know,
he said,
but anyway, I’m taking her out for dinner tonight.

Yeah, young woman make an old fool anyhow!
Louise had said.

“So, how was your date with Amy?” I said, pushing a little further.

“If she shows up, tell her I’m not here, okay? I’m serious, y’all.”

He looked at us, from face to face, as we nodded our consent.

“No problem,” Duane said.

“Good Lord!” I said.

“Humph,” said Louise.

Brad was obviously no Marathon Man. Duane handed him a mug of coffee and Brad pushed his way through the swinging door, heading for the dock and fresh air. I followed him outside. He was standing by the railing, staring down at the water.

“So what the hell happened?”

“What the hell happened? What the hell happened? The woman is a raving screaming sex machine of death and destruction!
That’
s what happened!”

“Holy hopping hell! I told you she was a freak!”

“She’s a freak of nature! She had to take me to the emergency room. . . .”

“What?”

“Yeah! The emergency room!”

“Do I get to ask why or do I have to wait to read it on your insurance claim?”

“We don’t have insurance yet and let’s just say that I was having some heart palpitations brought on by a combination of things, but they said it wasn’t a heart attack.”

“And the combination of things was?”

“Stress . . .”

“Well, of course you’re stressed.” I felt my
nervous babble thing
rearing up and decided to let it rip. “You move here, you open a business and the next thing you know, your wife has the bad manners to get herself run over and bam! You’re a full-time parent! That’s enough to make anybody’s heart palpitate. Right? Am I right?”

He was now watching the birds and thinking about something that was most probably none of my business. That didn’t matter to me one bit.

“So what did you do? Something stupid like take Viagra? That stuff kills, you know.”

“Shit! Viagra?” He burst out in a laugh. “What are you? Crazy?”

“I’ve been called worse, lemme assure you!”

“No! I drank red wine and ate chocolate! It set off an episode of tachycardia!”

“What the hell is that?”

“Don’t know. Some bullshit thing. Makes you feel like your heart is gonna explode.”

“Ah! I see. A bullshit thing.” I gave him a knock on the arm. “How about we find you somebody at the Medical University and get you checked out?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. First thing.”

Of course, the first thing I did was to tell Louise everything.

“You think he was in the bed with that woman?”

“Where else would you be with chocolate and red wine?”

I called Mimi.

“So, listen, remember that doctor you went out with a couple of weeks ago?”

“Was he in the restaurant with another woman?”

“No! What kind of a doctor is he?”

“Why? Are you sick?”

“No!”

“Do you have basal cell carcinomas?”

“Ah ha! Dermatologist?”

When I told her the reason for my call, she went into Mimi overdrive and I knew Brad would be in the hands of a renowned cardiologist within twenty-four hours.

I left my desk to find Brad and tell him what Mimi had said. I came around the corner of the bar and almost knocked down a customer.

“Oh, sorry!” I said. “Can I help you?”

“I was just looking for Brad?”

I took one look at her short white shorts, skimpy top, perfect tan and pedicured toes and knew exactly who she was. Amy. Did I mention that her shorts were short?

I stuttered around like I always do when I’m nervous. “Um, he was here earlier but um, gee, um, I think he might be out back. Uh, I’ll go look. But! He might have left! I think he had to go to the bank or something. No! Not the bank. Lowe’s! That’s it! I think he went to Lowe’s! But! I’ll just go and check.”

Well, this little tramp, Amy, who was at least fifteen years younger than I was, just stood there and looked at me like I had lost my mind. Let me assure you my brain was only missing temporarily. I didn’t like her vibe. Too aggressive. I didn’t like her. I walked in the kitchen, around the huge center island and right back out to the dining room.

“Nope! He’s out. Went to Lowe’s. Like I thought. Yep. Went to Lowe’s.”

She knew I was lying, but I’m not a very good liar anyway. Just then, Brad came in the door behind her. My eyes got big as I tried to signal him not to come in farther, her head turned around and Brad was busted.

“What’s the
matter
with you?” she said to me and went to Brad’s side, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you feeling, sugar?”

“I’m fine, fine,” he said, “really.” They walked outside together and I was left there feeling like an idiot.

My face must have been purple. I turned to O’Malley, who was setting up the bar, and said, “Nice one, right?”

“Yeah, those Jersey women are slick! Let me tell you. . . .”

“Oh, bite me, O’Malley! He
told
me he didn’t want to
deal
with her!”

“And, you did one helluva job keeping her away from him.”

“Whatever. You got receipts?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ll get them for you right now.” He stopped lining up mini-bottles on the shelves, reached under the counter and handed me an envelope.

I sat up at the bar and started going through them, thinking that the amount of rum we were selling was surprising, but then, there was the heat to consider. They were probably running blenders making frozen daiquiris, piña coladas, and rum runners for the masses. And, naturally, I told O’Malley about Brad’s heart palpitations. He said it was very common. I said I had never heard of it. We agreed on one thing though: Brad was going to have medical attention whether he liked it or not.

“Isn’t it amazing how relieved you are once you decide to see a doctor?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, “it’s like we think there’s a cure for everything. Just go see any old guy with an M.D. and he can fix it, right?”

“Exactly.”

After a few minutes, Brad came back inside, sailing across the dining room floor with way too much swagger, and positioned himself by the bar, leaning on one elbow. O’Malley and I looked at each other.

“Um, excuse me, sir!” I said. “You don’t look like somebody who wanted to avoid someone!”

“I told her to go back to Atlanta,” he said, “I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

“No way!” I could smell a lie. “What did she say?”

“She said that she had just come down here to make sure that I was all right. I don’t know if I told you this or not, but she had seen Loretta’s obituary in the
Journal,
and she was concerned. That’s all.”

“You’re lying like all hell,” I said. “That woman planned to come down here, move in with you and take over your life.”

“I hate to say it,” O’Malley said, “but I’m with Linda on this one. I saw the way she sneaked in here dressed for the hunt.”

“Well, I think she expected to find a glamorous restaurant, a huge house and a stud. Oh, yeah, and I think she thought that Alex would be in boarding school or something. And, I think the deal with my heart last night scared her.”