The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion (34 page)

S
OOKIE AND
D
R
. S
HAPIRO STILL MET ONCE A WEEK
,
DESPITE THE FACT
that they had almost run out of meeting places. But even with all the hassle of having to change restaurants, she knew it was doing her a lot of good. However, she was finding out that self-examination was not easy. They say the truth can set you free, but sometimes it can really depress the hell out of you. Sookie woke up one morning feeling a little blue, and when Dee Dee came to pick her up for lunch that day, Sookie was still in her nightgown.

When she answered the door, she said, “Oh, honey, come on in for a minute. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should have called you sooner, but I don’t think I’m up for lunch today.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just feel a little down today. Do you mind?”

“No, I guess not. But what’s the matter with you? Are you sick?”

Sookie sat down in her chair and shook her head. “No, I’m not sick.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t want to bother you. It’s nothing. I’ve just been thinking too much lately is all.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Oh, stupid things … about my life … things like that.”

“What about your life?”

“Oh, sometimes I think maybe your grandmother was right about me all along. I’ve had two fantastic mothers—one a hero who flew planes—and I turned out to be just a big nothingburger with no courage at all.”

Dee Dee looked at her in utter disbelief. “What? You must be kidding. You were our hero. Don’t you know that? You were the best mother in the world. And you did so have courage.”

“Me? I don’t think so.”

“Yes, you did. Don’t you remember that day when we were little when Daddy’s Great Dane fell off the end of the pier? You’re not a good swimmer, but you jumped right in the bay and pulled him out. Don’t you remember that?”

“Yes, I guess so—but your daddy loved that stupid dog.”

“And that time we went to Disney World, and you were scared to death, but you got on that roller coaster, just so you could ride with us?”

“Yes, I do remember that. And I wouldn’t do it again, I’ll tell you that.”

“But you did it once. That’s something, isn’t it? And I don’t care what you say, it takes great courage to have four children and sit by and watch them make mistakes. Look at me. I’ve obviously married the wrong man twice, and you never made me feel bad or said a word about it. And when I needed you, you were always there. So I won’t have you thinking you are a nothingburger. Nothing could be further from the truth. Now, Mother, don’t make me have to spank you. You just get up out of that chair right now and get dressed, because we are going to lunch. Do you hear me? The world awaits!”

Sookie looked at her daughter and smiled. It was at that moment that she realized that her little girl, the one she had been worried about the most, had quietly grown up.

Sookie got up and did what Dee Dee said. As she was upstairs getting dressed, she had to laugh. Dee Dee may not be a Simmons by birth, but she was certainly Lenore’s granddaughter, all right. They went to lunch and had a marvelous time.

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

J
ANUARY
2006

L
ENORE HAD A BIRTHDAY COMING UP
,
SO IT WAS TIME TO START PLANNING
, and she always had a list of instructions for Sookie about how she wanted to celebrate.

Sookie got out her notebook and walked over to her house. Angel told her Lenore was back in her little den off the alcove. When she went inside, she found her mother fully made up but still in her floral dressing gown, sitting at her desk looking forlorn. “Hey, what are you doing? I came over to find out what you wanted to do this year to celebrate your birthday.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. When you’re my age, there’s nothing to celebrate.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“I’m so upset.”

“Why?”

“Oh, Sookie, it’s so awful to be old. Look at my phone book. Almost everyone I know is dead. Nobody is left that remembers me when I was young. I don’t have anybody left to reminisce with. If it weren’t for you and Buck, nobody would remember me at all. I’m being pushed into the past. Oh, it’s terrible when you don’t have a
future or anything to look forward to. I used to think that after you and Buck were grown, I’d go on the stage, but then your daddy got sick, and I had so many club obligations, I guess I just misjudged time. And when your daddy died, it was too late. Oh, I could write a book. I’d call it
A Life of Regret
or
The Things I Didn’t Do.
And I could have done so many things. I was always good at anything I put my mind to, you know that.”

“That’s true. You could do anything and do it better than anybody else. But you know, Mother, I have always wondered: Did it make you happy?”

“What?”

“Have you ever been happy?”

“Oh, Sookie, why do you ask me these silly questions? I must say I liked you better when you were busy raising children. Lord, all you do now is sit around and think, and thinking is not good for you, Sookie.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Well, Sookie, your mother is the only one who will ever tell you the truth. You know I’m right, Sookie.”

“Okay, Mother. Whatever you say. But what do you want to do about your birthday this year?”

“Oh, I suppose I owe it to the children to have some sort of celebration. It means so much to them, and who knows? I may not be here next year, so maybe we should do a little something.”

Sookie sighed. “How many people?”

“Oh, no more than thirty. I’m just not up to it this year.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“And if we do go to Lakewood, don’t let them talk you into putting us in the smaller room.”

“Yes, Mother.”

That meant she wanted to go to Lakewood and be in the big room. And knowing Lenore, she would start adding more and more people as it got closer.

But that was Lenore. Her birthday was a big thing to her and she assumed it was for everyone else in town as well.

As Sookie walked back home, she began to think about the situation
regarding her own birthday. Her real birthday, in October, had quietly come and gone. She wondered about the woman listed on her birth certificate. It was strange to think that somewhere out there, someone she had never met might have been remembering that day too.

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

S
OOKIE HAD ALWAYS WORRIED THAT SHE AND
D
EE
D
EE HAD NEVER
been as close as she would have liked, but Dee Dee had started calling and asking her to meet for lunch almost every week now. And it was nice getting to know her daughter just a little better.

They were sitting outside at Sandra’s Sidewalk Café one afternoon, when Dee Dee said, “Oh, Mother, did I tell you that I finally got the Poole family crest reframed?”

“No, you didn’t. Are you pleased with how it looks?”

“Oh, yes. I think I like the gold even better than the red.”

“Oh, good.” Sookie took a sip of her iced tea and said, “You know, Dee Dee, I just realized something.”

“What?”

“Well, just think, you are a Poole by blood, and I only married a Poole, so you are even more related to your father than I am. And none of us are related to the Simmonses at all. Isn’t that strange? I mean, what is genetics, and what is environment? And why am I the way I am?”

“Oh, Mother, who cares? We certainly don’t. The only thing that matters is who you are now. And besides, this is America, and you are
free to be anybody you want to be. You can even change your name legally, if you want to, and not be a Simmons or a Jurdabralinski. You can be whoever you want to be.”

Sookie smiled. “Can I be Queen Latifah?”

Dee Dee laughed. “No, but you could call yourself Lucille Flypaper or Tiddly Winks McGee, if you want.”

“I know you’re kidding, but you know, it might be fun to be someone different, just for a change. ‘Sookie’ is way too babyish for a sixty-one-year-old woman, don’t you think?” Sookie took a bite of her salad and then said, “Virginia Meadowood.”

“What?”

“From now on, I want to be known as Virginia Meadowood.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Do you think I’m too old to start over?”

“No, Mother, sixty-one is young.”

“I wish I could start over. I would do things so differently if I had the chance.”

“Oh, what?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have let so many things bother me, and I would have stood up to your grandmother more, of course. But then if I were someone else, I might never have been a Kappa, and I wouldn’t have married your father. You would have had a completely different father or else you might not have been born at all or I could have had four totally different children. I can’t imagine. It just boggles my mind thinking about all the what-ifs, wondering why things turned out how they did and if it was supposed to be that way or is your life just an accident.”

“It’s a mystery, isn’t it? But, Mother, you may want to change and be someone different, and we will support you in anything you want to do, but we’ve all talked about it, and we’re really glad you married Daddy, and we admire you for having so much patience with us and with Grandmother.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. But seriously, Mother, you are not who you think you are.”

Sookie had heard that before. “How so?”

“Well, it’s true that Grandmother is flashy and flamboyant and all that, but she’s a little shallow. You think you’re not important, but you are. You have heart, Mother. You are a real human being.”

Sookie was suddenly overwhelmed to be hearing this from her daughter, and tears sprang up in her eyes. “Well, thank you, honey. That means a lot to me.”

L
ATER THAT AFTERNOON
, S
OOKIE
called Dena. “I’m telling you, Dena, when you live long enough to see your children begin to look at you with different eyes, and you can look at them not as your children, but as people, it’s worth getting older with all the creaks and wrinkles.”

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

P
ETE THE MAILMAN WALKED TO
S
OOKIE
’
S DOOR AND KNOCKED JUST AS
Lenore was coming up the stairs with a sack of B & B pecans she had picked up for Sookie. When Sookie opened the door, she saw them both and said, “Well, good morning!”

Pete said, “Good morning. I’ve got another package for Alice Finch.”

“Oh, thank you, Pete. I’ll take it.”

“She’s been here for quite a while now. She must like it here.”

“Yes, she does. Thank you, Pete,” Sookie said. “Have a nice day.”

As Lenore walked in the door, she asked, “Who’s Alice Finch?”

“Just a friend.”

“What friend?”

“You don’t know her, Mother.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know everybody who’s moved here. I’ve never heard of anyone named Alice Finch.”