We Interrupt This Date (10 page)

“Crystal,” I said. “Crystal Rose.” I gritted
my teeth and hunted under the sink for the dishwashing powder. A
year later and Mama still brought up the incident like it had
happened an hour ago and, of course, it was my own fault and she
wasn’t going to let me forget.

“Whatever. Sounds like a made up name to me,
like she’s one of those low women who take off their clothes in
bars and fit themselves into all kinds of suggestive positions
around metal poles. But didn’t I say to mark my words? I said, I
don’t know how many times, I said, ‘Susan, when a man claims a best
friend who’s a woman, and that woman isn’t his wife, then there’s
trouble brewing.’ As sure as peach blossoms turn into peaches you
can expect trouble.”

“Yeah, Mama, you did all but spell it out. I
still walked around oblivious, cooking and cleaning and taking care
of my home while T. Chandler worked himself into a lather over a
pair of size 40D faux breasts and an enhanced butt. Dumb me. No
surprise when I eventually found myself in divorce court.” I made
my voice deep and ominous when I said “divorce court” as if I were
talking about the deepest pit of hell.

I should have been able to figure things out
for myself without Mama’s warning—which I’d ignored. What
forty-two-year-old man has a bubble-brained flirt for a best pal?
To be fair, though, my sin was apathy more than cluelessness.

“Don’t be flippant, dear. The point is, I
believe, we were going to discuss this horrible plan of yours so I
could advise you.”

I sighed. I was positive I hadn’t asked for
either a discussion or her advice. And equally positive that no
force on earth could prevent her from butting in.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve already
told Veronica I’ll do it.” I would not tell her Odell had fired me
and Veronica’s offer was the only one on the table.

“I must say, I am shocked.” Mama pulled a
lavender spray bottle out of her purse and spritzed the air around
her for about a three-foot radius. She sniffed delicately and sat
back in her chair. I knew she was counting on the lavender
aromatherapy to help her get over her shock while she thought up
ways to influence me. Naturally she wanted me to continue to sit
around and grow bitter, yet remain a true southern lady who holds
her chin up and keeps a prominent display of her best wedding
photos--with the lying skunk cut out of them--on the mantle.

“It’s a done deal and I am not changing my
mind.”

“I hope she hasn’t spent any money yet.
Because it’s just a matter of a few days before you realize what
a
fatal
mistake you’ll be
making.” Mama shivered. I half expected her to reach for the
lavender again, but a yelp from the direction of the porch caused
her to swivel to face the door. “That Tiny, he thinks he’s a Great
Dane. Always beating up poor Sweetpea.” Sighing, she started to
rise.

I waved her back down. “I’ll get them.” I
marched out to the porch where a growling Tiny, his dark marble
eyes bulging from his skull with the effort, stood over the
cowering Sweetpea. He’d placed one nickel-sized paw on Sweetpea’s
black and tan chest.

“Stop that right now, you little beast,” I
snarled. “If the Dog Whisperer didn’t live clear across the
country, I’d haul you in for rehab.”

When my warning did no good, I squatted and
cupped my hands around Tiny’s body. He sank his needle teeth into
my wrist, but they hardly made a dent. I carried him back into the
kitchen and dumped him on Mama’s lap, leaving the other dog on the
porch.

“Mama, I’ve made up my mind about the new
job. I mean, look at me. For the first time in I don’t know how
long--at least a year--I actually feel enthusiastic about
something.” Sort of true. “I’m looking forward to living at the
Seaside View. It’s beautiful, it’s close to the harbor. I’ll be
able to walk all over the historic district enjoying the sights and
the fresh air of one of the most beautiful cities in the country. I
won’t have this huge house to work me to death. It’s a new
beginning.”

“Four bedrooms isn’t exactly huge.” Mama
sniffed and looked around as if she could peer through walls and
see the rest of the house, mentally measuring the dimensions. “And
you don’t look anywhere near death.”

“That isn’t the point,” I ground out. “I’m
ready to do something for me. Maybe I’ll like conducting ghost
tours and maybe I won’t, but at least I’ll know I tried. I can
always look for something else if it doesn’t work out.”

“Yes, but you’ll be without a home, and you
know you love this place and you love working in your garden. And
you’ll have no job. Lack of a paycheck is the first step toward
winding up in the streets.”

“I promise I’ll stay out of the streets. And
I wouldn’t quit the ghost tours until I found something else.”

“Yes, no doubt you’ll end up at the reins of
one of those poor horses that pull those overloaded carts--carts
simply full to bursting with sightseers.” She grabbed Tiny’s
rhinestone encrusted collar and pulled him back into her lap before
he could climb on the table.

“The carts aren’t that full,” I said in
clipped tones.

“And you’d have to empty those horse diaper
things. I can just imagine the condition of your poor fingernails.
I can almost smell the manure.”

So could I. I rolled my eyes. The phone rang
and I started to say I’d let the machine answer, but Mama threw up
her hands in her patented “I give up” gesture that really meant
“I’ll keep hounding you until you admit I was right, because you
are going to land on your face.”

“You will crash and burn, Susan. Mark my
words, you will wish you never lowered yourself to being a ghost
walker.”

“Ghost tour operator.”

“Call it what you will. I won’t be able to
hold my head up in church when my friends spot you parading around
Charleston leading tourists looking for wisps of fog.” She sucked
in air like she was taking her last breath, dropped Tiny into the
purse, and went out on the porch to gather the other dog. I spared
a moment of pity for Sweetpea who’d be forced to ride home in a
confined space with the ferocious Tiny.

Then I grabbed the phone. Telemarketer. I did
not need a new back porch, a subscription to twenty-two magazines,
or vinyl siding. Too bad they weren’t trying to sell me a quiet,
charming mother who looked at me adoringly and doled out praise
like it was her only function in life.

There’s one in every family. Or so Mama
tells me. I don’t know if she’s right or if Mama is just trying to
make the point that it’s not the fault of her parenting that my
sister DeLorean turned out the way she did.

In any case, I was not up for trying to
analyze what went wrong in the years between the self-assured
toddler who could charm any kid in Sunday School out of their last
piece of candy and the current helpless princess. Why did she have
to have another major life crisis now, on the morning after my
argument with Mama? I’d lain awake half the night, plans for the
new career fighting for space in my mind with replays of Mama’s
disapproving lecture.

The phone woke me before my alarm could do
the job. All I wanted was to find some way for DeLorean to manage,
for once, without me having to disrupt my entire life. Hadn’t I
told Jack just two days ago that I’d learned to say no?

I twisted a hunk of my hair around my
fingers so tight my nails started turning blue. Against the advice
of all the youthful appearance experts—and Mama--I puckered my face
into a frown guaranteed to lead to wrinkles and premature aging
unless I hit the botox center soon and often.

“
You’re sure the breakup is for real?
After all, this isn’t the first time you and Baldwin have argued
and you wouldn’t want to make another mistake.” Yet, I hoped it was
real, that she was finally leaving that jerk she’d hooked up
with.

“
Susan, give me a break. I’m
twenty-eight and, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve had a ton
of boyfriends, so I know a breakup when I see one. I could throw
myself in front of a train for trusting him to begin with, but then
where would that leave me? You’ve gotta see how devastated I am.”
She said devastated in long, drawn-out tones in case I still didn’t
get it. “He’s paid for plane tickets back to Charleston from LA. He
never wants to see me or our baby again, like we don’t even exist
and we never did. He says marriage is for fools, so he never
intended to marry me to begin with and I was kidding myself. You
should see the way he acts, getting jealous over his own son and
talking mean to us both, though of course Cole doesn’t understand.”
She sounded out of breath when she finally stopped
talking.

“
I’m sorry. You did the right thing to
break it off, Dee.” All thoughts of sticking to my position
evaporated like so much morning mist burning off in the sun. I
experienced a surge of protective anger at the thought of Baldwin
behaving so coldly toward my sister and her baby. I was glad for
DeLorean, glad she was getting away from Baldwin and I would stop
selfishly worrying over the impact of her troubles on my own plans.
And yet, the rush of words on the other end of the line had pelted
me like chunks of ice.

DeLorean, once again, had turned her life
into hash, and I would have to pick up the pieces. She’d never ask
Mama to take her in. Mama and the Chihuahuas live in a one-bedroom
condo the size of my garage. Besides, Mama and DeLorean get along
like two crocodiles fighting over a zebra carcass.

“
Does Mama know about this?” I asked
stupidly.

“
God, no. I can’t deal with hysterics
long distance and she’d just worry herself into a heart attack.
Let’s wait till I get there and then when she sees me and Cole it
will be a nice surprise for her.”

Nice surprise wasn’t exactly the phrase that
came to mind when I imagined Mama, her latest lecture forming on
her lips, catching sight of DeLorean and Cole camped out in my
guestroom.

“
Of course I’ll help. You don’t seem
to have many options and Baldwin has been unbelievably
cruel.”

“
I knew it. I knew I could count on
you, Susan. You’re the best sister ever.”

“
Sure, that’s me.” I still thought it
would be a good idea to call Mama, but knowing I’d have better luck
trying to bore a hole through my kitchen wall with a toothpick than
I would winning an argument with DeLorean, I asked, “When are you
arriving?”

“
One o’clock this afternoon, your
time. See you.” The line went dead. I didn’t even have a chance to
tell her that Jack Maxwell was back in town and he’d asked me to
lunch today and one o’clock was not convenient.

DeLorean’s an expert at scripting other
people’s lives for them, mostly mine. I sighed and plunked myself
into the nearest chair. I love DeLorean and her baby son, but why
did this have to happen today? Veronica’s new business would need
all my attention, and I was determined to make it work. Having
finally woken up or had ice water thrown in my face or whatever you
want to call it, I deserved a chance at happiness.

Why couldn’t I do what I wanted now that I
didn’t have a husband to stop me? T. Chandler would have gone
quietly indignant if I’d ever done something for myself while we
were married.

“
Your first priority is our son,” he’d
have said, speaking in low tones so I’d have to lean toward him
like a serf obeying to her master in order to make out his words.
“Second is our marriage. You can’t jump into something as risky as
ghost tours, or whatever you’re calling it, something with evening
hours that would demand such a big chunk of your time and energy.
And you know I don’t care for that woman.” That woman was Veronica,
who’d caught on to T. Chandler a lot faster than I had.

But T. Chandler was out of my life, thank
God. In fact, he was out of the city, having moved to Atlanta with
his new wife. I was not going to let either him or DeLorean and her
latest disaster weigh on my mind.

As far as moving ahead with my job plans, I
could start the ghost tours, but I’d have to wait to move into the
Seaside View until DeLorean and her son settled in to a place of
their own. Presumably this would be after she found a job here in
Mount Pleasant or across the river in Charleston. There had to be a
way to manage with two extra people. I was simply going to have to
rearrange my schedule. I thrust my chin out and pasted on a
“can-do” smile. Mission accomplished—almost.

I called Jack and left a message that I
couldn’t make lunch due to a problem with my sister. Then I called
Odell to say I’d had a family emergency. He was still screaming
about “short-timers attitude” and making inarticulate noises when I
hung up. Brenda would be fine. She’d taken copious notes yesterday.
Besides, she’d shown every sign of wanting to do things her way and
this was her golden opportunity to assume command.

After I hung up on Odell, I spared myself a
moment of keen disappointment that I wouldn’t be seeing Jack today.
He was right--we still had a lot of catching up to do and, after
all, we used to be best friends.

Then I raced around like a madwoman getting
the guest room ready, cleaning out the closet where I’d stored the
overflow from Christian’s room and rearranging the second guest
room, which I’d been using as an office. DeLorean could have that
room for the baby as soon as he was old enough to leave her
side.

When I was done, I barely had time to shower
and change before I had to head out to pick up DeLorean at the
Charleston airport. The airport is only about fifteen miles from my
home in Mount Pleasant. Unfortunately, an accident somewhere ahead
of me blocked the westbound lanes. I crawled along in a line of
cars moving bumper to bumper.