My parents had
already announced that the restaurant would be closed on Monday because the
repair man was coming. It was a good
thing, too, because that morning the air conditioner finally decided to die
completely. Dad stayed in his office for
most of the afternoon just so he’d be there if the repair man, who actually
turned out to be two women, needed anything, and Mom took advantage of the
unexpected day off to cook a big family dinner that night.
My brother Will was
coming over, so I was afraid things might get a little tense. Not that I didn’t like my brother, I adored
him. He had been the only one in the family
to support me in my decisions after college.
The issue was that everything he had done with his life was exactly what
my parents would have chosen for him whereas I…well I think I’ve said enough
about that.
Will had followed
his dreams, just like I had. But while
my dreams took me all the way across the country and into a new faith that my
mother considered sacrilegious, Will had realized all of his ambitions at
home. And he had really done well for
himself—going to college on a full scholarship and then on to medical school
after that. He had naturally made sure
that he received a quality education, he just hadn’t looked outside the state
of Georgia for it. And when his
schooling was done he had moved right back home and worked at the family practice
that Old Doctor Cowart had started back in the 70s. And when Dr. Cowart had retired, my brother
had taken it over. Will knew everybody
in town, and everybody knew him. And at
the risk of sounding like a cliché I could also say that everyone who knew him
loved him. My parents being at the top
of that list. His only failing was that
he was now thirty-five and still unmarried.
I helped my mother
in the kitchen as we awaited Will’s arrival, and we tried to find things to
talk about that did not involve religion.
Mom was into gossip, so that helped.
She told me all about Mrs. Pincher who was divorcing her husband after
she had caught him in bed with her sister.
She told me about Mike Pratt whom I had actually dated in school but who
had now been caught in the bed with another man. She told me about the new pastor at the
Methodist church who had just gotten engaged to a woman ten years his
junior. I began to think there wasn’t a
single thing that happened in town that my mom didn’t know about. I personally did not care a thing for hearing
about all of the marriages and divorces and new babies and local scandals that
were going on all over town. Quite
frankly those kinds of conversations bored me out of my mind, but I was
grateful for my mom’s constant chatter.
As long as she was happily gossiping about all of her neighbors, she was
not criticizing me, and I wanted it to stay that way. So I smiled and pretended to be interested
and tried like hell to figure out something appropriate to say in response, all
the while counting down the seconds until my brother arrived to save me.
I finally heard his
car pulling up at five thirty. He came
in carrying a huge pan of peach cobbler.
“Here, Mom,” he said
as he set the cobbler down on the counter and hugged both of us. “Jenny from our office made this and sent it
over.”
In most parts of the
world bringing a bottle of wine to dinner would have been more customary, but
my parents were Baptist so we had dessert instead. Mom opened up the cobbler and sniffed, then
immediately started in on what I knew was coming.
“That Jenny always
sends over the best desserts.”
Will smiled. “Yeah, she does. And she must have been busy over the weekend
because she brought us a pound cake for breakfast this morning too.”
“I’ve always thought
she was a nice girl. She’s not married
is she?”
Giving me an
exasperated look, Will said, “No Mom, she’s not married.”
“Is she dating
anyone?”
“Not that I know of,
but we don’t really talk about that at work.”
“I don’t seem to
remember hearing about her dating anyone. I don’t know her parents very well
though, so I’m not the one to ask. It’s a shame. She’s such a sweet girl, and so pretty.” Mom glanced my way and asked, “Don’t you
think she’s a pretty girl?”
The last thing in
the world I wanted was to get involved in this conversation, so I tried to
avoid the question by saying, “I’d hardly call her a girl, Mom. She’s in her thirties.”
That turned out to
be exactly the wrong thing to say.
“That’s right, she
is. I remember she was…do you remember
Will...two or three years behind you in school?”
“I think it was
three.”
“I think you’re
right. I think it was three. So you two are pretty close to the same
age. And you have so much in common. You’re a doctor, she’s a nurse. I’m sure you get along really well.”
“Jenny gets along
with everyone, Mom. She’s just a
friendly person.”
“Yes, she is. I’ve seen her with the kids that come into
your office. She’ll make a great mother
one day, don’t you think?”
I began to inch out
of the room, leaving my brother to fend for himself against my mom, knowing I
should stay and rescue him but at the same time glad that she was laying into
him and not me. Most of the work for
preparing dinner was done and everything was now baking in the oven or simmering
on the stove, so I retreated to the living room and grabbed a magazine to read
while we waited for my dad to come home and dinner to be ready.
Though we only lived
three blocks from the restaurant, my dad insisted on taking the car to work,
and considered me to be rather quaint for always wanting to walk. That was not a habit that I had picked up
from living in L.A., but all the same it was something that set me apart from
this community of old country boys with their pickup trucks and housewives and
working mothers with their SUVs. Since
being home I had not yet had the opportunity to buy a car, so I drove the
Toyota Corolla that my parents had bought when I was in high school but never
used anymore. I preferred walking,
though. On pleasant days I would close
my eyes and pretend I was walking through the streets of Paris, or an old
neighborhood in New York City, or any number of other places that I had never
actually visited. And all the time there
was that lingering sadness in the background, that longing to be somewhere
where I didn’t have to pretend. Where
the reality matched the fantasy. But
somehow I knew that didn’t exist.
Dad’s car pulled
into the driveway at six fifteen. He
burst through the door already in mid-sentence.
“Good Lord those people
charge and arm and a leg. I could’ve
fixed the damn thing myself if I’d known what I’d have to pay the
‘professionals’,” making air quotes as he said the word. “And they sure as hell took their sweet time
getting it done.”
Mom came in at that
point and said as she went to kiss him on the cheek, “Calm down, hon, and you
might want to watch your language in front of the children.”
“Children? Dammit Rhonda the ‘children’,” air quotes
again, “are twenty-five and thirty-five.
I think they’ve heard a bad word here and there.”
Will came in at this
point and we caught each other’s eye, trying not to laugh.
“Well, just the
same,” Mom said, “we’re supposed to be an example to them. “I just think we should keep that in mind.”
I rolled my eyes at
that comment. Example? Mom telling me all the dirty little secrets
of her neighbors, friends, and acquaintances was what she called setting an
example? Wow.
“Okay,” Mom
continued. “Who’s ready to eat?”
The response was
unanimous so we went to the dining room where she had already set the meatloaf
on the table. Will and I went to the kitchen to bring in the vegetables.
We sat down at the
table, and as we bowed to say the blessing I made the sign of the cross. I immediately felt guilty because I knew that
I had done it not out of reverence to God but as an act of rebellion against my
mother. With her head bowed and her eyes
closed, she had not seen me, but that did not make me feel better.
The food was
wonderful, as my mom’s food always was.
It had been her recipes, after all, that had kept the restaurant in
business for the past 18 years. And as we started to eat and to relax around
the table, I found myself able to enjoy the conversation. Having Will there actually helped. After all, he had always been my safe haven whenever tension was high between me
and my parents. And for once Mom and Dad
seemed more interested in what was going on in his life that in mine, so it was
a nice break for me, though my mom trying to play matchmaker between Will and
Jenny was going to get very tedious if someone did not change the subject
soon. Then Will said something that
almost made me drop my fork.
“So, Dad, what do
you know about this David Jenson who just came into town?”
“Not much, son. We talked for a little while the other
day. Why?”
“Well, he called me
up on Saturday and asked if we could talk.
I told him he could drop by the house any time, so he came over
yesterday. It was weird. He didn’t tell me anything about himself,
just asked a bunch of questions about the town and if I knew someone who could
take him down to see the river. Do you
know what that’s all about?”
Dad thought for a
second. “I have no idea. Sarah thinks he’s a developer wanting to
build here, but he’s picking some pretty strange people to talk to about it if
that’s what he’s up to.”
“I actually saw him
yesterday, too,” I said. “I asked him
why he was here and he said it was personal business. I have no idea what.” I intentionally left out the part where he
asked me about ghosts and telepathy and all that. This was already strange enough without going
into those details. First my dad, then
my brother? What in the world did he
want with our family?
Will continued,
“Well I told him to call Big Mack if he wanted to go to the river, and here’s
the funny part. He said he was already
planning to call him.”
“Yeah, I told him
about Big Mack,” I piped in again. “He’s
staying in that so-called hotel out on the highway and I said Big Mack
sometimes rents out his little place outside of town. Told him it was probably a nicer place to
stay.”
“Mack’s place,
nice?” Mom joined in. “That’s really
saying something about the quality of lodging in this town.”
“It’s just rustic,
that’s all,” Dad said. “I’ve spent the
night there plenty, and it’s alright. No
cable TV and no cell service out there, but that’s okay. Mack keeps it clean
and free of bugs at least.”
“Well, anyway,” Will
continued, “he said he was going to call Big Mack, but that he wanted to talk
to me again. Said he had some more
questions he wanted to ask.”
“Yeah, he said the
same to me,” Dad said. “He sure is being
mysterious about it all.”
I thought about my
conversation with David. About the odd
questions he had asked me. Mysterious
was putting it mildly. It was downright weird. But I kept quiet, trying to put
the pieces together in my mind, to come up with some kind of theory. But there was nothing that made sense. What could possibly be going on that involved
my family and the river, as well as ghosts and psychic powers?
The conversation eventually
moved on to other topics as we lingered around the table and gradually gobbled
up all of Jenny’s peach cobbler. Will
and I volunteered to clean up and my parents retreated to the living room to
watch TV. Alone with my brother I was
finally able to relax completely. He
alone had never criticized my choices, and though I knew he would have liked to
see me do more with my life than be a failed actress turned waitress, still he
never pressured me. He supported me and
had offered to help me out in any way he could, but he let me know it was on my
terms. Unlike my parents, he had no
preconceived notions of what kind of job I should have, what church I should
attend, or when I should get married.
After the kitchen was clean my parents decided to go to bed, and we sat
on the sofa talking until around ten thirty when he finally decided it was time
for him to leave. He kissed me on the
forehead, told me goodnight, and drove off into the darkness, leaving me alone
with my thoughts.
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