Calumet, page 23
your mother’s head is a cinder block stuffed with cotton. I’m
not sure who the hell she’s trying to impress, since she
rarely goes out. Throwing away your child over something
so stupid is something only a fool does. If I had more
energy, I’d put my son over my knee for going along with
this.”
“Time hasn’t blunted the message, and I’m not
interested in listening any longer. As for Dad, he goes along
to keep the peace. He has to live with her, not me. Are you
going to be home tomorrow?”
“Come early, and I’ll make you pancakes to go with the
coffee. You remember the way, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you then, and thanks,
Granny.”
“Bring that beautiful girl in the pictures you sent me. It’s
time I met her and told her some stories about how cute a
kid you were.”
“Margot had to work, so maybe you can come with
Eugenia for a visit. The house is big enough for you both.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, so sweet dreams, baby.”
The call made her feel better about the day, and her
shoulders finally relaxed. Conversations on the phone
weren’t enough, but her grandmother gave her some sense
of home. She’d come to California a few times, but that had
been before Margot. Now that the two most important
people in her life had called her, it gave her the courage to
try the call she’d wanted to make again.
“Sir?” she said when the line connected.
“Ah,” Wilber said, sounding shocked to hear from her.
“Jaxon, where the hell are you?”
“I’m back in my hometown for my class reunion, sir. Not
to worry, though, I’m coming home.”
“That’s too bad. What’s on your mind? Be quick before
my wife comes back in here and whacks me for giving you a
hard time. My wife and daughter are under the impression
you’re a pansy, and I’m beginning to believe you are if you
need that much backup.” The sound of a slamming door
made her guess Wilber was now safely in his study so Patty
Sue couldn’t run interference for her.
She started and spoke from the heart, and she was glad
he didn’t interrupt until she was done. This was something
she’d wanted to do in person, but not having to face him
staring her down was easier. Maybe that did make her a
pansy. She didn’t hesitate to answer his questions and tried
her best to put him at ease. They spoke for an hour, and he,
like her grandmother, didn’t consider her feelings when
telling her what was on his mind.
“You do this then back out, and I’m going to hunt you
down and feed you to my dog.”
“You don’t have a dog, sir.” She massaged her chest to
ease the tightness in it.
“The pound will have one I can adopt and train to rip
your throat out.”
“Duly noted, sir, and thank you.” The length of their talk
surprised her, and she smiled when it ended. It hit her that
she was trading one crazy family for another, but Margot
deserved her all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The big house surrounded by cane fields was still beautiful,
and Birdie was waiting on the porch, making the picture
complete. Her grandmother never seemed to grow old in
Jaxon’s eyes, and she cried when she wrapped her arms
around her. There was never anything that could top the
embrace of someone who totally loved you, warts and all, as
Birdie always said.
“Granny, I’ve missed you.” She held on a few minutes
more before letting her go and taking her hand. “I know, I
know,” she said when she got the eyebrow. “It’s my own
fault.”
“You hurt my feelings, baby. Not calling or visiting makes
me think you’re lumping me in with your mother, and
that”—Birdie pointed at her—“is unacceptable. I’m bitchy,
but I’m not that bitchy.”
“I know, but this town gives me a case of depressed with
a pissed-off chaser.” They went inside to the large kitchen in
the back.
It was amazing how the smell of a place could flood you
with memories that served to remind you of happy times.
Spending summers here had cemented the kind of person
she’d become. Afternoons with Birdie had been spent
reading in the library at the center of the house, then
talking about the books along with long conversations about
life. Those talks had given her the permission to be who she
was without apology. Unfortunately, that realization didn’t
come until she was on her own.
“I can understand that, but you’re over thirty now. It’s
time to stop hiding from the piece of yourself you left here.”
Birdie poured two cups of coffee and brought them to the
chrome and Formica table that had been in this kitchen
much longer than she’d been alive.
“What do you mean?” There was a nostalgia about
drinking French press coffee with fresh cream and plenty of
sugar. Margot would have a stroke at how much sugar, but it
was hard to ask someone who owned thousands of acres of
sugarcane to use an artificial sweetener. It was a good way
of getting run off the property by Birdie and her shotgun.
“Eve called me last night and had plenty to say. For once,
though, it had nothing to do with you. She was at the
grocery yesterday and ran into Iris.” Birdie stopped and took
a sip of her coffee while staring at her over her cup.
“I haven’t had the pleasure yet, and I’m not sure I want
to. Margot had to talk me into staying last night. My plan
was to come and spend the morning with you, then drive
back to New Orleans and fly home.” The sight of Sean was
still fresh in her mind, and she still couldn’t wrap herself
around what she was feeling. “I’m going tonight, but I still
think it’s a bad idea.”
“Does Iris’s daughter have anything to do with that?” Her
grandmother stood and took the chair next to hers so she
could hold her hand. “Eve was upset when she called, but
even she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. I think
that kid sent her into a real tizzy.”
“Think of me in high school, and you’ve seen Iris’s
daughter. I don’t understand either, and that’s okay, since
I’m not planning any return trips here, but what isn’t okay is
that the kid doesn’t understand.” She put her arm around
her grandmother when she leaned against her and kissed
the top of her head. “We both know it’s Roy, but that he
would betray me like that is hard to take. And how none of
us could know after all this time…”
“Remember that every story has multiple sides. You have
to realize that before you let go of that hot temper of yours.
He’s your brother, and there has to be an explanation.”
“He knows exactly what happened to me when I wouldn’t
back down to Mom. He was the golden child after that.” She
spit the words out, which was immature, but she didn’t care.
When you filled in history with facts, you didn’t always get
the answers you sought.
“Don’t make assumptions,” Birdie said, standing up and
heading to the stove. “Roy hasn’t been in your mom’s good
graces for a while now. He’s older than you, he’s not
married, and he hasn’t started a family. In your mother’s
opinion, those are sins of the highest order. If what you’re
telling me is true, then maybe he started a lot earlier than
any of us thought.”
The butter in the frying pan sizzled, and she watched her
grandmother pour the batter. “You can’t know what the first
couple of years were like when I left here. I lost so much,
and while I made peace with giving up on Mom, losing Iris
hit me in the gut. The plans we’d made seemed so concrete,
and she threw all that away in a five-minute talk.” She
finished her coffee and smiled at the sludge of sugar at the
bottom.
“I was a phone call away, so that pain was self-inflicted,
but let’s forget that part for now. Pain, my mother used to
say, gives us the nails we use to build character, and you
survived. I had no doubt, and I’ve forgiven you for not
letting me in back then. The older I get, the more I think of
the history of our family and what the future looks like.” It
didn’t take long for Birdie to put a plate of pancakes in front
of her with cane syrup. “You need to come back here with
your girl, but right now I want to forget all this stuff, so you
can tell me about Margot.”
“She’s doing great, and the show she’s on has become a
hit. The best thing about her is she’s in love with me, and
it’s hard to accept, but I try my best.”
“Of course she loves you. What’s not to love?” Birdie
pinched her cheek and laughed. “Are you finally ready to
settle down and make this permanent?”
“I am. Fear has held me back, but I’m not going to let it
rule me anymore.”
“Will you do something for me if I ask you?”
She finished her breakfast and nodded. “You know it.
Name it.”
“I want you to bring her back here, and I want you to
take this. I’ve held on to it for you—it’s part of your
inheritance.” Birdie handed her a box and closed her hand
over it.
“Birdie, it’s going to be a long time before you have to
think about inheritance.” She leaned over and kissed her
grandmother’s cheek. It was hard to imagine a world where
Birdie Lavigne didn’t exist.
“My spring chicken days are behind me, cher. I doubt
you’ll ever live here again, but this house should go to
someone who’ll appreciate it and won’t immediately put a
For Sale sign in the yard.” Birdie grabbed her plate and
started making more pancakes.
“How about Roy? He doesn’t seem to be leaving for
bigger things. From what little he tells me, his practice is
going well, and he’s happy here even if he hasn’t procreated
to make our parents happy. Or not that we know of,
anyway.” She turned and stared out the window and
watched the cane blowing in the wind. It reminded her of a
gentle dance with a bit of danger mixed in. Cane plants
were beautiful, but they were razor sharp, and a walk
through the neat rows was an invitation to be cut to shreds
by a million small cuts. It was a good analogy for her life the
longer she stayed here. “He’s usually in town. He’s not
answering his phone, and I have one guess as to why.”
Birdie seemed to be lost in thought as well and took a
deep breath when she put a fresh stack in front of her. “You
were the one who loved the history of the place, and all I
ask is that you keep it. Who knows, perhaps one day you’ll
have a kid who wants to be a cane farmer and enjoy all the
headaches that come with that.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” She stopped
her fork halfway to her mouth.
“No, I’m old and have oodles of time to think morbid
thoughts. I have a scattering of ducks, and I want to put
them in a row before I forget who I am and why the hell I’m
here.”
She had to laugh at her grandmother’s sense of humor. “I
promise I’ll make you proud.”
“That’s the last thing on her mind,” Eugenia said when
she walked in. That she hadn’t knocked or announced
herself meant she visited often. “You’ve been making both
of us proud for a long time, and we don’t see that
changing.”
Birdie kissed Eugenia’s cheek and started making more
pancakes.
“Did I get you into trouble with my lecture?” She figured
the back and forth with the students might have been talked
about around some dinner tables.
“There were a few parents that got their panties in a
wad, but the kids appreciated what you did.” Eugenia
leaned over and kissed her cheek before sitting down. “It’s
funny that I sit with parents year after year and remember
the things they said when they were my students. All of
them told me as students that when they had children,
they’d be different and give them the freedom of making
their own choices for the future.”
“Doing that means letting go of your control, and some
people have problems with that. They want to make sure
their kids stay in their lanes and out of trouble. I understand
that up to a point.” She finished her second stack of
pancakes and placed her plate in the sink. Any more and
she’d go into a sugar coma. “I don’t run into that too much
in my job, but there’s a few.”
“Are you going tonight?” Eugenia asked.
“Yes, and then I’m going home. Since you two seem to be
good friends, I’m expecting you to come visit.”
“We can do that now that Eugenia is retiring.”
They spoke for another couple of hours, and she laughed
for the first time in days. Eugenia excused herself and came
back with a gift bag. “Elle asked me to give you this and
made me promise to be sure you understand how much she
appreciated your time with her. You were a joy to us both.”
She took out a small book of Robert Frost poems and
instantly recognized it. The book was a first edition of Frost’s
first published collection, and her old teacher had treasured
it. “Are you sure? This was so special to her.”
“I want you to use it as an incentive to start your own
collection of short stories so I can brag I have a first edition
of your work. Like I said, she made me promise, and I don’t
want to go back on that.”
“I’ll treasure it,” she said, holding the book as if it was
indeed made of gold. “And thank you both. I feel better than
I have since I got here.”
She promised she’d come by again before she left to see
her grandmother one more time, but she was planning to
drive by Roy’s house to see if he was screening her calls.
The reunion was hours away, and she had to be in the right
headspace for that. Her call to Margot on the way back to
the B and B went to voice mail, and she hoped that didn’t
mean a long weekend of makeup work because of any other
gremlins on the set.
The only thing she wanted from the whole trip was for
Sean to call her. Whatever Iris had done, for whatever
reason, she wasn’t abandoning the kid who seemed to want
to connect with her. That meant staying tethered in a way
not only to Iris but to Daniel as well. She’d think about that
later…much later.
* * *
Daniel stood in the closet of their room putting on a fresh
uniform. Iris watched him like she had for years and could
describe his process in detail, from the way he tightened his
tie, to the way he put on the utility belt. He was meticulous
in how he put each piece of the outfit together, which was
surprising since he did nothing but complain about his job
when he wasn’t doing it.
“We need to finish the talk we started last night,” she
said when he stepped out with his boots in hand.
“That conversation is done. I’m not telling you what to
do, but if you go behind my back, I wasn’t kidding about
what I’ll do.” He sat and almost ripped his socks when he
started putting them on. “I’d like to think that my kid will
come to me if she needs to talk to someone. This job isn’t
what I’d planned to do forever, but I remember what it was
like to have dreams. If she needs advice, I’ve got plenty to
give.”
“I’m not going behind your back, but I’m also not going
to stop Sean from doing what she wants. Jaxon was invited
to give a lecture to her class, so they’ve met.”
His fist was so tight that his whole hand turned white.
“When were you planning to tell me that?” He raised his
voice, and she was glad the kids weren’t home.
“I didn’t know myself until it was done.” She told him
about Sean’s visit to the café and for a second thought
Daniel would have a stroke. “I’d like to think we’re strong
enough to survive this, but I’m tired of fighting you on a
subject that doesn’t matter to either of us.”
“Are you so clueless? A subject that doesn’t matter? It’s
