Folly Beach - Dorothea Benton Frank [110]
“How do you know?” Patti said, not wanting to miss the opportunity to stick it to Alice. “So, let me ask you this. Anybody rub your belly for good luck yet?”
“What?” Alice said.
“Ahem!” I cleared my throat and kicked Patti under the table.
“Ow! Sorry, so tell us how you plan to stay fit? Are there some new guidelines?”
“No, no. I’m just going to eat lots of protein and fresh vegetables and try to get some exercise every day. And sleep, which won’t be a problem, because all I want to do is sleep.”
“That sounds good, honey,” Ella said, being nicer than my sister.
The waitress reappeared with a tray of our beverages and began putting them in front of us.
When she got to Alice she said, “I didn’t know if you wanted lemon in your tea so I put it on the side.”
“There aren’t too many calories in a squirt of lemon, are there?” Alice asked.
The waitress looked up at the ceiling.
“You may squirt with impunity,” Patti said, but she was smiling when she said it so Alice didn’t think she’d been jabbed again.
“Actually, lemon juice is a natural diuretic,” I said. “So, if your ankles get swollen this summer, make lemonade. Or eat asparagus. They help, too.”
“I did not know that,” Alice said. “Thanks for telling me.”
“On the house,” I said and smiled at her. After all, she was pregnant with my grandchild.
The waitress waited to take our orders.
“So, girls? What are we having?” Russ said. “I’m thinking seriously about the tuna.”
“Who you calling a girl?” Ella said, winking. She raised her glass. “To Daisy, who would be right here having a martini if she could. Get well quick!”
“Amen,” I said. “Here’s to Aunt Daisy!”
And everyone touched the rim of their glass to another’s.
“I’m having the shrimp platter with collards and grits,” I said.
“That sounds good but I’ll have the crab cakes,” Ella said. “With red rice and collards. I’ve been thinking about the crab cakes ever since Russ said we should come here.”
“So good. Coconut shrimp for me with fries and cole slaw,” said Patti.
All eyes were on Alice.
“And you, hon?” said the waitress.
“Well, I can’t eat tuna because of the mercury thing and all this other stuff is too fattening so I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries with a side of mac ’n’ cheese? That mac ’n’ cheese isn’t a big portion, is it?”
“No, no. You could barely feed a mouse with it,” the waitress said.
“Eat what you want,” I said. “You’ll never be able to eat like this unless you get pregnant again.”
“Yeah, but then you have to starve yourself to lose it all,” Alice said.
“The weight will fall off of you like water,” I said, wondering if the whole dinner was going to be monopolized by Alice’s new favorite subject—herself.
It was.
We crawled through dinner, listening to Alice regale us on the topics of prenatal care, breast-feeding, Lamaze techniques, and her mother’s advice. Almost every sentence she spoke began with well, my mother says . . . I thought, yeah honey, when you go into labor and your momma ain’t here, you’d better learn how to spell Cate.
Hugs and good-nights for Russ and Alice took place in the parking lot and then we drove out to Aunt Daisy’s and Ella’s house. Except for a few choice remarks about Alice, the ride was pretty quiet. We went up in the elevator with Ella just to be sure there were no robbers hiding behind the curtains or monsters under the beds. It was just really lousy manners to let a woman of her advanced years, or a woman of any age, for that matter, enter an empty house alone. Plus, Patti said in the car that she wanted a Diet Coke in the worst possible way and of course I didn’t have any at home and all the stores were closed. But Ella offered her a twelve-pack, because they had just made a Costco run and her pantry was fully stocked. So, we had our solution for Patti and our excuse to follow Ella in without making her feel like she needed special senior-citizen coddling.
“They’re right in the pantry in the kitchen,” she said, going from room to room, turning on lights and televisions.
“Thanks. Wow! The house