Folly Beach - Dorothea Benton Frank [118]
“You know what’s in glue, don’t you?” I said.
“Who cares? Here’s my question for you. How are you going to keep your big fat mouth shut?”
“I don’t know because I am seething.”
“You’re not going to be able to do that. I know you.”
“Well, this was a pretty incredible secret for them to keep from me, wasn’t it?”
“Keep from us, not just from you. I’m going to have a little chat with my husband and see just how this whole thing happened. He has to know everything.”
“Want to go walk for half an hour? I think I need to, so when I face Ella and Aunt Daisy I can have on my game face.”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
We locked up the house and walked out to the beach. It was getting closer to noon and the tide was out. Low tide and a warm sun were a beautiful combination and I reckoned the temperature to be somewhere near sixty. I began walking quickly and I could see Patti was struggling a little bit to keep the pace and talk at the same time.
“I can’t believe Mark knew about this and didn’t tell me,” Patti said.
“I can’t believe that woman had the unmitigated gall to try and get money from Aunt Daisy.”
“She probably hired some ambulance-chasing lawyer who took her case on contingency and he just figured he’d keep suing the next of kin down the line until he found some money,” Patti said. “Can we slow down just a little?”
“Sorry. I’m so angry that someone would harass Aunt Daisy, I could just explode!”
“It’s pretty horrible alright. Listen, she’s just some tramp . . .”
“Patti? I don’t care if she’s a tramp who works as a stripper or a nice person who’s a . . . who’s a pediatric hospice nurse!”
“I’m not sure there is such a thing as a pedia . . .”
“You know what I mean. What’s the matter with people? I still can’t believe she had the guts to come to Addison’s funeral!”
“Yeah, in that awful weather, too,” Patti said and I knew she was trying to assuage my anger with a little humor.
“With pictures! I mean, of all the crust! And then, to get some lawyer to go after Aunt Daisy? Is she kidding? I’m so mad I could spit! Heather Parke. What a stupid name. Sounds like a garden in Scotland.”
“Yeah, her middle name is probably Lavender,” Patti said.
“Oh, shut up, you stupid ass.” We started laughing then, like we always did when one of us talked the other out of anger or disappointment or any of the less welcome conditions that were visited on all of humanity. “Oh, Patti! What does this all mean?”
“It means my husband has a brain, Aunt Daisy has a heart, and Heather Parke has some pair of calzones.”
“Great. All I need is a pair of red shoes and a dog named Toto.”
Someday, when I was more secure, I was going to do something wonderful for my sister.
She looped her arm inside of mine and said, “Look, don’t worry. I’ll wrestle the whole story out of Mark and then we’ll think of how to get her to leave Aunt Daisy and all other family members alone. There has to be a legal way to do it.”
“I’d rather slap her in the face about a million times.”
“You’re right. That would be infinitely more satisfying. Now let’s get downtown before Aunt Daisy slaps us.”
“Hey! Are we really going to bring her a thermos of martinis?”
“Absolutely not. We’ll get her popsicles,” Patti said. “I’m in no mood for bullies. Or olives.”
“Me either. Let’s move it.”
What happened next was truly like a scene from a play. The sisters, the two fiercely loyal felines from the sand dunes of Folly Beach, the middle-aged ones with dreams still in front of them to chase until their last breath, they power-walked, fast and furious, until they nearly collapsed at the bottom of the wooden steps that went over the white sand and scrub and buttercups that would be back to bloom in summer, climbing the flight of steps to their aunt Daisy’s deck and returned, albeit begrudgingly, back to reality.
“I hate reality,” I said to Patti.
“Yeah, Folly Beach is way better.”
I knew we couldn’t stop Heather Parke, the tramp with the supercilious name, from suing us until eternity. But she’d never see a dime from us and I was going to handle this from now on. Not Mark. Not Aunt Daisy.