Folly Beach - Dorothea Benton Frank [53]
“Hi, Mom!”
“Hey, darling!”
“Welcome back to South Carolina!”
“Well, thanks honey! How’s everything?”
“Great! We played Wando last Friday and kicked their miserable butts.”
“That’s great, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. The mighty Trojans ha! We beat ’em by twenty. Smoked ’em.”
“That’s a win for sure.” But that’s a most unfortunate name for a team, I thought.
“So, what are you doing tonight, Mom? Alice made this huge casserole out of chicken and broccoli and I don’t know what else is in there but it smelled good. Want to come over for dinner like around six?”
“Oh, Russ, I’d love to but I can’t.”
“Wait a minute. Is it this John Grisley getting in your life?”
“R. Risley. Where’d you hear about him?”
“Sara.”
“Oh, please. I had a wreck with the man and . . .”
“You had a wreck?”
“Fender bender. No biggie. We’re going out to a body shop in the sticks of Ladson to check on my car and then we were going to just get coffee or something and maybe a bite . . .”
“Hey, Mom? I don’t care if you have a date. In fact, I think you should get yourself out there again. Why not? It’s not like Dad was the ideal husband or something. If you go out to dinner it won’t bring Dad back to life, right? Now Sara? She’s of another opinion.”
“It’s not a date.”
“Mom! I don’t care if it’s the most smoking hot affair in the history of the planet! It’s your business. Come tomorrow night then! How’s that?”
“What does Alice think?”
“About what? Your it’s not a date deal?”
“Yes. I mean did Sara call y’all all upset?”
“You could say that but Sara is still majorly immature when it comes to anyone’s happiness besides her own. She can’t help herself. And my lovely Alice has an opinion about everything, as you know.”
Was he getting a bellyful of Doctor Know-It-All?
“True enough. What did Sara say?”
“She just thinks it’s too soon for you to be going out with a man. You know, she’s still pretty messed up about Dad. I’m a lot less emotional about it.”
“And Alice?”
“Believe it or not, she feels sorry for Sara.”
“Oh my! That’s a first.”
“Sort of. I mean, she says Dad’s death is complicated, which it is, and that everyone needs to be in touch with their true feelings to get the right kind of closure and move on in a healthy way.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Look, whatever. It’s how Alice makes her living. She means well.”
“I know.”
“I mean, Dad was who he was. I always wondered how you dealt with his insanity. Too much BS for me.”
“Russ? You’re going to see that in a long marriage, if you’re lucky enough to have one, you have some good years and some not-so-good years. If you really love your family, you try to endure the difficult times, because it’s important to hold families together. Your father did the best he could. He was under tremendous stress . . .”
“Yeah, I guess so. But he brought it all on himself, didn’t he? He sure was one crazy sumbitch.”
“Is that the Southern term of endearment for son of a bitch?”
“Yeah. It might be.”
“Well, son, try to remember the many good things your father did for us. It’s not a black-and-white world. But don’t focus on the dark stuff. It wasn’t all his fault, you know. The housing market went south and banks made a lot of mortgages they shouldn’t have and believe me, no one knew the economy would go to hell in such a blaze of glory.”
“Blaze of shame is more like it. I’m so glad I teach high school and that I didn’t get an MBA. You have to wonder how those guys on Wall Street live with themselves, right? No conscience.”
“That slices it about as thin as you can.”
“So, you’ll come tomorrow night?”
“Absolutely! What can I bring?”
“Just bring yourself.”
During the time these phone calls came and went, I had traveled the distance between the Porgy House and Aunt Daisy’s and pulled up into her driveway. I hurried up her steps and right into the house through the unlocked door. Aunt Daisy was in her home office, going over a bank statement.
“Morning! Your door was unlocked!”
“Oh pish! Ella went out for the paper and must