Choosing Charleston Page 8

  “So you live here then?”

  “I live in Dutchess County, New York. I’m just visiting for a while. I’d love to make it a permanent stay, but I’ve got to get back to my job soon. I’m sure the case files are piling up.”

  I realized I was blathering and shut up. Not only had Robert made an ass of himself in front of this man, but now I was sounding like an idiot.

  “Case files?” Trent said, standing there calmly. Looking like he got in fistfights in people’s backyards every day. Calm and criminally handsome. And pissing me off, just by association of who he worked for.

  “I’m a professional mediator.”

  Taking charge, Mamma told the twins and Hunter to go wash up for breakfast and herded everyone inside.

  “So what can we do for you?” Mamma asked Trent after we were all seated around the kitchen table. She’d put a bowl of grapefruit sections and a platter of toasted English muffins.

  “I came by looking for Mister Stone. I went by your store, but they said he hadn’t been in yet. That I could probably catch him here. I just wanted to drop off the information he asked for.”

  “I thought Daddy was at the store,” I said.

  “I thought so, too,” Jenny said, shrugging her shoulders.

  Although we heard Robert come in, nobody acknowledged him for a few long seconds. He stood there looking like the family pet who’d just peed on the kitchen floor. Ashamed. Finally Mamma told him to go clean up and join us for breakfast. I studied him over the rim of my coffee cup, but he walked into the hallway without making eye contact.

  “Did Mister Protter send you?” I said, letting the name roll off my tongue with distaste. “What, he couldn’t just send a courier? I mean, shouldn’t you be out… hammering a nail or hauling some rebar or something?”

  “Carly!” Mamma scolded in a whisper. One thing she won’t tolerate in her house is rudeness to a guest. But then, she didn’t yet know who he was.

  “Meet one of the men that works for the company who’s putting you and Daddy out of business, Mamma.”

  The twins quit eating and everyone held their breath to see what Mamma would do. The situation was suddenly as juicy as the sweet grapefruit we were eating.

  “Basta!” Hunter said, pointing at Trent. Even though he was entirely too young to understand the situation and it had to be a coincidence, I silently praised his uncanny timing.

  The twins giggled and Mamma told Hunter to hush.

  “Like you, your son is delightful despite his vocabulary,” Trent told me, grinning through a bite of muffin slathered with enough strawberry jam to cover ten muffin halves.

  Trent thought I was delightful?

  “First, I’m inclined to agree with him,” I said. “Second, he’s not my son. They’re all my sister’s kids.”

  “And, anyway,” Jenny said sweetly. “Hunter knows his daddy isn’t really a bastard. I just called him that because he said I was fat. He’s really very sweet, aren’t you, Honey?”

  “Of course, Baby,” Stephen said and gave her a kiss on the mouth. “I’m always sweet to you.”

  I rolled my eyes. Jenny batted hers at Stephen. Ignoring us, Mamma looked at Trent. “You work for Protter Construction and Development?”

  “Guilty as charged, ma’am. But I didn’t come here looking for a fight. I just wanted to drop off this report Mister Stone asked for. It’s the construction timeline. And I brought the information he needed on the commercial real estate folks. I believe he’s going to put your building on the market.”

  Mamma chewed slowly on a piece of grapefruit while she digested the information.

  Trent took a swallow of coffee. I noticed he drank it black. I followed the path of his gaze as it traveled slowly across the kitchen, absorbing the décor and framed photographs, before settling on me.

  “So, Carly,” he said and my name sounded like velvet. “Why was your husband trying to punch me out? Over this development project?”

  “No, of course not. He doesn’t even know anything about the Handyman’s Depot. He thinks you and I are having an affair.”

  Trent’s eyebrows arched up, seeking elaboration. I owed him that, anyway.

  “Robert has been in New York. I’ve been visiting Mamma and Daddy. He called and Granny told him we were kissing like they do on General Hospital. The French kind. With tongues.”

  “That General Hospital show is some good TV,” Granny said. “They don’t need none a them Niagra pills, let me tell ya.”

  The twins giggled, Jenny gave Stephen’s leg a squeeze under the table and Trent’s look grew more bewildered.

  I couldn’t help but grin.

  “But Granny was talking about me and Stephen,” Jenny told Trent, blinking mascara-coated lashes more times than she needed to. “She gets Carly and I mixed up sometimes. And you just happened to show up at the wrong time.”

  “You’re Jenny Stone,” he said recognizing her. “I’ve seen you on that shopping talk show. What’s it called?”

  “In Home Now,” Jenny said, appeased he’d identified her without having to be told who she was. “Stephen is the producer.”

  “Thanks for your help out there,” Trent told Stephen.

  “No problem.”

  Explaining the misunderstanding to our visitor made me realize that my husband was not only an adulterer, but also a hypocrite. He could bang somebody while we were happily married, but couldn’t stand the thought of me kissing another man after he wanted to divorce me? What right did he have to be jealous, even if I had deep-kissed Trent? Not that I would lock lips with my adversary, no matter how good looking the man was. He still worked for a Protter. And I was still married.

  The twins scrunched up their faces and eyed a spot over my shoulder. Robert had emerged from the bathroom. He looked sheepish. He’d been eavesdropping.

  “It was a mistake anyone could have made,” he said in defense of his actions, and after a few seconds of expectant silence hung in the air, apologized to our visitor. “I heard you telling Steve how quickly it had all happened and what a beauty she was. After her grandmother told me Carly had a boyfriend here, I just assumed… well you know.”

  There wasn’t an unoccupied chair beside me so he took one at the far end of the table. Trent studied him briefly.

  “I don’t recognize you, but your voice sounds familiar for some reason. Have we met?”

  Robert, still embarrassed, drank some coffee with a trembling hand. “No.”

  Trent shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, I was talking about the new center we’re developing. It did come together quickly, and it is a beauty of a deal,” Trent said.

  His comment hung thickly in the air, reminding everybody that he was, in fact, the enemy.

  “So do you enjoy working for people who are in the business of putting other people out of business?”

  “That’s not what Protter Construction and Development is all about, Carly.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and stabbed a chunk of grapefruit with my fork.

  “The company buys land and develops it. Growth in any area brings competition in business, and the competitors of Stone Hardware and Home Supply would be knocking on your door sooner or later, whether or not they were one of the anchor stores in our development,” Trent said.

  “Are you one of the supervisors, Trent?” Mamma asked. “You seem to know a lot about the business.”

  I was thinking the same thing. Were it not for the truck he drove and the telltale boots he wore, I never would have guessed the man to be a construction worker.

  “Something like that,” he answered before helping himself to another half of English muffin. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Stone, but I’ve got to run. Would you please give this to your husband?”

  He’d finished eating and pulled an envelope from his back pocket. It was a smooth motion, confident, comfortable. I realized I was staring and looked away a split second after he realized it, too. He left with another apology from Robert and half-h
earted ‘good-to-meet-you’s from Mamma, Stephen and Jenny.

  Our mood was reflective of the bad news inside the envelope Mamma held as we watched him leave. Daddy was going to quit. Liquidate the inventory and sell the building and property. We felt as though a member of the family had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Now, it was just a matter of time.

  As we finished breakfast and I thought about what awaited me in New York, Stephen told Mamma they were heading home, too. He’d already loaded their stuff in the Navigator and they would go by the store on their way out of town to say goodbye to Daddy.

  Mamma’s eyes got misty. Her house had been full of kids and noise and energy and love and conflicts and … family. Soon things would return to normal, or at least as normal as they could get with Granny around.

  I turned my attention to my husband. “What are you doing here, Robert?”

  “I came to bring you home, since your visit was turning into an extended stay. Besides, I thought it’d be nice for both of us to visit with your family for a day or two,” he added.

  “Well, I was just getting ready to hit the road,” I said. “You didn’t have to come fetch me.”

  Robert shrugged and shot me a boyish smile.

  Mamma’s face showed mixed emotions. She’d be thrilled at having me around for a few more days, but she wasn’t sure about playing host to the man who’d cheated on her daughter. As for Robert, his demeanor was appropriately regretful. His handsome face appeared apologetic, yet confident. Hopeful. He wanted to make it work. And he’d come after me, the same way Stephen had come after Jenny. I had to give him credit for that.

  A ringing phone interrupted my reverie and I watched Jenny’s face go ashen beneath all the artistically applied makeup as she listened to the caller.

  “Daddy’s in the hospital,” she told us.

  * * *

  Daddy, engulfed by the mechanical bed and surrounded by stainless handrails, looked vulnerable. He’d been larger than life as I’d grown up and had remained invincible since. Now, for the first time ever, I saw him as a mortal and the thought of his death made a wave of nausea rise in my stomach. The room swirled around me. Sensing my condition, a nurse guided me to the visitor’s chair and told me to lean forward, head down. I forced my lungs to fill with the metallic-smelling air several times and after a minute, the room righted itself.

  “Your daddy’s never been in a hospital before,” Mamma said quietly. “Not as a patient, anyway.”

  A bedside cardiac monitor was attached to his chest in several places beneath the blue hospital gown and an intravenous line ran from his arm. His eyes opened when Mamma gave him a kiss and he took us all in. Mamma, me, Robert, Jenny, Stephen, Granny and the kids, all crowded around the huge bed in the tiny room. His expression said that while he was glad to see his family, he hated everyone looking at him like he was a zoo exhibit.

  “All of you quit your staring, for crying out loud, and somebody get me some damn clothes so I can get out of here!”

  “Well, you must be feeling better,” Mamma said, adjusting the pillows behind his head.

  “We’re not staring at you,” I told him. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “The doctor said I’m fine. But they want to keep me overnight for observation, which is ridiculous. Your mother can observe me at home. Taffy can observe me. We all can observe me. Hell, I can observe my own self,” Daddy said. And then he giggled. “Observe my own self,” he said again and laughed some more.

  A nurse had entered the room and I raised my eyebrows at her. Daddy didn’t normally giggle.

  “It’s the morphine,” she whispered. “We often give morphine to patients with chest pain because it causes the heart to need less oxygen.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” I told Daddy. “But staying overnight is a good idea.”

  “I need to get out of here so I can observe me,” he argued.

  “Staying here is a better idea,” Jenny said. “A night of doing nothing will be good for you. You need to relax. Look, there’s even a TV with a DVD player on the wall. I’ll bring you a copy of the In Home Now Yard and Garden Special. We just taped it a few weeks ago. You can be one of the very first to preview it!”

  Daddy rolled his eyes so far back that I saw the bloodshot whites. Mamma refilled his water glass from a bedside pitcher. Granny found the bed’s remote control and Daddy’s feet and head began rising simultaneously.

  “She keeps doing that,” he said as his body got near to forming a ‘V’ shape, “and I’ll be previewing my own asshole.”

  “I could use me one a these,” Granny said, before Mamma took the remote away from her.

  Mamma and I left Daddy under the watchful eye of my sister and went to find his doctor. We caught up with the fellow, who appeared young enough to be roaming the halls of a high school instead of a hospital, at the nurse’s station. He led us into a nearby office.

  “To answer your first question, ladies, I am indeed a cardiac surgeon and I’m thirty-three years old. Despite the baby face, I’m one of the best in the southeast.”

  His smile was charming and Mamma visibly relaxed. “Well, doctor, you do look awfully young. So what’s going on with my husband? Is it his heart? He’s never had any problems before…”

  “His heart appears to be okay, but he had all the classic symptoms of a myocardial infarction when he came in.”

  “An ambulance brought him?”

  “I’m told he drove himself. Walked right into the emergency entrance and announced that he didn’t feel right.” The doctor smiled. “He was having trouble breathing, his pulse was erratic and racing, his blood pressure was off the charts and he was experiencing chest pain.”

  Mamma’s worry frown returned.

  “But the cardiac enzymes are normal; the EKG doesn’t show any cardiac muscle damage at this time. We’re going to give him a chest x-ray to make sure his lungs are clear and also an echocardiogram to take a closer look at the heart muscle. But I’d have to say, he’s probably one of the healthier sixty-year-olds I’ve ever examined.”

  “So then it wasn’t a heart attack?” Mamma asked.

  “I can’t say positively until we finish all the tests. But right now, all indications are that there was no myocardial infarction or pulmonary embolism.”

  “So if his heart is fine, what is the problem?” I am a bottom-line kind of person.

  “The signs and symptoms point to a panic attack, which is a condition typically brought on by extreme anxiety. It may sound crazy, but the process of eliminating other possibilities leads me to believe that’s what it was. Has anything like this ever happened before?”

  “No,” Mamma said. “He’s the most stable, happy and healthy person I know.”

  “Well, we’re keeping him tonight so we can monitor his cardiac enzymes, just to be on the safe side. And, as I mentioned, there are a few test results I’m waiting for. But I believe he’s going to be just fine.”

  “A panic attack? Daddy? No way,” I argued, wanting to hear something more concrete.

  “These attacks can hit anybody and hit suddenly.” He closed a chart on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “The causes might be intangible, but the physical effects of stress and anxiety on the body are very real. Believe it or not, stress can cause everything from ulcers and simple skin irritations to panic attacks to something as odd as temporary blindness. I would guess Mister Stone is stressed over something, and in this case, the stress may have been the cause of his severe chest pain and shortness of breath.”

  Mamma and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing. It was the store. Losing the hardware business that had been in the family for nearly one hundred years. The business that had grown into something big enough to employ thirty people, support his family and send his girls to college.

  * * *

  “Look, let’s just get this out of the way. We need to have this conversation sooner or later. I’m sorry for my indiscr
etion,” Robert told me from the driver’s seat of my car, managing to make the single word that meant ‘screwing our neighbor’ sound almost distinguished. “I shouldn’t have waited so long to apologize to you, but I wanted to do it in person. It will never happen again. Okay, Carly?”

  Since the medical university was keeping Daddy overnight, everyone decided to stay in Charleston another day. And since Stephen had volunteered to chauffer Mamma and the rest of the clan home, my husband and I sat alone in my car. I watched with irritation as Robert changed the settings on my stereo and adjusted the driver’s seat lumbar support. I didn’t like him driving my Beemer, but he always insisted on being behind the wheel whenever we went somewhere together. I used to find it endearing, like he was treating me as precious cargo. But now, it was just plain irksome, even if he had rushed to open the car door for me.

  “Okay, Carly?” he repeated.

  I was a captive audience to his rehearsed apology and didn’t have a rehearsed reply. I had planned to use my drive time back to New York as a kind of meditation. Clear my emotionally drained mind and figure out what to say to Robert. And I liked the radio stations set just the way I had them.

  “Look,” he persisted. “I know you’re angry and don’t want to talk to me. But we have to talk about it. It was really stupid to have gotten involved with her, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you. She came on to me once at the house and, well, one thing led to another. But she’s the one who started it. I mean, it’s not like I was out there looking for something to happen, you know? I just didn’t have enough sense to stop it. It was a Saturday when I’d been watching a hockey game and I’d had a few too many beers.”

  “How long?”

  He gave me a sideways glance, keeping most of his attention focused on the road. “How long what?”

  “How long has it been going on?” I didn’t really want to hear the details but I needed to know.

  “I don’t know. A few months maybe? She said that she needed me, and I felt sorry for her. I was just being, you know, a friend. Just being there for her, because she was so distraught about her divorce. Things got out of hand.”