out of her mouth next. “My husband died five years
ago. I am a widow and my coming here was … a little impulsive.”
“She drove here
straight from California,” I said. “She started thinking she was going to the
store and just kept driving.”
“I’ll be
damned,” Judd said. “Hope you remembered to put the cat out.”
“Charlotte,” I
said. “You have to admit, you haven’t been a part of my life for most of my
life. I didn’t even think you would respond to my invitation.”
“I suppose you
didn’t, and for that I can’t blame you,” she said. I haven’t exactly been
available.”
My dad sneered
at me. “So everyone down at the sperm bank should be on all kinds of invitation
lists by your thinkin’, Betsy.”
“It was a little
more than a sperm donation, if I remember right,” said Charlotte.
“It’s good you
have your memories, because that’s all it will ever be.” Judd turned toward me,
his face hardened. “Enjoy your time with your mother. I’ll be keepin’ my
distance ‘til she hits the town line.”
“Dad,” I pleaded
as he walked back out the door. In all of our years together, he had never
turned his back on me.
“Oh, Judd. Nice
seeing you, too,” my mother said to the door my father closed on us. Charlotte
rose from the table, searched my cabinet, brought down a container of creamer
and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. “After a little nap, I’ll be ready to go
with you and look at the flowers.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I thought you
were an artist,” I said to my mother a couple of hours later as we drove out to
the Stokes Flower Farm and Floral Shop.
“Oh, yes. I was
for a while, but then, I don’t know. My stuff wasn’t selling, and other things
started interesting me.”
“Like what?”
She bit her
bottom lip as she seemed to call up a list in her memory. “Um, I did makeup for
a movie.”
“That’s
exciting. Did you do the makeup of anybody I know?”
“Not unless you
have a passing acquaintance with the zombie legion.”
I laughed. My
mom was funny.
“So how long
were you a makeup artist?”
“Oh, I just did
that for that one movie. After that, I did several different things. I was a
bartender, and I arranged flowers, and I was a banquet coordinator at an L.A.
hotel … just a lot of stuff. I guess you could say I like variety in my life.”
“Was your
husband okay with that?” I said.
“Yes and no. He
always liked it when I brought home a paycheck, but he wished I would stick to
one thing,” she said. “I found out he was more like your father than I had
guessed. He plodded through day after day. No excitement.”
I found it
curious that she had stayed with him and not my father.
“Did you have
any more children? Do I have a sibling out there somewhere?”
“No. After
leaving you, I never felt like I was cut out to be a mother. Some people just
aren’t meant to have children, I guess.”
She guessed? She
was so detached it almost felt like we were talking about somebody else.
“So, you never
wanted to come back here?” I continued.
“Oh, sometimes.
The only family I had left here was an aunt, and she died over a year ago.
There just wasn’t much for me to come back to.”
I felt my
shoulders slump at her admission.
“Oh, Betsy. Of
course there was you, but I just felt like I had made such a mess of things.
You understand that, don’t you?”
I was trying,
but it was a lot to ask of the person you wronged to take your side.
We drove up the
dirt road that led to the Stokes place. A mangy-looking dog ran through a broken
fence rail.
“Oh my, maybe
your Mr. Andre was right,” Charlotte said as she peered out the window. “This
place does look pretty bad.”
“I know it looks
terrible,” I said, “but they have a greenhouse where they grow some beautiful
flowers. Martha has made some beautiful arrangements that I’ve seen at some of
the ladies clubs I’ve spoken at. She has a real gift
ago. I am a widow and my coming here was … a little impulsive.”
“She drove here
straight from California,” I said. “She started thinking she was going to the
store and just kept driving.”
“I’ll be
damned,” Judd said. “Hope you remembered to put the cat out.”
“Charlotte,” I
said. “You have to admit, you haven’t been a part of my life for most of my
life. I didn’t even think you would respond to my invitation.”
“I suppose you
didn’t, and for that I can’t blame you,” she said. I haven’t exactly been
available.”
My dad sneered
at me. “So everyone down at the sperm bank should be on all kinds of invitation
lists by your thinkin’, Betsy.”
“It was a little
more than a sperm donation, if I remember right,” said Charlotte.
“It’s good you
have your memories, because that’s all it will ever be.” Judd turned toward me,
his face hardened. “Enjoy your time with your mother. I’ll be keepin’ my
distance ‘til she hits the town line.”
“Dad,” I pleaded
as he walked back out the door. In all of our years together, he had never
turned his back on me.
“Oh, Judd. Nice
seeing you, too,” my mother said to the door my father closed on us. Charlotte
rose from the table, searched my cabinet, brought down a container of creamer
and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. “After a little nap, I’ll be ready to go
with you and look at the flowers.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I thought you
were an artist,” I said to my mother a couple of hours later as we drove out to
the Stokes Flower Farm and Floral Shop.
“Oh, yes. I was
for a while, but then, I don’t know. My stuff wasn’t selling, and other things
started interesting me.”
“Like what?”
She bit her
bottom lip as she seemed to call up a list in her memory. “Um, I did makeup for
a movie.”
“That’s
exciting. Did you do the makeup of anybody I know?”
“Not unless you
have a passing acquaintance with the zombie legion.”
I laughed. My
mom was funny.
“So how long
were you a makeup artist?”
“Oh, I just did
that for that one movie. After that, I did several different things. I was a
bartender, and I arranged flowers, and I was a banquet coordinator at an L.A.
hotel … just a lot of stuff. I guess you could say I like variety in my life.”
“Was your
husband okay with that?” I said.
“Yes and no. He
always liked it when I brought home a paycheck, but he wished I would stick to
one thing,” she said. “I found out he was more like your father than I had
guessed. He plodded through day after day. No excitement.”
I found it
curious that she had stayed with him and not my father.
“Did you have
any more children? Do I have a sibling out there somewhere?”
“No. After
leaving you, I never felt like I was cut out to be a mother. Some people just
aren’t meant to have children, I guess.”
She guessed? She
was so detached it almost felt like we were talking about somebody else.
“So, you never
wanted to come back here?” I continued.
“Oh, sometimes.
The only family I had left here was an aunt, and she died over a year ago.
There just wasn’t much for me to come back to.”
I felt my
shoulders slump at her admission.
“Oh, Betsy. Of
course there was you, but I just felt like I had made such a mess of things.
You understand that, don’t you?”
I was trying,
but it was a lot to ask of the person you wronged to take your side.
We drove up the
dirt road that led to the Stokes place. A mangy-looking dog ran through a broken
fence rail.
“Oh my, maybe
your Mr. Andre was right,” Charlotte said as she peered out the window. “This
place does look pretty bad.”
“I know it looks
terrible,” I said, “but they have a greenhouse where they grow some beautiful
flowers. Martha has made some beautiful arrangements that I’ve seen at some of
the ladies clubs I’ve spoken at. She has a real gift
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