Authors: Nancy Frederick
"I was working at the drug store.
Is something wrong?"
"I know this is crazy so soon after you bought the car, but we got a notice about the seat belts.
You'll need to bring it in and let us check them out.
Actually a whole lot of cars need belt checks."
Annabeth sighed, relieved.
"I thought you were going to tell me it was something serious.
I love that car."
"I'm so glad," said Doug, smiling into her eyes.
Charles said, "I'll go right away.
Don't worry," then flipped the phone shut, and turning toward the others said, "My wife thinks she left the iron on.
She's terrified the house will burn to the ground."
Neither Annabeth nor Doug remarked beyond the sympathetic looks they offered.
"You can get to your car without me?" he asked Annabeth.
"Okay then, see you tomorrow."
She nodded and smiled goodbye as he exited, stopping first at the bar to pay the check.
"I didn't know you worked at Gleason's," said Doug.
"This was my first day.
In fact, I should probably be leaving now.
I only came along because Charles asked me to have a burger with him.
He hates to eat alone."
"Oh," said Doug, clearly disappointed.
"Is anything else wrong?"
He looked into her eyes, took a deep breath and said softly, "My ex-wife is getting remarried this weekend."
"I guess you're depressed," said Annabeth, wondering if she ought to make such a personal remark.
He sighed, "No, I'm happy for her."
She hesitated once again, but then continued, sensing that he needed to talk, "Why do you seem so sad then?"
The waitress came over then, interrupting their conversation.
"Hi," she said to Doug.
"Hey, Wanda.
How are you?"
She nodded.
"Good.
You?"
"Good."
"What can I get for you tonight?"
"I'll have a burger plate, please.
And a Tanqueray and tonic.
How about another beer?" he asked Annabeth.
"Unless I can persuade you to eat another burger?"
She shook her head.
"I would really love a glass of water."
Wanda walked toward the kitchen and Doug resumed the conversation with Annabeth.
"I am sad, I guess."
"It's normal, isn't it--to feel left out when someone you're close to moves on without you."
Wanda returned with his drink, placing it in front of him, then said, "The burger will be right out."
"Thanks, and a glass of ice water please."
"Be right back," said the errant waitress.
Doug once again returned his focus to Annabeth.
With genuine interest and sympathy, he asked, "And how are things going with your divorce?"
"Nothing new yet.
I have to go to a meeting in a couple of weeks to look over papers and discuss details.
I can't quite believe it yet, in fact.
It's all kind of a blur."
"Being in shock is normal."
"I guess."
"I think you're doing very well.
You got a job, a new car.
You seem to be very strong, to be taking charge of your life.
I admire that."
"Me?
Gosh, I don't know."
She wondered how he could have such a good impression of her from so little, and then confessed, "I usually feel terrified."
"Starting over can feel so hard, once you've made a mistake.
Nobody wants to screw up at all, let alone more than once."
"It must have taken a lot of courage for you to come back here, to leave everything you were used to for so long."
Doug's voice lowered so that no one could overhear, "My dad asked me to come and help him with the business.
I felt it was the right thing to do.
Besides, there was nothing holding me in Atlanta on a daily basis any longer.
I can drive up and see my kids anytime I want to, but they're busy with their own lives now."
"Are they both married?"
"Betsy is--she's the oldest--a teacher.
Philip is in law school.
His last year."
Annabeth smiled.
"Oh, how nice.
My oldest--Laurel--is a display person at Saks in New Orleans.
Sally works at the bank up the street, but all she wants is to be married.
Actually it was her engagement party that you saw at Maggie's.
Of course now those plans are up in the air, but I'm sure it will all work out."
Doug shook his head.
"Who would have thought that we'd be parents of grown children, sitting here talking about adults who used to be our little kids?"
"Feel old?"
"I don't know, kind of, not old exactly, just incomplete.
But I don't want to depress you.
After all, it's you going through the divorce, not me.
Tell me, how are you doing with your art?"
"I don't really do all that much."
"You're kidding."
"Well, I paint on furniture sometimes.
Flea market junk that I decorate.
Just for fun. Though I just finished painting some pieces for Etta's Knick Knack Shop around the corner."
"You know I always thought you were so talented.
I expected you to do great things."
"Me?
Nah!"
Annabeth thought about the evening as she drove home.
She'd had a good time.
It was pleasant to spend time talking to people she didn't know well, pleasant to get to know new people better.
She glanced at the dashboard clock.
Gracious!
It was after midnight.
She had been talking with Doug for more than three hours.
How quiet Gull's Perch was this late in the evening.
So few cars were out and most of the houses were darkened.
She turned into Old Magnolia Bayou, and she rounded the corner to pull up in front of her house, which oddly was brightly lit.
Sally's car was out in front as was Jackson's.
Annabeth parked and walked toward her front door, but even before she could reach it, Sally came racing out.
"Mom!
Where in the world have you been?
I've been frantic.
I just called Jackson to come over and start looking for you.
I was an inch away from calling the police."
Annabeth reached her arm out and encircled Sally's shoulders in a calming gesture.
"I went for a burger with Charles Gleason.
Then I ran into Doug Hawkins--you know the one who sold me my car--my old high school friend.
We got to talking and the time just passed.
I'm sorry you were worried."
"What were you thinking staying out so late without calling?"
Annabeth laughed.
"The tables have turned is that it?
Am I grounded?"
Sally scowled at her mother.
"I never stayed out late and you know it.
That was always Laurel."
"I'm sorry, honey, really.
It all just kind of happened.
I'm sure it won't happen again, so don't worry."
"All right, but if you do stay out late, be sure to call."
"I promise.
Now, aren't you kids tired?
You have to be at work early tomorrow, don't you?"
Annabeth let herself in the door, leaving Sally outside to say goodnight to her fiancé.
7
Annabeth lay in bed, the cat snuggled against her side.
There was plenty of time before she had to leave for work.
She glanced at the clock.
Julie!
She still had some telephone calls to make for her sister, reminding people of various commitments for today's art show.
Fluffing up the pillows and piling them behind her, Annabeth sat up in the bed and reached for the list she'd left on the nightstand before retiring.
She placed the phone beside her in the bed and lifted the receiver to her ear.
There was no dial tone.
"Hello?" she said.
"Boy that was quick," said Laurel, "It didn't even ring."
"Hi, sweetie, how are you?
I was just going to make some calls for your aunt about today's art show."
"Guess what?" asked Laurel.
"What?"
"Southern Style."
"The magazine?" asked Annabeth.
"Well, yes."
"And?"
"And they're putting my apartment in it.
The November or December issue, I think.
They were here yesterday to photograph it for a section on New Orleans."
"You're kidding!
What did they photograph?"
"Pretty much the whole place.
Especially your paintings.
And all the furniture you painted."
"Well, gee, how about that."
"I thought it was exciting.
I mean it's not Architectural Digest or anything like that, but still it's kind of fun."
"I can't wait to see it."
"We did a great job.
I'm surprised Design isn't knocking at the door."
"I'm glad you're so happy, dear.
How are things otherwise?"
"Oh, the same.
How's the job?"
"You know, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry."
Annabeth paused before continuing, "I shouldn't joke.
It's fine really.
Charles and Chuck Gleason are both nice men.
I sell ice cream, do little displays, sometimes draw a sign for them."
"And I hear one of them is in love with you."
"What?"
"Sally says you've been out late twice since you started."
"Well, gee, a hamburger and an hour's conversation with my married boss. That's not exactly violins.
And how is your love life--now that's a real question."
"I've been dating this guy, Zach, if you must know."
"Yes, I must.
Tell me everything."
Annabeth listened as Laurel offered a few details describing her most recent boyfriend, then continued, "And how is your career?"
"It's great, really."
"I'm glad."
After completing Julie's errands, there was plenty of time before she was due at work, so Annabeth took some time to stroll along downtown at the sidewalk sale and arts and crafts show.
There were tables with hand made dolls, which Annabeth admired and a variety of pottery and leather exhibits.
One woman had taken some key racks and painted flowers on them, and Annabeth stopped to look at them more closely, smiling at the artist.
"I paint on furniture too," she volunteered.
"Oh, do you?
I've mainly stuck to these key racks and these little boxes."
"They're pretty."
Annabeth examined the boxes more closely, stacking a couple smaller ones on top of a bigger on.
"That makes a pretty display."
"Yes, it does look better that way.
Where's your table?"
"Oh, I don't have a table here.
I've never exhibited anything, though Etta has some of my things--the first I've ever done to sell."
"I saw those things at Etta's.
They're beautiful.
I love the birds.
Your things are full of life.
You could sell them at shows like I do."
"Well, thanks.
I never really thought of that."
"I don't make a lot of money, but I make some, and I get to do what I love."
"Excuse me," said a customer, "How much are these boxes?
The whole set, I mean?"
"I should let you go," said Annabeth.
"Take my card," offered the woman.
"Call me and I'll give you some pointers."