The Empty Nesters Page 9

  “Okay, now I’m ready for a real breakfast.” Diana got up and swung her legs over the seat.

  “And we’re all finished, so you can eat on the road,” Tootsie said.

  “Fair enough,” Diana agreed. “And I’ll even volunteer to do the kitchen cleanup since I slept in a little longer than y’all did this morning.”

  Carmen raised a hand. “If that’s the case, then I’ll have to help you, because I’m planning on eating another biscuit with strawberry jam in it. And I would love to go to that museum. Natalie and I have watched Gone with the Wind a dozen times.”

  “I’ll wash and you can dry,” Diana suggested.

  “I’ll take care of the paper plates out here and get things ready to roll.” Luke offered Diana his hand. When she took it, he pulled her up to a standing position. “You going to the museum?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d rather go with Tootsie to the antique stores.”

  “Me, too.” He cleared the table and shoved the paper plates into the trash barrel.

  “I’ll go with Carmen.” Joanie picked up the tray with the dirty coffee cups and carafes on it. “I love Gone with the Wind. That Scarlett is my kind of sass.”

  Tootsie held the door for her. “Yep, she’s always been my idol, too.”

  Carmen took the handle from Tootsie and followed her inside. “After the inspiration she gave you for your party dress, I’d love to see it sometime.”

  “I’ll do you one better than just showing it to you,” Tootsie said. “You’re about the same size I am. When you get past all this divorce shit, I’ll let you borrow it to wear on your first formal whatever with a handsome hunk of a guy.”

  “It’ll be rotten by then,” Carmen assured her. “Maybe you’ll wear it when you date again.”

  Tootsie drained what was left of the coffee into her cup and turned off the pot. “Honey, it really would be rotted away to nothing if it’s waiting on me to wear it again. Smokey Colbert was my first and only love, and I’m too damned old to even look at another man. I’ve got you girls and your daughters to keep me busy. I don’t have time for anything or anyone else.”

  “Hey, now. What about me? Don’t you have to look after me, too?” Luke asked as he entered the motor home.

  “If you’ll move out of Houston to a place closer to me, I’ll include you in that.” Tootsie shook her finger under his nose.

  “It could be arranged,” Luke said.

  Diana wondered what it would be like if he lived closer. What if he asked her out? Would she accept?

  Joanie poked her in the arm. “Your eyebrows are drawn down like you’re arguing with yourself.”

  “You’re right. I was,” Diana answered.

  “About what?” Tootsie asked.

  “A crazy notion that would never work. You said you’ve got another book for Carmen when she finishes the one she’s reading. Can I read it? I promise I’ll get it done before she needs it.” Diana quickly changed the subject.

  “Sure thing.” Tootsie headed to the back of the motor home.

  They were on the road when Diana and Carmen finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Carmen headed to her bunk to read more of the book that Tootsie had given her. Diana went to her bed with the one that Tootsie lent her. She hoped that by reading she would forget about the way her heart had tossed in that extra beat when Luke’s shoulder had touched hers earlier while they were having breakfast.

  Tootsie was glad for a door that closed, offering her a little privacy in the tiny bedroom in the motor home. She picked up Smokey’s picture and sat down on the bed. “Well, darlin’, I made it through the first two things without you. We went to the Old Smokey Cook-Off yesterday, and I stayed strong. The barbecue was good, but not as good as what you make. And it was real nice to have the girls and Luke with me. I’d have been lost out there in the crowd all by myself. And last night I saw Delores. We talked about the past, and I felt old and alone, probably like she has since Jimmy died. The difference is her kids are all scattered across the world, and ours are right here with me. I know they aren’t blood kin, but if we’d adopted like we talked about all those years ago, they could be, so that’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.” The corners of her mouth turned up.

  Her phone rang, and she answered it with a sigh. “Hello, Midge.”

  “How you holdin’ up?” Midge had been Tootsie’s friend since long before either of them could walk. Her voice sounded even weaker than it had when Tootsie had talked to her a couple of weeks ago.

  “Pretty good,” Tootsie answered. “How are you feelin’ these days?”

  “I’ve got hospice now, but I’m glad you’re coming to Scrap so I can see you one more time. Sissy was going to call, but I wanted to hear your voice. I’m supposed to tell you that the house is ready, the truck has been taken to town for servicing, and the leaves are raked. But you know that’s a never-ending job this time of year.” Midge was panting for breath by the time she finished the last words.

  “Hello, Tootsie. Sissy here.” Midge’s younger sister sounded tired. “We have it on speakerphone. Midge can’t talk very long at a time, but like she said, she wanted to hear your voice. And I wanted to tell you that there’s a pot roast in the fridge for your first day, and I bought a few groceries—just the staples, milk and bread and such. The thermostat is set, so the house should be warm, and the beds are all fresh. Anything else I need to have done before y’all get here?”

  “No, I believe you’ve covered everything. You shouldn’t have done so much, Sissy, but thank you.” Tears welled up in Tootsie’s eyes. Midge was the last of the little group of girls that she’d started school with three-quarters of a century ago. Gloria, Midge, and Tootsie had been inseparable, best friends from the time they were toddlers in the church nursery and then through all twelve years of school. “I’ll be down there to see y’all day after tomorrow. We’ll get settled, and then I’ll come spend the day.”

  “Thanks. We’ll have a long visit,” Midge said.

  “See you then. Will you be here for dinner?” Sissy asked.

  “Before that. First thing in the morning,” Tootsie told her.

  “We’ll have the red carpet laid out,” Midge said, and then there was a pause.

  “I took the phone off speaker and brought it to the kitchen. The hospice nurse says maybe a week but probably only a couple of more days, and that might be stretching it. I’m so glad you’re coming. It will mean the world to her to see you,” Sissy said.

  “This breaks my heart.” Tootsie’s voice cracked.

  “Mine, too, but I’ve seen her suffer so much these past three months that I’ve told God to take her when He’s ready. I just hope He don’t come before you get here. Be safe,” Sissy said. “It’s time for her pain medicine, so I have to go now.”

  Tootsie stared at the blank screen for a long time before she laid the phone to the side and turned her focus back to Smokey’s picture. “Midge will be gone within a week. I talked to her and Sissy today. I’m going to see her on Tuesday. I’d go tomorrow, but I’ve got to get the girls all settled in first. Sissy says the house is taken care of. I expect she had one of her grandkids do it this year. Losing you and seeing Delores with a cane, and now losing Midge and knowing that Gloria’s been gone for years—it’s almost too much to endure.”

  Luke’s mind went around in circles as he drove north that morning. The last time he’d made this trip with Tootsie and Smokey, he’d been a little boy, so he didn’t remember much about Jefferson. When he traveled to see them by himself, he seldom had time to stay more than one night. So he’d fly in to Texarkana and rent a car to drive on up to Scrap. Now he wished he’d sold his company a year before so he could have visited them more.

  “Want some company?” Diana asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

  “Love some,” he said. “I was just feeling guilty that I didn’t spend more time with Aunt Tootsie and Uncle Smokey before he died. They’ve always been so active and full
of life; I guess I just thought they’d be that couple forever.”

  “Life doesn’t come with guarantees. All of us felt the same way when Smokey dropped with his heart attack. One evening he was grilling steaks for us; the next morning he was gone. Guess it’s a lesson to all of us not to take a single moment for granted,” she said.

  “Amen,” Luke agreed.

  Tootsie came out of her room, got a root beer from the refrigerator, and took it to the table. “I had two best friends the whole time I was in school. Gloria died ten years ago, and Midge is at the end of her life. I’ll be going to see her on Tuesday and probably spending the whole day.”

  “I’ll be glad to go with you,” Diana said.

  “We can all go.” Joanie scooted around on the bench and draped an arm around Tootsie’s shoulders.

  “There’s only room for two in the pickup truck, and there’s things I need to say to Midge, so I’m going alone.” Tootsie laid her head on Joanie’s shoulder.

  “So y’all’ve been friends for more than seventy years?” Carmen got down off the bunk and slid into the booth on the other side of Tootsie.

  “Probably longer than that. Her mother was Tootsie, and Gloria’s was Arlene. They were my mother’s best friends, and those are the folks I’m named after. Gloria was named for my mother, and Midge for my grandmother. We were in the church nursery together and started and finished school at the same time. Now it’s just me and Midge, and I need to spend some time with her,” Tootsie said.

  “Is she in a nursing home?” Diana asked.

  “No, her sister, Sissy, is taking care of her. Sissy was one of those change-of-life babies and was born when we were all sixteen. Midge’s kids have all passed away, so when she got too sick to live alone, Sissy took her into her house. She’s got hospice.” Tootsie’s voice cracked.

  “I’m going with you whether you like it or not,” Luke declared. “I’ll drive and stay in the truck, or else I could go on down to Clarksville and pick up any supplies we might need for the week. But you shouldn’t be driving alone under these circumstances.”

  “I’ll agree if you’ll just drop me off and then come back and wait until I’m ready,” Tootsie said. “That’ll give you girls a day to get settled in and get the lay of the land.”

  “Fair enough,” Luke agreed. “If Midge is really bad, we could forgo the Jefferson stop and drive on to Scrap this afternoon. That way you could go see her tomorrow instead of waiting another day. We could be there by suppertime.”

  “I promised Joanie and Carmen a tour of the Gone with the Wind Museum,” Tootsie answered.

  “And we can do that another time. Maybe we’ll make a day trip down there in the motor home between now and Thanksgiving.” Carmen patted her on the arm. “Midge is more important right now.”

  “If you’re sure, that would be great.” Tootsie dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

  Luke raised his voice. “Next stop, Scrap, Texas.”

  “You want your seat up here in the front?” Diana asked.

  “No, darlin’, I’m going back to my bedroom to watch Designing Women. I’ve got all the seasons on discs, and it’ll help pass the time from here to there,” Tootsie said. “Anyone who wants to join me is welcome.”

  “I’ll make a bag of popcorn,” Joanie said.

  “I’ll bring root beers.” Carmen slid out of the booth and headed toward the refrigerator.

  Luke glanced over at Diana, expecting to see her unfastening her seat belt.

  “I’ll join y’all after a bit. I’m going to stay up here for a little while longer,” Diana said.

  Luke’s job meant that he spent hours and hours alone, so he didn’t mind driving with no one to talk to. But he did like being able to catch a sideways glimpse of Diana whenever he wanted.

  Chapter Seven

  Tootsie had always gotten antsy when she and Smokey got close to Scrap, but that afternoon it was even worse than usual. She picked up Smokey’s picture and held it close to her heart.

  “It’s going to be tough to go in the house without you, darlin’. In all our travels, this was the home base, even after retirement. I was a fool to think it would be the same without you. If I didn’t need to see Midge tomorrow, I’d tell Luke to turn this rig around and take us back to San Antonio,” she said.

  Stop it! I left you with three beautiful girls and a nephew. They all need help in one way or another, and you’re the one they’ll be leaning on, so buck up, sweetheart. I’m always with you in spirit, if not in the flesh. Smokey’s voice was so real that the short hairs on her neck stood straight up.

  “You rascal, you could have been talking to me all the time.” She shook her finger at the picture. “I might feel your spirit, but what I want to feel is your arms around me when I walk into the house.”

  She waited and even looked up at the ceiling, but Smokey didn’t have anything else to say.

  The motor home almost came to a stop, and then Luke slowly turned to the left. Tootsie went to the window, drew back the curtain, and looked at the trees lining the short lane. The sugar maples had already lost half their leaves, but what remained were deep red, orange, and yellow all mingled together. She opened the window slightly and breathed in the brisk fall air. Most folks called this football weather, but not Tootsie. This was going home to Scrap, Texas, weather, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to get into the house.

  Luke brought the motor home to a stop. Tootsie hurried to the door and swung it open. “Home!” she squealed. “We’re here, and it hasn’t changed a bit.”

  I’m waiting for you, darlin’. Let’s go in and let the memories begin, Smokey whispered in her ear.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she planted her feet on familiar ground, the fall leaves crunching under her as she made her way from the motor home to the front porch. She hesitated a moment before she used the key to unlock the door. Smokey wouldn’t really be there when she went inside. He’d never be with her in the flesh again. She finally took a deep breath and thought about the last time they’d been there. He’d kissed her at the door, like always, and said, “Let’s go in and let the memories begin.”

  “If that’s all I’ve got, then I’ll be grateful for every one of them,” she muttered as she opened the door and took the first step inside the old house. Nothing had changed. The forty-year-old sofa was still sitting against the far wall of the living room, and the matted and framed marriage license was still hanging above it. Stairs off to the right led up to three bedrooms and a bathroom. She headed straight ahead through a small kitchen and peeked into the utility room and bathroom before she went through the archway from the kitchen into the dining room.

  After she’d made her way around the table and past the buffet, she stared at the door a full minute to build up her courage. Finally, she reached out and put her hand on the knob and turned it. She closed her eyes tightly as she stepped into the bedroom she and Smokey had shared for twenty of the sixty years they’d been coming here.

  “You’re right, darlin’,” she whispered as she opened her eyes wide. “Your spirit is here. Don’t go away. I’ve got to get the girls settled in, and then I’ll be right back.”

  She stopped at the door and looked back, imagining Smokey propped up on pillows at the head of the bed. He had a book in his hands, and he looked up and smiled at her. “I love you, Smokey. Thanks for giving me that memory.”

  She rushed back through the house to find Luke holding the door for them as they brought their suitcases inside. “Luke, you can take that luggage up to the landing. Y’all girls can choose your rooms in a few minutes, but first let me show you through the rest of the house. It’s not very big, but after the motor home, it seems like a huge place. This side of the downstairs is fairly open. Living room, kitchen, utility, and small bathroom—mine while we’re here.” She gestured toward each as she spoke. Then she ushered them into the dining room. “That room right there”—she pointed to the open door—“used to be a formal living room. When Smokey ha
d a knee replaced about twenty years ago and couldn’t maneuver the steps so well, we turned it into our bedroom. Smartest thing we ever did. We dang sure didn’t need a formal living room, and we were both getting too old to climb stairs.”

  “I thought we were coming to a little cabin in the woods, not a big house like this,” Joanie said. “Who takes care of this when you aren’t here?”

  “My friend Midge did before she took sick. Now she and Sissy hire a handyman to take care of it for us.” Tootsie remembered that there was no us anymore, just a me. She wiped a tear away before anyone else could see it. “I’ll get my suitcase and bring it in while y’all get settled.”

  “I’ll take care of that for you.” Luke followed her outside and handed her a clean white handkerchief. “How are you holding up?”

  She wiped at the tears that had begun a steady flow down her cheeks. “Not so good. I can feel Smokey in the house, but . . .” She stepped up into the motor home and sat down in the passenger seat. “Feeling him here, even imagining him here, isn’t the same.”

  Luke knelt in the space between the two seats and wrapped her up in his arms. “I knew it would be tough. I’ve got this hollow space in my chest that’s putting a lump in my throat. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

  She patted him on the shoulder. “I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, I didn’t think that you’d be grieving, too.”

  “We’ve got each other to lean on,” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Yes, we do.” She handed the handkerchief back to him. “But for now I’ve got to get myself together and be strong for the girls. They’re empty nesters, you know, and that’s every bit as big a grieving process as what we’re going through, plus poor Carmen is dealing with the divorce. Being needed is a big help.”