Dinner went well. Erin ate two helpings of salad, and she snuck a smidge of the ham casserole when she thought nobody was looking. Mary Bliss felt pleased and relieved. She served up little ice cream dishes of the strawberry parfait and poured wine for herself and Randy, and milk for the kids.
Jeremy, the eight-year-old, was spooning up the strawberries as fast as he could, while Jason, his younger brother, seemed intent on studying his surroundings. “Miz McGowan, this is a nice house,” he said, pausing to dab milk from his upper lip.
Mary Bliss winked at Erin. “Why, thank you, Jason. I’m glad you like it.”
He looked around the kitchen, cozy in the candlelight. “Y’all got a lot of pots!”
“Yes,” Mary Bliss agreed. “I guess I dirty up a lot of pots and pans when I cook. Erin’s always complaining, because she has to do the dishes.”
“Well, that’s good,” Jason said, smiling in satisfaction. “I guess my mama was wrong.”
Randy coughed and Josh coughed, and Jeremy put down his spoon to listen.
“What was your mama wrong about, Jason?” Mary Bliss asked gently.
“Well,” Jason said, sitting up straight, proud to be the center of attention. “My mama said Erin’s daddy died, and now y’all don’t have a pot to piss in. But y’all got bunches and bunches of pots!”
There was a sudden thump from under the table, and Jason howled, bending down to examine his wounded foot.
“Excuse me,” Josh said, hopping up from the table. “Guess I better take Jason home, to see if he needs a Band-Aid or something.” He yanked his little brother out of the chair and out the kitchen door before Mary Bliss could blink an eye.
Randy’s face was beet-red. “I’m sorry, Mary Bliss,” he said, his voice low. “You know how kids are…”
“I’ll clear the dishes off, Mama,” Erin said, jumping up too. “Jeremy will help, won’t you, buddy? You guys go out on the porch. I’ll bet that rain we had when I was driving home cooled things off.”
Outside, sitting in the rocker, watching the water drip down from the gutters, Mary Bliss laughed until her sides hurt.
She laughed so hard, Randy Bowden couldn’t get a word in edge-wise for a full five minutes.
“Oh,” she said finally, wiping the tears from her eyes. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”
“It’s not funny. It’s appalling,” Randy said. She couldn’t see his face in the dark, but from the tone of his voice she knew he was mortified.
“Nancye says that kind of thing in front of the boys all the time,” Randy went on. “Her language is disgusting. And we won’t even discuss her behavior, which has made her the talk of Fair Oaks.”
Now it was Mary Bliss’s turn to apologize.
“I’m sorry it’s so embarrassing for you,” she said. “I’ve had my own share of trouble lately, so I know it’s no fun being the subject of petty gossip. But still, you have to admit it’s pretty funny. Poor little Jason looking around to make sure Miz McGowan has a pot to piss in.”
She covered her mouth with her hand because she felt another fit of giggles coming on.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Randy asked.
“A little,” she admitted. “But what really bothers me is the fact that Nancye’s essentially right. It’s no use trying to hide it. I’m broke.”
“I’d heard that,” Randy said. “Do you mind talking about it? I don’t mean to pry, but you’re my neighbor, and I care what happens to you, Mary Bliss.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Mary Bliss said. “Parker must have been working on some big business deal. He liquidated all our assets, took out a balloon note on the house, even cashed in his life insurance. And then he died, before he could tell me what he was working on.”
“God,” Randy said. “I’d heard rumors around town, but I had no idea things were that bad.”
“They’re bad,” Mary Bliss said. “But I think we’ll squeak by. Charlie Weidman has been wonderful, helping with all the paperwork and things.”
“But,” Randy started.
“I think that’s all I want to say about my finances for now,” Mary Bliss said firmly. “I appreciate your concern, and I really don’t mind your knowing, but let’s just leave it at that. All right?”
“I could kill Nancye,” Randy said darkly.
“I feel the same way about Parker,” Mary Bliss said. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”
The front door opened. “Mama?” Erin said. “The dishes are all done. I’m going over to Jessica’s for a while.”
“This late?” Mary Bliss asked, dismayed. “It’s nearly ten.”
“I don’t have to work tomorrow,” Erin said. “And I forgot to tell you, I’m supposed to go down to Macon for an all-day soccer clinic. Coach is picking me up at eight, and we’re all spending the night down there.”
“Overnight?” Mary Bliss stood up. “I don’t remember filling out any permission slips for an overnight soccer clinic.”
“Mama!” Erin wailed. “It was way back in spring. Remember? Coach gave us our summer workout schedule, and this was on there. God. You’re such a space cadet. I’ll be back day after tomorrow.”
“You never had to go on an overnight clinic before,” Mary Bliss protested. She heard a faint inner alarm go off. Part of it was money. Soccer was a ridiculously expensive sport. Every time she turned around, she was doling out money for tournament fees or shin guards or cleats or summer camps.
“This is a specialty camp. For goalies. Don’t worry. We’re staying in a college dorm down there, and everybody’s bringing food from home. Coach says it’s the cheapest camp he could find on the Internet.”
Mary Bliss was really getting tired of hearing what coach says. Since Isaac Brownlee had taken over coaching the girls’ soccer team at Fair Oaks Academy two years earlier, Mary Bliss had endured a steady diet of the gospel according to coach.
Parker loved Isaac Brownlee, of course. He loved that Brownlee took the Fair Oaks team from perennial last-place losers to state runners-up in the space of two short years.
“Look,” Erin said impatiently, “I gotta go. Don’t worry about getting up with me in the morning. I’ve got my stuff all packed. See you Friday, okay?”
“Leave me a phone number,” Mary Bliss called as the front door slammed behind her daughter.
“Soccer, huh?” Randy said, sounding wistful. “I wish Josh were interested in sports. All he wants to do is sit in his room all day and play computer games and mess with his guitar.”
“At least he’s home,” Mary Bliss said. She watched as Erin’s Honda sped down the driveway and out into the street.
“Hard to believe they’re going to be seniors,” Randy said. “After next year, they’ll be leaving home.”
“Don’t remind me,” Mary Bliss said. “The house already seems empty most of the time.”
“I’ve got three guys living with me across the street,” Randy said. “But at night, after they’re all in bed, seems like I’m the last one in the world still up.”
“I see your light some nights,” Mary Bliss said.
“You should call me.”
“I wouldn’t want to wake the boys,” Mary Bliss said. “Anyway. I’m probably not very good company nights like those.”
“You’re always good company,” Randy said. “And that’s not just fancy words. I mean it, Mary Bliss.”
“Katharine says I’m no fun anymore,” she replied. “She was bugging me today to go to the country club dance with her. Stag. It sounds hideous, doesn’t it?”
“Totally hideous. But I still have to go,” Randy said. His voice had a note of hope in it. “I’m outgoing president, you know. So there’s no way I can get out of it. If you don’t want to go stag with Katharine, maybe, you could, like, ride with me.”
“God, no.” She said it before thinking. “I don’t mean it like that,” she added quickly. “I’d love to go with you under other circumstances. You’ve been a great friend to me, since all this happened. But we both know how gossip spreads in this town. Parker’s only been dead a month, and you and Nancye…is the divorce final yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, sounding mournful. “She told the kids she’s engaged, though. Josh came home the other day and told me he went to the Braves game with his new daddy. Nancye’s lawyers are still hammering away at me. She gave up on custody of the kids, but she’s convinced there’s still some more money she can wring out of me.”
“She’s got a job, doesn’t she?”
Randy laughed. “She makes more money than me, if you want the truth of the matter. And the ‘new daddy’ is supposedly a professor at Emory.”
“You know,” Mary Bliss said, sounding surprised. “I don’t think I ever knew what Nancye does for a living. She’s got a PhD, doesn’t she?”
“You won’t believe it if I tell you,” Randy said.
“Try me.”
“She’s a sex therapist.”
Mary Bliss couldn’t control the giggles this time.
“Yeah, it always gets a big laugh at the bank too,” Randy said. “It seemed a lot funnier before all this happened.”
Mary Bliss stood up, stretched and yawned. “Guess I better go in and finish up the dishes Erin probably left me.”
He followed her inside. Mary Bliss stopped at the door of the den. “Look,” she whispered.
The television was on, playing Erin’s Aladdin video. Jeremy was curled up on the floor, inches away from the television, fast asleep.
“How precious,” Mary Bliss whispered.
Randy picked his son up, cradling him in his arms. “It’s the only way he sleeps.”
“What? On the floor?”
“In front of the television. I put him to bed, and he cries and fusses until I let him go in the den and turn on the television, and put in a Disney video. Aladdin is his favorite.”
“Really? I always thought of that as a little girl’s movie. It was Erin’s favorite too.”
“I don’t think it’s the movie he likes so much,” Randy said. “It’s Jasmine. Her voice. He told me one night, when he was nearly asleep, ‘Jasmine sounds like Mommy.’ ”
Mary Bliss sighed. “They’ll break your heart.”