Martha Ann stopped and stared at him then.
"I'm not that much older than you, Bob, but I know a thing or two that you don't. Good marriages are built on love, mutual respect, trust, and forgiveness. If what my daughter tells me is true, y'all have some work to do to make things right between you again. I know you love her. It just took you a while to realize it. And you wouldn't be here if you didn't. But trust was broken. Now if you can reestablish mutual respect, let's hope there's enough forgiveness in her heart for my granddaughter to grow up with two parents."
"I am certainly going to try," Bob said.
"We'll see. Just remember this, Bob. She's my child and I will always take her side, especially now that I know what you are capable of doing. Now I've said my piece. So if you two can mend your fence, I'd love to have you all stay for supper. Belle baked a gorgeous ham and fixed a wonderful pot of b.u.t.ter beans with rice and of course biscuits. And we've got some tomatoes from our garden."
"I'd like nothing better than to stay for dinner. Thank you for the invitation."
Martha Ann smiled. "Just because the whole world is going to h.e.l.l, that doesn't mean we can't have a civilized supper, does it?"
"No, ma'am," Bob said.
"Good. I'll send Maritza to you. I'll be with Olivia, measuring. She's going to redo my den for me. Isn't that wonderful? All the ladies in Cartaret will be just green!"
"I suspect they are anyway," Bob said, reminding himself it was good to suck up to his mother-in-law in one breath and cursing himself for being a suck-up in the next.
Bob walked into the living room across the ancient Aubusson rug and began looking around. He had not been there since he asked for Maritza's hand in marriage. The room was decidedly feminine, furnished in jacquard silk fabrics of green and pink stripes and florals. And there was a lot of fringe trim on almost everything. Bob hated it all, except for the rug and the pictures of Maritza.
There was a large oil portrait in a heavy gold baroque frame of Martha Ann wearing a gown and pearls hanging over the fireplace. It was clearly painted when she was much younger, although she was still a beautiful woman. Landscapes in similar frames that represented different aspects of the South hung everywhere-Audubon prints of egrets wading in the marshes and great blue herons perched on branches. There were paintings of hunting dogs, framed photographs of young Maritza from her debutante ball with her parents and alone in small silver frames on all the tabletops, and a framed letter from a long-dead governor in recognition of some great accomplishment of an ancient relative. It was interesting to Bob to consider the things that people put on display to represent their lives to visitors. Martha Ann's living room was all about her wealth and what she thought was her lofty social position in life. Bob could not have cared any less than he did about what went on in polite society. He didn't want to join a private club or go to charity b.a.l.l.s, although he supported plenty of good causes with an annual gift.
Maritza's family had been in Mississippi for a very long time and had distinguished themselves in many ways besides building a business that employed over half of the town. They could trace their ancestors back to the American Revolution. Maybe further. But one of the reasons Bob loved Maritza was because she had shirked her debutante history for the private lifestyle he preferred. She had loved him completely. And he had ruined it all.
Maritza was standing in the room staring at his back.
"Bob?"
He turned to see her and again realized just how beautiful she was. His heart started to race.
"Maritza! Sweetheart! Oh, G.o.d! I'm so sorry! I love you so much!"
He was moving in on her to take her in his arms. She held up her hand to stop him, and stop him she did. He came to a screeching halt like a cartoon character.
"Hold it right there, Mr. Robert Vasile! Talk's mighty cheap. You're going to agree to a few things or us making up just ain't going to work."
"Anything! Just tell me!"
"Okay. Number one. No more nannies! You've got enough money that I don't have to work. So what do we need a nanny for? I didn't become a mother to have a situation like we had with Ellen. I'm going to be Gladdie's full-time mother and I want you to act like an equal parent with me. If I say no to something she wants, you have to say no too. We back each other up."
"One hundred percent."
"Good. When we want to go out, I'll get a babysitter, a sitter of my choice whom I hire and fire. When we travel, Gladdie comes with us. I make the call if we're gonna need help on the trip. Agreed? She's not even in school yet. But if we need to go off somewhere when she is in school, my momma is coming to stay with her."
"Sure. That sounds perfectly reasonable."
"Number two. I'm not traveling with Dorothy and Mich.e.l.le and, G.o.d knows, Colette ever again-no exceptions! You want a boys' weekend with Buddy and Sam? Be my guest. But I don't want those women in my life. Agreed?"
"Done! I don't like them anyway. They're awful. I spit on them. Well, I have to deal with Mich.e.l.le because of business."
"Buy her out."
"Done!"
"Okay. Just one more thing."
"What's that?"
"This is my life, Bob. This is not a joke where I'm just one of your arms like that Hindu G.o.d that has so many arms not one of them is more important than any other. We are going to be equal partners and I am going to be involved in every single part of your life. You will never take my love for granted. And if I ever catch you in a lie again, it's over. I will clean your blessed clock. Do you understand? Not even a fib."
"I swear I'm going to be the ideal husband, Maritza. I love you so very much."
"Then I'll be the ideal wife. Come here, you big stinker."
She allowed Bob to put his arms around her. And that grew into an embrace like they had not shared in months, maybe even ever. Bob wanted to weep with happiness, and he was profoundly grateful for the second chance. He kissed the side of her neck and she shivered.
"Oh, Lord, you still got it, you old dog!" Maritza said and laughed. "Now come on, let's get ourselves to the table. Belle's gonna switch our hides. Ain't nothing worse than cold biscuits."
After the most scrumptious dinner anyone could remember, it was time to leave.
"This was so wonderful," Olivia said.
"I'm telling you the truth, Martha Ann. I cannot recall a more delicious meal in my entire life. I did not know b.u.t.ter beans could be so flavorful. And the biscuits? Out of this world!"
"Well, thank you, Bob. It's just plain old southern home cooking. I think Belle was putting together a peach cobbler for us too."
"If I eat any more I'll die!" Bob said.
"I can cook like this, and when we get home, I will!" Maritza said.
Bob reached out and took her hand in his.
"You know who would love these tomatoes, don't you?" Olivia said. "My Nick! He's just crazy about tomatoes! He waits all year for the Johns Island farmers to bring them to market."
"Then I'm going to give you a bushel to take to him. And some peaches. Let's see what he thinks about Mississippi dirt," Martha Ann said with a smile.
"Wow! Thank you! Nick will be thrilled!"
"Gosh, it's just heavenly to be together as a family," Martha Ann said. "Y'all aren't thinking about leaving tonight, are you?"
"I've got meetings in the city day after tomorrow, but I think we can stay the night if it's not an inconvenience," Bob said and turned to Maritza. "Would you like to stay the night, sweetheart?"
"I would, sweetheart," Maritza said.
"Yay! Grandmomma? Would you please tuck me in tonight?" Gladdie said.
Olivia noted that Gladdie's metamorphosis into an angelic child included please and thank you and a voice at a normal decibel.
"Yes, ma'am! And I can read a story to you too! All your momma's books are still in her bedroom. You can sleep in her canopy bed with all her old stuffed animals and feel like a real fairy princess!"
"My old bedroom is a shrine to my childhood," Maritza said.
"That's so great," Olivia said.
"There's nothing wrong with being so loved," Martha Ann said. "And there's everything wrong with being so missed. I want you to promise me that I'll see y'all more often."
"As often as you can stand us," Bob said.
Olivia said, "You know what? I'm going to call United Airlines and find out if they have a flight to Charleston tonight. Y'all need this time together as a family, and I have a husband waiting for me who needs a tomato sandwich."
"Did you just say y'all?" Maritza asked.
"I'm almost southern." Olivia laughed.
"No, you're not calling United. We're going to ask Jim to tear himself away from Belle's company and drive you to Jackson. Then you can take my plane to Charleston."
"Our plane," Maritza said.
"I stand corrected. Our plane." Bob smiled.
"Are you sure? I don't mind flying commercial," Olivia said.
"Consider this a small bonus for tolerating my insanity all these years. And when you need to come here to do what you have to do for Martha Ann, I'll send it to you. You just have to promise to bring Maritza and Gladdie."
"That's a deal, sir."
Olivia boarded Bob's plane with a box of tomatoes and peaches and a plastic container of peach cobbler. Nick's going to love this, she thought. She was more exhausted than she had ever been. Olivia buckled her seatbelt and thought about the resolution she had reached with Maritza over the working-for-Colette debacle. Maritza understood that Olivia had been put in an impossible position that would cost her either way. In a highly unusual move, Olivia had leveled with Maritza about her financial situation. The best part of the overall conclusion was that Maritza promised she would try to find another house in Nantucket. Meanwhile, Olivia might consider doing some commercial design work for Bob's restaurants.
One thing Olivia decided was that Bob and Martiza's life was too crazy for her. She was so happy when she heard Maritza say what she was going to tell Bob.
The mystery of Maritza was solved. She was not immoral, although it wasn't nice to sleep with Bob when he was married to Colette. But on second thought, the fact that it was Colette almost justified it. Well, Olivia thought, love happens and those two are surely in love.
She couldn't wait to tell Nick about Jim and Belle and Bob on his knees. She chuckled every time she envisioned it. And she was going to plant Confederate jasmine.
And tomatoes. She was going to plant tomatoes, so many that they'd never run out of them. And some basil, rosemary, and thyme.
She couldn't wait to get started. Maybe Martha Ann would give her some tips.
And then she fell into a deep sleep and slept the whole way to Charleston.
When she landed, there was a car waiting for her, another considerate gesture of Bob's. Or maybe it was Maritza who thought of it. It didn't matter. It was after ten o'clock at night and it might have taken a long while for a taxi to arrive. In any case, she was glad to see it. She had been taken care of by Bob, who truly was a new man. At least for that one day. Time would tell, she thought.
When they arrived at her house on the island, her driver carried her luggage and packages to the door for her.
"Thanks," she said.
"Any time," he said.
She didn't ring the doorbell because there was a good chance that Nick would be asleep at that hour. The house was in complete darkness, which was odd. But he did not know she was coming in that night. Or did he? His new habit was to rise early and chase fish. She smiled thinking about that. The door was locked, so she dug through her handbag for her keys and let herself in. It took so long to open the door and finally it opened itself. She took the food to the kitchen and dropped it on the counter and then she took her suitcase to the bedroom, careful not to make any noise that might wake Nick.
To her surprise, the bed was still made. She turned on the overhead light. Nick was definitely not there. Suddenly she was alarmed. Where was he? At this late hour?
"Nick! Nick!" She called his name loudly, not caring then if she woke him up. Maybe he had fallen asleep on a sofa? Or in his leather chair?
He was not in the bathroom or his study or the living room. She turned on lights as she went from place to place. Maybe the porch? She hurried outside, and there he was in his favorite rocking chair wearing his new fishing hat. She was so relieved.
"Nick? Hey, baby! I'm home!"
There was no response. Was he asleep?
She was doubly panicked as she hurried around him to wake him. There was no breath in him. Was he dead?
"Nick? Sweetheart? Baby? Please don't be . . ."
She couldn't bring herself to say the word. But then the horrible reality began to sink in. Nick was gone, no longer among the living. She stood there staring at his lifeless body, unsure of what to do. A few moments pa.s.sed and she realized she had to call someone. She dialed 911, and within minutes the Sullivans Island Fire and Rescue Department was there with an ambulance from EMS. The island coroner arrived and declared Nicholas Seymour dead of natural causes.
"Most likely a heart attack," the doctor said.
"Oh, no!" Olivia said. Her first thought then was could he have been saved with a bypa.s.s procedure? When was the last time he'd had a stress test? She wouldn't sleep until she knew.
"Where would you like us to deliver the body?" the EMS worker said.
"I don't know. We just moved here. Wait. You look familiar to me," Olivia said.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm the guy who helped you on the beach a couple of weeks back. This is your time."
"My time? What do you mean? I think I'm going to faint!" she said and someone helped her to a chair.
But before all these sympathetic and helpful folks arrived she had a moment with Nick's body. He had a stain on his shirt. She kissed the tips of her own fingers and touched the spot tenderly. His fishing hat was lopsided and she gently straightened it. And then she began to weep, wondering if her tears would ever stop.
"Oh Nick, what am I going to do without you? I loved you with all my heart. This is so unfair! What am I going to do now?"
And her Nick was just there, slumped to the side.
Her next-door neighbor's husband just walked in the house saying he saw the ambulance, heard the sirens, and saw the lights. He was asking if there was anything he or his wife could do to help. They had just met Nick earlier that day and he seemed like such a lovely gentleman. Was she hungry? Could he call someone for her? He could make her a tomato sandwich.
"No, thank you," Olivia said.
There were so few people for her to call, but somehow she managed to reach Nick's brother and his wife, who promised to be on the next flight to Charleston.
"Oh my G.o.d, how terrible," Rick said. "He was such a great guy. I'm just stunned. He wasn't old enough to die! I wonder if I could have his soldiers? I always loved them."
"Sure," Olivia said and thought, How weird!
She called Roni, who burst into tears. Roni said she would review his address book and try to figure out if there were old friends or other relatives who should be notified. She said she'd help with anything else that needed to be done. Anything.
"Don't worry about a single solitary thing. I'll be there tomorrow before noon. I'll help you get everything organized."
And then she called Bob and Maritza.