Sunday, August 14, 2016

no rest


It was done. Catherine lay down on her bed fully dressed. It was done. She was done. She wished she could retreat from the hotel. From the staff and her brother and the children and just be alone. She and Mac had planned to move into their dream house this summer.  The walled garden was going to wow the Garden Club, and maybe get her on the tour. Now, she didn’t know. Maybe she should just sell it and leave the island. Go where though? Go home. But she had no home. This suite in this hotel was as close as it came. And it didn’t feel like home without him. She lay still and listened to the sound of the waves. That nail gun. Oh my god.
    There was a tap on the door. No getting away.
    “I’m here.”
    Kate opened the door a crack. Catherine sat up.
    “I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?”
    “No, just wishing I could.”
    “It was a lovely party. Thank you.”
    “Even though someone there probably killed your father.”
    “What a thought. Anyway, I don’t want to bother you, but I wanted to tell you, I thought you should know, my mother showed up at the funeral. We didn’t know she was coming, Bill and I. But anyway, we’re going out to dinner with her now. I just—didn’t want to be doing something behind your back.”
    “Thank you, said Catherine. “Well, she was married to him for twenty years or something. I can understand it.”
     “I’ll leave you alone. I just felt like you should know. Can I get you anything?”
     “No. I just want to be alone.”
    “I hope you sleep,” said Kate.

Sunday, August 7, 2016

moped mama


       “Has Bobby got here yet?”
      “No, haven’t seen him since he left with my mother,” said Kate.
      “I should have brought my own car instead of coming with you. It’s still at the cemetery. I’m ready to go home and put my feet up. I suppose I could walk.”
    “I’ll take you on the moped,” offered Bill.
    “I’m wearing a skirt,” Merideth pointed out.
    “You can sit sidesaddle. Just keep your feet out of the spokes. It isn’t far.”
     “True. Do you think?”
    “Sure,” said Bill. “Come on. I’ll take you now.”
     “Drive slowly!” She awkwardly positioned herself behind him as he braced the machine with his feet. She supposed she had to hold onto him. She put one arm around his waist. The other hand held her hat on.
     “Ready? Hang on. Keep your feet out. Here we go!”
     Oh, Lord. In her eighties and riding pillion on a motorcycle. She hoped no one would see her. But of course it would be all over the island by tomorrow.