Chapter Five Rosalynn
Chapter Five
Rosalynn
Apparently, following her mom’s superstitions had paid off for once. Rosalynn mentally thanked all her lucky horseshoes and those bowls of black-eyed peas as Therese dragged the trash can away from the wooden ramp.
Just as Rosalynn had been about to surrender and text Seth for help, Therese had come running outside, shouting for her to wait. Whatever the reason, the Realtor had relieved Rosalynn’s stress level on one front at least.
The rumble of the rolling bin echoed the distant thunder. Wind gusted a plastic bag across the parking lot, inching her stress level back up a notch.
“Thank you, Therese,” Rosalynn said as she propelled the chair forward. Dusty’s nails tapped along the planks as he tucked into a perfect heel position alongside. “You came out at just the right moment. Or did you see me through the window?”
“Lucky coincidence.” The real estate agent reached into the pocket of her linen shift, pulled out a business card, and passed it over.
“I thought you might need this. It’s a company that will board up your house if the storm strengthens.
They’re reasonably priced and easy to work with.
They’re totally trustworthy. I use them for the rental properties we manage. ”
Rosalynn refused to feel embarrassed over her ex-husband’s shoddy behavior. Dusty rested his head on her knee in comfort, a cue he also used to relieve neuropathy pain. “Thanks, that’s a great help.”
“All a part of the job. Whatever I can do to make this house sale easier.” Therese paused, stuffing her hands into her pockets, anchoring the dress from sweeping up at the hem. “I hope I’m not out of line in saying that you deserve better.”
“Not out of line at all. I’m aware,” she responded with a wry smile. “Thanks again. Stay safe in this weather.”
She hoped the Realtor didn’t take offense, but aside from the impending confrontation with her mother, Rosalynn couldn’t get to the minivan fast enough, away from Seth inside gathering his paperwork and finishing his grainy tea.
Hopefully he would procrastinate long enough for her to make her escape.
Of course she understood she wouldn’t have Elsie without Seth—a platitude well-meaning people mentioned as if that somehow erased the pain of divorcing a man with a gambling addiction. Nothing could eradicate the guilt over having given her child such a sad excuse for a father.
How naive to have assumed that all men would be as honorable as her own dad.
Memories of him flooded her as she activated the key fob, opening the side door and ramp on her minivan.
The sound of him singing classic Carolina beach tunes teased.
Each droplet carried by the breeze reminded her of him taking her kayaking after her accident.
Her mother had nearly blown a gasket when she caught them returning to shore.
Once inside the specially modified van, Rosalynn tethered Dusty’s seat belt harness before rewarding him with a piece of dog kibble.
He gently took the pellet of food from her palm.
She saved the high-value treats—like cheese or mini dog bones—for more challenging tasks so as not to risk him overeating.
She smiled at the notion of Dusty barreling aside a slew of rolling trash cans for a chunk of cheddar.
She pushed the controls to rotate the driver’s seat into position for her to transfer from her chair.
Settled behind the steering wheel, engine purring, she checked her dog with the rearview mirror.
“Hey, Dusty, I think I deserve a high-value treat for making it through this day, don’t you? Maybe an ice cream sundae with Elsie.”
Speaking of family . . . She sighed. She was used to her mother’s bulldozer tactics, but flying into town during a storm seemed a little over the top.
Rosalynn tapped the Bluetooth button on her steering wheel as she pulled out of the parking lot. The charm hanging from her rearview mirror—a ballerina in a wheelchair—spun. “Siri, call Mom.”
The ringtone filled the vehicle. Already, traffic was picking up, with most heading out of town. Her lane stayed sparse. Alarmingly so. Had the forecast worsened? She sped up. The need to check on her daughter increased along with the van’s RPMs.
Her call shifted to voicemail and she disconnected. No need to leave yet another message for her mother. According to the original text, Lillian’s plane should have landed. Unless her flight had been diverted for weather?
A quick call later, she’d secured the workers to board up her house later in the day, just to be safe.
Half the businesses lining the street had already boarded up their windows.
Some sported sandbags as a barrier against potential storm surge.
Beachy storefronts gave way to clapboard and stucco houses in her out-of-the-way coastal community, barrier islands dotting the horizon.
The carpet of reeds bowed in the wind. A pair of wading herons took flight, with a slower egret trailing behind.
Her property definitely followed the rule of “smallest house in a great neighborhood.” The one-story wooden bungalow had been a fixer-upper, but with the open-concept floor plan, the sight lines had been stunning.
And in gutting the rest, she’d been able to design a kitchen, a bathroom, and doorways to spec, from the doorway width to countertop height to adaptive equipment.
Beyond that, she’d made memories here bringing up her child. She, Seth, and Elsie had placed handprints in the concrete walkway. She and her daughter had fished off the dock, built sandcastles on the shore, and kayaked in the quiet cove.
Quite simply, this was home.
A picket fence surrounded the entire property so Dusty had room to stretch his legs. Planked walkways spidered outward, giving her easy access to the firepit and farther down to the marshy beach. Her new home would also meet her needs, but with less character.
Her gaze gravitated to Seth’s janky For Sale sign flapping in the breeze. Pathetic. Just like him.
She’d been brought up to believe character trumped all else, a code taught to her by none other than her mother, who was currently hefting her porch furniture into the garage.
Sheets of plywood lay in the yard. Rosalynn’s mouth twitched with a grin at the thought of Elsie hauling those boards around at her grandmother’s behest.
Heaven help anyone who said no to Lillian.
Rosalynn shifted her van into park in the driveway. She should have known her mother would never let something like a tropical storm keep her away. But it begged the question . . . Why now of all times?
Lillian dropped a rocking chair and shaded her eyes before waving.
She looked none the worse for wear after her flight in her wrinkle-free business-casual slacks and blouse, her dark hair clipped back in a low ponytail.
Rosalynn resisted the urge to smooth a hand over her roots, two months past due for a touch-up.
She wagered a mental bet with herself on how long it would take her mom to comment.
Like they didn’t have bigger issues bearing down on her beach community.
“Mother,” Rosalynn called out the open window. “What in the world brought you here? I don’t want to sound rude, and I love you dearly, but it’s mannerly to give a little notice before showing up.”
“I tried to call,” her mother said as she dragged the rocker into the garage before walking back to the porch. Lillian never stuck to one task at a time. The woman deserved a multitasker of the year award. Every year.
“Fair point,” Rosalynn conceded, although her mother probably couldn’t hear as she wrestled with a patio umbrella.
Where was Elsie hiding?
Rosalynn used the quiet minutes unbuckling her dog and transferring from the van to calm herself.
She couldn’t afford to let her anger at Seth bleed over into the conversation with her mother.
First and foremost, she needed to get to the bottom of whatever had prompted Elsie to reach out—bypassing her own mother and father.
Possibly because Elsie knew if she told her father, Seth would have come straight to Rosalynn.
Whatever marital troubles she and Seth may have had, they’d been in agreement that parents needed to present a unified front.
Although that would make the subject of a drained college account tricky to navigate, an infuriating move she hadn’t even told her mother about. Rosalynn didn’t want to consider the notion that he may have used the money to pay off a bookie out to hurt him.
Or his family.
On the paved driveway, Rosalynn thumbed the key fob to retract the ramp and close the sliding side door. She unclipped Dusty’s leash, releasing him to shake off, stretch his legs, and water a bush if needed.
“Free time, Dusty. Free time,” Rosalynn said before turning toward her mother and extending her arms. “Hi, Mom.”
Lillian wrapped her in a hug bearing the familiar scent of jasmine tinged with a hint of perspiration. “Hello, my sweet girl. Let’s tuck into the garage, where we can hear each other better.”
Grains of sand carried on the wind, along with the sounds of neighbors hammering boards in place.
“That bad, huh?” She wheeled toward the shady cavern and set the brakes beside the rockers.
“Well, it’s not good.” Her mom dropped into the chair with an exhausted sigh. “Elsie called me this morning. She said she wants to emancipate.”
Every cell in Rosalynn’s body went into full panic mode.
“Emancipate?” The word felt foreign on her tongue and in her stunned brain.
Her mother must have misunderstood or overreacted.
“Thank you for your concern and caring, but I suspect you’ve been roped in by a case of teenage dramatics.
I seriously doubt Elsie wants to have herself legally declared an adult with all the responsibilities that entails. ”
“The lawyer part of me says otherwise.” Lillian plucked a dog hair off the armrest.