Chapter Five Rosalynn #2
“Okay, I’ll speak to her.” Rosalynn watched Dusty run zoomies around the yard, leaping over planked walkways like he was tackling an agility course.
“You could have given me a little more time to answer your call or been more specific in your texts. Showing up out of the blue is overkill, even for you.”
Lillian shrugged. “My girls needed me. So of course I came.”
No need to argue when it wouldn’t change a thing. Her mother was already here. “We love you too. Thank you for worrying. You have enough on your plate with caretaker duties. How’s he doing?”
Her mom’s fists clenched around the armrests, her chewed fingernails the only outward sign of her stress. “The doctors give him anywhere from four to six weeks. We’re just trying to keep him off the ventilator for as long as possible.”
“Oh, Mom . . .” She bit her lip to hold back the tears and rested a hand over her mother’s, her mom’s wedding band cold to the touch.
“You shouldn’t be wasting time here. I have things under control, truly.
Workers will be arriving any minute to board up the house.
Please, go home. Elsie and I will be up for a visit at the end of the month like we planned. ”
To say their goodbyes. Her throat went tight at the impending loss of such a loved member of their family.
Lillian slid her fingers free. “He and I agreed that I should come speak with you in person about Elsie. Let’s get this matter settled so we can go.”
“We? We can go where?” Rosalynn struggled to follow her mom’s train of thought. “What are you talking about?”
“I won’t be any good to anyone if I’m worried about you back here in the middle of a hurricane.”
Rosalynn sagged back. Her mother had a tendency to use those legal powers outside of the courtroom when the mood suited her.
“Mom, I’m not interested in debating with you.
I’m not reckless. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m forty-nine years old.
If the weather is upgraded from a tropical storm to a hurricane, even a Category One, Elsie and I will evacuate. ”
“Or you could just leave now, before things reach the crisis level. Remember when you got trapped in the bumper-to-bumper traffic when evacuating a couple of years ago? If you’d listened to me then, you and Seth wouldn’t have been stuck in that evacuation shelter.”
Their journey had become so bogged down by the bottlenecked interstate that they’d been forced to stop.
They’d spent the night in a school gymnasium since there hadn’t been any hotels left.
She could still smell the mildew and feel the frustration over the lack of adequate accommodations, made all the worse by having to debate time and time again with the shelter manager that she had a legal right to keep Dusty with her.
Having to transfer from her wheelchair to a Red Cross–issued cot wasn’t exactly easy or comfortable.
Her mom wasn’t wrong that leaving now could prevent a wealth of frustration. “Okay, I’ll go. We can drop you off at the airport on our way out.”
“We’re going together. I wasn’t able to get a rental car or a flight back.”
A sense of inevitability crept over her. Regardless of the forecast, her mother wouldn’t let up until they left town. Together. And to be fair, she didn’t want to keep her mother away from home longer than necessary. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re manipulative?”
“I’m determined.”
“Understatement,” Rosalynn teased gently.
Her only hope lay in that storm taking a complete turn away. Within the next couple of hours. All flights being restored ASAP. With a seat available for her mother.
Right.
She had a better chance at hitting the jackpot in the Powerball lottery. Which would never happen since even the idea of buying a ticket made her think of Seth. “Let’s head inside and tackle the hurricane prep. Just in case.”
Lillian shoved to her feet. “Just in case. When do your workmen arrive to board up?”
“They promised to be here by sundown and stay until they’re finished,” she said, waving the card. Thank you, Therese. “So let’s focus on the inside and see what’s going on with my wayward daughter.”
She called Dusty to join them. The Labrador trotted alongside her, his tongue lolling as she entered the mudroom. At least the arts center where she worked had already announced weather closure for a week.
Rosalynn slung her bag to hook on to one of the pegs on a lengthy oar. Elsie’s gym shoes rested on the dryer. A braided fleece rope hung from the dryer handle for Dusty to tug. Lillian tapped the twisted fabric on her way past.
Together, they moved through the laundry room and into the kitchen with an open-concept view.
Decorating over time, she’d tried not to be a cliché with the beach decor.
She loved the soothing vibe, with rustic white walls, blue furniture, and accents in various shades.
Paintings of Lowcountry landscapes were all by local artists only, with the exception of a sandcastle watercolor from Elsie in the second grade—framed and double matted, displayed in a place of honor over the fireplace.
She tried to envision her home goods in a new house and came up short. Could that be a part of Elsie’s unrest?
As if to mock her, Rosalynn’s gaze landed on a suitcase—Elsie’s—by the front door.
To evacuate or move out? A pang twinged in her gut. She’d been looking forward to having Elsie all to herself this year. “Mom, why don’t you take a moment to freshen up from your trip before we set to work. I want to speak with Elsie on my own first.”
While she appreciated that her mom’s love for Elsie went so deep that she would drop everything to help, Rosalynn had also experienced how Lillian’s love could become suffocating. Her need for control too often stifled independence.
And Elsie needed to own up to her choices rather than abdicate joining a tough conversation.