Page 10 of That Last Carolina Summer

Celeste raised her eyebrows to allow me to continue or not.

“Right after college my sister received several job offers from local stations. She got a lot of fan mail, so she must have been good.”

I felt the older woman watching me, but I didn’t turn. Nor did I tell her that our mother thought that Addie looked like she should be on television and I didn’t. I’d never stopped to think that she might be wrong.

“I’m trying to think if I’ve ever seen her,” she said. “What’s her name?”

“ Adeline Manigault. She only worked as a meteorologist for a year and then decided to stay home to raise her baby as a single mom. Addie and Ophelia still live with my mother.”

“I see,” Celeste said. “And you became a science teacher and moved across the country instead?”

“I did.”

She continued to walk without speaking as if waiting for me to add something.

“My aunt Sassy—my father’s sister, who lived with us since I was a baby—was fascinated by the natural world and got me interested in birds. It’s amazing how much bird behavior mimics that of humans. They’ve taught me a lot. I’ve just started dabbling with writing a blog on birding.”

“Ah,” she said. “So you’re a twitcher.”

I laughed. “Guilty. Although most people aren’t familiar with the word UK birders used to describe themselves except for fellow twitchers.”

“True, and proud of it. I have to be a close observer of birds so I can paint them.”

We had already gone around the block and were now back on Pitt Street. “We should go,” I said. “My sister took my mother to the grocery store and might need my help putting the groceries away.”

“Of course.” Looking at Ophelia, she said, “Thank you for doing such a good job walking Annie. I can see that she loved it. I hope we can do it again soon.”

Ophelia reluctantly gave back the leash then bent down to hug the little dog. “Can we, Aunt Phoebe?”

“I, uh...”

“I don’t have a cell phone,” Celeste said, “but if you tell me your number I can remember it, and the next time I’m running errands or can’t walk Annie, I can give you a call.

I think Annie would appreciate a little more energy than I can give her when it’s this hot out.

She loves to play fetch. Maybe sometime we can take her to Alhambra Park. ”

“That sounds fun.” I gave her my number and said, “I’m so sorry—my memory is apparently not anywhere near as good as yours. What did you say your last name was?”

“Fitch. Celeste Fitch.” She said it with a pointed emphasis on the last name as if I should recognize it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Celeste. I hope to see you again soon.”

I watched her walk away, wondering what it was about the older woman that seemed so familiar.

“Come on,” I said to Ophelia as I began walking in the opposite direction. The jangling of the dog’s collar tags ceased, and I wondered if they’d stopped and were looking at us. I didn’t turn around to see.

As we headed back toward home, Ophelia said, “I wish I had a dog.”

I wasn’t going to get involved in this conversation knowing what my mother would say. Yet I couldn’t forget that faded spot on the stairwell that had been allowed to stay as a memorial to my childhood dog.

We were almost home when I remembered the business card in my pocket and pulled it out to call the number so I could at least tell Addie I’d made the appointment. I’d started dialing the number for the neurology practice when I read again the name of the doctor. L. M. Fitch, MD.

“Didn’t Miss Celeste say her last name was Fitch?” I asked Ophelia.

My niece nodded emphatically. “There was a boy at my summer camp last year whose last name was Fitch, but he doesn’t live here all the time.”

“Do you know if they’re related?”

Ophelia shrugged. It wasn’t that it mattered. I was just searching for a reason why Celeste seemed to expect me to recognize her last name.

When the receptionist answered, I made the appointment for my mother even though I was unable to answer questions about insurance or other medical information. I’d have to make sure I got everything I needed from Addie beforehand.

I had just finished typing the appointment into my phone calendar when we reached our house. My mother’s car sat in the driveway, the trunk’s lid open to reveal grocery bags. The spoiled food was gone, presumably disposed of by Addie.

“Mother!”

Addie stood inside the open front door. When she spotted me, she ran down the steps, panic on her face. “Have you seen Mother? She was supposed to be helping me bring in the groceries, but when I turned around she was gone.”

Being a teacher had taught me how to remain calm and clearheaded in emergencies. “Go walk down the street and look in every yard. I’ll go search behind our house.” At Addie’s uncertain expression, I said, “Go,” then gently pushed on her back.

I turned to Ophelia and said, “Go inside and check in every room—even closets and bathrooms, all right? Shout if you find her.” She nodded then ran inside, taking the porch steps two at a time.

I walked quickly around the house, passing my mother’s hundred-and-fifty-year-old prized camellia bushes at the side of the screened porch.

I peered past the screens, but the porch was empty, as was the chair set in the shade of a cedar tree that had been planted before my mother was born.

I was almost at the base of the long dock when I spotted her standing near the end, staring out over the marsh at high tide.

My mother had never liked the water. She said the salt ruined her hair and made her skin itch.

We could never coerce her into a boat of any kind, and I doubted she’d owned a bathing suit since her beauty pageant days.

I was certain that she didn’t want to get in the water, but I approached her carefully, making enough noise so that I wouldn’t startle her.

She wore a pale blue silk shirtdress with empty belt loops and her bedroom slippers.

Assuming she hadn’t gone inside to change, this meant she would have worn this ensemble to the grocery store.

I stopped behind her. “Mother? It’s me. Phoebe. Are you okay?”

She didn’t turn. “This is my favorite view, I think. It’s where your father proposed.”

I felt relief at the normalcy of her voice, and at the accuracy of her memory. Maybe things weren’t as bad as Addie thought. “It is beautiful,” I said. “Aunt Sassy and I used to stand here with our binoculars to watch the migrating birds in the spring and fall.”

She was smiling when she turned to look at me, and she was the good mother, which is what I called her when things were going the way she wanted them and I hadn’t disappointed her.

The sound of trickling liquid brought our attention to the wood planks of the dock between her feet where a growing puddle was slowly forming. My mother watched the expanding dark spot with a confused expression. When she glanced back at me, her face tightened.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday, remember? I ordered pizza last night, and we had it for dinner.”

She pressed her lips together, highlighting the fine lines that sprouted around her mouth. “You are a liar. I have never eaten pizza in my life.”

I turned to see if Addie had discovered us yet, unsure as to what I was supposed to do. I was all alone with my mother who’d just peed on the dock and couldn’t remember yesterday.

“We had pizza yesterday,” I said again, as if repeating it would make her remember. “You ate three slices and wanted a fourth, but there wasn’t enough to go around. You got some sauce on your nightgown, and I had to help you change into a clean one before you went to bed.”

“Liar,” she hissed. “I did no such thing.”

“Fine,” I said, my voice shaking. I felt like Alice in Wonderland where everything in my world had suddenly turned upside down. “Let’s go inside where it’s cooler, all right?”

She looked at me again as if she didn’t know who I was, then brushed past me and marched to the end of the dock where it met the backyard. She paused as if unsure of which direction to go, so I gently touched her shoulder to show her.

With an uncharacteristic grunt, she pushed away my hand and headed toward the house.

As we neared the screened porch, my mother stopped, and I spotted Addie trying hard to blend into the glossy camellia bushes.

I paused to speak to my sister. “She’s wet herself.

I’ll finish bringing in the groceries if you’ll go take her inside to change. ”

I didn’t know a slap was coming until I felt the sharp sting of my mother’s ring on the side of my face. “You’re a liar!”

I pressed my hand against my cheek, my eyes smarting from the blow and from a deeper pain.

Addie avoided looking at me as she wrapped her arm around our mother’s shoulders and began leading her toward the front steps.

I leaned against the side of the house and sucked in the hot, humid air, holding my breath until I saw spots before my eyes.

It was something I’d done as a child to hide from circumstances I didn’t like.

Two months, two months, two months . But I knew I was ignoring the permanence of what was happening and that pretending everything was fine wasn’t going to make the problem go away.