Part 11 (1/2)
”And Alice?”
”Believe it or not, she feels sorry for Sara.”
”Oh my! That's a first.”
”Sort of. I mean, she says Dad's death is complicated, which it is, and that everyone needs to be in touch with their true feelings to get the right kind of closure and move on in a healthy way.”
”Oh, I see.”
”Look, whatever. It's how Alice makes her living. She means well.”
”I know.”
”I mean, Dad was who he was. I always wondered how you dealt with his insanity. Too much BS for me.”
”Russ? You're going to see that in a long marriage, if you're lucky enough to have one, you have some good years and some not-so-good years. If you really love your family, you try to endure the difficult times, because it's important to hold families together. Your father did the best he could. He was under tremendous stress . . .”
”Yeah, I guess so. But he brought it all on himself, didn't he? He sure was one crazy sumb.i.t.c.h.”
”Is that the Southern term of endearment for son of a b.i.t.c.h?”
”Yeah. It might be.”
”Well, son, try to remember the many good things your father did for us. It's not a black-and-white world. But don't focus on the dark stuff. It wasn't all his fault, you know. The housing market went south and banks made a lot of mortgages they shouldn't have and believe me, no one knew the economy would go to h.e.l.l in such a blaze of glory.”
”Blaze of shame is more like it. I'm so glad I teach high school and that I didn't get an MBA. You have to wonder how those guys on Wall Street live with themselves, right? No conscience.”
”That slices it about as thin as you can.”
”So, you'll come tomorrow night?”
”Absolutely! What can I bring?”
”Just bring yourself.”
During the time these phone calls came and went, I had traveled the distance between the Porgy House and Aunt Daisy's and pulled up into her driveway. I hurried up her steps and right into the house through the unlocked door. Aunt Daisy was in her home office, going over a bank statement.
”Morning! Your door was unlocked!”
”Oh pis.h.!.+ Ella went out for the paper and must've forgotten to lock it. She's as senile as the day is long. I thought you'd never get here!” Aunt Daisy said, as though I had just been to Tibet and back. ”Are you hungry?”
”No, I ate, thanks. Sorry I took so long. My phone didn't stop ringing.”
”Who called?”
”The world.”
”Uh-huh.”
”Well, my world is small but chatty.”
”Humph. I see. Well, here's a check for the plumber. And the keys. I really appreciate you doing this. Just get a bill from him so I can enter it in my books. I always worry about being audited. Besides, this is not one of my houses. I just manage it.”
”No problem. Then what? You bill the owner?”
”Are you kidding me? I deduct it straight from their share of the rent! If I wait around to get paid from all these people with their second and third and fourth houses, spending their winters jetting down to Palm Beach and out to Aspen or Arizona and wherever the h.e.l.l they go to give their happy place a little scratch, you'd be sending my deposit slips to the Pearly Gates!” Her arms were whirling around while she spoke.
”You're too funny!”
”Listen to me.” She wagged her finger at me. ”I'm gonna tell you something and don't forget it. Ever!”
”Okay?”
”The poor people don't pay their bills because they don't have the money. But the rich people don't pay their bills because they don't want to!”
”You might be right. But wouldn't you consider yourself to be rich, too?”
She harrumphed again. ”I'm nice and comfortable and that's all. You mark my words! Awful! Rich people are awful!”
Evidently my sweet old Aunt Daisy, who was as rich as cream, had rolled out of her bed on the wrong side.
”Well, come on now, not all of them. I think you're pretty nice! Anyway, give me the address of the house and the plumber's number in case he doesn't show and I'll go take care of this.”
Aunt Daisy looked at me and sighed, smiling at last.
”It's such a comfort to have you here, Cate. You just don't know.”
I knew I was witnessing a master manipulator at work but I didn't mind it at all. Wasn't manipulation how a lot of things got done in this world? Besides, maybe I'd learn a thing or two. I blew her a kiss and left.
The Jolly Buddha was on East Arctic Avenue right where Aunt Daisy said it would be. I knew this place from my childhood. It was a small house up on stilts with red doors, not to be confused with Elizabeth Arden. Cla.s.sic Folly Beach-two-million-dollar rustic, charming, inviting, sort of a house you'd never find in Palm Beach. But Palm Beach attracted a different kind of resident, who in all likelihood would not be found on Folly anyway unless they were s.h.i.+pwrecked.
The plumber was nowhere in sight. Big surprise. This was like deja vu all over again, like Yogi Berra says. I guess there was no escaping this part of life when there was property to manage. But dealing with workmen was in the sweet spot of my limited skill set. I pulled out my cell and tapped in his number. He answered right away.
”Hull-low,” came the deep voice.
”Hi! This is Cate Cooper calling. Daisy McInerny's niece? Is this Lou?”
”You got him.” Brooklyn. I would've bet my life on it. ”I'm on the way now. Had a backed-up sump pump that wouldn't cooperate this morning.”
”No problem. About how long will you be?” I used my mother voice, the one that's stern but not rude.
”Fifteen? Twenty minutes? Depends on traffic. I'm downtown. Seems like I spend half my life fixing sump pumps downtown.”
The water table in Charleston was so low that after a big rainfall you could almost make yourself believe you were in Venice.
”Yeah, I'll bet. Well, don't worry. I'll just wait.”
We hung up and I thought, you know what Lou the Plumber? You've got a phone, use it. Tell me you're running late. That's all. Simple courtesy. But nooooo. Make me chase you, right?
Tradesmen were notorious for making you wait because they were out saving your world and their time was more important than yours. Unfortunately, at this particular moment, his time was worth more than mine by around a hundred dollars an hour. So I checked out the bathrooms and sure enough, the water in one of the toilets was right up to the edge. I wasn't touching it. Nasty. Then I decided that whatever plumbers charged, they earned it.