Queen Bee Goes Home Again Read Online Free Page B

chuckled in spite of myself.
    The only positive thing about visiting the nursing home was, it certainly gave me a proper sense of perspective.
    At least I had my mind, and so did Miss Mamie.
    I could start over, as long as I had my mind.
    Heck, I might even go back and finish college, so I could get a decent job teaching. That sounded like a plan. I loved teaching things, and the vacations would be great. All I had to do was figure out how to pay for my degree.
    â€œC’mon, Miss Lin.” Shalayne beckoned me to the door. “They’s out cold. You go home and come back another time, when they’s better.”
    Better was definitely a relative term, pun intended.
    So I went back out into the searing parking lot, then headed home to face the music, Lord help me.

 
    Four
    Turning in at the crushed-granite drive of my childhood home, I decided to park in the shade of the porte cochere beside the dining room, then hunt for my brother Tommy to help me unload and carry my stuff up the rickety stairway to the tiny apartment that had once housed the full-time gardener.
    But Tommy’s truck wasn’t in the garage beneath the apartment, nor anywhere on the grounds. As usual, he’d managed to be elsewhere when he was needed.
    I was unbuckling my seat belt when I heard the screen door to the dining room skreek open, then slam. I looked that way to see Miss Mamie’s lower legs march out onto the smoke-gray floorboards of the verandah, half a flight above me.
    â€œOh, my Lins-a-pin, you’re finally back home where you belong!” my mother declared, finishing with a self-satisfied, “I knew you’d come. I need you. Things have been so hard since your Aunt Glory flew the coop.”
    Leaving Miss Mamie alone and lonely.
    My fingers locking on the steering wheel, I closed my eyes and bent my forehead to the rim. My life was Cinderella, in reverse. Again .
    Help me do this. Please.
    â€œYoo-hoo, Lin,” Miss Mamie called again, bending down so low to see me that her hem grazed her swollen ankles and sensible, lace-up Clarks. “Are you all right?”
    No. I was a total failure, and ticked, ticked, ticked about the whole thing.
    It didn’t matter that the entire country was in a depression (except those lucky ducks who got unemployment), I took this personally.
    I mean, how else can you take it?
    The papers said things were getting better, but nobody had ever talked to the subcontractors and self-employed. We were still ruined.
    So much for a meek and teachable spirit. But never mind that.
    â€œCome inside,” the Mame instructed, still looking years younger than her nine decades, despite her now snow-white weekly Queen Elizabeth “do” that she’d had since I was a teenager, along with her pleasingly plump physique.
    She’d always told me that being plump was good when you get old, because the fat fills out most of the wrinkles, but now I noted deep brackets flanking her mouth, and a new weariness around her eyes.
    She motioned me to get out. “I’ve made a nice pitcher of iced tea to cool us off.”
    Iced tea sounded good. I hoped the through-the-wall, high-efficiency air conditioners I’d had installed in her kitchen could make a dent in the heat.
    The house had central heat and air, but running them cost almost a thousand dollars a month to achieve barely discernible results, so compartmentalization had definitely been in order. Still, in this heat, the power bills had to be enormous.
    Thank goodness I’d put the AC units in the garage apartment with my first real estate commission. After I’d paid Miss Mamie back for my training course and license fees, of course.
    At least I wouldn’t bake myself alive out there the way I had right after my divorce.
    Determined to start over—again—I finally forced myself to get out and climbed the stairs to the verandah. I caught a sidelong glimpse of the blasted bathtub by the front