“No, they don’t.” Again, I think of Trent. Again, I feel the tug-of-war between my own feelings and the hopes and plans my family has always held for me. The plans I always thought I held for myself.
“Arney and I kept in touch over the years,” May continues, and I try to slip into her story again, to leave behind the worry over how the rest of this day will go. “She was a very inspiring woman. She and her husband started their own construction company when they came home. She worked right alongside him, right alongside the men, and she held her own. I imagine those homes were as solidly built as can be. They’ll outlast us all.”
“No doubt they will.”
May turns to me with purpose, stretches intimately close as if she plans to impart a secret. “A woman’s past need not predict her future. She can dance to new music if she chooses. Her own music. To hear the tune, she must only stop talking. To herself, I mean. We’re always trying to persuade ourselves of things.”
I’m struck by the profoundness of what she’s saying. Can she sense that, since visiting the cottage on the river, since learning about my grandmother, I’ve questioned everything about my life?
I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I want to find my own music. May makes me believe it is possible. Which brings me to my real purpose for visiting her today. “I’m wondering if you’ll come somewhere with me this afternoon,” I say finally.
“Might I inquire where?” But she’s already pressing out of her chair, her hands gripping the armrests.
“Are you willing to go if I don’t tell you ahead of time?”
“Is it outside these dastardly drab walls?”
“Yes.”
She’s surprisingly spry getting to her feet. “Then I suppose I don’t care where we’re going. I am all yours. As long as you’re not bringing me to some political event, that is. I despise politics.”
I laugh. “It’s not a political event.”
“Excellent.” We start down the hall together, May pushing her walker with surprising speed. I half expect her to throw it aside and start sprinting toward the door.
“Trent’s waiting outside to drive us.”
“The handsome one with the blue eyes?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Oh, now I really am looking forward to this.” She frowns down at her pajama-like cotton shirt and pants. “I’m not dressed very nicely. Perhaps I should change?”
“I think you’ll be fine in that.”
She doesn’t protest when we reach her room. In fact, she stops only long enough to grab her purse.
Trent rises from his chair when we reach the front entrance. He smiles and gives me a thumbs-up behind May’s back as she informs the attendant that we’ll be taking her out for the afternoon. She turns the walker over to me and opts for Trent’s arm as we pass through the door. I’m left to fold the apparatus and put it in the trunk while Trent gets May settled. Fortunately, I’ve had some experience with this sort of thing.
May tells Trent her story while we drive—all of it, not just the parts she shared with us after our first foray through the workshop behind Trent’s house on Edisto. Trent catches my gaze in the rearview mirror repeatedly, shakes his head with a sad sort of awe. It’s hard to believe that, not so many years ago, orphaned children were little more than chattel.
May is so lost in the tale or so smitten with Trent that she doesn’t notice where we’re going. It’s not until we’re drawing closer to Augusta that she bends toward the window and sighs. “You’re taking me home. You should’ve told me. I would have worn my sneakers.”
Trent glances at May’s flat slipper shoes. “It’ll be all right. Your neighbor mowed the grass.”
“Hootsie did raise the sweetest children. Hard to believe. She was such a rotter herself. I tangled with her more than I ever did my sisters.”
Trent grins. “After getting to know her a little, I don’t find that hard to believe.” He’s spoken with Hootsie about today’s trip. She and Bart have moved heaven and earth to help make it possible.
May notices the difference when we drive past Hootsie’s house on the farm lane and the road is cleared all the way through the woods to the cottage. We park on new gravel near the gate.
“Who did all of this?” May looks around at the freshly mown grass, the newly trimmed gardens, the porch with chairs waiting behind the screen.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make the trek down here,” I tell her. “This seemed like the best way. I hope you don’t mind.”
She only wipes her eyes, her lips pressing together hard, trembling.
“I thought you might want to visit more often, after this. My grandmother had a standing appointment with the cab company. They know the way here.”
“I’m not sure if they’ll…let me.” A whisper is all she can manage. “The nursing home. I don’t want them calling my grandchildren and bothering them either.”
“I’ve been talking about that with a friend, a man who runs a group that advocates for senior citizens. I think we can get some help for you with some of those issues. You’re not a prisoner at the care facility, May. They’re just trying to make sure you’re safe.” I’ll let that sink in for now. Later we can talk more about the suggestions from Andrew Moore, including his idea that May might gain a sense of purpose by doing some volunteer work for the PAC. Andrew is an amazing person, filled with ideas. I think May would like him.
Right now, she is too mesmerized by the scenery to talk about anything else. She leans close to the front window, tears spilling forth. “Oh…oh, I’m home. I never thought I’d see it again.”
“Hootsie and her granddaughter have been keeping it clean for you.”
“But…I haven’t been able to pay her…since…” Tears interrupt the words. “Since they took me away.”
“She says she doesn’t mind.” I reach for my door as Trent walks around the car. “She really does love you, you know.”
“She didn’t say that?”
“Well, no, but it’s obvious.”
May puffs out a skeptical breath, and once again I see the precociousness of a river gypsy. “You had me worried that Hootsie might be losing her marbles.” She smirks at me, allowing Trent to help her from the car. “Hootsie and I have always kept one another sharp. It’d be a shame to ruin it by going sentimental now.”
I look through the trees toward the ruins of the plantation house as I stand up and stretch. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the complexities of the relationships between these two women over the years. “You can tell that to Hootsie in person if you want. She’ll be over later. I asked her to give us some time to ourselves first.”
May casts a suspicious look my way as she moves through the gate, her hand crooked in Trent’s elbow. “What was it that you were planning to do here? I’ve told you everything this time. There is no more to the story.”
In the distance, I can already hear another car grinding along the farm lane. May hasn’t noticed it yet, which is probably for the best. I’d intended to get her to the cottage and settle her there first. But the timing may not work out as I’d planned. Leave it to my mother to show up early, even though she has no idea where she’s going or what she’s arriving for.
“I’ve asked my parents to come.” I can’t think of a way to make them believe all of this that would be better than just showing them. Otherwise, I’m afraid they might think I’ve completely lost my mind.
“The senator?” May’s face widens with horror, and she immediately starts patting her hair.
Trent tries to move May through the gate, but she catches the post and holds on like a grade-school kid being hauled to the doctor for a shot.
“Good heavens!” she says. “I asked you if I needed to change clothes. I can’t meet them like this.”