Cold Tea On A Hot Day. Curtiss Matlock Ann

such calls, she waved at Parker to answer.

      Then Charlotte Nation drove up in her little red Grand Am. Marilee, sitting at the window, watched Charlotte unfold her long legs out of the car and come swiftly up the walk, her arms loaded with brown bags. Charlotte had brought containers of fried chicken and potato salad from the Quick Shop that had put in a delicatessen.

      Marilee looked at the food and felt sick; it was like funeral food.

      Charlotte reported that June had managed to correct both the Ford and IGA ads in time for Leo’s delivery of the disks to the printer for tomorrow’s edition. And that their new publisher, Tate Holloway, had arrived before schedule.

      “He did?” Vaguely, Marilee tried to be concerned about this.

      “Don’t worry about him,” Charlotte said, giving a dismissive wave. “He took it upon himself to come early, so he had to take what he got. And when Willie Lee comes home, you are going to be worn out, so sleep in tomorrow morning and just come on down when you get ready.”

      When Willie Lee comes home…

      As Charlotte’s Grand Am pulled away from the curb, Marilee, who felt the need to keep vigil out the front window, was dismayed to see her mother’s Cadillac pull in. The car bore a front license plate that said CCoopers, which was advertising of a sort for the discount appliance store owned by her mother’s second husband—Carl Cooper—one of those stores that plastered the television with cluttered and tasteless ads. What this did for Marilee’s mother, however, was give her the fame she craved.

      Watching her mother, a small woman with Lady Clairol blond hair who walked in short, quick strides, Marilee had the thought to run and hide, but like one inextricably caught, she kept sitting there.

      Her mother had come to talk about Marilee helping her get new tires for her Cadillac, because her husband could not be counted on to do this to her satisfaction.

      “Carl won’t take the time,” she said, having launched immediately into her request. “He insists on just goin’ down to the discount tire warehouse and getting the cheapest ones slapped on there…and he doesn’t pay attention if they balance them or not.”

      Marilee jumped in to say, “Mother, I can’t talk to you about this now. Willie Lee is missing.”

      Upon being told of her grandson’s disappearance, her mother became very agitated. Her entire countenance became one of doom, so much so that to look at her made Marilee have trouble breathing.

      Her mother then launched in with comments of a dire sort. “Anything could happen to him out there, all these perverts in the world.” And, “The boy is too friendly, doesn’t know a stranger. I hope he didn’t get in a car with somebody.” Then, “You never should have sent the boy to school anyway. He isn’t capable of regular school,” and, in a whisper that really wasn’t one and that Parker heard very well, “You should marry Parker, and then you could stay home with the boy.”

      Invariably her mother called Willie Lee the boy.

      “He has a name, mother. It is Willie Lee.”

      “Well, I know that,” her mother said, looking confused and hurt and more fearful than ever. Marilee felt like a toad but did not apologize.

      Parker, who could stand no conflict, said, “Norma, would you like more coffee?”

      Marilee turned and went and shut herself in the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror for a long minute, asking all sorts of unintelligible questions of herself and God.

      Finally, her spinning brain settling somewhat, she opened the medicine cabinet and began a thorough search. Surely she had some pills left in here from the time when Stuart had walked out on her. Surely she did. Oh, Lordy, she felt like she was coming apart.

      A knock sounded at the door. Marilee, wondering if word had come of her son, whipped the door open to see standing there her tall and sturdy Aunt Vella.

      “Hello, sugar. I’m sorry, I’m not Willie Lee.” Her eyes, all sympathetic, went beyond Marilee to the sink strewn with the stuff out of the medicine cabinet. “What are you doing?”

      “Looking for any of my old pills. I don’t have any, though. I threw them all out.”

      “Well, yes, you did. I was here that day. Now, I’ve brought you what you need—a big chocolate shake.”

      “Chocolate?”

      “Yes, sugar…it’s in the kitchen.”

      “Bless you.” Marilee threw herself on her aunt, who hugged her tight and then kept an arm around her all the way to the kitchen, where her mother saw and frowned. There had always been animosity between Marilee’s petite mother and her statuesque Aunt Vella, who was her father’s sister.

      Marilee disengaged herself from her aunt and sat down, taking up the large paper cup and spooning the thick shake into her mouth. Her Aunt Vella and Uncle Perry owned Blaine’s Drugstore and Soda Fountain, and Aunt Vella knew exactly how Marilee liked her chocolate shakes, with an extra squirt of chocolate syrup.

      Then Marilee saw that Corrine had her own shake, too. Corrine’s black eyes met Marilee’s for an instant, in which Marilee summoned forth an encouraging smile from the place mothers always keep them. She had forgotten about her niece and wanted to make up for it. The child had enough of being forgotten in her life.

      Corrine quickly looked away, though, as if needing to protect herself.

      “Well, I have to go,” Marilee’s mother said. “I have to get Carl’s supper.”

      “That’s okay…there’s nothing you can do here.” God forbid Carl’s supper be interrupted. Marilee breathed deeply.

      “You call me as soon as you have news…and I can come back down.” She was edging toward the door, and turned and told Parker, “Good seeing you, Parker—you call me if Marilee needs me.”

      Parker nodded politely, wisely not committing himself.

      “Vella, it was good seein’ you.”

      “Norma…”

      Different as night and day, the two women managed to tolerate each other.

      For a second Marilee’s mother hovered uncertainly, and then she patted Marilee’s arm and stroked Corrine’s dark hair away from her forehead, saying, “Honey, can’t you clip your hair out of your eyes?”

      Marilee saw Corrine quietly keep sipping her milk shake, while beneath the table her legs swung about ninety miles an hour.

      “Well, I’ll get with you this weekend about the tires,” Marilee’s mother said before leaving.

      Marilee played the straw around in her milk shake and suffered guilt at the thought of telling her mother to cram the tires up her ass.

      Vella, feeling the need to be polite and thoroughly cover the annoyance she always felt in the other woman’s presence, hopped to her feet and escorted her ex-sister-in-law to the front door. And needing to make certain the woman did indeed get out the door. It was, Vella thought as she saw her ex-sister-in-law get into her car, a great failing on her part that, after all these years and the death of her brother, Norma Cooper should still have the power to irritate the fire out of her.

      When she returned to the kitchen, Parker was massaging Marilee’s shoulders and joking with Corrine, producing a rare smile from the child. Although she had always found Parker Lindsey vaguely wanting, Vella thoroughly admired the way he could lighten a moment when he put his mind to it.

      Marilee said to her, “Don’t you have the Rose Club meeting tonight?”

      “Yes. And I’m going. There’s plenty of time. Perry can get supper over at the café, and I can go straight to the meeting from here.” Perry always took himself off to the café, if he came home and she wasn’t there and no supper was on the table. Then he would come home, turn on the