Home In Carolina. Sherryl Woods

night was out.

      “I’ll bring the food,” Dana Sue said. “I’ll make a fresh batch of guacamole and steal some appetizers from the freezer here.”

      “Can’t have margaritas without that killer guacamole,” Helen agreed.

      After she’d disconnected the call, she dialed Maddie and repeated the invitation. When Maddie hesitated, Helen jumped in. “Dana Sue’s coming. The subject of Ty and Annie is off limits. We’re only going to talk about me.”

      Like Dana Sue, Maddie laughed. “Not much new about that. Okay. I’m not convinced you can keep us from veering off onto the subject of our children, but I don’t want to miss out on watching you try. Should I tell Jeanette?”

      “Absolutely,” Helen said. Jeanette, who was in charge of the day spa services at their business, had become an honorary Sweet Magnolia. Though she’d only been around for a few years now, she was definitely one of their own. “If you’ll invite her and maybe pick up some chips and cut veggies for Dana Sue’s guacamole, that’ll give me time to buy the biggest bottle of tequila at the liquor store and to spend time with my daughter before she goes to bed.”

      “By the way, what are we celebrating?” Maddie asked.

      “I took Henry Porter to the cleaners in court today, pun intended.” Porter ran a chain of dry cleaners in the region. He’d hoped to leave his wife of thirty years with next to nothing, even though she’d worked right alongside him building that chain from one little neighborhood shop to the dozen outlets they had now. Helen had seen it differently, as had the judge, especially after the testimony of the Porter children about how involved their mother had been in the business.

      “Good for you,” Maddie said. “I hate men who minimize their wives’ contributions to their success.”

      Maddie knew more than some about that, since she’d had just such a husband before divorcing physician Bill Townsend and winding up with the high school baseball coach, Cal Maddox, who was ten years younger. In Helen’s opinion, that particular revenge had been especially sweet.

      “Well, we can toast to all the women who’ve been mistreated like that and emerged victorious,” Helen said.

      “Sounds like fun to me,” Maddie said, then hesitated. “Helen, how did Dana Sue sound really? Is she very upset that Ty’s back? I know it’s awkward, and I feel awful for Annie, but I’m so happy to have him and Trevor here for a while.”

      “I know you are, and I don’t think Dana Sue begrudges you this time with them. It’s just hard for her to see Annie so upset.”

      Maddie sighed. “You should probably know that Annie didn’t show up for work today.”

      “So I heard,” Helen admitted.

      “Elliott said she’d just found out about Ty,” Maddie continued, her tone sympathetic. “She read it in the paper, of all things. I probably should have told her myself, but I thought Dana Sue would. This is so damn complicated. I have no idea what my son was thinking.”

      “I doubt thinking was involved in this mess,” Helen said dryly. “If you want my advice, you need to enjoy having Ty around and stay out of his relationship with Annie. They’re adults now. And in case you’re wondering, I said pretty much the same thing to Dana Sue.”

      “It’s just that I was so sure…” Maddie’s voice trailed off.

      “They were so sweet together, I think we all thought they’d be together forever,” Helen admitted. “But it was never up to us.”

      “I know. See you tonight.”

      Helen hung up, relieved that her desire to celebrate her courtroom victory might give Maddie and Dana Sue the chance they needed to meet on neutral turf. For the first time in several years—since Sarah Beth’s birth, in fact—she felt like her old self again…in control and on top.

      Helen’s feeling of euphoria lasted for just under two hours. She’d barely walked in the door and set down the tequila and other supplies she’d bought for tonight’s gathering, when a hospital in Florida called to let her know that her mother had been admitted with a broken hip. Clutching the phone, Helen sat down hard.

      “She broke her hip,” she repeated, her tone dull. How many times had she heard of seniors whose health went on a downward spiral after an accident like this? Not that her mom was that old. Flo Decater was barely into her seventies and still active, so maybe this wasn’t so bad.

      “How serious is it?” she asked with surprising hesitation for a woman who prided herself on being quick, knowledgeable and decisive in any emergency.

      “The surgery went well,” the nurse said, her tone chipper. “But she is asking for you, and you should know she won’t be able to be on her own for a while once she’s released from the hospital. That means a rehab facility or nursing home or at-home care. You can discuss that when you see her.”

      “But I…” Helen began, then stopped herself before she said that she didn’t have time to fly to Florida. She and her mother might not be close, but she owed her.

      After her husband’s death when Helen was only ten, Flo had worked two jobs to see that Helen had everything she needed growing up. Flo had scrimped and saved to make college possible, hounded Helen to keep her grades up so she could win scholarships.

      Now it was up to Helen to see that her mother was well cared for. In her mind, a condo by the water in Florida and monthly checks were adequate compensation, but clearly her mother now needed more. Helen couldn’t abandon her to figure all this out for herself.

      “Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow,” she said eventually. After all, she was an expert at juggling. Her decisiveness kicked in. How long could it possibly take to make arrangements for her mother’s care? A day or two at most. The nanny could cover Sarah Beth’s needs, and Erik would be here to take up the slack. Helen’s secretary could reschedule her appointments. Even as the thoughts crossed her mind, Helen began making lists of what needed to be done. She had an entire page of notes, including the nurse’s recommendations of local rehab facilities, before she’d hung up the phone.

      By the time the first of the Sweet Magnolias walked in the door, Helen had all of the arrangements made for a quick overnight trip to South Florida. Handling all the details kept her from actually thinking about what she’d find when she got there.

      Thank heaven for margarita night, she thought, taking her first deep swallow of a very large, very tart drink. She was going to need alcohol and good friends to face what lay ahead, because she and her mother could fight over nothing faster than two cars going sixty could collide head-on.

      Still upset by his conversation with his mother about Annie, Ty found himself heading for Cal’s office at the high school on Friday afternoon. Even before Cal had become his stepfather, he’d been Ty’s coach and mentor. Ty could talk to him about things he’d never say to his mom or even to his father. As a former big league player himself, Cal understood that world in ways that no one else around here could.

      Ty was slouched down in a chair, idly rubbing his aching shoulder, when Cal eventually came in.

      “Well, this is a surprise! What brings you by?” Cal asked, studying him intently. “You having trouble figuring out what to do with all this time on your hands?”

      “Something like that,” Ty said.

      “You could hang around here this afternoon, help me coach the pitchers.”

      Ty shook his head. “I’d need to show ‘em what I’m talking about, and right now I throw balls like a girl.”

      Cal gave him a commiserating look. “Rehab’s just started, Ty. It’ll get better.”

      “It never did for you,” Ty said, referring to the fact that Cal’s own major league career had been ended by an injury.

      “And my life turned out just fine,”