Small Town Girl

Atherton got sick, there was nobody to take over and Casey talked him into it. Since he already sang in the church choir and nobody else volunteered, he agreed to do it. That was about six months ago and nobody else has come forward yet, so he's still directing.'

'How do they sound?'

'Pretty decent. They haven't been invited to back up Pavarotti or anything, but'-Renee shrugged-'decent.'

Judy spoke up. 'Saint Kenny?'

'Well, isn't he? Mother seems to have canonized him.'

'He's very good to her.'

'Very good to her! He might as well move right in! He plants her garden, fills her water softener, installs her new garage door! Hell, I'm surprised he didn't show up to do her hip replacement surgery this morning! I mean, every time I turn around I'm running into this guy. What is going on?'

Judy and Renee exchanged baffled glances.

'Maybe you'd better tell us what's going on,' Renee responded. 'The guy helps Mom-what's wrong with that?'

Judy added, 'And we've known him our whole lives long, so, yes, what is wrong with that?'

Tess stood before her sisters caught in an unjustified bout of temper. How could she reveal-especially to Judy- that Kenny had set her off by ignoring her? If that didn't sound like a star with a bloated ego, what did?

'I send her money all the time. Plenty of money! What does she do with it? She could pay to have her garage door installed, and she could hire someone to mow her lawn, and have the Culligan man come and service her water softener, but instead she has Kenny Kronek do it. It just aggravates me, that's all! And you know what else hurts? The fact that I offered to buy her the house of her choice, a brand-new one so she wouldn't have to be replacing garage doors and everything else that's crumbling to pieces around the place. She could have a dishwasher, and a laundry room on the main floor, and an air conditioner and anything else she wanted, but she said no. For heaven's sake, have you taken a look at her kitchen cupboards lately? The Formica is worn right down to the underlayer in spots. And her front steps are tilting and the sidewalk is cracking apart. Her bedroom carpeting is as old as we are, and the tile in the bathroom is still that god-awful putrid stuff that was put on when the place was built. I send her nice clothes from really good stores when I'm out on tour, and she wears that lavender polyester slacks set that she probably bought fifteen years ago. I just don't understand her anymore.'

When Tess quit speaking, a deep, thoughtful quiet spread through the room. Judy and Renee exchanged discreet glances before the latter spoke quietly.

'She's getting old, Tess.'

'Old! She's only seventy-four!'

'Old enough that she doesn't want change. She wants what's familiar.'

'But that's absurd.'

'Maybe to you, but not to her. There's a lifetime of memories in that house. Why would she want to move away from it?'

'All right, I'll concede that she probably wouldn't want to leave the house, but couldn't she update it a little?'

'You know what your trouble is?' Judy said. 'You haven't been around to see her aging. You come home once a year or so and demand that she be the same as she always was, only she's not. Sure she gets stubborn, and sure she thinks that there's no use making changes at this late date, but if she's happy, leave her alone.'

Tess stared at Judy. Then at Renee. 'Is she right?'

'Basically.'

'But does Mother have to look so shabby? Can't you get her to do something with her hair, Judy? You own a beauty shop.'

'I've tried. She knows she can come in anytime for a style or a perm, whatever she needs, but it's always some excuse. Either her hips hurt or she has gardening to do.'

'Oh, don't even mention gardening! That's the last thing on earth she needs is that garden!'

'It gives her great joy, her garden.'

'It gives her hip aches, that's what it gives her.'

'That, too, but you're not going to change her mind, so why try? She's had a garden her whole life long, and we all know she doesn't need to raise her own vegetables, but it makes her happy, so let her be.'

'And while you're at it, let Kenny Kronek do what he wants for her,' Renee added. 'The truth is, he seems to be able to convince her to make changes when we can't. Jim told her I don't know how many times that she should have an automatic garage-door opener installed, because it hurt her hips when she bent down to reach the handle. He even offered to do it for her, but she always said no. Then one day she just announces that she's got one and Kenny put it in for her. I don't pretend to understand, but the two of them get along like peas in a pod, so I'm just grateful to have him around.'

When Tess went into Mary's room for the last time that afternoon, she looked at her differently, trying to grasp the fact that she was aging, that at seventy-four she had a right to be getting a little feisty. Perhaps Judy was right. Perhaps coming home so seldom left Tess with the illusion that time was not marching on.

She pressed the four-leaf clover into Mary's hand. 'That's from Casey Kronek. She came by to see how you are and said to give you this. She found it out in the pasture where she keeps her horse. Said to give you her love and tell you she'd be back to see you tomorrow.'

'Oh, isn't that nice. That Casey's a sweet girl.'

'Listen, Mom… I'm going to leave now but I'll be back tomorrow. Anything you want, you just let me know, and if you're uncomfortable during the night, you ask for a pain pill, will you?'

'I will.'

'We're going to be going, too,' the other girls said.

They took turns kissing her and left her looking drowsy and pale.

Outside, they took great gulps of the sweet air. They looked up at the blue spring sky. But they were all silent as they walked toward their cars. In the parking lot, Renee gave Tess a genuine good-bye hug, but Judy offered only a moue that passed for a kiss on the cheek but was not.

It felt like being released, driving away, even in Mary's old Ford Tempo. The spring day was glorious and had warmed up to eighty degrees. Creeping phlox and irises were blooming in front yards. Here and there, rhododendrons made a splash of color. Tess took her time, stopping at a Kroger supermarket and buying herself some fresh vegetables, low-fat salad dressing and boneless chicken breasts before heading back toward Wintergreen. Driving along the familiar roads, she found herself cataloging her mixed feelings about being home again.

There was something to be said for living away from family. Out there, in Nashville and beyond, she was clear of the daily reminders of her mother's health, of Judy's jealousy and all the other petty irritations that had cropped up in the twenty-four hours she'd been home. Being here had brought moments of nostalgia, but more often she became aware of how different she was from the girl who'd left. Her values and priorities had changed. Her pace had changed. Her acquaintanceship, scope and obligations. Was that necessarily bad? She didn't think so. What she had accomplished with her life had taken tremendous energy and commitment, so much, in fact, that on a day-to- day basis there was little room left in her mind for what she thought of as social trifles.

Judy's jealousy was a social trifle.

Mother's stubbornness was a social trifle.

When Tess was wrapped up in business she forgot about such things. At home, idle, they niggled and their importance in the overall scheme of life got blown out of proportion.

When she pulled up in the alley at five o'clock, another of those social trifles was waiting to irritate her: Kenny Kronek was mowing her mother's backyard, dressed in blue jeans, a white V-neck undershirt and a navy-and-red Cardinals baseball cap. He looked up but kept on mowing as she stopped in the alley and activated the garage door. Throughout the jockeying of cars, which took a while, he went on cutting swaths up and down the length of the yard, disappearing to the front, then reappearing in back. When her mother's car was tucked away and her own returned to the apron, Tess took her groceries and headed for the house. She and Kronek met head-on when she was halfway up the sidewalk.