The Liar

She looked out the back door, saw Clay running around with his son on his shoulders, and her grandmother pushing Callie on the swings.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already been gone too long.”

•   •   •

SHE SLEPT IN HER childhood bed on a new mattress, and though the night was cool, kept the window open a crack so the night air could waft in. She woke to a quiet rain, snuggled right in with a smile on her face as the sound of it pattered so peacefully. She’d get up in just a minute, she told herself, check on Callie, fix her baby some breakfast.

She’d deal with the unpacking, and all the other chores that needed doing. In just five more minutes.

When she woke again, the rain had softened to a misty drizzle, a drip and plop from leaves and gutters. Around it she heard the birds singing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken to the song of birds.

Rolling over, she glanced at the pretty glass clock on the bedside table, then shot up like an arrow from a bow.

She scrambled up, dashed through the bath and into Callie’s room to find the bed empty.

What kind of a mother was she, sleeping till after nine o’clock and not having a clue where her daughter might be? Barefoot, a little panicked, she raced downstairs. A fire burned in the living room hearth. Callie sat on the floor, the old mutt Clancy curled beside her.

Stuffed animals sat in a line while Callie busily poked and prodded at the pink elephant lying trunk up on a kitchen towel.

“He’s very sick, Gamma.”

“Oh, I can see that, baby.” Curled in a chair, sipping coffee, Ada Mae smiled. “He’s looking peaked, no doubt about it. It’s lucky you’re such a good doctor.”

“He’s going to be all better soon. But he has to be brave ’cause he needs a shot.” Gently, she rolled him over, and used one of her fat crayons as a syringe. “Now we kiss it, kiss the hurt. Kisses make hurts feel better.”

“Kisses make everything feel better. Morning, Shelby.”

“I’m so sorry, Mama. I overslept.”

“It’s barely nine on a rainy morning,” Ada Mae began as Callie leaped up, ran to Shelby.

“We’re playing hospital, and all my animals are sick. I’m going to make them better. Come help, Mama.”

“Your mama needs her breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m fine, I’ll just—”

“Breakfast is important, isn’t it, Callie?”

“Uh-huh. Gamma made me breakfast after Granddaddy had to go help the sick person. I had slambled eggs and toast with jelly.”

“Scrambled eggs.” She lifted Callie for a kiss. “And you’re all dressed so nice. What time did she get up?”

“About seven. And don’t start. Why would you deny me a couple hours with my only granddaughter? Have we had fun, Callie Rose?”

“Lots and lots and lots of fun. I gave Clancy a dog cookie. He sat like a good boy, and he shook my hand, too. And Granddaddy gave me a piggyback ride all the way downstairs because I was quiet and didn’t wake you up. He had to go help the sick people. So I’m helping the sick animals.”

“Why don’t you bring your animals in the kitchen while I fix your mama some breakfast? She’s going to eat it all up like you did.”

“I don’t want you to have to feel you need to— Yes’m,” she finished, warned by the narrowed stare.

“You can have a Coke since you never did learn to be civilized and drink coffee. Callie, you can bring all the sick animals and fix them up right over there. You’re going to have eggs with ham and cheese—get some protein in there. I’ve got the whole day. I took off work until middle of the week. I’ve got a connection with the boss.”

“How will Granny run the place without you?”

“Oh, she’ll manage. Get your Coke, sit down there while I get this going. She’s fine, Shelby,” Ada Mae added in an undertone. “She’s busy and she’s happy. And your daddy and I enjoyed her company this morning. Now, I don’t have to ask how you slept. You look better already.”

“I slept ten hours.”

“New mattress.” Ada Mae chopped some ham. “And the rain. Makes you want to sleep all day. Haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

“Not especially.”

“Or eating much.”

“It’s been hard to work up an appetite.”

“A little pampering might make that easier.” She glanced over at Callie. “I’m going to tell you you’ve done a good job with that girl. Of course, some of it’s just disposition, but she’s well-mannered without being all prim about it—something that just makes my back itch in a child—and she’s happy.”

“She wakes up every day raring to go.”

“She wanted you first thing, but all I had to do was take her to your bedroom door, show her you were there sleeping, and she was fine. That’s a good thing, Shelby. A child who clings usually says more about the mother clinging. And I expect it’s been hard not to cling, on both sides these past months, when it’s just been the two of you.”