I feel light and tingly all over. Long Island Iced Teas are the best! I should have a few more.
I set my glass down on a table with visible drink rings on it, and shudder with the need for a clean dish towel.
I turn my back on it so it won’t distract me. “I’m with Jenny.”
My cover story is that I’m visiting one of my old college friends in Alabama for a few days. I told my family that her husband is on a business trip and she’s just had twins and needs some help until he gets home.
“She’s at a bar, a week after she had a C-section?” Daisy sounds scandalized.
Shoot! This is why I don’t lie. It’s not so much that it’s immoral, I’m just terrible at it. I forget my story, I give way too much detail, I blush, I stammer—I’m the worst. “Yes, uh, she’s not drinking or anything, she just came to see her best friend’s band play.”
At this time of day? On a weekday? That sounds lame, even to me.
“What about her babies? I thought she had no one to watch them?” Her voice rises in horror. “They’re not at the bar with you, are they? Callie! How could you? All that noise will destroy their eardrums!”
“For heaven’s sake! Of course we didn’t bring them to a bar.” I’m thoroughly offended; I would never bring imaginary babies to a bar. “The neighbor’s watching them for a little while.”
“I should be calling Child Protective Services.”
“Are you listening to me? The babies are not here!”
Then I quickly change the subject to the one thing guaranteed to distract her.
“How’s the heir to the throne?” She and her husband Chase just had a son, who, I must admit, is excruciatingly cute.
“Incredibly handsome and brilliant, just like his daddy. I think he’s almost ready to start talking.”
I choke on a laugh. “He’s two weeks old. You are on a hormone high, Daisy. Just say no to hormones.”
“You’ll see. He’ll be saying full sentences any day now.”
“Sure, sure. And pigs will fly and chickens will drive tractors. So, he’s eating well and all that?” When I get anxious I go into mother hen mode. This whole trip has sent my anxiety levels into the stratosphere. All the lying and sneaking and disguises…never again.
“No, Callie, he decided he wanted to go on a juice cleanse to get rid of some of that baby fat.” I can hear her eyes roll through the phone. “Of course he’s eating well.”
“Say hi to Callie!” That’s Chase, in the background. It’s followed by the noise of a baby burbling.
“Hi, Chase,” I say dutifully. “Hi, Ethan. Your mother’s crazy.”
“Did you hear that?” Daisy says, her voice rising in excitement. “Ethan was trying to say hi!”
“Of course he was. You’re not the slightest bit cracked in the noggin. How’s Mama doing?”
“As well as can be expected, with all the preparations for the Tricentennial and everyone on the committee squabbling all day long.” Our mother has a mega-intense version of the anxiety disorder from which I suffer. After our father died, it went into hyperdrive. These days, it comes and goes.
“Has she had any episodes?” I ask.
“Nothing major.”
“Daisy,” I say in my warning tone.
She sighs. “Naomi is keeping an eye on her.” My poor cousin always gets called in when things explode.
“What happened?”
“A couple of hours ago she went shopping, had a panic attack, and couldn’t open the door.” When our mother is under too much stress, she’s afraid of the germs on doorknobs, among other things. “Naomi went and got her and brought her back home. She’s fine now.”
“Has she done anything else?”
“Like what?”
Like compulsive panic-shopping at an epic level. Such as buying twelve properties in town to house all the people who were coming for the Tricentennial, because our hotel was booked up. She paid cash for a few of the houses, emptying out our savings completely. Then she took out loans to cover the rest, and didn’t stop to think about what would happen after the Tricentennial. Our town is popular with the tourist crowd these days, but not enough to keep twelve houses consistently rented out.
That’s why we so desperately need a major headliner for the arena. It will put us on the map. Other headliners will follow, and we’ll be sure to have the constant stream of customers that we need to keep our hotel afloat.
Our hotel is the biggest employer in town. We’re also a wedding destination, we have swamp-boat tours, we