“So hooray. But you gotta get that woman packed, understand?”
“Yes, but it’s not that simple.”
“It never is,” he says. “Listen, thanks for going out there. I’m sure Cissy’s been a royal pain in the ass but it’s comforting to know that progress is being made thanks to you.”
Bess fights a groan. Progress. Right. What’s Dudley going to think when he sees Cliff House? And what will he do to Bess? With her father there are always “consequences.” He might cut her out of the family. Or send her to the Sudan with Lala.
“So, um, are you going to help pack?” Bess asks, her voice coming out in a squeak.
“Why would I do something like that? Gotta run Bessie, see you later, love you, bye.”
The phone goes dead.
Bess exhales. At least Dudley is staying at the Wauwinet and away from Cliff House. He won’t find out that Bess is a flat liar. Sorta packed. Just like Bess is sorta married. Technically. A little bit. But not in any meaningful way.
After checking for a response from Evan (nothing, nada, zilch), Bess tucks the phone into her back pocket. Jeans this time, for the love of all that’s not elastic, though the jeans are noticeably snug. Bess will have to figure out something. Soon. Sweatpants are comfy but they can’t solve all her problems.
“Hey, Cis,” she says, walking into the living room.
Her mother is hurricaning around the place, pulling and pushing and packing. Well, wonders never cease. There’s some movement yet.
“Hiya Bess!” Cissy trills as tweenager music blares from a nearby stereo.
I’m wide awake…
“Wow, Mom, I didn’t take you for a Katy Perry fan.”
“She’s cute. I like her hair!” Cissy smiles. “It reminds me of yours.”
“Isn’t hers blue?”
“Not always.”
Cissy swipes a collection of picture frames from the fireplace mantel and plunks them into a box.
“Glad to see you’re getting things done,” Bess says, and perches on the arm of a floral couch at least twenty years out of style. “Packing wise, that is.”
“Well, they can’t move the house with everything in it! Oh, Bessie, I’m just so jazzed all of a sudden. What is it that you Californians say? I’m stoked!”
“I do not say that. Ever.”
“I’m stoked on the geotube plan. Cliff House lives!”
Cissy twirls and leaps across the room, like Palmer from her ballet days, if Palmer were over sixty and mildly arthritic. Bess feels a little dizzy from all the motion.
“‘I’m falling from cloud nine,’” Cissy sings, then sets about attacking an assembly of gardening and entertaining books from the eighties.
“So Dad just called,” Bess tells her.
She checks her phone. No texts. No missed calls.
“He’s coming for the wedding,” Bess adds.
Cissy hesitates and then scowls.
“Mom?”
Cissy turns toward Bess and holds up a book.101 Ideas for Carpeting Your Bathroom.