Page 47 of The Night the Lights Went Out
Speaking of all this exercise brings me to another, slightly related note. Have you ever noticed how gaining weight or losing weight directly impacts a person’s personality? Like how when a person gets down to the point where they don’t take up two seats at the movie theater they become more outgoing, more free with their opinions, more likely to ask for a raise or ask someone out for a date. It’s like their real personality has been hiding under all those fat cells, waiting to have its day. And all it takes is one day for a person to simply look in the mirror and decide they’ve had enough. Sometimes, earth’s little earthquakes—like a divorce—do that, too, but it’s only fair that something so awful can have a good side effect, right?
And that’s a good thing—most of the time. We should all be given the opportunity to be our real selves, regardless of how much we weigh. And sometimes having a stronger, leaner body is just the push we need to break out of our shells. Unless your real self is the spawn of Satan and you’ve been waiting years to wreak havoc on those who overlooked you in your chubbier days. That just means you’re a hateful person, thin or fat.
And that brings us to our Southern expression of the day: “You can’t tell the size of the turnips by lookin’ at their tops.” I know a married soccer mom and mother of two who is involved in every corner of her community and school. She is All That. But what she allows the rest of us to see is just the top of her, sticking out of the ground. The rest of her she keeps hidden, so nobody really sees the all of her. And from what I know, the all of her is not a pretty sight. It’s like judging a book by the cover—you’ve got to open it up and see what’s written on the inside before you form your opinion.
• • •
SUGAR
Sugar looked up from the television with annoyance at the knock on the door. Pushing herself to a stand, she waited for her body to register that she was upright before heading to the front door to open it.
“Good morning, Miss Sugar. We brought you groceries.” Colin smiled as he thrust out two Kroger bags.
Sugar looked behind him to see a similarly burdened Merilee.
“It’s a teacher workday, so no school for the kids. Lily had cheerleading practice and I took the day off to run some errands, and since your car still isn’t back, I figured you’d need a few necessities.”
Sugar raised an eyebrow, pretty confident that her idea of necessities was nothing like Merilee’s. “Thank you,” she said. “But I’m watching the weatherman on HLN. I never miss a weekday morning.” She was hoping they’d understand and just drop off the bags and leave so she wouldn’t miss any more than she had to.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had cable,” Merilee said, stepping forward so that Sugar had no choice but to open the door further and let them in. She paused to stare at the screen. “Are you watching the weatherman or the weather? Bob Van Dillen is pretty cute.”
Sugar closed her mouth in what she hoped was a look of disapproval. “I meant the weather, of course.” Which was a complete lie. The weatherman was the main reason she got up every morning. He was easy on the eyes. He also looked like Tom.
“Why don’t you come in?” she said as Merilee and Colin passed her on the way to the kitchen.
Merilee was already unpacking the grocery bags on the counter when Sugar entered the kitchen. There was her half gallon of whole milk—the Kroger brand because it was cheapest—the jar of Duke’s mayonnaise, a jar of Maxwell House instant coffee, and a bag of sugar.
“I forgot to ask you what you needed before I left for the store, and for some reason I don’t have your number programmed on my phone yet, so I had to guess. I remembered seeing these things in your kitchen before, and I know you’ve used a lot of sugar in the cookies and brownies you’ve brought over to us, so consider this me returning a favor.” Merilee spoke quickly, avoiding Sugar’s eyes, her hands busying themselves as she stowed the emptied bags inside another bag. As if she was afraid she’d be rebuked.
Sugar felt ashamed, embarrassed that she’d become so unapproachable. She attempted to redeem herself. “Why don’t you sit down and let me finish that? I’ve got some freshly made sweet tea in the icebox if you’d like to see what sweet tea should really taste like.” She couldn’t help it. There were just some things that old age granted that she was bound and determined to take full advantage of. Like removing any filters before she spoke the truth.
“Too late,” Merilee said with a smile as she stowed the last of the bags. “But I’d love some tea. Although it will be tough to beat my grandfather’s.” She said it like a challenge.
Sugar poured two glasses and placed them on the table, then turned around to ask Colin if he’d like some, but the boy had disappeared and Merilee seemed unconcerned.
Merilee picked up her glass. “Wade fixed the cellar doors at the cottage, then took me down to examine the cellar, and we found what looks like a locked army trunk. The markings have all been scratched out, and it was covered in blankets. Chances are it was just being used as a table in case the cellar had to be used in an emergency.” Merilee took a sip of her tea, smiling in appreciation and oblivious to the rush of blood in Sugar’s ears or the very real threat that Sugar was about to have a heart attack. “Not bad,” she said, swirling the ice in her glass. “Almost as good as my grandfather’s.”
Sugar could barely hear because the buzzing in her ears was so loud.
Merilee continued, like a bee prepared to sting, unaware of the damage about to be done to both parties. “Do you have any idea who it belonged to or what might be inside?”
Sugar took her time sitting down, then sipped her tea. “Wade already called me, and I told him I have no idea what it is or why it’s there.” She stood again so suddenly she thought she might faint. “Where’s Colin?”
“He’s probably looking for more bird books on your bookshelves. I didn’t think you’d mind...”
But Sugar was already walking as fast as she could out of the kitchen, turning right at the front door toward her father’s old study. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she noticed the door partly ajar. Had she left it open? She usually closed it, but sometimes, especially lately, she found herself forgetting small things like that. “Colin?” she called, facing the door.
“He’s in here,” Merilee called from behind her.
With one hand pressing against her chest, Sugar closed the door, making certain it was latched, before she turned around and walked into the front parlor. She ignored Merilee’s expression of concern, her gaze settling on Colin, who was sitting on the floor in front of her mother’s cedar chest, which had once held Astrid’s wedding trousseau. The top was still shut, owing most likely to the crystal lamp and ceramic dog figurine on the top. But one of the two drawers had been pulled open, and Colin was occupied with examining an old jam jar, the lid still intact and showing a smattering of punched holes.
“Colin!” Merilee called out, her son either too engrossed to hear or purposefully ignoring her. “I’m so sorry,” Merilee said to Sugar, attempting to remove the jar from Colin’s hands. “He’s generally pretty curious, but I thought I’d taught him better than to invade someone’s privacy—”
“Jimmy used to catch tadpoles in that jar,” Sugar said, cutting her off. “I’d forgotten that was in there.” She stepped forward to look inside the opened drawer, half-afraid of what else she might see. What memories might nudge sleeping ghosts.
Colin relinquished his hold on the jar. “Apologize to Miss Sugar for invading her privacy,” Merilee prompted.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy,” Colin parroted, his tone making it clear that he had no idea why what he’d done was wrong. He was like Jimmy that way. There were no sins against curiosity, and the world was full of things to explore.
