Page 55 of The Attic on Queen Street
Squinting at the tiny numbers of the clock on the coffee machine, I gave up and looked at my phone. I had exactly thirty minutes to get out of the house before the film crew and actors arrived. For the first couple of days after the filming started, I’d waited to go into work so I could see them in action. Despite everything, I was a little in awe that a piece of Hollywood was in my parlor. I didn’t recognize the ridiculously young actors portraying Jack and me—although Nola did and was trying very hard not to appear starstruck—which took away some of the excitement. By the second day of watching Marc’s overblown self-importance and smirk every time he caught Jack or me looking in his direction, I’d had enough. Although Jack said he could handle staying in the house to work and to keep an eye on Marc, I avoided the house as much as I could while the crew was there. There were a few night scenes to be filmed, already negotiated by the lawyers and on our calendars, and I was still deciding if I’d remain and stew in my room while they filmed, or decamp with the children to my parents’ house.
At the sound of tapping on the back door, I jerked, knocking my hand into my ceramic mug and sending it sliding toward the edge of the counter. I closed my eyes, waiting for the crash, not wanting to witness the death of my favorite mug. It had been a gift for my first Mother’s Day from Jack and had the tiny handprints of JJ and Sarah in blue and pink, respectively, glazed onto the sides. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes again. The mug sat suspended precariously on the counter’s edge like an Olympic diver.
I snatched it up. “Come in,” I called out while I filled the mug with coffee and a healthy pour of cream as my mother entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mellie,” she said as she hugged me, then kissed each cheek. Pulling back, she examined me more closely. “You look tired.” She raised a suggestive eyebrow.
“No, Mother. That’s not why.”
She unwound her silk Hermès scarf from her neck and unbuttonedher coat. “You can’t blame a mother for wanting her daughter to be happy. And you and Jack make each other happy. Most of the time.”
“Well, someone needs to tell that to Jack.” I frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Jayne has a dentist appointment this morning, so I’m going to watch the children. Jack said he would, but I know he’s deep into the research phase for his next book and Jayne and I didn’t want to break his momentum. And it’s not like I don’t look for every opportunity to see the little munchkins.”
“Jack’s busy researching?”
“Amelia told me,” she explained. “I assumed you knew.”
I shook my head. “He said he’s not ready to discuss the new book project with me yet.”
“I’m sorry. That must have hurt your feelings.” She narrowed her eyes. “So why aren’t you acting hurt?”
“I’m not?”
The word “munchkins” reminded me that I hadn’t had breakfast yet. Eager for a distraction, I placed my mug on the table, then opened the pantry door and pulled out a box of instant grits—an item guaranteed to sit on a shelf unopened in perpetuity. No self-identified Southerner would ever desecrate grits by getting them from a box. Reaching into the box, I pulled out a grease-stained bag from Glazed Gourmet Donuts, closing my eyes as I sniffed the doughy and sugary greatness contained inside. I replaced the empty box in the pantry and closed the door.
“No. What are you up to, Mellie?”
I kept myself busy getting two plates from the cabinet. Manners dictated that I offer one to my mother even though I knew she’d say no.
But instead she hung her coat on the back of a kitchen chair, sat down, then primly folded her hands on top of the table. “Thank you, Mellie.”
I stifled a small stab of resentment at sharing my doughnuts as I placed all of them—except for the chocolate caramel cheesecake one, which I kept in the bag—on a serving plate, which I placed in the middle of the table. “Would you like me to make you some tea?” I asked.
As if she could see my legs shaking in anticipation, she shook her head. “Just water, dear. From the tap is fine.”
I managed to sit down and offer Mother the tongs first, and lamented only the loss of a plain glazed doughnut as she put it on her plate. I placed a choco-nana nut doughnut on my plate before putting a forkful into my mouth. I chewed slowly, my eyes on the clock as I gauged how much time I had before Nola would descend and catch me.
“Aren’t these the best?” I asked after swallowing my bite with a mouthful of cream-filled coffee.
“You didn’t answer my question, Mellie. Remember, despite missing out on a lot of years together, I’m still your mother.”
My next bite stuck in my throat. I’d been a stepmother and mother for only a short time, yet I always seemed to feel the pull of a gossamer thread that connected me to my three children—a connection that went from my heart to theirs. Always joyous and sometimes painful, it was certainly more accurate and more attuned than any other sixth sense.
“I’m sure I don’t know—”
“Mellie,” she said with the same tone of voice I used on JJ when he tried to ride General Lee like a horse.
I put my fork down. “Louisa helped me have a bit of an epiphany in the garden the other night.” I took a deep breath, waiting for her to interrupt. Preparing my defense. When she didn’t interrupt, I pressed on. “Jack’s strength is figuring out puzzles and writing about them. My strength is being able to talk to dead people. There’s no reason why we can’t work together—but separately—to solve our problems. Even Jack would agree that we’re a pretty formidable team when we both use our assets to figure things out.”
I waited for my mother to speak, my appetite for doughnuts miraculously evaporating. Momentarily, anyway.
“Good for you, Mellie.”
I’d already opened my mouth to defend myself but ended up stuttering something unintelligible instead. After several tries, I managed, “What?”
“The meek and groveling Mellie isn’t the real you. She’s an impostorwhose existence was necessary for a while as you grappled with what happened and tried to figure out how to deal with the fallout.”
