Calumet, page 14
the fact she lived a little north of where Tully did, but that’s
where the similarities ended. When she compared their
families, it was like night and day. Tully had come from a
brood who loved and accepted her for who she was and who
she loved. Jax’s aunt loved Libby, Tully’s wife, as much as
she loved her own children, and that made her wonder if
Alma and her father were really related.
“Get out here, and let’s see how much you’ve aged,”
Tully yelled from her front porch.
They hugged and Libby stood by and shook her head.
“What she means is, we’re glad you’re here,” Libby said.
“Come inside.”
They entered, and Jaxon had to smile at all the toys
strewn around the main room. Tully and Libby had added
another little boy to the two kids Tully had with her first
partner Jessica. “How are the kids?”
“Great,” Libby said. “Bailey’s preparing for LSU, and
Ralph’s busy trying to fend off every girl at school. I have to
peel this one off the wall every night because of all the
dating going on around here. Ralph likes to play the field,
and Bailey’s got a girlfriend. Thank God Henry only seems
interested in Sesame Street.”
“Where is the little guy?” She followed them to the
kitchen and sat at the island with Tully.
“Day care,” Tully said. “Libby pries him out of my arms
every morning and pushes me out the door so he can play
with kids his own age.”
“With your immaturity level, I’d think you’d make the
perfect playmate.”
Libby laughed as Tully made a rude gesture. “Sure, make
fun of me, and I’m so sorry Margot couldn’t make it. We
wanted to tell you guys together.” Tully smiled as Libby
came and leaned against her. “We have another one on the
way.”
Jaxon closed her eyes momentarily as a surge of jealousy
coursed through her at the news. She was happy for them,
but she was ready to admit that she wanted that with
Margot. “Congratulations. Margot’s going to be sorry she
couldn’t make it.”
“It’s time for you to put a ring on that girl’s finger,” Libby
said. She moved to the stove to check on lunch. “If you
need reassurance that the age difference isn’t a problem,
ask your buddy there.”
“I’m not that old,” she said, and Libby laughed. “Did
Margot call you and give you some pointers on bending me
to her will?”
“Libby and Margot are smarter than both of us, so I’d
listen to them.” Tully squeezed her shoulder and pointed to
the front of the house. “I’m glad you’re here, but I’m
shocked. You’ve always said it would take a death to bring
you back here, so what changed your mind?”
Tully seemed to understand her better than anyone else
when it came to this subject. “The same argument that
landed you in the land of diapers again. Margot asked me to
come to try to put some stuff to rest.” She scrubbed her
face with her hands and sighed. “I would’ve given it a pass,
but I didn’t want to disappoint her. I’m happily whipped.”
“I totally get that, and if you want, Libby and I would love
to come with you if you need some friendly faces. Think
about it before you blow us off. Besides, Granny would love
to see Henry.” Tully sat forward and threw a few trucks in a
toy box.
“Did Margot ask you to do that?”
“Are you going to get pissed if I say yes?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m not sure how I
lucked out there, but she does stuff because she loves me. I
don’t think I’ve been truly mad from the time she dragged
me out on a date. She looks at me, and whatever’s
bothering me flies out of my head.”
“You’re a faster learner than me, then. It took Libby
whacking me in the head a few times when she was doing
things for me for my own good, and I wasn’t cooperating.”
Tully laughed, and Libby joined her when she came in and
handed them each an iced tea.
“I’m not so crazy that I’d ignore Margot’s advice. She’s
got the pinch from hell.”
They sat down to lunch and talked about growing up
along the bayou as well as their days at LSU, making Libby
laugh. She and Tully, as well as Bert and a few other good
friends, had a good time back then even if they didn’t
exactly fit in with the majority of students. It was fun to
reminisce, and if this had been the reunion she was coming
for, she’d gladly do it more than once a year.
The horrible years of high school had been balanced out
when she’d gone to college. It was hard remembering all
those good memories since the bad had a louder drumbeat.
She needed to bring Margot here and share this with her.
Margot wanted to know her past, and this part of it had
been the beginning of her survival. She’d felt alone for most
of her life, but when she thought about it, she hadn’t been,
not really. There’d been family like Tully and her friends, and
that had been enough.
“I guess I should get going,” she said a few hours later.
“No way,” Libby said as they sat outside with coffee.
“Margot canceled your room for tonight because you’re
staying here. She wants new pictures of Henry, so stop
pouting.” She had to smile when Libby pressed on her lip. “I
think it’s a test to see if you actually know how to hold a
baby. Besides, one day with us might be more fun than the
reunion you’re driving out for.”
Libby kissed Tully before leaving for a few minutes to pick
Henry up. It gave them a chance to talk privately about all
the things that she tried her best not to freak out over on a
daily basis. Marriage, children, and keeping Margot happy
had a tendency to panic her, but it was hard to deny how
happy Tully appeared. Her cousin had taken a chance and
was happy to tell her it was time to do the same. They
rounded that out with her latest stories of Wilber.
“I’m sorry Libby lost her parents young, but I’m also
lucky I don’t have to sit through that every week,” Tully said,
laughing hard enough to wipe her eyes.
“Sure, laugh at my expense. If I ever go missing, make
sure he’s questioned extensively by the police, and check
the trunk of his car for my blood. But I’d rather face Wilber
every day than go to this thing.”
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you? I have
the time, and Henry loves to travel,” Tully said.
They heard the front door open and the squealing of a
small child. Henry seemed to be full of energy, and it made
her feel good when he ran to her and gave her a big hug.
“Believe me, if this was golf and good times, I’d be
helping you pack. I’m going so I don’t disappoint Margot by
being a coward, but I’ll be fine on my own. I’d like to see
Granny and my brother again too. It’s been a while since
we’ve been in the same space, and I’d like to think he’s a
little more evolved than the rest of the family.” She
accepted the truck Henry handed her and rolled it back to
him when he moved away.
She wasn’t a masochist. Having Tully and Libby there
would make the weekend easier, but then she was stuck. If
it got to be too much, there’d be no escape, so going it
alone was the best option. She didn’t think anything would
change—that was a given. This time would be the last time,
though, and it would be her family who’d cut the bonds
between them. They’d have to live with that, and she’d
finally have her closure.
“Will you at least promise to come by with Bert before
you leave?” Libby asked. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen
him, and it’ll be nice to have both of you over for lunch or
something.”
“That I can do. I’ll call Sunday morning and let you know
when we’ll be here.”
They went out to a local place close to the house for
dinner and Henry kept up a conversation of mostly babble
as Bailey and Ralph took turns pushing him in his stroller.
The night was a good reminder that not all things from the
darkest period of her life were horrible. Tully and her
family’s acceptance had given her hope that there was a
path forward she could not only embrace, but also be happy
with.
The next morning, they had breakfast, and she enjoyed
the easy conversation about their upcoming day. She and
Margot spent most of their mornings like this as well, but
the rings Tully and Libby wore spoke of a permanence she
didn’t have. Of course she didn’t only because of stubborn
pride, and she’d have to work on that. She was successful at
what she did and would’ve lived comfortably, albeit with
nothing like the home and lifestyle Margot’s success
brought them. It was hard sometimes not to feel kept, but
that was on her and not Margot.
But also, she was damaged. Her mother had said it
repeatedly, and on some level the message had sunk in.
She had friends and some family, but she’d never thought
to commit to anyone, not wanting to give them the power to
hurt her when they saw what her mother had seen. It was
ridiculous to think no one would ever love her because she
was unlovable, but that hurt kid who’d withstood the
barrage of angry hurtful words wasn’t completely gone.
“Call if you need some friendly faces to survive the
weekend,” Libby said as she held Henry, who was waving
wildly. The kid looked just like Tully and had that same
rambunctious personality.
“I will, but concentrate on keeping an eye on this one. It’s
a good thing she tells me you’re the best attorney in the
firm. Keeping her out of trouble should keep you busy until
you’re ready to retire.” She hugged Tully before doing the
same with Libby and the kids.
Margot had called the night before to talk to Libby for a
while. It was funny that she and Tully were family and spoke
maybe once a month, but Libby and Margot spoke weekly, if
not more. Tully often joked that the two of them were
planning her life for her as well as trading tips to keep both
of them in check.
“I didn’t have a chip inserted in her ass for nothing,”
Libby joked. “And get back early enough on Sunday so I can
take you shopping. There’s a great jewelry store in the
Quarter I’d like to show you. There are some antique rings
that I think Margot would flip over.”
“I’m starting to see a pattern emerge in Margot’s orbit of
people. Don’t fuss—I’m not going to disappoint.”
“I’ll hold you to that, and I have someone Bert might
want to meet.” Libby handed Henry over when he started
squirming too much.
“How does he feel about chest hair?”
“I have no idea, why?” Libby appeared confused.
She smiled and shook her head. “Call Margot and ask.
Bert’s inherited none of the luck of the Irish.”
“I thought his family was French,” Tully said.
“Precisely.”
* * *
Jaxon was able to catch Margot while she was still at
home and talked to her for most of the trip to Chackbay. She
had to thank Margot for rearranging her schedule to stay
with her old friends as a way to lift her spirits before she
went home.
“Remember one thing, honey,” Margot said.
“What’s that?” She turned off the main highway onto a
two-lane road that would take her back not only in time, but
off the beaten path.
“You’re a badass who teaches at one of the most
prestigious schools in the country. Don’t take any shit from
anyone.”
Margot’s delivery was fierce, and it made her chuckle. “I
thank God for you every day, my love.” She concentrated on
the road as she talked to Margot and enjoyed the scenery
along the way. The old cypress homes raised off the ground
dotted the right side of the road, while Bayou Lafourche
stretched out on the left. It was like stepping back in time in
more ways than the obvious. Some tourists flocked here to
see this simple way of life, but to her it was like a visual
migraine. She wanted to lock herself away in a dark room
and sleep until it was over.
“Back at you, lover. Be careful and call me later—my
ride’s here.”
“Have fun, and if there’s any kissing scenes, give me fair
warning.”
“That’s a deal, and let’s hope the writers do the same for
me. Go find Bert and bring me home some pecans.”
She moaned at Margot’s pronunciation, pee-cans. “Babe,
it’s pa-cawns.” She said the word like everyone in her
hometown, the accepted way in Louisiana.
“Thank God I’m not standing close to you, or you
would’ve marked me with that famous red pen of yours.
Love you, honey,” Margot said before hanging up.
Jaxon stayed on the same road, and eventually it gave
way to marsh and swamps. The swamp was as timeless as
the culture of the people who lived along its cusp. It never
really changed except it wasn’t as green in the winter, but
the moss still hung from the cypress trees growing up out of
the water, and the palmettos clung to the very little land.
She still remembered the smell of the mud and how mad
her mother got when she and Roy got home covered in it
when they went on their adventures. The swamp was full of
beauty but also had its share of deadly things. It’d been a
good training ground for life.
The people were a lot like that Spanish moss in the trees.
They clung to their faith as well as traditions, and change
came slow, if at all. In her experience Louisianans were
born, lived, and died all within a ten-mile radius of the
Catholic church they attended every Sunday and holy day,
out of obligation. Sunday mornings were spent sitting on
hard oak pews, trying to forget the sins of Saturday nights,
and thinking about the football or baseball game they’d
watch when the priest quit his droning.
Jax often wondered what life would have been like had
she not been so eager to leave the little town that was
almost like a museum of a bygone era. As fast and as far as
Jax had run, there were still some things she’d learned
growing up that she’d packed and brought with her. Margot
loved that she greeted anyone who made eye contact with
her whenever they went out. An older woman in Beverly
Hills had once shoved a twenty in her hand after Jax had
said good morning, as if thinking it was the appropriate
response. Southern ways didn’t always translate well in LA.
Despite the little things Jax had taken from the small
town of Chackbay, it was never a place she felt a part of,
even though her family was active in the community. It had
been a lonely existence growing up, as she tried to find a
sense of place as elusive as a snowy day in the South. That
first glimpse of what the world could be hadn’t come until
the day she walked into Miss Eugenia Landry’s English class
as a senior.
Miss Landry understood Jax and saw her potential. Aside
from Bert, Eugenia was, at the time, her one true friend.
That last year of school, Eugenia had opened a new world of
poetry and classics to Jax by lending her young protégé the
priceless books she had collected through the years. She’d
treasured their afternoons together, talking about the
written word and the meaning of all those classics.
With careful guidance in those long months of Jax’s
senior year, Eugenia had taught her how to think like a
scholar, and Jaxon knew her teacher considered that the
crowning achievement in her long and fruitful career. Jax still
had the letter Eugenia had written her when she’d
graduated from LSU, telling her just that, and that she
believed in her. Eugenia had written eloquently about how
there was nothing she couldn’t accomplish if she simply
worked for it, and there would be plenty of students in Jax’s
future who’d give thanks to have spent time in the
classroom with her. That letter had been the catalyst that
had gotten her through her doctorate on the days she
wanted to quit and take up some job that required no
thought.
