Leaving Amarillo(30)

Mrs. Lawson next door usually checks in on him when we have to be gone overnight, but I dread calling her because if I’m not careful, I’ll have to listen to an hour’s worth of stories about her ungrateful children and their offspring and a complete sermon on the spiritual healing powers of her cats.

But by noon, I’m panicking and pacing and Dallas isn’t answering his phone, either. I guess his breakfast meeting ran long, which I hope is a good thing.

Unlike my grandfather, Mrs. Lawson picks up on the first ring.

“Hi, Mrs. Lawson. This is Dixie. From next door,” I say loud enough for her to hear.

“Pardon? There’s a what next door?”

Dear God. Lowering myself onto my bed and bracing myself for a nice long chat, I repeat my greeting.

“Well, little Dixie Leigh. You hang up this phone and bring yourself right on over here this instant. I’ve already got tea made.”

“Um, yes, ma’am, I would. But I’m not next door at the moment. I’m in Austin.”

“What in the Sam Hill are you doing in Boston?”

“Austin, Mrs. Lawson. I’m in Austin, Texas. For a . . . never mind. I’m just out of town. Can you do me a big ol’ favor and check on my granddad next door? He’s not answering his phone.”

“Well I’m not surprised. You know your granddaddy’s deaf as an oak tree.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, smiling.

“Just last week I saw him at the mailbox and I hollered over at him, and that man didn’t hear a word I said. He just went right on back inside.”

Papa has a hearing aid. I’m betting he was playing possum on poor Mrs. Lawson. Her husband had to go stay in an assisted living facility after his last stroke and Papa said Mr. Lawson was probably just faking the paralysis so he could get away from the motormouth of the South.

“I’m sorry he didn’t hear you, Mrs. Lawson. I guess he isn’t hearing his phone, either. Do you mind going over and knocking just to make sure he’s alive and kicking in there? I’m getting worried.”

Lord help, she’ll probably chat him up for over an hour. That’s what he gets for not answering the phone Dallas and I bought him. Bet he’ll be sure and get it next time I call.

“Sure thing, doll. I’ll head over now. You want me to call you back after I check on the old goat? Tootie Lou and Mr. Darcy have been extremely in sync with the spirits lately and I could have them read your tea leaves over the phone.”

“Gee, Mrs. Lawson, that sounds . . . educational. But um, if you could just have my granddad call me, I’d really appreciate that so much.”

“Sweet girl, missing your granddaddy. I tell you, my kids couldn’t care less. I could’ve been over here rotting all month long and wouldn’t see hide nor hair of either of them.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Mrs. Lawson. You’re just such a strong, independent woman. They probably figure you don’t want them meddlin’ in your business.”

A huffy sound comes through the phone and I shake my head even though she can’t see me.

“Tell you what, you go check on Papa for me, and I’ll make sure we have a nice, long visit next time I’m in town, okay?”

The things I do for that man. First thing I’m doing when I get home is changing his ringtone to “22” by Taylor Swift and turning the ringer up to sonic boom.

“All right, darlin’. I’m a-headin’ over there now. I’ll tell that stub born old cuss to call you.” I hear the creak of her screen door opening and sigh with relief.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Lawson. Kiss Tootie Lou and Mr. Darcy for me.”

“Will do. Best of luck with whatever you’re doing in Boston, sweetie.” Once she hangs up I jump in the shower. I figure it will be at least an hour before she leaves him be and he calls to bless me out for sending her over.

I’ve just finished towel-drying my damp hair and stepping into a simple, short black dress for the show tonight when my phone rings.

Assuming it’s Dallas calling to remind me that I have to be in the lobby an hour earlier because Ms. Lantram wants us to meet her for dinner, I answer without checking the caller ID.

“Dixie Leigh, what have I told you about siccing that damned woman on me?” My grandfather is exactly as angry as I expected him to be. And he sounds healthy as a horse so I feel like I can finally breathe.

“Papa, we got you the phone so we could check in. You worry me sick when you don’t answer it. You don’t answer, I send Mrs. Lawson. Capisce?”

“She spent forty-five minutes talking about those caterwauling felines. I was trying to listen to the Rangers game. Missed the last inning and the final score thanks to her yammering.”

“Sorry. But you know I worry.” I balance on one foot and slip on a black leather ankle boot while holding the phone to my ear. “You taking your pills like Dr. Rogers told you to? Are you using that case I got you that has the days of the week on it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “Y’all behaving in Austin? You keeping an eye on those boys?”

“Yes, sir,” I promise him. “Funny thing is, they think they’re keeping an eye on me.”

He chuckles softly. “Well now, they’d have to have two sets of eyes each to keep up with you, wouldn’t they?” He asks how the shows have gone and I recount the past few in vivid detail.