Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(20)

They left the air-conditioned comfort of the store. The sun was out in full force and at ten o’clock it was nearly seventy-five degrees.

“It’s going to be a hot one today,” Susannah said as they transferred their groceries to the trunk of her car.

Her mother responded with a half smile. “I’m sorry, Susannah, but I wouldn’t do well in Seattle. I know you’re disappointed, but I can’t leave Colville. This is my home.”

A lump momentarily filled Susannah’s throat. “I know, Mom. I don’t want to take away your home. Please understand that I only want what’s best for you.”

“I’m the one who knows what’s best for me.”

“Of course you are. Assisted living doesn’t mean you’ll lose your independence. I—”

“Assisted living? Why bring that up?” Cutting her off, Vivian climbed inside the car and locked the door.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Susannah said under her breath. She finished unloading the groceries, closed her trunk and parked the cart.

Opening the driver’s side door, she slid into her vehicle. “It wouldn’t hurt to take a look, would it?”

Her mother refused to answer.

“Mom, please don’t be so stubborn.”

Vivian turned her head away and gazed out the passenger window. In all her life Susannah had never seen her mother behave quite like this. Susannah had always viewed her mother as a subservient and obedient wife, the passive partner in that marriage. She couldn’t remember her mother going against her father’s dictates even once. Her father, the judge, ruled the home and his family. What he said was law.

Thinking about it now, Susannah marveled at the fact that, despite her father’s authoritarian ways, Vivian often managed to get what she wanted. The methods she employed were never direct. Vivian was a master manipulator, and that was clearer in retrospect than it had been at the time.

Now Susannah was compelled to be equally indirect. “I thought we’d go for a short drive,” she said pleasantly. She turned on the ignition and the air-conditioning kicked in, flooding the car with an influx of hot air until it gradually cooled.

Vivian remained quiet.

“You didn’t tell me there was a Wal-Mart in town,” Susannah said in conversational tones. “Want to go?” Her mother had always loved shopping.

“Oh.” Vivian smiled then and the tension eased from between Susannah’s shoulder blades.

Instead of going back to the house to drop off the groceries, Susannah detoured and drove past the first of the assisted-living facilities she’d contacted. It was a modern complex that resembled a nice hotel, with balconies and a fountain in front of the circular driveway.

Susannah didn’t say anything, but slowed as they drove past.

“You apparently don’t know your way home anymore,” her mother said, ice dripping from every word.

“Oh, I know where Chestnut Avenue is,” Susannah murmured. She shook her head. Vivian had never been to the assisted-living facility, but she knew exactly where it was located.

“I don’t want that milk to spoil.”

“It won’t.” Susannah turned and drove toward the house.

In less than five minutes, Susannah was unloading the car. She put the refrigerator items away and left the rest of the bags on the kitchen counter, afraid that if she delayed too long her mother might change her mind.

“You ready?” she asked.

“For what?” Her mother blinked as if confused.

“We’re going to Wal-Mart, remember?”

Vivian studied her, apparently not sure this was something that interested her.

Yeah, right, Susannah thought. She had trouble hiding a smile as the two of them went back to the car. The Wal-Mart parking lot was nearly full. This time her mother didn’t slide her arm through Susannah’s, but after a few steps she clasped Susannah’s elbow.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this many people since the Fourth of July parade,” Vivian said as the blue-vested store greeter steered a cart toward them.

“Payday at the mill,” the woman said, commenting on Vivian’s remark.

Carolyn was doing well this season, Susannah mused as she allowed her mother to push the cart. Having something to hold on to helped Vivian keep her balance.

They’d started down the first aisle when Susannah heard someone call her name. She turned to find a tall, slightly overweight woman watching her. It took a moment to realize who this was.

“Sandy? Sandy Thomas?”

“Susannah Leary?”

They broke out laughing at the same time. “My goodness, it’s years since I saw you.” Sandy’s eyes sparkled with unabashed delight.

Sandy had been a good friend, the kind of person who always saw things in a positive light. They’d kept in touch after graduation, and Susannah had served as a bridesmaid in Sandy’s wedding when she’d married Russell Giddings, the local pharmacist’s son.

“I didn’t know you lived in Colville,” Susannah said.

“Russ and I have been back for ages.”

Susannah smiled at Vivian. “You remember my mother, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. Hello, Mrs. Leary.”

“Hello, dear. You were Susannah’s friend, right?”