Hand-Me-Down Love Read online

  Hand-Me-Down Love

  By Jennifer Ransom

  Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Ransom

  Cover art by Design Dept.

  All rights reserved.

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  This is a work of fiction. References to actual people, places, and events are used to lend authenticity to the novel and are used fictitiously. All characters, dialog, and events are from the author's imagination and are not real. Any resemblances to real people, places, events, or dialog are coincidental.

  This book may not be copied, scanned, or reproduced in any way without permission from the author.

  Jennifer Ransom is the author of Love Weaver and Come Down In Time.

  To my son, Ethan, a creative writer who has inspired me as a mother and a writer.

  Chapter One

  Marla would never forget the day her sister told her she was sick. She had been out in the courtyard of her antiques shop when she heard the buzzer, which meant someone had come in the front door. She walked through the back door and into the desk area of the shop. Meredith was standing there with a stricken look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Marla asked.

  Meredith started crying. Marla walked to her sister and put her arm around her. “What is it, Merrie?” She asked. “What’s going on?”

  Meredith pulled away from her sister then. She looked at her with tears in her eyes.

  “I just got a call from the doctor. It’s serious.”

  Panic moved through Marla. “What?” she said.

  “I’ve got a brain tumor,” Meredith said, her voice breaking. “I’ll have to go in next week to see if I can have surgery.”

  Marla pulled Meredith to her. “No,” was all she said. “No.”

  Marla led Meredith to the chair on the opposite side of the desk and sat her down in it. “Could you bring me something to drink? I’m parched,” Meredith said.

  “I’ll be right back with some tea,” Marla said as she walked across the shop to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Marla returned to Meredith, who had her head in her hands as she leaned on the desk. Marla put the steaming teacup in front of her.

  “Tell me what the doctor said,” she said to her sister. “Tell me everything.”

  “You know I’ve been having those terrible headaches for a while. I’ve been taking medicine for them, but it hasn’t really helped. Then my vision got blurry in my right eye.”

  “I knew about the headaches,” Marla said, “but not the blurry vision.”

  “I know,” Meredith said. “I was playing it down, thinking it was an eye infection or something. So, I was at Dr. Woodson’s for a regular visit last week,” she said. “Nothing going on. I just wanted a check-up since we’re thinking about having a baby soon. I wasn’t expecting anything unusual at all.”

  “So, Dr. Woodson was doing his thing, checking in my mouth while I said ‘Ahhh.’ All that stuff. And he asked me about my headaches and I told him about the blurry vision.”

  Meredith stopped talking and took a sip of tea.

  “He got concerned then and sent me to a neurologist right away. Dr. Nelson ordered a CAT scan of my brain. And now, I have brain cancer.”

  “I’m sure it’s treatable,” Marla said hopefully. “There are treatments, right?”

  “Yes,” Meredith said. “There are treatments and I’m going to have every one of them, including the newest ones. I’m going to fight as hard as I can to beat this.”

  Marla was in a state of shock. “What does Sean say?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t know about it yet,” Meredith said. “I didn’t want to worry him or you until there was a reason to. I dread telling him.”

  The sisters sat for a few minutes without talking, drinking their tea. Meredith’s hand shook as she held her teacup up to her lips.

  “I know you’re going to beat this,” Marla finally said. “I know you will. You’ve always been strong. Remember when you had meningitis? You beat that, and you’re going to beat this too.” Marla sounded more hopeful than she felt. Brain tumor was a scary word.

  Meredith put her teacup on the desk and stood up from the chair. “I’ve got to get going now. Sean will be home soon and I’m going to have to tell him.”

  Marla came around from her side of the desk and hooked Meredith’s arm through hers.

  “I’ve got a favor to ask you,” Meredith said.

  “Anything,” Marla said. “Anything at all.”

  “This is a lot to ask. I know that. Will you tell Mom and Dad for me? I don’t think I can do it without breaking down. I know I should be the one to tell them. But it seems too hard to do right now.”

  “I understand,” Marla said. “I’ll tell them.”

  Marla stood in the open door and noticed for the first time that day that it was cloudy. She watched Meredith walk down the sidewalk and get into her car which was parked a few spaces down from the front of the shop. She watched her sister back out of the parking space and drive away. When she could no longer see her car, she shut the door and slid to the floor, where she began to cry. Her big sister was sick, and Marla couldn’t do anything about it.

  A few minutes later, someone began to push on the door Marla was leaning against. Marla picked herself up from the floor and stepped back. It was Jada, Marla’s assistant manager.

  “Are you okay?” Jada asked.

  “Yeah,” Marla said, not wanting to talk about Meredith yet. “I’m okay. It’s just been a rough day and I was taking a break.”

  “Okay,” Jada said uncertainly. It was not a normal thing for Marla to be sitting on the floor against the front door. But Jada respected her privacy.

  “Derrick and I just got back from that estate sale in Fairhope. I think we got a lot of good stuff,” Jada said. “He’s unpacking it in the back.”

  “Good,” Marla said briskly. “Let’s go see what he got.”

  The two women walked toward the back and took a left down the back hall that led to the delivery door. Derrick was in the truck, placing pieces of furniture toward the opening of the van. In her mind’s eye, Marla could see some nice pieces, but her mind was so scattered and distracted, she couldn’t say what those pieces were.

  “I’m sorry, Jada,” Marla said. “Do you think you and Derrick can handle this? I’ve got a killer headache and need to lie down.”

  “Of course,” Jada said, concerned. “Do you want me to bring you something for your headache? I’ve got some Extra Strength Tylenol.”

  “Thanks,” Marla said. “I appreciate it. I’ve got something upstairs. Can you take care of things?’

  Jada nodded, and Marla walked to the door that opened to the stairway that led to her apartment above the shop. She walked up the stairs, her heart heavy with worry. She opened the door at the top of the stairs and entered her kitchen. Sun streamed through the windows onto her red Formica vintage table and leather chairs. Marla opened a cabinet door and found a bottle of aspirin. She shook out three into her palm and gulped them down with a glass of water. Normally, she would feel happy to be home, but today she walked to her bedroom and fell on the bed. Nothing seemed normal anymore.

  Chapter Two

  A few hours later Marla woke up disoriented. The room was completely dark. She groped for the lamp beside the bed and turned it on. The digital clock read 8:13. The memory of Meredith’s visit flooded over her. She wanted to call her but didn’t want to be intrusive. Meredith m
ust have told Sean by now about the tumor, and she had no idea how things were going over there. She texted Meredith instead, asking her to call her the next day.

  Marla walked through the living room of the apartment, which she had decorated with mostly vintage and folk pieces. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t much in there, except for leftover Chinese take-out. Marla got a fork out of the drawer and ate the shrimp lo mein straight out of the cardboard box, cold. She barely tasted it.

  When she was finished, she walked into the alcove between the living room and bedrooms and sat at the massive desk that she had inherited from her grandfather. Her computer lit up as she touched the mouse. For the next several hours, Marla researched brain cancer. She visited webmd.com and the Mayo Clinic sites, before moving on to websites with personal stories, written by people who had survived or were being treated for brain tumors. It was encouraging. There were a lot of treatments, some experimental, that were keeping people alive. Marla began to feel better and chided herself for overreacting.

  She heard a plaintive meow and realized she had left Lucy outside. The calico would be hungry. Marla went down the stairs and unlocked the back door. Lucy walked in and rubbed herself on Marla’s ankles before heading up the stairs. Marla followed the cat into the kitchen and put food in her bowl, a turquoise McCoy piece she had bought for the shop before deciding she liked it too much to sell. Lucy concentrated on her food and Marla wandered back to her bedroom. She was still tired and put on a gown before crawling into bed. Lucy jumped up a few minutes later and Marla fell asleep with the cat curled up against her legs.

  She woke up with a start to the sound of church bells ringing and cars honking their horns. She looked at the clock. 3:53. It was a jubilee, which meant that shrimp and crab and fish had come up to the shore and were easy picking. It was a complicated situation where conditions had to be just right that forced the sea creatures to the shallow shore during a high tide. It had something to do with oxygen levels in the water, forcing the creatures to seek oxygen above the water and on the sandy shore. It happened before dawn and was short-lived. But while it was happening, people harvested the seafood in buckets. Sometimes it would be a shrimp jubilee, where most of the creatures were shrimp. Or a crab jubilee. Normally, Marla would have jumped up and gone to the bay to gather whatever was there. But that morning, she didn’t care. She could only think about Meredith.

  The bells and horns stopped a few minutes later and Marla dozed. When she woke up again it was after eight and Lucy was nipping at her toes. Time to eat, the cat was saying. Marla got up and fed the cat. She would give Meredith until noon to call her, and then Marla would call her.

  Marla wasn’t very hungry but took an apple from the basket on the table and went downstairs. It was Saturday, usually a busy day in the shop. Jada had posted on the website, Facebook, and the blog that Bay Point Antiques and Vintage had a selection of wooden dough bowls that had just come in. They were one of the shop’s most popular items. Marla had to get ready.

  In the shop kitchen, Marla made a pot of coffee. She wandered through the shop, taking inventory. One side was devoted to high-end antiques that could be pricey. Mobile society mavens checked her store out frequently to furnish their homes in the city and their vacation homes on the bay. They didn’t mind paying the hefty prices, didn’t think twice about it. But, Marla reasoned, the prices were still good for what they were getting.

  The other side of the shop featured vintage items, mostly from the turn of the twentieth century through the fifties or sixties. Marla loved the vintage side. She loved the customers, who weren’t rich usually but had a feeling for vintage. They wanted tablecloths printed with roses and strawberries. They collected McCoy pottery pieces that were colorful and sometimes whimsical. Once, Marla had a chandelier with white flowers and golden leaves and two women had argued over it. Each said they had spotted it first, had put their hand on it first. Marla didn’t know what to do, and other customers were staring. “That’s not on the market right now,” she had said to the women. “It’s broken and needs to be repaired before it can be sold. It shouldn’t have been out here.” She took the chandelier and moved it to the back. She knew she would probably lose the customers’ business, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  At nine, Jada came through the front door using her key.

  “Hey,” she said when she saw Marla sitting at her desk. “Did you go to the jubilee?”

  “No,” Marla said. “I was too tired.”

  “Aww, that’s too bad,” Jada said. “It was a shrimp jubilee. But I got some flounder and a few crabs too.”

  Marla never got the crabs at a jubilee. She just didn’t have the stomach for throwing them in a pot of boiling water. She never had. She could deal with the shrimp and fish, though. And, she did love crab, but only if someone else did the dirty work.

  “I think we’re going to get a big crowd today because of the dough bowls,” Marla said. “You did a good job getting that message out.”

  “Thanks,” Jada said. “I’m thinking we need to start a Twitter account, too. Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”

  Marla nodded. “I think that’s just what I need right now,” she said.

  Marla sat at her desk staring at the walls and ceiling. She was having a hard time getting herself together for the business day ahead. A few minutes later, Jada returned with a cup of coffee with cream and set it on the desk.

  “I’m going to go through the shop and make sure everything’s in place,” Jada said, taking her cup of coffee with her as she went through the door to the vintage side.

  Marla unlocked the door close to ten and it wasn’t long before customers started streaming in. The dough bowls drew them, but they would end up buying more than that. Vintage was hard to resist. One customer bought a Hoosier cabinet made in the forties that still had the flour bin. That was rare. The original white paint was chipped and worn. Marla offered to paint the piece for the customer, in any color she chose, but the customer wanted the original finish with all of its dings and worn spots.

  Right before noon, when Marla was going to call Meredith, Meredith called her.

  “I didn’t see you at the jubilee,” she said. “It was a shrimp one.” Meredith sounded excited. Marla hated to bring up the brain cancer. The word was too harsh, too real.

  “I was too tired to go,” Marla said. Then, hesitating, she said, “Did you talk to Sean?”

  Meredith didn’t say anything right away. Finally, she said, “Yes, I told him. He’s upset. But when we heard the jubilee I made him get up and go. He didn’t want to, but I made him. I just want things to be normal,” she finished with a sigh.

  “I know,” Marla said.

  “So, I’m going to make some gumbo with some of the shrimp and freeze the rest for a shrimp boil. Do you want to come over for some gumbo tonight?”

  Meredith made the best gumbo. She had learned the recipe and secrets of the roux when she worked at a seafood restaurant in Mobile while she was in college. “I’ll show you how to do it,” she had told Marla when they were in college. But Marla was too busy dating and partying to pay attention to gumbo. She had never learned how to make it.

  “Okay,” Marla said. “I’d love to have some of your gumbo. What time?”

  “I’d say about eight,” Meredith said.

  “Are you sure it’s a good night for me to come over?” Marla asked her sister.

  “Of course,” Meredith said. “You’ve got to have gumbo! It’s way too much for me and Sean.”

  Everyone who came in the shop was talking about the jubilee. Did you go? How many buckets did you get? What are you going to make? Marla felt a little left out. As the afternoon wore on, the customers dwindled in the shop. By closing time at six, all of the dough bowls had been sold and Marla had a waiting list for the next batch she got. She also sold an antique dining set that was huge and fit for people who had a lot of dinner parties, which the customer did. A few pieces
of jadeite, the milky green glass that was popular in the thirties and forties, were sold to a woman who was decorating her kitchen in green and white.

  At six, Marla locked the door and said goodbye to Jada. “See you Monday,” Jada said as she left through the back door. Marla walked to the back door and looked at the courtyard. Lucy was sunning herself near a planter. “Come on, girl,” Marla said to the calico. “Time to eat.” Lucy followed Marla up the stairs to the apartment, where Marla filled her bowl.

  After sitting on the couch and watching television for a while, Marla got up and changed into a long sundress with a pattern of pink roses scattered on a white background. After the jubilee, the weather had turned decidedly humid. She drove the five blocks to her sister’s house that overlooked the bay. Marla pulled up next to the carport where her sister’s gray SUV was parked next to Sean’s silver BMW. She walked between the cars to the kitchen door and knocked.

  Meredith opened the door and Marla could see she had been crying. “Come in,” she said, trying to smile.

  Marla stepped into the kitchen that had been refurbished with black granite countertops, the highest-end appliances including a Viking gas stove, a travertine floor, and maple cabinets. A big pot was on the stove and Marla could smell the rich fragrance of the gumbo.

  “Ummm, smells good,” Marla said, pretending she didn’t see Meredith’s tears. Sean walked in from the den and he looked just as upset as Meredith. Marla felt like she definitely shouldn’t be there as they dealt with Meredith’s illness, just hours after the diagnosis. She wanted to leave but didn’t know how to do that gracefully.

  “I’m just getting a beer,” Sean said opening the refrigerator. He stood for a long moment staring into the cold refrigerator.

  “Well, here’s the beer,” Meredith said. “Here you go.” She took a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and opened it for Sean.