“Be right there.” James balled up the evidence of his frantic snacking and flushed the toilet for good measure. Francis was already gone when he emerged from the stall, shoved the cheese-puff bags in the trash can, and then hastily rinsed and dried off his hands.
“Everything okay?” James asked as he picked up the receiver.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work, dear. I’m just having a hard time dealing with Chase. He told me a few days ago that he didn’t care about the funeral arrangements, but now he’s criticizing all the choices I made, saying that I barely knew my own sister.” Milla sniffed. “That hurts my feelings, James. I tried so hard to keep in touch with her, to be a part of her life.”
“I know you did,” he assured her. “And I’m confident that Chase is giving you plenty of helpful opinions without offering to write a check. Am I right?”
“Yes.” Milla sighed. “Paulette’s already been cremated. That’s what she asked for in her will so I took care of it, but Chase wants to scatter her ashes off the mountain and I’d like to bury them in the churchyard. I know it’s selfish, James, but if she’s there I could go visit her. Talk to her.” Milla’s voice broke, but she quickly regained control and said, “Your father has been very gallant. Even though he still doesn’t like to go out in public, I had to stop him from running over to the hotel. He said he was going to teach that young man a thing or two about manners, but I’m afraid I volunteered you to state my case for me. I’m afraid Jackson’s temper might get the better of him.”
James wished he were at home so he could wrap Milla in a comforting embrace. “I’ll speak to Chase over my lunch hour, but if that punk is rude to you again, I’m going to let Pop at him!”
More stressed than before, James closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He had thirty minutes until he turned the library over to the care of the Fitzgerald twins, and he knew that the fruit salad and vegetable soup he had brought for his midday meal were not going to cut it. Visions of grabbing a double cheeseburger, large fries, and a chocolate shake seemed overwhelmingly appealing.
“You look like you’re thinking happy thoughts,” said a familiar female voice.
“Dr. Ruth!” James opened his eyes and glanced away guiltily. “Nice to see you.”
Gesturing at the corner of her mouth, the nutritionist grinned. “I think you have some cheese-puff residue on your chin.”
Ripping a tissue from the plastic holder next to the barcode scanner, James swiped at his mouth and chin. “You caught me, Dr. Ruth. Not only did I eat two bags of cheese puffs while hiding out in the men’s room, but just then, when I looked happy, I was fantasizing about having Burger King for lunch.”
“Oh?” Dr. Ruth placed a copy of Jodi Picoult’s latest release on the counter and waited for James to continue.
“It’s stress-related, I know that.” James scanned her book and tucked the small receipt listing the due date inside the front cover. “I also know that we’re not in your office right now, but can you give me a recommendation on how to stop myself from surrendering to cravings when I get like this?”
Dr. Ruth touched him on the sleeve. “Don’t worry, this happens to all of us. Stress eating is a big obstacle when we’re trying to maintain a balanced diet. But life throws us curves, James, and sometimes you just need a Happy Meal.”
James felt himself relaxing in Dr. Ruth’s calm presence. “Can’t I overcome how powerful my urges are?”
“Absolutely. First, you could come up with an alternative for dealing with stress. Exercise is a wonderful solution, a drive through the mountains, or settling down to a jigsaw puzzle or some kind of craft project.” She examined his face. “But if you get worked up here and can’t escape to a more peaceful place, then try chewing gum, or taking a quick walk outside, or calling a friend to vent. Try not to reach for food. Make that choice very deliberately.”
“That won’t be easy,” James mumbled.
“No, it won’t. But you’re aware of your behavior, James, and so you’ve already won half the battle.” Dr. Ruth smiled as James held out her library book. “And I’m glad we had a chance to speak because I wanted to tell you that your next appointment with me will be at no charge. A little bird told me that you had a lot to do with the number of new clients I’ve had since the holidays. I’m very grateful, Mr. Henry. Thank you.”
As Dr. Ruth walked away, James realized that he no longer craved a Burger King lunch. “I can face Chase Martin without a double cheeseburger!” he pronounced, and then marched into the break room to retrieve his low-calorie lunch.
Chase was seated in the hotel lobby with all the bored and haughty authority of a monarch awaiting a gesture of supplication from one of his subjects. Clenching his fists, James recalled Milla’s wounded voice on the phone and felt a strong desire to slap Paulette’s son on both cheeks until his demeanor was a bit more humble.
“I know why you’re here,” Chase said without preamble. “But my mother was not a religious person and she’d find it hypocritical to be buried in the churchyard.”
“I understand,” James answered, and he took a seat next to the irksome lawyer. “However, your mother is gone and Milla is here. It would be a comfort to her to visit Paulette’s gravesite. I’m asking you to find some compassion for your mother’s sister and grant her this request.” He spoke as pleasantly as possible, which was very difficult since he really wanted to grab Chase’s coffee cup and hurl its scalding contents into the man’s smug face.
Chase eased deeper into the chair and placed his right ankle on his left knee. Licking his finger, he rubbed at a faint scuff in the walnut-colored leather of his costly loafer. “Even Chloe agrees with my decision to release Mother at some pretty place. ’Course, my little sis wouldn’t care if I scattered the ashes in a landfill, but with the right incentive , she’ll back me on this issue.”
James couldn’t keep his feelings of distaste inside. “Did you bribe your aunt too?”
“No need,” Chase replied with a satisfied smirk. “She only came back to this hick town because Milla paid for the plane ticket. I suppose she’ll do her best to leech off your folks until she’s too infirm to go back to Natchez.”
How could I have ever believed this man had a single decent bone in his body? James thought back to their family dinner at Mamma Mia’s and how, when Chase was in a state of inebriation, he seemed almost likable.
“I’m sure the two sisters merely wish to spend time with each other. Aren’t you in a hurry to return to your own family?”
Chase snorted. “I can expect a big, fat check once my mother’s estate is settled, so I can now afford to pay the ridiculous alimony my wife’s demanding. The only thing I’m in a rush to do is divorce her, visit my spoiled, bratty daughters as little as possible, and spend a month in the Bahamas with that cute stewardess I met flying down here in December.”
James stood. “I can see there’s no reasoning with someone without a shred of empathy. Would you condescend to telling me where and when you plan on scattering the ashes? I’d like to accompany Milla to the… event.”
“Tomorrow morning. Early.” Chase inspected his fingernails. “After all, I’ve got places to be and things to buy. I found a nice little scenic spot in one of the hotel’s brochures on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Bluff Mountain Overlook. Eight a.m. You bring your gal and I’ll bring my charming relatives. You can inform that Willow creature about our little soirée as well. No one’s speaking. There’ll be no music. I’m walking to the edge of the cliff, opening the cardboard box that Mother’s in, and tossing her out to the four winds. After that, you’ll be rid of me for good.”