Harper continued, “She’s having a hard time with Lucille being gone.”
“Lucille doted on Mamaw,” Dora said. “And when Lucille got sick, Mamaw doted on her. I ’spect she’s lonelier than God right now.”
“She shouldn’t sit around all alone,” said Carson. “Maybe we can think of things to do with her. Get her out of the house.”
“We can go on a shopping trip to Charleston,” suggested Dora. “Then have tea at Charleston Place. Maybe a little champagne. Girl stuff. She’d like that.”
“We can play gin rummy with her, like Lucille did,” said Carson. “Mamaw loves to play cards.”
“I don’t know how to play gin rummy,” said Harper.
“It’s easy. I can teach you.” Carson’s voice quickened with excitement. “How about we all play cards together, like we used to in the summers when we were little? I loved that. What was the name of the game we played . . . ?”
“Canasta!” said Dora, her eyes gleaming.
“Yes, that’s it!” Carson said.
“I don’t remember how to play that, either,” said Harper. “Anyone know bridge?”
Carson shook her head. “It’s got to be canasta . . .”
“Or hearts. We played that, too,” Dora added with authority.
“Hold on,” Harper interjected. “Before we start playing, can we talk about working? We have to divvy up the chores.”
“Right.” Carson gave a military salute and smirked as she walked to the small desk. “Since when did you become the little general?” She rummaged through the drawers. “We can make a schedule, like I made for Nate in Florida.”
Dora called after her, “I don’t think we need drawings of stick figures, suns, and moons.”
“Ha-ha,” Carson quipped, returning to the table, hands filled with supplies. “Okay, I’ve got some paper, markers, pens.” She pulled out a chair and sat, spreading the materials in front of her with enthusiasm. “You two muddle about who does what. I’ll make the chart.”
Dora caught Harper’s eye and they smiled. It was amusing to see the freewheeling Carson get behind something as orderly and routine as a schedule.
“I’ll make coffee.” Harper headed to the sink with renewed purpose. “I’m no good making any decisions without my caffeine jolt.” Harper approached the sink hesitantly and plucked up the sponge with two fingers. She looked over her shoulder to see her sisters watching.
They burst out with renewed laughing.
“It’s not funny!” But this time Harper laughed as well.
“I’ll pass on the coffee,” said Carson, patting her abdomen. “Makes me nauseous.”
“Would you bring a cup up to Mamaw?” Harper asked. “I sent her to her room to get dressed. Poor thing was just lying about in her nightclothes.”
Carson’s face registered shock. “Really? Damn, she must be seriously out of sorts. Let’s do this.”
After Harper made coffee, Dora cleared the long wood table and wiped away the crumbs. Soon, steaming mugs were on the table, and a stack of raisin toast. The scent of coffee and cinnamon filled the air as the three women sat together and began making plans. First they created a formal schedule of chores to be done daily and those to be done weekly. Allocating the workload took a little more time as they argued about who did what chore best. Finally they set up a schedule for cooking meals and shopping. In the end, no one complained. Harper felt buoyed by the sisterly cooperation.
As they worked, they reminisced about the meals Lucille had prepared, the homespun advice she’d offered, and laughed at the shared anecdotes. Harper thought to herself how talking about Lucille kept her memory alive in their hearts and memories. When the schedule was finished, they posted it on the fridge with magnets and stood back to admire it.
“I don’t think there’s anything on that schedule that will help organize my life,” Carson said with a rueful grin. “But at least the house will be clean.”
“I hear you,” Harper added, and the two women clinked mugs.
“Speaking of schedules.” Dora carried her mug to the sink. “I hate to throw a wrench in our newly laid plans, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be on your work team.”
“Why not?” Carson swung her head around.
Dora set her coffee mug on the counter and took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve made some decisions.”
Her sisters sat staring at her silently with rapt attention.
“I’m not moving back to Summerville. I’ve decided to stay close by. Mt. Pleasant probably.”
“Nate will be happy,” Carson said. “He loves the water.”
“Nate’s the main reason I’m staying.”
“And Devlin . . . ,” added Carson mischievously.
Dora laughed in acknowledgment. “Him, too. But . . . the main reason is that I’ve found a school for Nate. It starts next week.”
The announcement was met with surprised silence.
Harper was delighted with the news but had to ask, “You’re not homeschooling anymore?”
Dora shook her head and turned to the sink. She squirted soap into it and turned on the hot water. Water gushed through the faucet as the sink filled.
“No. I’ve decided to send Nate to the Trident Academy. It’s a private school that has a wonderful program for children with Asperger’s syndrome.” Dora turned off the tap and turned to face her sisters. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s time for Nate to mingle with other children. And it’s time for me to get out more, too.” Dora picked up the sponge and studied it. “So I’ve begun looking for a place in Mt. Pleasant, and let me tell you, it’s hard to find a rental I can afford.”
“Aren’t you worried about all these changes for Nate? All at once?” asked Harper.
“Of course I am.” Dora’s face was troubled. “Leaving Sea Breeze, a place he loves, to move into a strange place will be tough for Nate. But on top of that, he’ll be starting a new school, a whole new program.” Dora turned back to the sink and began to wash dishes with vigor. “That’s why I need to get him settled in a permanent place as soon as possible. We all know how difficult transitions are for him.”