WHEN MOMMA AIN'T HAPPY

Maisy Turntrap was washing her hands as meticulously as she had massaged the giant shoulder roast she was preparing with her special dry rub. When her phone signaled there was a call, she quickly wiped her hands before crossing the small kitchen to see who it was. The Caller ID indicated it was her daughter .

"Hello. Janna?"

"Hi, Momma. I have a slight change in plans."

"Oh. Are you still coming?"

"Oh yes, I'll be there, and I'm bringing a friend."

"Well, that's fine, Dear. Who . . ."

"You'll see. Let it be a surprise. Be there soon!"

Maisy stared at the phone in her hand for a few extra seconds and then lay it back on the counter.

******

The doorbell rang promptly at six. Janna tended to be very punctual when there was the promise of one of her mother's Sunday dinners awaiting. She had grown up, so it would seem, in a Norman Rockwell painting, the dinner table always brimming with food, a picture perfect setting every time. Tonight was to be no exception. She was soon enveloped by the warm, succulent aromas emanating from the kitchen.

"It smells so good in here!"

Maisy let her husband of 32 years, Gill, answer the door. Hearing her daughter's voice, she wiped her hands yet again on her worn, though favorite, apron - a gift Janna had made for her when she'd learned how to sew in 4-H so many years before. She took a step toward the front foyer, but when there came a second voice she suddenly recognized, she snapped back, listening.

"Goodness me, sir, what an honor and downright pleasure it is to see y'all again!"

Oh, no. Lord Jesus, it just couldn't be. Maisy had no idea that Janna might be back in touch with that irresponsible lout. No wonder she hadn't told her mother who her companion was going to be over the phone. Maisy would have cancelled the dinner right then and there, and probably gone looking for the shotgun.

"Oh, Daddy, I just knew you and Momma wouldn't mind me bringing Chance by tonight. Can you believe, after all this time, we found each other again! We'll tell you and Momma all about it but we just wanted to surprise you."

"Well, now, it's fine by me, Honey." Gill Turntrap then glanced toward the kitchen, warily. "Your momma, on the other hand . . ."

At that, Maisy took a deep breath and slapped on a smile.

"Well, now, I thought I heard a voice I recognized. Janna . . . and Chance. Hello. Well, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" She turned a flash of an all too familiar "what are you doing" expression toward Janna, and then quickly returned her attention to the young man who by now was looking a little unsteady on his feet.

Chance McCaldry was Janna's high school sweetheart. He'd won Janna over completely in those days, mainly due to, surmised Maisy, he probably reminded Janna of one of her strays, the under-dogs (or cats, or rabbits, or birds, and once - most memorably and catastrophically - a skunk) that she could never turn away, lest her heart should break.

Now, the animals Maisy could abide - even Stinky, the skunk. Chance, she could not. It was not a matter of her wanting only the best for her daughter; she would be glad for someone of substance that Chance, clearly, was not. He had proven that time and time again. In her eyes he was slow, he was simple and not capable of providing for himself, much less a family.

And the final damning act that, to Maisy, exposed his total lack of honor and commitment, he'd broken off with Janna in their senior year of high school, claiming he was not cut out for college life and preferred to remain at home, help out on his family's farm, and that he would not hold Janna back from a better life than he would ever be able to give her.

The calamitous impact of this decision on the Turntrap family was distinct and lasting, though affected each member differently. Maisy was quick to judgment. Well, and didn't this just prove what she'd known all along. He'd taken advantage of their impressionable, loving little girl and was now ready to look elsewhere, not giving a thought to her feelings. Well, fine and good riddance.

Gill Turntrap was a man of few words. It made sense for him to let Maisy do most of the talking, since that was how it had been for as long as he could remember anyway. He was a hard-working man. He had held a job managing one of the most successful and well known cattle farms in the county. Besides, by the end of a long workday, he was content with a hot meal and mostly Maisy for entertainment. He had yet to find her "off" button, if she had one, so he would patiently wait for her to start clearing the dishes following another one of her wonderful dinners, to retire to his "office" where he kept his books, his desk that once belonged to his own father, and a bottle of Jim Beam he kept in the right bottom drawer for select occasions. He was, indeed, a very content man.

He adored his only daughter. He would, each morning, quietly crack open her bedroom door to have a look at her, sleeping peacefully, before he left for work. He'd only missed a few milestones of her life because of work-related emergencies. The annual calving time for a farmer was akin to tax time for an accountant, but he treasured each memory he had of Janna along the way and held them close to his heart, right next to Maisy's meals.

When Janna announced to them that Chance had decided they should break up, Gill was not altogether surprised. He knew Chance's father was struggling to keep his land profitable. He recognized in the simple, modest boy a good heart. He was good to his younger brothers and looked out for them. Gill decided that the best thing for him to do, as her father, was to look out for Janna. This type of situation would need to play itself out.

Janna, of course, was devastated at first. Gradually, she came to see that what Chance had done had been a selfless act, a sacrifice he was willing to make so that his family wouldn't suffer by his absence, and she wouldn't suffer by his remaining home and asking her to give up her dream of attending college.

And so, in the long run, it made her love and admire him even more, and though in time her heart did heal, she'd always keep a small piece of him there. He was the gauge by which she measured every boyfriend she had after that, and she largely remained unattached throughout most of the four years she spent away at college, and then the additional four she spent in grad school, studying to become a veterinarian.

She found she needed all the energy she had to devote to her studies, and that left little spare time for dating. When her graduation came, Gill was there. He would not have missed this tremendous milestone in his daughter's life for anything in the world. Janna joked with him that if graduation had taken place during the calf-birthing season, she would have arranged her own ceremony to take place in the barn with all the moaning mommas and bleating babies in place of the Graduation March. She had lived her dream. Now it was time for her real life to begin, and she was ready.

Maisy was so proud of her hard working family. Her greatest gift and contribution was cooking. She poured her heart and soul into the dishes she prepared and served to those she loved. She came from a long line of ladies who knew how to satisfy a working man's appetite, as well as their need for strength, good health and endurance. She was somewhat surprised to hear Janna was coming back to work as a veterinarian's assistant in one of their neighboring towns, but she was also thrilled to have her daughter nearby. Maybe eight years had been enough time spent at a big city university and she'd come to appreciate the strong traditions and simple ways of her upbringing.

But now, here Janna was, back in the arms of her betrayer. He had somehow wormed his way back into their lives and Maisy wasn't having it. She didn't have a plan yet, but she'd have to come up with something. Her first and immediate task was to survive this dinner, to break bread with the man who had ruined her daughter's life once and was sure to do it again. To think he was about to devour and undoubtedly have the unmitigated gall to enjoy and gush over her love-infused table full of beautiful food that had never been intended for him to even look at, much less . . .

"Golly, Ms. Maisy, I don't believe I'm overstating things to say I have never forgotten what a great cook you are and those meals you used to serve us kids. The smell of this place just brings it all back!"

Chance bounced forward, grabbed Maisy by the shoulders and gave her a loud smack on the cheek. She backed up, quickly giving Chance an awkward smile. then, in a shaky voice while gesturing to the dining room, managed, "Why don't we all sit down."

******

Maisy had never felt so alienated at her own table. Chance, that interloping cad, had brought wine, a bottle of wine! Gill was drinking some! This wasn't Christmas! When she had declined a pour, Janna actually giggled and said, "More for us then!" Everyone, except Maisy, had laughed. Just what had Maisy missed? Since when had her family turned alcoholic? She began to say something about it to Gill, her expression already speaking volumes, but Gill's expression managed to trump hers, and he raised the bar by squeezing her hand under the table. For the first time she could remember, she was at a loss for words and spent the remainder of the meal feeling cowed and alone.

Later that evening, as she was washing a sink-full, Gill came up behind her and gently spoke in her ear. "You all right?" She hesitated and then resumed her scrubbing and wiping. Gill found a dishtowel and took a wet plate from her hand. "You feel like talking?" What Maisy had witnessed at the dinner table had already convinced her she was outnumber on this, whatever "this" was. She knew if she confided to Gill what was truly on her mind at that moment, he'd try to talk her out of it and it would just be a colossal waste of time.

"Oh, there's nothing to talk about, Gill. I just want to see our Janna happy."

"That's what we all want. Always have."

Gill could see that Maisy had more on her mind but, when she did not respond right then, he decided to leave it there. He patted her sudsy hand, smiling warmly before taking his leave to join his books. He wouldn't be opening the desk drawer tonight. He was plenty warm enough.

Maisy stared out the kitchen window at the clear, star-filled sky and lost herself in thought.

By the time she had flicked off the bathroom light and climbed into bed, she had a plan.

******

The college football championship was scheduled for 1:00. The kids were due to arrive any minute. Gill had been called to work for a sudden emergency. Some of the cows he was responsible for had broken free of the electric gate and were now making a buffet out of the owner's vegetable garden. And so, Gill had his hands full and would get back as soon as he could.

When the doorbell rang, Maisy held her breath for a second, looked around at all she had accomplished. She had stayed up half the night preparing. She wiped her hands on her apron with a knowing smile and approached the front door with determination in her step.

She opened the door and backed away to let the grinning couple enter the foyer. Janna hugged Maisy. "Oh Momma, it smells better than ever!" Chance then took his turn and wrapped his long arms around Maisy and exclaimed, "Ms. Maisy, looks like you've been at it again. I hardly feel worthy."

Maisy held her own grin a little too long before saying, "So glad you're here. Give me your coats, go get comfortable in the playroom. The game's about to start."

The playroom was the only room in the house with a television. It had a couch with chairs on either side. The smaller coffee table had been replaced with a larger, round game table that was laden with plates of food. There were bowls of homemade pita chips with various dips. There were mounds of chicken wings, plates of cheese, platters of homemade bread, still warm, with giant tubs of assorted butters.

"Wow. Who else is coming?" Janna looked at Maisy with mild astonishment. "Who's going to eat all this?"

"I'll start!" Chance couldn't take his eyes off the table. Saying a quick grace, he turned a happy face to mother and daughter and then gave his full attention to the incredible display before him.

"Don't forget, there's more where that came from!" Maisy gestured for Janna to sit.

"Let me get us some drinks first. Be right back."

Chance was busy designing the perfect plate of football food. He never even looked up.

"Momma, what's going on?"

They were back in the kitchen where Maisy had pitchers of iced tea and lemonade and tall frosted glasses at the ready.

"How do you mean?"

"I know you, you know. I've known you my entire life. You don't exert this kind of energy on a meal unless it's a holiday or a really big event. Your meals are always exceptional, Momma, but this is way beyond. What are you up to? Is it just going to be the four of us?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I haven't really been fair to Chance, I know that. This, I suppose, might be looked at as an apology of sorts. Humor me?"

Janna stared at her mother, narrowed her eyes and, as a suspicious and equally playful grin crossed her lips, leaned forward and gave Maisy a peck on the cheek. She whispered.

"Just know I'm keeping my eye on you."

Maisy fluttered her eyelashes at her daughter, then turned to check on something in the oven.

******

"Come and get it!"

Chance was first to the dining room. It was set up in grand buffet style. Here was everything Chance enjoyed, laid out as if for royalty. There was a platter of ham steaks, chicken thighs, turkey legs, shaved beef for sandwiches, more homemade bread and biscuits, waffles and cheesy grits. There were bowls heaped with mashed potatoes and sausage gravy, ears of buttered corn, candied yams, green bean casserole. And, of course, macaroni and cheese, baked beans and collard greens.

"Ms. Maisy, I am speechless!"

Maisy smiled warmly. "Here, take a plate and help yourself."

As Chance and Janna took inventory of the table before them, Gill came through the door, looking tired. He gaped at the mountain of food on the table and then at Maisy. He guided her quietly to the side and whispered.

"Just what are you up to?"

"And what makes you think that I'm up to anything?"

Gill gave Maisy a look she knew meant give it up, you have nowhere to hide.

She smiled. "I decided to try to be nice, that's all."

"You could kill him with this amount of . . ."

Gill looked at his wife.

"So, that's it. You're going to kill that poor boy with kindness!"

"Now, Gill, stop it. No one's ever . . . "

"Arrrrrgh!"

They were interrupted by an agonizing groan that was then followed by a loud crash and thud as Chance, along with his plate of food, fell to the floor.

"Chance!"

******

Maisy and Gill sat in the waiting room, staring into space. Gill was looking straight ahead with a blank expression. Maisy was deep in her own thoughts, drowning in speculation. What have I done?

Just then, Janna rushed over to them from the direction of Chance's hospital room.

She was breathless.

"You'll never guess! His appendix burst! He's in surgery now, but he should recover just fine. The doctor said we got him here just in time."

She flopped heavily into the chair next to her mother.

"What I really wanted to say was he had food poisoning."

"Janna, that's not funny." Maisy was close to tears.

"Well, so have you suffered enough?"

"Can you both forgive me?"

Gill was stifling a bit of laughter. "Honey, had that boy not known when to to say when to his own detriment, I might have had to admit you were right about him."

"Well, I'm just glad now I'm not. Right about him, I mean."

Janna looked at her mother.

"And so what finally convinced you?"

Maisy sighed.

"The expression on your face when that boy collapsed. I never want to see you look that way again."

"You mean that was all it took?"

Maisy was laughing and crying and then laughing again. It felt wonderful. She got up suddenly and began to leave.

Her husband said, "Where are you going?"

"Home. I need to prepare something special for Chance. He'll be hungry when he wakes up."

"But, Momma . . ."

Gill watched Maisy again turn to leave, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.

"Let her go, Honey. Let her go."

THE END

Susan Erickson Catucci

September 7, 2022