The Mother's Day Crown Read online

  The Mother's Day Crown

  CAROLYN BROWN

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Compilation copyright © 2022 by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  The Mother’s Day Crown © 2022 by Carolyn Brown

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5421-4 (ebook)

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-5421-4(ebook)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Mother’s Day Crown

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  The Mother’s Day Crown

  CAROLYN BROWN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I feel as free as a bird.” Dotty held up a hand to high-five her best friend, Winnie.

  The crack when they slapped hands could be heard all up and down the halls of the Pecan Valley Retirement Center. A smile deepened the wrinkles around Dotty’s mouth and bright blue eyes. “It’s liberating, not to think about mowing the lawn and making sure the plants are watered this summer, ain’t it? But I thought Monica was going to cry when I handed her the keys and the paperwork.”

  “She’ll settle into the change, and didn’t I tell you how good it would feel to be free of all that stuff?” Winnie eased down on the brown and orange plaid sofa. “It’s like making peace with the fact that we’re both happy as baby piglets in a fresh mudhole right here in this retirement home. We should’ve done this five years ago. You are welcome.”

  “For what?” Dotty asked.

  “Putting our names on the list to live here,” Winnie answered.

  “I suppose you’re going to lord it over me like you do that trophy for the best afghan, aren’t you?” Dotty sighed.

  “Yep, I am,” Winnie said, nodding. “If you’d have agreed to come with me, you wouldn’t have had to wait three months for an apartment, but oh, no, you weren’t leaving your home. They gave your place to someone else, and you had to be lonely for all those weeks. So, you are welcome for me putting both our names on the list, and for me begging the supervisor here to put your name back at the top when this place came open. If it hadn’t been for that, you wouldn’t live here, and you wouldn’t even have a chance to be Mother of the Year.”

  “I want that Mother’s Day crown so bad.” Dotty sat down in the recliner she’d brought from her house three months ago and hit the button on the side to raise the footrest. “I’m going to wear the fancy blue dress that I bought for Monica’s wedding at the Mother’s Day party. Promise me you’ll take a picture of Gladys’s face when they put the crown on me.” She reached up with both hands and set an imaginary crown on her thick, curly hair.

  “Pshh!” Winnie cut her brown eyes over at Dotty. “I told you not to buy that dress. The way your granddaughter is dragging her feet when it comes to commitment, that dress will be old, faded, and out of date by the time she gets around to walkin’ down the aisle. She might even end up being an old maid, and you’ll never have them great-grandkids you want so bad.”

  Dotty shook a bony finger at Winnie. “You can blame your grandson for the way my granddaughter shies away from relationships. Tyler broke her heart, and she’s never gotten over it.”

  “Hmmph,” Winnie snorted. “That was ten years ago. She needs to grow up, and you’re not going to need to wear that dress anyway, because I’m going to win the crown. I was here a week before you finally made up your mind to join me, so I’m the senior resident of the two of us, and besides, I’m prettier and nicer than you.”

  “You are not,” Dotty argued. “And them combs that hold the crown on need someone with enough hair to keep the thing from fallin’ off. You ain’t got enough hair left to even hold the dang thing in place.”

  “I’ll superglue it to my head and sleep in it if I win,” Winnie told her, “and I’m wearing the pink dress that I wore on Easter. Your blue dress is way too fancy for the Mother’s Day party. Didn’t you see the pictures on the bulletin board in the dining room? The women were all dressed semi-casual, kind of like they were fixin’ to go to Sunday school.”

  “Then I’ll bring some class to the party,” Dotty said, “and I’m going to get more votes than you do.”

  “Like you did when I won the blue ribbon at the fair for my afghan.” Winnie shot a dirty look at her best friend.

  “It’s my turn to win, since you got the prize for the best afghan,” Dotty argued.

  “You goin’ to stuff the ballot box,” Winnie countered.

  “Every resident only gets one vote—period,” Dotty reminded her. “I’ll vote for you if you vote for me. That way, maybe we can beat out Gladys with our joined forces. She’s got five crowns lined up on the shelf in her room, already.”

  “She’s been here ten years, so everyone knows her, and they say she’s”—Winnie’s voice went an octave higher—“ ‘just the sweetest thing ever,’ or something like that. I’m going to prove that I’m just as lovable as she is.”

  “I’ll just sit back and watch y’all try to outdo me.” Dotty narrowed her eyes and thought about ways to garner more votes. “We could get Monica and Tyler to vote every time they come to see us, because visitors get a vote a day.”

  “Great idea.” Winnie nodded. “But remember, the staff gets two votes each a day. Gladys has a bowl of hard candy in her apartment that she offers the nurses and aides, and even the cleaning staff, when they come in to see her.”

  “Is there anything in the rules that say we can’t bribe votes with candy and food?” Dotty asked.

  “Not that I ever read in the booklet they gave me when I checked into this place, and Gladys can have her old hard candy.” Winnie giggled. “I’ve got one of them two-pound bags of miniature candy bars in my room. I bet the folks like chocolate better than peppermints.”

  Dotty shot a dirty look toward Winnie. Some best friend she was.

  “What’s that for?” Winnie asked.

  “You didn’t tell me that you had candy bars,” Dotty answered. “I’m going to call Monica and tell her to bring mini-cupcakes tomorrow.”

  “I’m not stupid. You’ve always been competitive, so I got a head start on you,” Winnie declared. “I even give the cleaning folks chocolate, ’cause they get two votes a day, too, just like the doctors and nurses. And since my grandson Tyler is the resident PA here at the center, he can vote three times a day. I’m going back across the hall to my place. Come on over, and we’ll watch our soap opera after lunch.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? That way, if anyone comes in, you can give them a candy bar, and they’ll vote for you. I’ll just watch our soap at my place until after Mother’s Day, thank you very much.” Dotty had no doubt that she would miss Winnie. They’d watched their program together for the past twenty years. But the game was on, and Dotty had her heart set on that crown, which was way prettier than the blue ribbon and trophy Winnie got for her afghan.

  “You aren’t nice even to me, and I’m your best friend, so I don’t think you’ll need to wear that blue dress.” Winnie got up slowly and left the room.

  Dotty pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Monica.

  “Hello, Nana,” her granddaughter answered. “Is everything all right? Have you changed your mind?”

  “Hell, no!” Dotty said. “I’m at peace with my decision. Where are you right now?”

  “At the grocery store, buying supplies for a couple of weeks,” Monica answered. “Do you need something?”

  “Yep, I want a dozen of those miniature cupcakes brought to me every day for the next two weeks. You can bring the first dozen tomorrow, and if they don’t have nice ones there, then you can make some for me. There’s a mini-cupcake pan in the cabinet to the right of the stove,” Dotty answered. “I’m going to win that Mother’s Day crown just to prove to Winnie that I’m nicer than she is.”

  “Good grief!” Monica sighed. “Are you two competing, again?”

  “Yes, we are,” Dotty answered, “and this time, I’m going to win. I intend to wear that crown on Mother’s Day here at Pecan Valley and get my picture on the bulletin board in the lobby. That way, she can’t hold that trophy she got for her afghan at the county fair over my head
any longer.”

  “Nana, you two have been best friends for most of your lives,” Monica reminded her. “Why can’t you stop this competition?”

  “Because we have so much fun, and it makes things exciting. I won five bucks last week when I bet her that Gladys and Harry were in a relationship,” Dotty bragged.

  Monica gasped. “Nana! Those two old people have to be at least ninety.”

  “Both of them are eighty years old,” Dotty corrected her. “They’re the same age me and Winnie are. They ain’t lived a righteous life like me and Winnie, so God aged them worse than He did us.”

  “Are you jealous? Do you have a little crush on Harry? And with all this arguing you and Winnie do, how can you say you’re closer to God than Gladys?” Monica teased.

  “Hell, no!” Dotty’s voice went up to the screeching she made when she saw a mouse dart across the floor. “I’m not jealous, and me and Winnie is like sisters. We argue and bicker, but God help anyone who tries to get between us. We’ll join forces and take them down. And honey, I’m not falling in love, and if I did, it would be with a guy who doesn’t need a walker, and who has his own teeth. I’d need a little more from a man if I was going to let him bounce my bed springs.”

  “Nana!” Monica gasped again. “What has got over you? You and Winnie cleaned the church and never missed a Sunday. I’ve never heard you talk about sex or what goes on in the bedroom.”

  Dotty laughed so hard that she snorted. “Honey”—she wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve—“you should’ve been a fly on the wall and listened to some of those conversations while we were cleaning the church. It’s a wonder lightning bolts didn’t come out of the sky, shoot through the rafters, and turn us both into a pile of ashes right there between the pews. I’ve got to go now. My game show is coming on television. Don’t forget to bring those cupcakes.”

  “Will do,” Monica said. “See you in the morning.”

  “Bye now.” Dotty ended the call, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.

  * * *

  “She’s still alive and just as sassy as ever,” Monica said, sighing as she parked her car in the driveway of her Nana’s house between Bells and Luella, Texas. “Then why does this feel so final?”

  She didn’t have an answer, so she slung open the car door and marched across the yard. The roses were in desperate need of some tender loving care. There were cat prints in the dust on the porch, and next week, she would have to either mow the lawn or pay someone to do it for her. If Nana had been there, the roses would have looked like they were ready to be photographed for a magazine, and the porch would have been shiny clean.

  She fished around in her purse for the key ring her grandmother had given her when she went by the assisted living center located in Bells that morning. Just having the keys in her hand meant that Nana had decided to “try” the facility with her friend Winnie, and she wasn’t coming back home. Nana was going to stay at the Pecan Valley Retirement Center for the rest of her days.

  Tears flowed down Monica’s cheeks and dripped onto her T-shirt. Change was one of the few things she hated, and inheriting Nana’s house and what was left in it would be a huge change in Monica’s world. She opened the old wooden screen door, and memories of all the times she had slammed that door flashed through her mind.

  Monica Joanne, how many times have I told you not to slam the door? Nana’s voice was clear in her head.

  “But, Nana, we didn’t have a door like this at our house, and it’s so much fun to slam it and then see if I can jump off the porch before I hear the noise.” More tears dammed up behind her eyes as she looked down at the keys. The whole place now belonged to her—kit and kaboodle, as Nana had said. She’d be responsible for keeping the lawn, taking care of the roses, and making sure to wash the cat prints off the front porch. THE BEST GRANDMA IN THE WORLD fob on the key ring was telling the absolute truth. Dorothy Allen, aka Dotty or Nana, was the best and always would be, but Monica didn’t think she should be in an assisted living center, even if she was eighty years old.

  “Hey! Are you going to live here or rent the place out?” Tyler Magee yelled from the other side of the picket yard fence.

  “That would be none of your business,” Monica said through clenched teeth. Winnie had deeded her place over to Tyler, and Monica had prayed the whole way from Sherman to Luella that he had already sold it and moved to Siberia or maybe somewhere in the middle of Africa.

  “I heard that Dotty gave you her house this morning?” Tyler pressured. “I’ve been sorting through things that Granny left behind and haven’t even made a dent. I’ve been going through stuff over here a little at a time. I couldn’t decide whether to rent the place out or live here, but this past week, I made up my mind to move in. They won’t let me have pets in the house I’m renting, and I promised to take care of Granny’s cat, so . . .” He shrugged. “Besides, I like the peace and quiet out here in the country.”

  Evidently, God had better things to do today than listen to her prayers, or maybe He felt kind of sorry for Siberia and Africa and didn’t want to inflict a two-timing—she blushed at the name she was about to call him—on either place.

  “So do I,” Monica said as she unlocked the door and disappeared into the house. She stopped inside the door and took a deep breath. The scent of lavender, Nana’s favorite fragrance, still lingered. The living room looked empty now that the outdated orange and brown plaid sofa and Nana’s recliner were gone. The only piece of furniture left in the room was an old, wooden rocker with wide arms. Monica slumped down into it and sighed. “Why, Lord, would you do this to me?”

  Don’t be blamin’ God for Tyler and Raylene Carter’s mistakes, scolded Nana’s voice in her head.

  “But God could have struck Raylene’s conscience,” she grumbled, “or maybe set just a little fire under her butt to let her know where she was headed if she did something so mean.”

  She glanced around at the bare walls. Light spots and lots and lots of nail holes dotted them where Nana had taken pictures down. Monica hated to paint, but before she moved in, she would have to either do it herself or hire it done, and she was way too tight with her money to pay someone to do what she was capable of doing herself.

  She pushed up out of the rocking chair and went to the kitchen. She ran her hand over the yellow-topped chrome table with its four matching chairs. One of her earliest memories was sitting on a big thick phone book on one of those chairs. The first decision she made that morning was to leave the antique set right where it was. The second was to move out of her apartment in Denison and into this house.

  * * *

  Tyler knew that he should be in the house figuring out what to donate to the women’s shelter in Sherman and what to keep, but after seeing Monica, he needed a moment. He sat down on the porch swing and let his mind wander back to the biggest mistake he had ever made in his entire life.

  That would have been ten years ago, when he let Raylene Carter talk him into going into Nana Allen’s garage with her during their early graduation party. That started a mess that was like a small snowball rolling down a hill. By the time it got to the bottom, it was as big as a boulder.

  Raylene backed him up against the wall and kissed him with lots and lots of tongue. He didn’t even realize that she was unbuttoning his shirt until she pulled it over his shoulders. She had his belt undone, his pants unzipped, and her hand inside his underwear when Monica flipped on the light.

  “Busted!” Raylene giggled.

  Monica’s face turned scarlet. Tears sprang from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Then she simply flipped the light back off and closed the door.

  “I guess that means you’re needing a date to the prom now.” Raylene removed her hand. “Pick me up at six. I’m wearing red, and I don’t like roses, so get me a white orchid for my corsage.”

  He had tried to talk to Monica, but she wouldn’t even speak to him, and being the stupid young guy he was at that time, he had taken Raylene to the prom. He had been miserable all night, especially when he found out that Raylene had deliberately caused the problem because Monica had beat her out for the valedictorian honor.