Fit To Be Tied

by Elizabeth Craig

“How is Piper doing?” June Bug asked. Her expression always made her look a little anxious.

  “She’s doing great! She and the baby both are, according to the doctor visit we had yesterday. Oh, and be sure to thank Katie for me again for her sweet gift for the baby. That stuffed cat is absolutely adorable with her little bow-tie and those big eyes. I know the baby is going to love her.”

  June Bug smiled shyly at her. “She called her Tilly, but wanted the baby to name her however she wanted. Because Tilly was so special, she wanted her to be loved by another child.”

  “That’s so sweet of her. How is Katie doing? We didn’t have time to catch up much at the baby shower,” said Beatrice.

  June Bug proudly found a piece of paper that was in a small stack behind the counter and showed it to her.

  “All As on her report card!” said Beatrice. “You must be so proud. I know you’ve been working hard with her.”

  June Bug had told her all about helping Katie with her spelling words and math. When Katie had moved, she’d been a little behind her grade at the new school. Clearly now she’d caught up—and then some.

  “She’s been working hard, too,” said June Bug with a happy twinkle in her eyes. “And now she has new friends and can play just as hard as she works.” She nodded to the small office. “She’s already getting ahead today on schoolwork. I bring her here with me in the mornings, of course . . . we both have to get up really early. She likes to do her reading now when it’s so quiet.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear. Tell her that I said congratulations on the great report card. Although I know you’re a great example of hard work—it looks like you’ve already finished your baking for today,” said Beatrice.

  June Bug nodded and showed Beatrice what she’d been working on. It wasn’t easy for Beatrice to choose. There were buttermilk biscuits, banana bread, quiches, scones, cinnamon buns, and muffins.

  “You’re making it very hard on me today,” said Beatrice with a grin.

  June Bug looked pleased.

  Since Beatrice couldn’t really decide, she asked for two different plates with a variety of breads on them. That way, June Bug could choose.

  A few minutes later, June Bug carefully put the plates into plastic bags for Beatrice to carry back home and gave her a cheerful goodbye as the bakery phone rang with an order

  When Beatrice got back home, she held one of the bags up to show Wyatt. “We have a feast!”

  He grinned at her. “That’s perfect. I didn’t really feel like cereal this morning since I’ve been eating cereal for supper some nights.”

  “Well, we have lots to choose from. And I got a plate of goodies for Laura, too, of course. June Bug had so many pastries out that I had a tough time making up my mind.”

  After they ate and drank some more coffee, Wyatt left to go to the office to get some things done before heading over to the Carpenter house. After he left, there was a loud knock at the door which set Noo-noo to barking excitedly. Beatrice smiled to herself. Meadow had clearly arrived.

  Meadow bustled in. “Good morning! I had to see your kitchen disaster for myself. I was so distracted yesterday that it was the last thing on my mind.” She peered over and made a face. “You’ve been living like this for a while. How are the two of you surviving?”

  Beatrice laughed. “Pretty well because we’ve been eating out or bringing food in. This morning we had a variety of baked goods from June Bug’s.”

  Meadow snorted. “Then you’ve been eating better than we have. I’ve been so busy with the baby stuff that poor Ramsay acts as though I’ve been starving him. He’s pitiful! Keeps asking when I’ll go back to making my famous big breakfasts. He’s been eating grocery store bagels for the last couple of weeks because I just don’t have it in me to cook in the mornings.”

  “What have you been doing for the baby?” asked Beatrice curiously.

  “Whatever Ash tells me still needs to be done,” said Meadow. “Although sometimes he’s not the most reliable person to ask, so I’ve asked Piper.”

  Beatrice made a face. “And I thought I was helping out. I didn’t realize there was so much to still be done. The way that Piper has talked about it, I thought they had everything in hand.”

  Meadow gestured toward her car and Beatrice grabbed the platter of food and stepped outside. Meadow said, “They do. I think they’re having to find things for me to do because otherwise I drive them crazy checking on Piper. They’ve had me help put a wallpaper border up, make a changing pad for the changing table, hang some open bins for storage on the walls. At this point, they’re probably wringing their hands trying to think of other things to keep me busy. It may have gotten to the point where Ash has me doing their yardwork.”

  They got into the car and Beatrice said dryly, “I’m sure if you were to ask Wyatt, that there are any number of things that you could volunteer for at the church to kill time.”

  Meadow started up the car. “By golly, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking about volunteering because it’s such a short period of time until the baby comes—and then I really will have lots to do. But the church probably has short-term volunteering opportunities?”

  Beatrice clutched the platter as Meadow lurched out of the driveway and swung onto the road. “Let’s just say that any time you wanted to head over there and babysit in any nursery for a service or for a yoga class or any number of nurseries that you wouldn’t be turned down.”

  “Good point,” said Meadow thoughtfully. “So I could volunteer in the infant nursery, for instance? I probably could stand to brush up on my baby skills. It’s been a long time since I last cared for a baby.”

  Unfortunately, Meadow was now putting a lot more thought into volunteering in the church nursery than she was in driving the vehicle.

  “Look out!” said Beatrice—pointing ahead at an old Lincoln, driving mostly in their lane, careening toward them.

  Meadow swerved off the side of the road and came to a stop. They saw Miss Sissy shaking her arthritic fist at them as she drove off.

  Meadow said faintly, “Oops.” And then, with more certainty, “Miss Sissy is a danger to the roadways. Someone should take her keys away from her.”

  Beatrice took a deep breath and looked at Meadow through narrowed eyes. Perhaps someone should start thinking about taking the keys away from Meadow.

  Meadow put the car in motion again, this time driving a bit more sedately and with more focus.

  Fortunately, after the curve was Gerald’s house. It was a rambling brick home with ivy scaling the outside walls and the home was located on top of a steep hill. The yard was carefully maintained with bushes clipped perfectly and a bed of roses on the side of the house.

  Meadow said, “They must have some fantastic mountain views from the back.”

  Beatrice said, “I’ve never actually been here. And, in fact, Wyatt mentioned earlier that it would be his first visit out to their house.”

  “Really? I’d have thought he’d been out here, considering all the church-related work he does with Gerald,” said Meadow as they got out of the car and started walking down the driveway to the front door.

  Chapter Nine

  “WYATT SAID THAT GERALD always wanted to meet at the office,” said Beatrice. “And very early. Apparently, Gerald was a man who liked to follow strict routines. He’d get any church-related or personal-related business out of the way first, before he started in on work.”

  Meadow rang the doorbell and the door was immediately answered by Laura Carpenter. She was a tall, slender woman in her 50s (a good deal younger than Gerald). Although her eyes were sad, there was a surprising lack of expression in her face. A moment later, Beatrice realized that Laura had likely had some work done—Botox can have the effect of not just minimizing wrinkles, but minimizing emotions, too.

  Laura pulled both of them toward her for a hug. “Aren’t you both so sweet? I’m lucky to have folks who care about us. I know that Gerald would be very touched.” As she said Gera
ld’s name, she pulled out a tissue to dab at her perfectly-made-up eyes.

  Meadow said, “Well of course we wanted to come by! We have breakfast and supper for you. And if y’all eat this platter full of June Bug’s delicacies, I’m sure you won’t have any appetite for lunch at all. So you should be set for the day. Which way is the kitchen and I’ll put the chicken away?”

  “You’re a dear,” said Laura. “It’s just through the archway there and will be the third door on your left.”

  Beatrice asked as Meadow obediently trotted off to the kitchen, “Would you like me to leave the platter somewhere more accessible, in case you’d like to snack from it soon?”

  Laura beamed at her, white teeth glinting. “That would be lovely. I didn’t eat at all yesterday . . . food didn’t appeal to me one whit after such a shock. But now it’s all catching up with me. As soon as you two leave, I’ll probably pig out.” She gave her lightly tittering laugh.

  Meadow returned in time to hear Laura. “Now don’t you worry about us! Go ahead and eat to your heart’s content. Sometimes, when life is miserable, eating is one of the few pleasures.”

  Laura said, “You’ve got that right! I might have to just have a muffin. Can I offer either one of you one?”

  Beatrice wryly patted her stomach. “I’ve already had more than my fair share this morning. I picked some up for Wyatt and me at the same time I was picking some up for you.”

  Laura stepped to the side and said, “Do come sit down, both of you.” They walked into a lovely living room full of white upholstered furniture and white marbled-topped tables. Beatrice hoped that she wasn’t dusty. It seemed that the more construction was done in her house, the dustier things got. And it was a sneaky sort of dust—the kind that you didn’t see until it showed up on your clothing later. Or on someone’s white furniture.

  Laura sank down on a white silk settee and Beatrice offered her the platter before setting it down on a marble-topped coffee table. The room was beautiful, but seemed somehow sterile to Beatrice and she wondered if it had been decorated by Gerald or Laura. There were no family pictures up nor any art at all. She knew art wasn’t to everyone’s decorating taste, but the former art curator in her always missed it when it wasn’t there. To her, it offered a lot of insight into the people who lived there.

  Somehow, Laura managed to delicately eat a muffin without leaving any crumbs at all on the white furniture. She said, after carefully swallowing a small bite, “Beatrice, I heard that you were at the factory yesterday morning after Wyatt found Gerald. I’m sure that must have been such a shock for him.”

  Beatrice said, “He was very sorry about your loss. He had a lot of respect for Gerald. I drove over to meet up with Wyatt as soon as he told me what had happened.”

  Laura looked sadly down at the last bite of her muffin. “And I was asleep the whole time! I feel rather guilty about that. I hadn’t been sleeping very well over the last week and I suppose it just caught up with me all at once. I didn’t even wake up when Gerald got up to get ready to walk over to the office and usually I never sleep during that. I feel terrible that I wasn’t with him.”

  Meadow said, “Now, Laura, you know that you shouldn’t feel guilty in the slightest! Gerald certainly wouldn’t have wanted you there with him. There was a dangerous person in the building—who knows what could have happened? He would have wanted you safe in your bed, exactly where you were.”

  Laura sighed. “Yes, you’re right. It was just bad timing, that’s all. Although not out of the ordinary for me to have insomnia. I haven’t slept very well for my entire life. It’s ironic that the one night I’m finally able to catch up on my rest and sleep in a little is the time when Gerald needed me the most. Meadow, I’m sure Ramsay must have told you how he rang the bell and rang the bell. I didn’t even hear it until he’d probably rung ten times. I think he must have been about to give up.”

  Meadow shook her head. “He told me no such thing. Don’t you worry your head about this. All Ramsay thinks is that you are a hard sleeper. Our son Ash is the same exact way. Why, I’ve always said that when he was a child that Ramsay and I could jump on his bed like a trampoline if we’d wanted and he wouldn’t have even stirred.”

  Beatrice said wryly, “Although hopefully that will change soon.”

  Laura gave her that beaming smile again, “That’s right! With the new baby. With any luck, when the little one cries, Ash won’t sleep through it every night or else Piper will be exhausted.” She turned again to Meadow. “And thank you for making me feel better. I think it was those guilty feelings about not being there for Gerald that killed my appetite yesterday.”

  Meadow said, “You need to be tempted by more baked goods, that’s all. Goodness knows that the platter Beatrice brought is fairly groaning with them.”

  Laura obediently picked up a buttermilk biscuit.

  Meadow raised a hand. “Now hold on. You can’t compromise when eating one of June Bug’s biscuits—you need to go all the way with it. I’ll run it to the kitchen and heat it up and put a little butter on it.”

  Laura handed her the biscuit in a napkin and Meadow hurried off with it.

  Laura shook her head with a smile. “She’s very kind. Both of you are. To tell you the truth, I can hardly believe that Gerald is gone. It feels more like he’s just over at the office, working hard, as usual.”

  “When you’re married a long time and you lose someone, it’s hard for the reality of it to hit you,” said Beatrice. Laura looked at her curiously and Beatrice continued, “I lost my first husband, Piper’s father, when Piper was a teenager. It was a rough time for both of us.”

  Laura said, “Oh, I’m so sorry. It really must have been. And you’re absolutely right—Gerald and I have had a wonderful marriage. Of course, it was a second marriage for both of us, but it’s been a fairly long one. We loved each other. More than that, we depended on each other since he and I sort of balanced each other out.”

  “That’s wonderful. That’s ideally what marriage should be like, isn’t it?” asked Beatrice. Laura either must not be aware of Gerald’s infidelities, or else she was a marvelous actress.

  “It is,” said Laura with a decisive nod. “He was all work, very serious. And I tried to inject some levity into our lives. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, but it worked. Now, with Wyatt’s help, I want to plan a funeral service for Gerald that really celebrates his life. I want it all—a horn section, a full choir, the works.”

  Beatrice smiled at her. “I’m sure that will be lovely. And what a nice way of thinking of the service—as a celebration.”

  “Yes, because the poor man didn’t give himself a chance to celebrate himself often,” said Laura.

  Meadow joined them with the biscuit, now residing on a plate and with a dollop of jam on the side and a glass of milk. “I brought the jam just in case you wanted to add a little punch to the biscuit,” she said. Then she said, “I’m sorry, I totally interrupted you, Laura. You were saying that Gerald didn’t really celebrate himself?”

  “That’s exactly right. He was always working so hard.” She paused. “Did you know that there were offers for the business? Gerald and the business were really being courted.”

  Beatrice asked, “What did you think about that?”

  “Oh, of course I thought Gerald should be flattered—that the interest from the business community was a testament to his hard work and how wonderful his business was. Mark was all for selling it,” she said with a shrug.

  Meadow said, “Mark was? But Mark seems like he’s always so engaged with Dappled Hills Pimento. He’s just like his dad, always working.”

  Laura nodded ruefully. “That he is. But he’s also a businessman, through and through. I don’t think he has the same loyalty to the company that Gerald did. When he heard a good offer, he tried to persuade Gerald that the time was right to sell.”

  “But you didn’t think so?” asked Beatrice.

  Laura shook her head. “No. Dappled Hills Pimen
to was Gerald’s whole life. I couldn’t imagine him at home all day. I mean . . . what would he do? He wasn’t the type of man to sit around and read all day. And he wasn’t a bridge player. No, he needed that company and I didn’t want to see him sell it. Gerald was against selling it anyway, so it wasn’t going to go any farther.”

  Meadow said in her typical blunt way, “Wow, I bet that caused some tension in the family. So some people wanted Gerald to sell and some didn’t? I can’t imagine Mark was very happy with his dad over that.”

  Laura waved her hand in the air dismissively. “It was just business. Nothing personal. Mark and Gerald argued a lot anyway because in so many ways they were a lot alike. They were both very intense men. And that’s what you do when you’re around someone who’s just like you—you argue. Anyway, it’s not like the family didn’t have rifts already.” She raised an eyebrow and gave them a mysterious look that prompted them to ask.

  Meadow took the bait. “Not Joan?”

  It was a good guess, considering that Joan was the only child who hadn’t been directly mentioned so far.

  Laura nodded coyly. “Joan was always difficult. I could tell when Gerald had visited with her from his demeanor. He’d come home all stiff and grouchy and snap everyone’s heads off.”

  Beatrice said, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

  Laura shrugged. “Why would you? It only really happened in private. In public, Joan always puts up an act and behaves like the loving daughter. It was always over money, of course.”

  This made Beatrice raise her own eyebrows. She’d already heard about tension between Joan and her dad, but Joan had indicated that it had other causes.

  “Over money?” asked Beatrice.

  Laura rolled her eyes. “That and other things. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Joan mentioned to both of y’all that she still held a grudge against Gerald for spending so much time at work when she was a child. I mean, really? She benefitted from all that hard work for many years. Joan was never one to forgive and forget. As I mentioned, Gerald’s work was everything to him. Joan might have expressed a little gratitude that her father had made a very comfortable life for her with all of his hard work. Instead, she’s been inclined to blame him for all sorts of hateful things, among them her mother’s death. I mean, Gerald wasn’t driving the car. Her mother should have planned things better and not gone out in the dark in bad weather if she wasn’t a good driver.”