“Beginner’s luck!”
“Do it again!”
Julia frowned. “You want me to throw another ball down? But I knocked everything down already.”
“Turn around dear and look, the pins are automatically being set up again,” Gracie advised.
Without a word, Julia picked up a ball and got another strike. When she was told to do it again, she did it again.
“This is the most annoying game. I knock the pins down and that machine just keeps setting them up. What’s the point?”
Gracie and Conrad tried to explain the scoring and encouraged Julia to watch the fun the other players were having; but Julia wasn’t convinced.
“Sorry folks, this game is really boring.” She started to untie her shoes but stopped when she saw Conrad looking surprised and a little bit sad.
“I’ll stay and watch you guys. It’s nice getting out of the house and doing stuff with people.”
About the sixth frame, Julia was amazed. Most of the folks on the team had difficulty throwing what they called strikes. Every time she was told to throw the ball and knock the pins down, she did.
She was well on her way to a perfect game and a buzz was building through the bowling alley. Even Trudy-Faye was excited.
Unfortunately, Julia thought it would be more fun to try and pick the pins off one at a time so for her next turn she threw the ball and knocked only the headpin down.
The entire Splitsville Lanes groaned in unison.
Julia explained what she was doing to the team. They in turn tried to explain the scoring again but stopped when they realized how much fun she was having.
“I’m going to get us some soft drinks,” Conrad said.
“I’ll join you,” Gracie replied.
As they walked to the counter, Conrad lowered his voice and said to Gracie, “You were right about bowling. I’m fascinated by her; she’s definitely a good sport even though she doesn’t get the sport. But, there’s something not quite…” He stopped and tried to put his feelings into words. “There’s nothing wrong with her; she’s delightful, but, perhaps this is crass, you know the saying “one sandwich short of a picnic’?”
Gracie nodded and added, “But she’s very intelligent. She’s not missing a sandwich, it’s just like she just didn’t want one, so she didn’t bring it.”
“Something like that. I enjoy listening to her talk; I never know what she’s going to come up with. But did you notice at the beginning, when she was bored? I thought she was going to hop in her truck and drive away.”
“Yes. Her sudden drop in energy was noticeable. She may just be a person who has to have something on the go all the time.”
Conrad laughed. “You know Gracie, I think you might be able to identify with her.”
As they picked up the pop and snacks, Gracie said wryly, “Have you seen my newspaper ad?”
***
At the Gervais home, Trudy-Faye was at her computer, reading the news from the Huckleberry Bulletin website. Evelyn Pitre’s trial was still months away as she was claiming diminished capacity.
And she might have a point there. Anyone who brings their husband lunch and on the spur of the moment decides to stab them in the neck might have a few mental health issues. Her lawyer had already delayed the trial twice for psychological assessments.
“William, you know what this means?”
William knew Trudy-Faye would just talk herself into a decision; the only thing he needed to contribute to the conversation was the occasional grunt.
“The Pitre home won’t be going up for sale for some time. They didn’t have any kids you know; what a shame. That big old house just standing empty.”
William Gervais Senior gave a non-committal grunt.
“So I think I’ll hold off approaching the lawyer for the listing. That will give Julia Smith time to get her sewer fixed. She’s not such a bad gal after all; she did alright at bowling tonight. What do you think William?”
William didn’t know if he was supposed to comment on Julia Smith’s bowling prowess, sewer fixing plans or Trudy-Faye’s listing delay.
He grunted.
***
Under the marigold beds, Brett Smith’s body continued to decompose. Normally, his wife would come out each night and talk to him. But, after bowling, Julia Smith did not go out to the marigolds to talk to Brett. She had spent months proving to Brett and herself that all the things he had said to her were untrue. She was talked out.
Plus, she liked talking to real people better.
What Happens When The Cabbage Leaves?
Shirley Vallencourt was thinking of gophers. Years ago she had travelled to Yukon on her honeymoon with her new husband Landon. She had told him that she was a big fan of the poetry of Robert Service, so he surprised her with a flight north where a rental car was waiting in Whitehorse. They then drove further north to ‘the marge of Lake Laberge’ to read poetry and eat their lunch.
Like most newlyweds, they were broker than broke, so they ate cheese and crackers. Out of nowhere, an artic ground squirrel popped up on the rock beside them and began eating the crumbs. The squirrel was huge! Shirley and Landon began breaking pieces off the cracker and throwing it to him. Several more squirrels showed up.
“We’re surrounded!” giggled Shirley.
The first squirrel was greedy; he pounced on every piece of cracker before his smaller cousins could even try. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth so fast and so full, that just as soon as he shoved cracker in one side of his mouth, crumbs were falling out of the other side. The smaller squirrels were busy licking up the crumbs.
Landon and Shirley laughed and laughed.
That was then. Things pretty much went downhill in the years since their honeymoon.
Now, Landon was nothing but a greedy ground squirrel. Money was everything to him. He was so concerned about stuffing their bank accounts with money, that he spent five days a week living in the city and just coming home on the weekends. Their bank account was more than healthy; their marriage was not.
It’s true that Shirley loved not having to work for a living, but the more money Landon made, the tighter he got with the household budget. Last weekend, he had slashed Shirley’s household allowance.
It started after Shirley bought a plastic bottle of water at the gym for two dollars.
“You paid for water? Are you crazy? I’m away working in the city all week and you’re at home wasting my hard-earned money?”
He stood there waiting for her to answer.
Shirley was flabbergasted but being married to Landon for the last fifteen years, she knew it was pointless to argue. This was not the hill she was going to die on.
“I’ll remember to pack my water bottle next time I go,” she wearily said.
“And what do you need to go to the gym for? What’s the point? You look the same as when we got married.”
Shirley felt her ire rise. “That is the point, Landon. I work hard at keeping my figure, so I go to the gym!”
Landon slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter.
“No more. You’re done. You’ve got enough to do out in the yard and cooking and keeping this house clean. You don’t need to go to the gym and associate with those idiots.”
Shirley was completely angry now. “I am not cancelling my membership! I love going to the gym. A lot of my friends go there; we go to the same classes.”
Landon raised his hand and threatened to hit her.
It was enough. She backed down.
“I’ll phone and cancel,” she said.
Having won, Landon’s temper switched off. “Whatever you’re making for supper smells awesome. I’m glad I married such a good little cook.” He gave her a wink and went to the den to watch the news.
It took some time for Shirley’s breath to return to normal. She busied herself with making a salad with all her fresh garden vegetables.
She promised herself, ‘One of these days, I’m going to fight back. I don’t c
are if I get another black eye or even lose my teeth, I’m going to fight back’.
The couple continued on for another week, then Landon came home and found something else that Shirley needed to cut back on.
“No more of these annuals. You don’t need to be continually buying seeds and starter plants for flowers and things that only last a couple of months. No. It’s just a waste of money and it’s stopping now.”
“But our salads are all annual plants…” Shirley began.
“No buts!” Landon thundered. “No excuses just do it. I want you to stop growing annuals right now! Today! Or else!”
“Fine.”
Shirley was starting to boil; but she kept a lid on her temper. As soon as Landon left for work that week, she got out the newspaper where she had an ad circled. It read:
“Did you do something bad, but can’t quite remember? Did your neighbor do something bad and you want to get the goods on them? Contact Gracie Noseworthy Investigations at 555-2368. I sniff out trouble!”
“Is this Gracie Noseworthy?”
“Yes, what do you need investigated?”
“Could I meet you somewhere, maybe at the park? I don’t want to talk about this at a coffee shop. Some of my husband’s friends could be there.”
***
Mrs. Shirley Vallencourt was a slim woman, only slightly shorter than Gracie, with beautiful salt and pepper hair. They met on the bench by the duck pond.
“I wish my hair was as gorgeous as yours!” Gracie said as they shook hands.
“I get black lowlights put in. My husband thinks it’s all natural, but I sneak off to the beauty salon every so often and get it done.”
Gracie’s mental notetaking went like this, “Good quality clothing, but at least fifteen years old and in need of repair. Husband a miser? Purple and yellow bruising around the left eye; she’s wearing a turtle neck with long sleeves in summer; abused?’ What she said was, “Where do you get the money to pay the hairdresser?”
“I take the runners from my strawberry plants and pot them and sell them when my husband is away in the city working. My husband Landon is a bit of a tightwad.” Shirley was sitting with her back straight as a board, and a bead of sweat was across her brow from both the turtleneck and her nervousness.
Gracie put her hand over Shirley’s. “Just tell me,” she said softly.
“I can’t live at home any longer, but I’m too afraid to make any changes. As a joke, my husband and I signed pre-nuptial agreements. If I leave the marriage, I would get nothing. I’ve never worked in my life, Gracie, I don’t know how I would support myself.”
“Even in little old Huckleberry, there are a lot of organizations that can help you with that. But before we go there, what did your husband’s prenup say?”
Shirley gave a quick smile. “He was so in love with me and thought I was in his words, the ‘most perfect specimen of womanhood’, so we wrote in his if he commits adultery all our joint money belongs to me.”
Gracie admired the mallard ducks floating on the pond. These little creatures mate for life without prenuptials, bank accounts or flashy cars. Just enduring friendship governed by instincts. Maybe we should all be robots and have kindness pre-programmed into us? She asked Shirley, “What do you suspect?”
“I find random things in his pockets. As stereotypical as it sounds, receipts for lingerie, flowers and wine. He always has a glib answer; it was a purchase he made on behalf of a client. Landon’s in sales.”
“You think he has a lover. Any other evidence?”
“He has always been a tightwad, but the past three months he has been laying down the law, as he calls it. His latest command is that I can’t buy any more annuals. He says anything but perennials is a waste of money. I tried to tell him that the ingredients for all those salads and vegetables we both love to eat, are grown from our garden, but he wouldn’t even listen. He just shut me down.” Shirley sighed and although she was looking out at the pond, she didn’t see anything.
“I have to say this Shirley. If you are being abused, you should leave the home immediately. At no time is physical or emotional abuse something you have to live with. And be warned, it will just escalate; each so called honeymoon period where Landon is all lovey-dovey will grow shorter and shorter until you are just living a life of terror, day in and day out.”
The two women sat in silence. Finally Shirley spoke up, “I’ve looked up the resources before; I just can’t take that step.”
“I’d never force you to,” Gracie said, “So, what would you like me to investigate?”
“Is my husband cheating on me in the city? If he is, can you find me a lawyer? Landon checks all my incoming and outgoing calls. That’s why I was so short on the phone. I’m going to say it was a wrong number.”
Gracie shook her head. “Oh don’t do that. You heard from a friend that I have a lot of peony tubers that I give away for free. You phoned to see if I have any left and then came over to my house to pick them up.”
“Good plan!”
The two women left the park, and each drove their vehicle to Gracie’s home.
Gracie brought out a paper bag from her house.
“I’ve cut off the foliage and the roots and cleaned the tuber and then wrapped each one in newspaper. Just keep them in a cool dark place in your house, and next spring plant them and you’ll have gorgeous pink peonies!”
“Thanks Gracie. What do I owe you for everything?”
Gracie put her hands on her hips. “We’re going to take a long term view of this investigation. Besides my initial one hundred dollar fee, there will be some costs involved as I travel to the city and investigate. You will pay me, but I am entirely amenable to accepting one strawberry plant a year if there is no evidence of adultery. If there is; you can pay me when you get your settlement; although, I could use a strawberry plant in the meantime.”
The two women shook hands and parted ways. Each felt a heaviness in her heart that had not been there first thing in the morning.
***
Shirley just wanted everything done and over with, but she knew, like Gracie, it was going to be a long haul. Landon was intelligent; he would cover his tracks.
If he had tracks to cover. Maybe he was just buying that stuff for a client and the client would pay him back? Sure, he just happened to shop for wine late at night from room service at a fancy hotel.
Shirley could not understand how she could waffle like this; one moment absolutely convinced she was being cheated on and the next, defending her husband. Nor could she comprehend her refusal to call his abuse, abuse.
Without warning, all the excuses started running through her head; he was tired, he was stressed from work, her tone of voice was harsh, she shouldn’t talk back, he had a right to tell her how to spend the money because he earned it.
And the worst one, he didn’t mean it; he loved her. Well, we’ll just see about that when he comes home next week and sees what I’ve done, Shirley thought.
She put the paper bag with the peony tubers in a drawer in her craft room. Shirley was going to order out for her supper when the beeping sound of the front door lock began. Landon walked in.
“Hi, what brings you back home?” she asked surprised that after one night in the city he returned home. Normally, he rented a room from a co-worker for the week.
“Can’t a man come home when he wants to?” Landon snarled.
“I’m sorry, I was just wondering why you came home early. Is everything all right?”
“What makes you think I did something wrong? Women, always suspecting the worst. It’s none of your business why I’m home. Just put supper on the table like you’re supposed to.”
Shirley decided then and there that she should be treated with dignity. Thus, it was nothing big that finally flipped the switch in Shirley. She was worthy and would stand up for herself.
“About supper,” she said. “I’ve abided by the rules you gave me yesterday when you told me to stop growing an
nuals.”
“Good! About time you listened to me,” said Landon as he went to the fridge in search of a cold drink.
“What the hell?” he said, as he opened the fridge. Normally it was stuffed with vegetables cut bite size for snacking. There was nothing in the fridge but milk and frozen meat.
Shirley began speaking slowly and continued to talk even though Landon was getting angrier and angrier.
“You said to stop growing annuals. As I tried to explain yesterday, carrots are annuals, lettuce is an annual, radishes are annuals, cabbages are annuals, peas, pumpkins, beets, beans, tomatoes are all annuals. You get the idea. So, as per your wish. I stopped growing them all immediately. I got out the rototiller and plowed the vegetable gardens under.”
It had been a bad day already for Landon. His firm’s number one client fired the firm citing irreconcilable creative differences. It may also have been due to the fact that Landon had been sleeping with the client’s wife who decided to return to her husband because Landon was not able to ‘keep her in the style to which she was accustomed’. Landon’s firm, in turn, fired him. And now, his wife was talking back to him? What in the world was going on?
He raced to the kitchen door and looked out the window. Sure enough, just huge patches of dirt remained. Landon had never been so angry; he could barely see as his vision went black.
Landon clenched and unclenched his hands and ran towards Shirley. She was going to pay for this big time.
She stood her ground. In fact she took two steps towards him and pointed her finger at him.
“This is your anger and I will not be a victim of it. I am dialing 911 right now. I am also walking out the front door. You will not lay a hand on me.”
Shirley began talking to the operator on the phone indicating a domestic abuse situation and giving her address. The police car had been patrolling the area and was there almost as soon as Shirley walked out the door.
Landon attempted to charm the police officers.
“Look officers, the little lady got her knickers in a twist because I wanted my supper early. No problem, I’ll wait. Just tell her to get back in here and make it and everything will be fine.”
Gore in the Garden Page 19