Meow Matrimony

by Lickel, Lisa;

  Elvis leaned in toward my window, which I rolled down a couple of inches. “I’m going to hang with Stanley for a while. I’ll catch up with you and Adam later.” He waved and walked away.

  I imagined them leaning over the glass cases at Wyler’s checking out engagement rings, Stanley offering sage advice. That ought to set the tongues wagging in Apple Grove. Apparently, Elvis didn’t care about someone trying to scare me with chocolate again—the incident I had wanted to tell him. Never mind that I didn’t really have a stalker after all since it was obviously Stanley playing his little game to get my attention again. But Elvis could have at least cared.

  At home I hustled in to stow my groceries and spent a couple minutes cleaning and setting out pots and tableware ready for supper. Then I returned to Mea Cuppa for the rest of the afternoon. Fridays tended to be busier with the after-school crowd. We would start staying open later in the summer, too.

  Adam was working on the city council to allow sidewalk dining, which meant we could put out a few tables and serve outside when the weather cooperated.

  I came in the front door, so I could sing along with “Oh, what a beautiful morning!”

  Only it totally wasn’t. Besides not being morning, or a beautiful day, Stanley was walking in from the back hall, Elvis in his wake. Adam followed, tying on his apron. He met my simmering disdain with a slow, quizzical brow raise, then shook his head faintly. “Ivy, glad you’re back.”

  Three of our regular high schoolers practically rammed me out of the way hoofing it to the coffee counter.

  “Hey, Mr. Mayor, I’ll have my regular, please.” Scotty Turnbow was so polite. He’d gotten his Civics teacher to let him intern with Adam in the mayor’s office the first week of January. Scotty wore a tie to school ever since. He’d also asked Colleen Bailey to prom the last three years, according to Colleen, and this year he’d succeeded in getting her to agree. Coffee was obviously not Mea Cuppa’s main attraction.

  Adam fixed Scotty’s decaf cinnamon espresso, then nodded for me to take over. I watched grumpily as he headed for his office with Stanley and Elvis following along for an apparent guys-only powwow.

  Stanley refused to meet my glare and Elvis was in the zone, back straight, glancing from side to side. Sunglasses hung from his shirt pocket. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was packing heat.

  “What can I get you?” I asked the next kid in line, forgetting both his name and his regular concoction.

  “I got it, Miss Preston.”

  Colleen appeared at my side, quickly wrapped her smiling blue plaid coffee cups apron twice around her petite middle and tied a bow in front. Show off.

  I moved away, straightened some merchandise and flicked some dust from the glass shelves of gift stuff. I had nearly gotten close enough to eavesdrop down the back hall when customers approached the register. I scooted over to ring up a few books, candy and cards, smiling at the happy chatter about a new granddaughter and congratulating them.

  Another hour flew by with roaming the store, waiting on customers and rearranging handled merchandise.

  Colleen flashed her class ring around to a gaggle of girls, all giggling and in some cases, comparing stones and engravings.

  “That Todd Wyler is soooo cute,” one young lady shrilled. “He waited on me himself.”

  “He’s not as old as his dad, either,” another girl said.

  I rolled my eyes out loud and shifted to walk around them while their conversation wafted in the high ceiling of the room.

  “You know who I saw in the store?”

  “Who?”

  “Tell!”

  “You’ll never believe it.”

  Like, for sure, if you never say, my internal snark joined in.

  “Jason Clark!”

  A chorus of “oohs” and “awws” grabbed my attention.

  “He’s way cuter than Todd.”

  “I know.”

  “And so tragic.”

  “I could never see him with that Ivanna in the morning girl.”

  “Yeah, she was trashy.”

  “Shh! Barbara Ann! That’s not nice!” Colleen whispered and made eye contact with me.

  I stepped back, realizing I’d joined the circle like the past fifteen years of maturity had never existed. I opened my mouth, actually thought about the natural “don’t speak ill of the dead” comment about to escape and closed it again. Shades of my mother. I offered a lame grin instead and turned my back.

  “But, still, he’s so dreamy,” Barbara Ann hissed.

  “And he probably needs some comforting.”

  Giggles erupted at that. I hid behind the self-help bookcase until I realized I couldn’t hear very well, then grabbed some titles off the shelf, pretending to take them to the checkout, and wandered out.

  “My dad said he has a right to be furious,” Essie Murphy was saying. Her father, Darren, was Rupert Murphy’s brother, which made Essie a cousin to Ruby. Darren Murphy was an attorney. “But he can’t find out until it’s public, which won’t be until next week.”

  “You know, though, don’t you?” the other straight-haired blonde girl asked.

  I couldn’t think of her name.

  “But why would she make such a big deal of reading her will? It’s not like she would get to be there,” a heavily ringletted girl in an ugly, teal sweater asked.

  I nearly dropped the books.

  “Shh!” The girls all turned their heads toward me.

  Totally busted. I walked away, annoyed, sure they’d been talking about Jason and Ivanna. If she’d had money, she’d probably had a will. I could only guess that the “he” was Jason. But what would he have to be furious about? Waiting to learn she’d left him everything? According to Ruby—if I could ever find her—that could be a lot. It was so unfair. It wasn’t like Jason Clark needed more money since the Clarks were well off. I remembered Melody’s oversized designer purse that must have cost more than my week’s pay. I slapped the books on the checkout counter. Five forty-five.

  The girls left the store and Colleen began wiping the tables.

  I grabbed the box of napkins and started to refill the cool retro chrome canisters on the tables.

  “She shouldn’t be blabbing like that, Miss Preston,” Colleen said. “Essie. She listens in on her parents and then spreads gossip all over school.“ Colleen looked at me, solemn and wise beyond her years.

  I didn’t know what she was planning to major in when she started college in the fall. I should have gotten better acquainted with my closest friend’s daughter.

  “She’s gotten in trouble plenty of times, but she doesn’t stop. Sometimes the things she says aren’t even true.”

  “It’s a hard habit to break,” I said, searching for a way to sound adult while still trying to probe for information. “Her parents should realize what’s going on and not talk about…er, clients at home.”

  “I’m kind of worried about her. She’s coming to my college next fall, but I told her I already had a roommate, so we couldn’t stay together. It’s someone assigned. I’ll get her name this summer.” Colleen bent over her table, scrubbing extra hard.

  “It’s all right, Colleen. Part of the college experience is meeting new people and learning to get along with all kinds. If you only hang out with kids you know, it’s harder to make new friends.”

  She glanced up at me and smiled with straightened teeth and a dimple like her mom’s. Oh, Addy, I can see why you’ll miss her. I would too. I would, even though she wasn’t my kid. Maybe having kids wasn’t all it was cracked up to be if people put all that time into them and then they up and leave.

  “Thanks, Miss Preston,” she said.

  “Closing time. Why don’t you clock out?” Six bells, and right on cue, my mom walked in the front at the same time the men walked in from the back, their footfalls echoing in syncopation on the polished thin oak floorboards. I locked the front door and turned the sign to “closed.”

  “Geneva! Good to see you,” Adam thun
dered.

  Colleen walked past Elvis, who winked at her, and Stanley, who gulped like a beached alewife at the sight of my mother.

  Adam clasped Mom’s hand for a moment before approaching me to pet my shoulders gingerly. “Guess who’s coming to dinner, sweetheart?”

  ~*~

  And so that was why, forty minutes later, I was putting a leaf in my kitchen table—I didn’t have a dining room—to accommodate the fifth chair. At least pasta was easy to stretch. Having enough food for surprise guests was rarely a problem with me. The men were hanging out in the living room, wisely keeping their distance, while spaghetti sauce bubbled on my stove. I’d cut in some extra tomatoes and Mom chopped some fresh basil to throw in the pot. She was counting out forks and knives much too quietly.

  Things were really messed up if I frightened my own mother into silence. I set out placemats, hesitating at the empty sixth place. “We should really invite Amy over,” I said. “You know, Elvis’s fia—I mean, girlfriend.”

  “Why don’t you see if Elvis wants to give her a call?” Mom was distracted, not paying attention to my my righteous annoyance that my current fiancé was making nice with my former fiancé. Who nearly got me imprisoned for a murder neither of us had anything to do with. I hoped. She lingered at the empty spot, too. I’d set a placemat out to make it even. I sighed. I suppose I could have invited Virgil. Still could.

  “How about we see if Virgil doesn’t have plans?”

  Mom smiled. “He does. His sister is visiting from Poughkeepsie. We’re having lunch tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” I put on my bright, interested smile. I was one step closer to losing her. Or gaining another father figure. I snorted. At my age. “That sounds lovely.”

  She gripped my forearm and touched her cheek to mine. “Yes, doesn’t it? Then I’m attending a meeting of the Seeds later on.”

  The mood lightened, never mind that I had expected to spend more time with her on wedding plans. I looked at the place that shouldn’t be empty no matter who else was there, thought of Ivanna briefly, then decided to call Amy myself. She was my friend too.

  She answered on the fifth ring, when I was mentally composing a message. I switched instead to the live version invitation to spaghetti supper.

  “Oh, I’d love to!” she said. “Not just because of Elvis. And you,” she added in a rush. “It’s just that I’ve had exterminators here all day and it’s been crazy!”

  “Exterminators?” My voice rose. “Anything I should know about?”

  “Oh, gosh, no. That’s the problem. I wouldn’t have even said anything if it wasn’t you.”

  I tried to take that as a compliment.

  “It’s just that Doralynn Pressman absolutely makes me so mad. I’ll explain when I get there.”

  I hung up and turned down the flame under the sauce. Mom and I went into the living room. “Dinner will be a little bit yet,” I announced. I drifted next to Adam and parked on the sofa within arm wrapping distance. “We’re waiting for one more person to arrive.”

  He sensed my mood shift and grinned, though I refused to answer his eyebrow raising question of “whom?” He assessed my mother, trying to guess.

  She sat in the wing chair between Stanley and Elvis, who’d perched on a hassock, and started to drill Stanley on his plans.

  Adam relaxed and watched them.

  I tensed. Something else was up, and he knew what it was. I could tell by his calmness and the even pulse at the base of his throat, exposed tonight, when he usually wore a scarf to hide his burn scars.

  Since I had a secret guest, I owed him a secret too. But the next time we were alone, he would have to spill, or else.

  12

  Once Amy fluttered in, a hugely smiling Elvis helped peel her metallic blue knit shawl from her shoulders. He hung it over his jacket in the closet under the steps, and I called everyone to sit.

  Adam offered the prayer, adding in gratitude for good health, thankfulness for family, and blessings on our daily and future activities. I heard his love between the lines and squeezed his hand extra tight.

  We began passing dishes.

  Amy looked at Stanley in question.

  I mentally smacked myself. “I am so sorry,” I said. “I just forgot. I mean, I assumed…never mind. Amy Collins, this is Stanley Brewer. Amy is the event planner for…she works at Ethereal Events. That’s how we met. She and…” Well, that was pretty obvious, that she and Elvis were a couple. “Stanley is…” OK, so far only one foot in my mouth. I could quit while I was ahead. “A friend,” I concluded lamely as Mom kicked my foot under the table.

  Adam cleared his throat. I couldn’t look at him or I was afraid we’d both burst out in inappropriate giggles, like people are tempted to do at a funeral when the tension runs thick.

  “Nice to meet you,” Amy said. “Where are you from?” She twirled pasta around her fork.

  We all glanced at Stanley.

  I hoped Adam was sorry now for inviting him, putting him on the spot.

  Except Stanley decided to go into charming chocolate salesman mode. “Chicago. Most recently, that is.” He passed the peppercorn ranch salad dressing and grabbed the bread basket from Elvis. “I used to sell Featherlight Confectionaries.”

  Amy perked up. “Oh! We just had some samples delivered to Ethereal Events. I’ve been considering adding them to our favor options. So far, we’ve only used North Star, and the quality…” She squirmed and bit her lip. “I mean, Featherlight has some unusual kinds.”

  Stanley lit up. “Our newest variety is a show stopper. With nougat wrapped around a pecan in the center, creamy fudge exterior, we can even wrap to order, matching…the…bride’s…” His complexion turned blotchy pale and red. “Anyway, it’s good.”

  I puckered my lips to keep the grin from showing and continued to eat. This time the embarrassing episode was not my fault. But if Amy had never met Stanley, who had delivered the Featherlight candy samples to her at Ethereal Events? I opened my mouth to ask but changed my mind about interrupting.

  “It is good,” Amy said gently. “The samples were fantastic. I put in an order. One of our clients took some, too. Said she wanted to give them to a restaurant where she used to…work…oh.”

  Ivanna…it had to be. When she’d been to Ethereal Events, she’d seen the candy samples and took some to Tiny’s Buffet. Maybe even took them…home? But that would mean all the candy samples had to have been poisoned, right? The killer wouldn’t know which one Ivanna would pick. Maybe the victim wasn’t even supposed to be Ivanna. I took in a deep breath and ordered myself to stay in the moment.

  As hostess, I should pick the conversation topics, and I chose, of all things, to comment on the weather. How two hours south made a difference in blooming things.

  Mom didn’t pick up, and Amy commented on her geraniums briefly.

  We finished the meal in silence, and probably in record time, clicking our utensils against the plates and salad bowls almost in formation, except for my mother who was taking her time.

  My clock didn’t tock out loud, but it would have kept the beat. I hoped I had enough antacid in the house for later when everyone who ate too fast started to pay for it. I bounced up to clear plates when Mom finally put down her fork. “That was delicious, dear.”

  “Thanks, Mom. If you all want to head into the living room, I can bring coffee. And I have cake.”

  The others shuffled away.

  Adam stayed. “I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his chin on my head.

  I stopped mid-reach for the coffee cups. “I was kind of embarrassed. Somehow, I thought Amy knew Stanley. I don’t know who else would have brought the Featherlight samples to Ethereal Events. I mean, this is North Star territory. We shouldn’t be nervous to talk about Ivanna’s death anymore. It’s not as if we were involved.”

  We went quiet, each thinking. Then Adam let me go and reached for cups while I poured coffee.

  “I think we shoul
d arrange a meeting with young Mr. Clark,” he said. “Something doesn’t add up.”

  I met his eyes. “About?” Had he changed his mind about getting involved in the case?

  “I don’t like it that he thought he had grounds to file a complaint against you, then drop the charges.”

  “The poisoning wasn’t an accident, obviously.” I willed him tell me something…anything. “I didn’t do it. It had to be the candy.”

  He shook his head. “The report isn’t ready yet. Toxicology testing takes time.”

  “What if Ivanna wasn’t the one who was supposed to die?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I glanced toward the living room and lowered my voice. “The samples were brought to Ethereal Events, where Ivanna happened to see them. What if they were meant for…” I slid my gaze toward the living room and raised my brows.

  Adam quirked his mouth. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but we received a package of samples at the store, too.”

  “But we already buy Featherlight.”

  He nodded. “Right. So, it must have been a random business mailing.”

  “But…I really think Jason is involved somehow. That’s why you want to see him, right? You want to make him confess?”

  Adam touched my lips with his finger. “If I thought he was dangerous, if the police thought he was, we’d make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “But somebody did it. And that person is still walking around.” I shivered.

  He squeezed my shoulders. “We don’t know if this…case is a distraction.”

  “From what? Like my arrest was a distraction?”

  He rested his temple against mine. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  I didn’t even allow myself a glance at the burn scars along his neck, disappearing under his collar, a reminder of the terrible night he’d tried to save his first wife and daughter from a car fire. Instead, I put my hand on the side of his face and gazed steadily into his eyes. “I believe you. And you can’t promise me that,” I whispered.