Family Fruitcake Frenzy

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Family Fruitcake Frenzy Page 7

by Margaret Lashley


  “You won’t need them. I might kill you, instead.”

  Goober’s jovial face went blank. “Oh.”

  I hustled him into the house and up to the fridge. “What’s in the bag, Goober?”

  “Of which bag are you speaking?”

  “The one in the refrigerator!” I looked around and added, “And any others you might have stashed around here!”

  Goober smoothed his bushy, glittery moustache with his thumb and index finger as he contemplated my demands. “Client privilege restricts my ability to answer some more invasive questions.”

  If he hadn’t looked so ridiculous in his Santa hat and glitter moustache, I’d have knocked him one on his peanut-shaped skull. “Goober!”

  Goober cocked his head and let out a long, slow sigh. “All right.” He straightened his back and tugged on the collar of his green vest. “Remember that bulldog we borrowed from Laverne’s neighbor? During my royal pet-strollering days?”

  “You mean Buster?”

  “That’s the one.”

  My mind took a millisecond to add two and two together. The sum made my stomach turn. “No! That’s Buster? In the...? No!”

  Goober shot me a smug smile. “And you said advertising wouldn’t pay off.”

  “No, no, no!” My lunch knocked on the backdoor of my throat. “Goober! Get it out of my fridge! Now!”

  “Geeze. I was just trying to keep him fresh before the funeral, so to speak.”

  “Now!”

  “All right, already. It’s not like you had anything in there, anyway.” Goober opened the fridge and yanked the garbage bag out from between the two empty bottom shelves. He slung the bag over his shoulder. When it hit his back with a whump, it almost knocked him breathless. I showed no mercy.

  “Out!”

  Goober wheezed and stumbled toward the front door. I pushed it open with my foot and stood aside to let him pass.

  “No more animals in the house, dead or alive. Got it?”

  Goober smirked. “Affirmative.”

  I was closing the door when Winky came waddling up. “We’re gonna be working late tonight,” he said. He lifted his Santa hat, scratched a spot on his ginger buzz cut, then gave me a proud grin. “Yep. We got to get to the mayor’s place after this.”

  Winky grinned at me like a demented gnome.

  My mouth fell open. “What? You guys got the job?”

  “Woo hoo! Yessiree! Old Cold Cuts put in a good word for us. I guess that means we’re official government men, now.”

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, WINKY and his two-elf crew worked until sunset. It was a strange and oddly mesmerizing sight. So much so that a couple of people stopped their cars and took pictures of the light-stringing trio of Santa’s helpers. Around dinnertime, I was outside admiring the spectacle myself when Laverne walked over, carrying a big tray wrapped in tin foil. Goober and Jorge were on the roof. Winky, who had been standing beside me, took off running behind the house.

  “Hi, Laverne,” I said.

  “Hi, honey! It’s looking good around here. Can’t wait ‘til Friday when they hit the light switch!”

  I laughed. “Me either. What you got there?”

  “Something I’ve been cooking up. Could you give it a taste test for me?”

  “Sure.”

  Laverne folded back the foil to reveal something that looked a bit like a pan of deep fried cornbread, but was a strange, burnt-orange color. It was cut into squares like brownies. I took the smallest piece and broke the corner off it. I popped it in my mouth as Laverne watched me intensely, her mouth opening and closing as her horsey jaw chewed along with me.

  The stuff was bland and greasy, with a stringy, spongy texture that forced me to stifle my gag reflex.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Laverne smiled tentatively. “Sweet potato soufflé.”

  “Oh.” I tried to swallow. It didn’t go willingly.

  “How was it?” Laverne asked with puppy-dog eyes.

  “Interesting. Did you take the skins off?”

  “Off what?”

  “The sweet potatoes.”

  Laverne frowned. “They have skin?”

  “Yes.”

  Laverne grimaced in horror and stared into the dish, her eyes as big as poached eggs. “Oh my gosh, Val! I thought they were vegetables!”

  My jaw went slack. Laverne had left me speechless, yet again. I studied her face as it changed from shock to a determined scowl. Finally, she nodded her head with determination.

  “Thanks, honey.” Lavern turned and walked back toward her place, toting the foil-covered abomination.

  The second Laverne’s front door shut behind her, Winky peeked around the corner. “That wasn’t the orange stuff, was it?”

  I frowned and nodded.

  “You didn’t swallow any of it, did you?”

  I nodded again.

  Winky shook his head. “Uh oh.”

  My eyebrows met in the middle. “What?”

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  “Oh my lord, Winky! Is all her food that bad?”

  “No.” He grimaced. “I swear, that was the best one.”

  “Holy crap! What are we going to do?”

  “Yeah? What are we gonna do?” Jorge said as he climbed down the ladder. “We can’t stay up on the roof forever.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Jorge, you’re a great cook. Could you bring a side dish to the party on Friday?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Good. I will, too. I’ll ask everyone else as well. I’ll give Laverne a call and let her know that all she needs to do is bake the turkey. I think I can keep an eye on that so she doesn’t turn it into a disaster.”

  “Why call? Why don’t you go over and tell her?” Goober called from the roof.

  “And risk having to sample something else?” I called back.

  “Oh. Point taken.”

  Winky shook his head. “Whew! Thanks, Val. I thought my only hope was to leave town. But I couldn’t rightly do it, ‘cause the van’s busted down right in her driveway!”

  “Don’t worry, guys. I’ve got this. Now don’t you think it’s time you called it a night?”

  “Jes. But Winky’s a slave driver.”

  “Am not!” Winky pouted. “Just wanna be ready for the mayor’s all.”

  “Well, you guys have your job, and I’ve got mine,” I said, and went inside to make the call.

  “Hey Laverne?”

  “Hi, honey.”

  On the other end of the phone line, I heard something crash. “Are you okay, Laverne?”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks. I dropped my casserole dish.”

  What a shame. “You know, Laverne, I was thinking. Cooking a big holiday meal is a lot of work for one person. And it’s traditional, you know, that everybody brings a covered dish.”

  “Honey, what would I do with a pile of dishes? I already got more than I need.”

  “Huh? No, I mean side dishes, Laverne. Green beans. Potatoes. Stuff like that. Why don’t you do the turkey and let the rest of us all help out by bringing our favorite side dishes?”

  “Well, I don’t know....”

  “It’s all settled then! I’ll let everybody know. We’re all so excited! I’ll come over early Friday and help you with the last-minute stuff. How’s that?”

  “Val, you’re sweet as sugar. Like the daughter I never had.”

  That pesky lump resurfaced in my throat. “Thanks, Laverne.”

  I hung up and wiped a tear from my eye. Geeze, I’m going soft in my old age. Maybe it was all that talk of love and marriage.... I shook my head to clear it, then went outside to tell the guys.

  “Okay. It’s done. I called her,” I said as the Three X-migos wrapped it up for the night.

  Winky patted me on the back. “You’re a bona fide Christmas miracle-worker, Val.”

  I smirked. “Thanks. But it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.”

  Chapter Twelve

  SOMETHING
SCRAMBLING across my roof woke me from a fitful sleep. I tried to get up, but my arms and legs were as heavy as wet cement. My belly gurgled. Ugh! One bite of Laverne’s caustic casserole had done me in. I’d spent the night running back and forth to the toilet, barely able to catch a wink between bouts of nausea and diarrhea. Whatever had been in that casserole wanted out of my body, and badly.

  I opened an eye and blinked up at the ceiling, too exhausted to care about what kind of creature was shuffling around on the shingles overhead. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. I hoped a cappuccino might ignite a spark of life in me. It did. But just as the coffee began to work its caffeine magic, a thought snuffed out the fledgling flame.

  Tom’s precinct party was tonight. Crap on a cracker.

  I needed to get ready for work, but I had other priorities. In a numb haze, I fumbled around in the fridge for the fruitcakes. At this late stage, I couldn’t afford to miss a single marinating session.

  When I peeled back the plastic shroud on one, the alcohol vapors stung my dog-tired eyes. As I doused the cake with rum, it took all my remaining willpower to avoid sloshing some, for medicinal purposes, into my cappuccino. I won that round.

  I shoved the sodden cakes back into the fridge and padded to the bedroom. Weary to the bone, I tugged a work blouse and skirt onto my zombie body, dragged a brush through my hair and stumbled out the front door. When I turned the ignition on Maggie, the sound of her V-8 engine brought Winky and Jorge running from the side yard.

  “Mornin’ Val Pal!” Winky called.

  “Morning,” I groaned. I looked up and noticed my roof was covered with a blue tarp.

  “Ha ha! No peeking!” Jorge said, way too cheerily. “You said you wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I gave the guys the best smile I could muster, given the circumstances.

  “See yore sufferin’ from the casserole craps,” Winky said, shaking his head. “It’ll pass.” Winky caught his unintentional pun and laughed. “It’ll pass, all right, whether you want it to or not!”

  “How long?” I asked. My question had been about my recovery period. Winky took it for something else.

  “He puffed out his green-vested chest. “Like I tole you yesterday, we got to wrap it up today. We’re expected at the mayor’s house ASAP.”

  I let out a bone-tired sigh. “Good. Hey...where’s Goober?”

  Winky motioned with his freckled head toward the roof. “Up there somewheres, hanging from the raptors.”

  I DRAGGED MYSELF INTO Griffith & Maas fifteen minutes late. Milly gave me some side eye and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “I was about to file a missing persons’ report,” she said, only half joking.

  “Sorry.”

  “You’ve been doing so well lately, Val. But today...” She gave me the once-over and stopped mid-sentence. “Whoa! You look like crap! What happened?”

  I plopped my purse on my desk and flopped into my chair. “My colon had a duel with Laverne’s sweet potato soufflé. Guess who lost.”

  Milly crinkled her nose. “Oh, crap.”

  “Exactly. That reminds me, Milly. Could you bring a covered dish to Laverne’s dinner tomorrow? The less of her cooking we have to eat, the better our chances of survival.”

  Milly’s eyebrows flew up and inch, then settled back into place. “Sure. No problem.” She turned toward her office, then stopped. “Did you ever get ahold of Cold Cuts?”

  “Oh. Yeah. I forgot to tell you. I ran into her at Publix – and my cousin, too.” I rested my tired head in my hand. “It was weird. Seeing Tammy, I mean. I felt guilty somehow. When she left, I didn’t even call my mother to let her know she was gone.”

  Milly shrugged. “Well, it’s not like your mom called you and let you know Tammy was coming, either.”

  I sighed. “True. I guess we’re even.” I slumped in my chair. “Milly, to tell the truth, I just didn’t feel like calling Lucille. I’ll have to deal with her soon enough.”

  Milly smirked. “There ought to be a law against having to call Lucille. So, how is she...Tammy, I mean?”

  “Tammy is Tammy. You know, any other person might have been embarrassed, up and running off like that. But I guess she’s like my mom. Remorse isn’t in her arsenal of feelings.”

  Milly nodded in sympathy. “I get that. So what’s she doing? Staying at the beach?”

  “Oh. She found a guy.”

  Milly rolled her eyes. “’Natch. What was he like?”

  “Well, at first glance, he appeared to be a real dickhead.”

  “Whoa! That’s not very nice, even for you, Val!”

  “No. I’m serious. I have pictures to prove it.”

  AT NOON, MILLY MARCHED up to my desk.

  “I’ve made an executive decision, Val. We’re the only ones here, and I’m taking the day off tomorrow. What say we close shop now...for the holidays. You okay with that?”

  I dropped the files in my hands. “Are you kidding? Best Christmas present ever!” I shot Milly a weary, sideways grin. “I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts this year.”

  Milly laughed. “How about you buy me lunch and we’ll call it even.”

  Relief washed over my tired bones. “Works for me. Ming Ming’s okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  Ten minutes later, we were sitting at a tiny table for two by the front window of the small, strip-center restaurant. After we ordered our food, Milly began giggling. She leaned over the table and whispered to me.

  “Let me see that picture again.”

  I laughed and scrolled to the photo Cold Cuts had surreptitiously taken of Tammy and Rich as they’d stood together in the checkout line at Publix. I handed Milly my cellphone. She shook her head in disbelief.

  “It’s truly uncanny, Val. His nose does look exactly like a penis!”

  “I know. Poor guy. And now Tammy’s his girlfriend. Some people have all the rotten luck.”

  Milly laughed. “Looks are such a tricky thing. I once broke up with a guy because he had a big gap between his two front teeth. Does that make me petty?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s still better than dropping all your standards just to get laid.”

  Milly started to reply, but looked up to the left and blushed. I followed her eyes. The waiter was standing there with our sushi rolls, trying his best to stifle a smirk. Milly and I cringed. The waiter cleared his throat and put the plates in front of us. When I looked back at Milly, her face was crimson. From the heat emanating from my cheeks, I was pretty sure mine was, too.

  I picked up my chopsticks and toyed with my food. “Subject change. Any more news on the ring?”

  “No,” Milly managed with a mouthful of sushi.

  “Huh. So, what are you getting Vance for Christmas?”

  Milly’s eyes lit up. “A weekend getaway at the beach!”

  I nodded, impressed. “Nice.”

  Milly spoke in a soft, dreamy tone. “Vance works so hard at his restaurant. I’ve already worked it out with his sister and the bar staff so he can be gone two nights. I’m so excited to be able to surprise him! How about you? What are you getting Tom?”

  I bit my lip and blew out a breath. “I dunno.”

  Milly’s voice went screechy. “What? You haven’t got his present yet? Val! How could you?”

  “You know I hate to shop, Milly. And I haven’t been in a holiday mood, what with this trip to my mom’s coming up.”

  “Val, you can’t let your mother ruin your life from 400 miles away.”

  I scowled. “I’m not!”

  Milly arched an eyebrow almost to her hairline.

  I winced. “Crap! You’re right. How does she do it, Milly?”

  Milly shook her head. “She doesn’t, Val. You do it to yourself.”

  I frowned and looked down at my plate. “Part of me gets that, Milly. But the other part of me feels like I’m...I dunno...doomed.” I looked up at Milly again. “Ever since I saw that tree in the park, I feel like
I’ve been lassoed by some horrible tractor beam. It’s pulling me toward a showdown I have no hope of winning. You’ve met them, Milly. The women in my family are so...so...competitive.”

  Milly curled her upper lip. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  I dropped my chopsticks onto my plate and slumped back in my chair. “They’ll hand you a glass of sweet tea with one hand and stab you in the back with the other. They’re...they’re....”

  “Crazy.”

  “Yes! Milly, I’m so worried. What will Tom think?”

  Milly laughed. “Val, it’s not like you have the only pile of weird relatives in the world. Tom will understand.”

  “Thanks.”

  Milly winked. “And if he doesn’t, you can always steal old dick-face away from Tammy.”

  I laughed despite myself. “Millicent Halbert. Always there with a kind word of encouragement.”

  Milly grinned. “I do my best.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  WHEN I GOT HOME FROM lunch with Milly, I changed into a t-shirt and shorts and popped over to see Laverne. I needed to make sure her main course tomorrow wasn’t going to be ptomaine turkey. I rang the doorbell. Laverne, who was always perfectly coiffed and made-up, came to the door looking as if she’d just completed a thirty-mile marathon through the Amazon.

  “Geeze! Are you okay, Laverne?”

  Laverne wiped her sweaty forehead with a kitchen towel. “Thank goodness you’re here, honey! I need help with the turkey. I can’t lift it.”

  “Oh. Okay. I can do that.”

  Laverne’s worried face brightened a notch. “I don’t remember it being so heavy when I bought it,” she said as I followed her down the hall. “I got it to the kitchen, but I can’t get it up in the sink to let it thaw.”

  As we entered the kitchen, my eyes bulged at a black garbage bag on the floor beside the sink. My heart skipped a beat. Oh no! It couldn’t be...

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said, eyeing the bag with dread.

  “Oh, thank you!” Laverne said. She smiled with relief. “I’m warning you, it’s a beast!”

  I certainly hope not. But I needed to find out for sure. Laverne, however, did not. I needed to create a diversion.

 

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