A Juicy Morsel of Jealousy
1
My stomach lurched when I realized I’d driven to the wrong place. It was just that this path, well, it was ingrained in me. I had steered here on autopilot, a thousand other things running through my mind. Now I felt guilty. I was going to be late.
My foot hovered an inch above the accelerator. The car eased past the old house. The shrubs were overgrown, well past the window line. Grandmother would never have allowed that. There was a blue truck in the driveway. If its year was twenty years earlier, it could almost be my grandfather’s 1988 F-150, royal blue—the one with the stick-shift on the floor. The truck he’d let me “drive” to the end of the cul-de-sac and back. Sitting on his lap, I’d felt like anything was possible.
The truck wasn’t even a Ford. Almost.
This house was home to countless precious memories. I realized that wasn’t necessarily true. My memory is what’s home to them. Grandmother’s house was just where they’d taken place. But she’d sold it to a nice young family. I drove past it, the memories fading.
A few minutes later, I pulled into Mossy Oaks Retirement Village.
It wasn’t exactly a nursing home. Lanai had one of those on the other side of town. Mossy Oaks was a luxury apartment complex for the active elderly. Grandmother had felt the pressures of maintaining a household in her twilight were too burdensome. She’d moved here about a year ago.
Had it really been that long?
I parked in the rows of visitor parking outside the main building. It was a large single story structure and home to Mossy Oaks’ numerous amenities. A restaurant and coffee shop, a swimming pool, a gym. They had a convenience store and a pharmacy drop-off and pick-up. It was a one-stop shop for the residents. They didn’t have to go anywhere if they didn’t want to.
If they did want to leave, Lanai had a special shuttle service. The stops included the nearby BINGO hall, numerous churches, and our downtown shopping district.
If the drive had made me uneasy, the walk to the entrance was worse. Much to my dismay, there was a police car, an ambulance, and the coroner’s vehicle lined up at the curb. No sirens flashed. This wasn’t lining up to be a carefree lunch date with Grandmother. Emotions weighed heavily in my chest.
The burley concierge at the front had the name Vic sewn on his polo. “Allison Treadwell,” I said. “I’m here to visit with Evelyn Treadwell.”
“For?”
I shrugged. “To visit.”
“And what’s that?” he asked.
“Lunch?” I held up a drink carrier with one hand and the white paper bag filled with chicken sandwiches, waffle fries, and ketchup packages with the other.
“Darn.” Vic winked. “I was hoping that was for me.”
“It looks like you’re doing okay,” I said, pointing to a plate of what looked to be freshly made muffins.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “These ladies do me right. Have a good day, Allison. And tell Miss Evelyn I say hi.”
“Sure thing,” I said, smiling.
It was a short walk through the courtyard to Building D. The drama seemed to be localized inside the adjacent Building C.
Deep down, there had been a little fear. I was afraid that what I’d seen coming in might have something to do with Grandmother. Now, I could breathe easy—or easier. I hoped it wasn’t someone she knew. Her inner circle had grown in the time that she’d lived at Mossy Oaks. She was always making new friends.
The apartments looked similar on the outside. Only a few decorations on the front windows and the doorways set them apart. Some residents had plants out on the walkway or in their windowsills.
I stopped outside of apartment D4 and rang the doorbell with my elbow.
I waited for a few seconds and strained to try and hear anything from inside. Getting impatient after a minute or so, I rang the doorbell again.
“Sorry,” Grandmother called from the other side of the door. She unlocked three bolts and then the chain. When she opened the door, she ensured no one else was listening before saying in a whisper, “I was having a BM.”
“Secret’s safe with me.” I hugged her awkwardly with our bag of food between us.
“Here. Let me carry that.”
She took the drink carrier from me. I followed Grandmother to her small cafe table where I promptly emptied the contents of the bag. It wasn’t that I was starving. But going more than ten minutes with the smell of fried chicken had my taste buds going mad.
Grandmother sat across from me. She blessed our meal as we held hands across the table. It was more formal than my typical fast food prayer, but I loved that I had such a Godly woman in my life.
She unwrapped her sandwich. “Allie, you should’ve gotten me the kid’s meal,” she scolded. “I can never eat the whole sandwich.”
Like me, Grandmother was what some might call boney. Our faces had similar features, dark eyes, thin lips. Her gray hair was considerably shorter than my brunette tresses. The fact that I had to use two hands to count the sparse gray hairs I’d found in the mirror that morning flashed hotly through my mind. This was a look into my future.
“A kid’s meal doesn't come with a large sweet tea,” I told her.
“Well, then there you have it,” Grandmother said. “I guess I'll have to eat the other half for dinner. And, sweetheart, do you mind opening this ketchup for me? My arthritis has been acting up all morning.”
Grandmother had a prim way of speech was endearing. It was formal when it didn’t need to be. Not many people talked like her. But I guess I didn’t regularly converse with octogenarians.
“My pleasure.” I gave her a smile, grabbed the ketchup, and opened it for her. Then I did the same for myself.
Potatoes are one of God’s gifts to man. And fries are like their own food group. A favorite food group of mine. But I could never count on any fast food joint, even one as sacred as this one, getting the seasoning right. If the fries didn’t have salt, I’d probably drown them in ketchup like I was a child.
These fries were perfect. It was a crisp bite, and the salt stuck to my tongue.
I took a sip of tea, looking out the sliding glass door of Grandmother’s apartment. A crowd had gathered in the courtyard, their eyes fixed on Building C.
“Do you know what’s going on out there?” I asked her.
She took a bite, then she dusted off a single crumb on her cheek with a napkin. “I haven’t heard much yet. But I think it was Melvin. He passed away last night. Bless him.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that,” I said. “Did you know him well?”
“We played cards from time to time,” she admitted.
Grandmother took another bite before something struck her. “You know who Melvin is—I mean you know who he was close to. Your sweet neighbor, Jeanie. She’s been eating with him in the café—every day after BINGO.”
“How long has she been doing that?” I swear this happened every time I got near the women in my family. I couldn’t help it. I had to hear their little bits of gossip.
“It’s pretty recent,” Grandmother said. “The last month or two.”
I did think Jeanie had seemed happier recently. I had attributed it to her winning at BINGO. At least I thought she must be winning. She’d been going more often than I thought social security checks usually allowed.
Poor Jeanie. She was going to be devastated.
As we finished lunch, I dreaded the thought of talking to Miss Jeanie about Melvin. This wasn’t going to be a conversation I could have from the safety of my front porch. Jeanie always hollered a hello when I got home from a run.
I began to clean up the table, collecting the crumbs and the packaging back into the bag.
Then the doorbell chimed in Grandmother’s apartment.
“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.
“Only you.” Grandmother cocked her head toward the door. “Do you mind getting it, sweetheart? I need to run and have a tinkle. I’m beginning to think my inner worki
ngs are linked to that doorbell.”
“I’ll get it.” I laughed.
2
“Can I help you?” I asked.
Two women, fitting the bill of little old ladies, barged right through the door when I opened it. They tore past me and headed straight toward the living room.
They both wore button down shirts, high-waisted jeans, and white lace-up Easy Spirit shoes. Grandmother returned from the bathroom and smiled pleasantly at them. I noticed her outfit was almost identical.
This place is practically a sorority, I thought, following the two of them.
“I'm Esther, but you can call me Dot,” the first lady said. “And this here is Thelma. You must be Melanie.”
I frowned. Then Thelma grabbed my hand and brought it up to her eye level. She peered at my ring finder.
“Nope,” she said. “This is Allie.”
“I’m sorry,” Dot corrected. “You must be Allie.”
It was hard to distinguish one from the other. Dot was longer and leaner, with a little pooch for a belly. Thelma appeared soft all over but not round.
“That’s right,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The ladies already knew the layout of the place. It probably mimicked their own apartments. They found seats on the couch, and Grandmother, back from the bathroom, perched in her recliner. It wasn’t the most spacious apartment. There was no other furniture, so I was forced to take the third cushion of the couch beside Thelma.
Grandmother had mentioned Dot over the phone a few times. And not in the best light. She had said that Dot was a professional gossip—as if gossiping had a tour like the PGA.
“You wouldn’t believe the trauma I had this morning.” Dot glanced back and forth between Thelma, Grandmother, and myself. She seemed to be gauging our reactions.
“I’ll believe it,” Thelma said.
“Well, I already told you, now didn’t I?” Dot retorted. “But you’ll stop me if I leave something out.”
“Will do.” Her friend nodded her head.
“Now, where should I start?” she asked the room.
“How about at the beginning?” I suggested. I was only a little taken aback that these women had barged in on my visit.
“No, no. We don’t have all day.”
“How about from this morning?” Thelma asserted.
“Perfect idea.” Dot straightened up and again gave us all a once over before continuing. “This morning,” she said, “I met up with Bitsie for our usual walk.”
It must’ve occurred to her that I didn’t know about her usual morning walks. She looked me in the eyes. “You see, Allie, we like to do laps around the building for exercise. Now here lately, it’s been cooler than I like. The chill gets in my bones. We’ve been going to the clubhouse and doing it all indoors. But it was nice outside this morning, the sun out in full force, so we decided to meet out in the courtyard and go from there.”
“And if it was a Tuesday or a Thursday,” Thelma offered, “I’d have been with y’all. You understand, I have to give my knee every other day off or it starts acting up.”
I nodded. I did understand. At thirty, my knees gave me fits after long runs.
“But you weren’t there today,” Dot said. “Now, let me finish. Where was I?”
“The courtyard,” I said.
“Right. The courtyard. You see, yesterday, Melvin told Bitsie he wanted to join us on our morning walk. For old times’ sake, he said. You know, he used to walk with us every day back when he and Bitsie, well, when they were friendly.”
“Friendly,” Thelma scoffed. “He was friendly with Bitsie and every other widow at Mossy Oaks.”
“Never you mind that,” Dot said. “As I was saying, Bitsie and I waited in the courtyard. We were talking about the change in the weather. We hoped that the colder winter weather was behind us. But Melvin was a no show. We waited maybe ten minutes.”
“What did y'all do next?” Grandmother asked.
“We went after him. Bitsie led the charge after I suggested we go up and get him. She banged on the door a minute or two, and I rang the bell. No answer.”
“You said you were put out with him,” Thelma interjected. “I remember you saying that.”
“Right.” Dot nodded. “We were put out and about to leave when Bitsie suggested that I try the door. I don't know why we hadn't thought of it sooner.”
“So, I turned the knob—” Dot paused for affect “—and the door just opened. You see, he never liked to lock his door. Or that’s what I’ve heard. He’d locked himself out a few too many times. He thought that they’d try and put him in memory care if he continued to do so.”
“I can’t blame him,” Grandmother said, shaking her head sadly. “Then what happened?”
“Bitsie and I went into the apartment. Only then did I start worrying about what we might find. I took the bedroom, and on my suggestion, she took the bathroom. I chose wrong.”
“Oh, Lordy.” Grandmother covered her mouth.
“I must’ve let out a shriek, because Bitsie hobbled in and almost toppled me over. Being a nurse for almost thirty years, I know a dead body when I see one.”
All three ladies had tears streaming down their faces. And though I didn’t know him, I felt a hot tear run down my cheek.
Grandmother kept tissues in her bathroom. I retrieved the box and passed the tissues out for everyone.
“What did you do after that?” I asked. My curiosity took over. This wasn't at all like the deaths I had been around. Melvin probably lived a long, happy life. And he passed away in his sleep. Only a month ago, I’d watched my friend George Wilson pass away from poisoning. It was quite sudden and tragic—George still had a lot of life left to live. It had happened in front of a crowd at a murder mystery dinner party.
“Well,” Dot said, “Bitsie had gotten a little hysterical. My instincts took over, and I had to calm her. I helped her out to the living area. Then I checked for his pulse. There was none. His body was cool to the touch.
“I called the Lanai Police, and let’s see, Bitsie went down to the Mossy Oaks office. She found Vic. After all, they needed to know what was going on.”
“Why did you call the police?” Grandmother asked. “Didn’t he die in his sleep?”
“He wasn’t in hospice care,” Dot said. “When anyone dies, an officer has to come out. It’s just how it's done.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”
Dot fidgeted with her medical alert bracelet, before continuing the story. “Well, it didn't take long for people to start showing up and start taking care of stuff. Bitsie and I answered a few questions, then we were on our way. With the stress of the morning I still needed to get my walk in because it was emotionally taxing. But Bitsie excused herself. I assume she went back to her room.”
“I can’t say that I blame her,” Grandmother said. “It sounds like a particularly trying morning.”
“You're right,” Thelma said.
“After my walk, I went to tell Cleo. And if I thought Bitsie took it bad, Cleo was far worse.”
“Given their history,” Thelma said, “I’m sure it hit her harder than others.”
“Their history?” I asked.
“You didn't hear it from me,” Dot said. “But Melvin and Cleo used to be an item.”
Hmm. Miss Jeanie wasn't the only one who had a soft spot for Melvin. The list of ladies was growing by the second.
And speaking of…
“Well, ladies,” I said. “It's been nice to meet you. I really need to get going. I should go over to Miss Jeanie Harrison's house. I'm sure she could use a shoulder to cry on.”
“That’s Melvin’s new gal, isn’t it?” Dot asked.
“It is.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Thelma said.
“Yes, it was great to meet you. Now don't be a stranger,” Dot added.
I hugged my grandmother tight around her shoulders.
“I love you,” I said. “I’l
l see you later.”
“I love you too, Allie girl,” she said, giving me an extra squeeze, which was exactly what we both needed.
I sighed as I got into the car. I was left with the daunting task of informing Jeanie that she had one less person to love this side of Heaven.
3
For the second time in one day, I felt strange—as if I was in the wrong place. But I was in the right place, standing on Miss Jeanie’s doorstep with a pint of Chunky Monkey in my hand.
I probably should’ve stopped and got her flowers. The ice cream was my way of coping with the stressors of life, not hers.
I knocked a second time.
“Coming,” I heard her say.
This wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to having. But here in Lanai, Georgia, neighbors were more than just neighborly. We were friends. We were helping hands and shoulders to cry on. Friendly neighbors were the backbone of our tight-knit community.
Miss Jeanie opened the door. Her face was red and blotchy. I hadn’t beaten the bad news.
“I'm so sorry.” I wrapped her in a hug. She sobbed, her shoulders heaving under my embrace.
“Oh, Allie.” She pulled herself together momentarily to let me inside.
I could count on one hand how many times I’d been into her home. I could count it on two fingers. We were porch people in Lanai—which makes sense as the word lanai means porch or veranda.
Mostly, we waved hello and goodbye, often when I was going out on a run. But we did have plenty of conversations. She always told me about bingo and about her grandchildren who lived in California. I told her about the latest restaurants I’d tried and tried my best not to let her ask me too many questions about my love life.
Love life. That was new. I’d been dating Luke James for a little over a month.
“I brought you this.” I handed her the ice cream. “It always helps my mom and I when we’re having a bad day.”
“Thanks, shug,” Miss Jeanie drawled. “Let me just pop this in the ice box.”
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 21