by G M Barlean
“Hey, Josie.” Tanya waved.
The others turned and said hellos.
“What happened to Betty?” I looked around at the other people on the courthouse lawn as if I’d find a clue.
“What do you mean?” Mari followed my eyes.
“I saw her running down the alley. She looked upset.” We exchanged worried glances.
“We haven’t seen her since we started to work on the decorating.”
I noticed the patriotic bunting wrapped around the table. “Looks nice.”
Debbie huffed and put her little fists on her skinny hips.
I didn’t ask. My mind stayed on Betty until I caught sight of Naomi behind a tent, talking to Hank Meyer. They seemed to have their heads together over something and neither of them looked too happy. “Let me guess. Naomi has struck again?”
“Of course.” Tanya threw up her hands.
They told me about the fuss over the table decorations. I listened and nodded. Nothing new. Classic Naomi is all.
“Well, she’s over there behind the tent in the middle of a powwow with Hank Meyer. She doesn’t look too happy.”
“Hank Meyer? What’s that about?” Tanya cocked her head to the side.
“She’s probably having an affair with him, too.” Debbie rolled her eyes.
“Oh, don’t even say such a thing. Rumors start so easily.” Mari, always coloring within the lines.
“Naomi better be careful. If Darby Pederson sees her with another man, he’ll crack. He’s already so jealous of Doug it’s ridiculous.” I’d heard all the rumors like everyone else in town. Most of them had at least some thread of truth to them.
“What a convoluted situation. We’re all in our forties, and although we’ve held up well for the most part,” Tanya said, pushing her hair behind her ear, “it’s not as though any of us could pass for twenty-five anymore. Yet Naomi is still squeezed into a size seven and looks like she hasn’t aged. It isn’t fair.” Tanya mixed a glare with her pout.
“Oh, don’t give her so much credit. Her hair color comes from a bottle, I’m sure of it.” Debbie fingered her own do. “Mine does too, so I’m not judging, but I know a dye job when I see it.”
“With her kind of money, I wouldn’t doubt she’s had a nip and tuck here and there.” I mumbled my thoughts, almost embarrassed to join in the spiteful conversation. It was hard not to jump on the pile when it came to Naomi.
“Yeah… well, I’ve seen a crack or two in her paint job. You only have to look at her when the light is right. No one looks too good in direct sunlight.” Debbie gave me a wink.
“Ladies, this isn’t the issue. Doug doesn’t even seem to care about the way Naomi runs around. It isn’t right.” Mari shooed flies away from the food.
“Yeah, and Darby would have a fit if he saw her with another man.” Tanya’s eyes grew large.
“Fit? I think he’d kill him… or maybe her.” Debbie raised an eyebrow as though she’d thought of a fine idea.
The statement settled into the humid air and left us with something to think about. Chills ran up my arms in spite of the heat. Naomi dying would solve a lot of problems.
Naomi came out into the open, Hank by her side. We observed and wondered what would happen next.
“Uh-oh. Look.” Tanya pointed.
Darby Pederson had come around the building behind Naomi and Hank.
He stopped short when he saw the couple. Anger glowed on his face and even from a distance, we could see it. He put his fists on his hips and called out… Naomi turned… Hank looked startled… Darby took an aggressive stance.
I held my breath. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mari turn away.
Debbie grinned.
Tanya said, “Oh, here we go.”
I couldn’t hear the conversation, but Naomi talked fast, her head turning from side to side. It looked as though she was checking to see who was around… who could hear. I could imagine her string of excuses. Hank looked as though he’d joined in, trying to convince Darby of something.
The redneck’s face began to loosen from its tight scowl. The man wasn’t too bright. It wouldn’t have taken much to sway him.
“I can’t believe it. He must have bought whatever Naomi was selling.” Tanya looked amazed.
“Shoot. I was hoping for a fight.” Debbie shook her head in disappointment.
I suspected Betty’s situation, whatever it was, had something to do with Naomi and Hank. A tainted feel hung in the air.
We turned our attention to each other. The afternoon dragged on as we helped Mari with the food stand. People came by to visit and we laughed and enjoyed the day as best we could, but I kept my eye out for Naomi. Luckily, the shrew stayed busy and left us be. A blessing I suspected wouldn’t last.
The sun hid itself behind the false fronts of the businesses lining Main Street. The evening would culminate in a stage show featuring community talent on the bandstand in the park. The supper rush had gone through the food stand.
“You girls go on and get a seat. It won’t take me long to close up. The gals from the office will come soon to help get everything loaded and put away.”
“Are you sure, Mari?” I asked.
“Yes, yes. You go on. I’m glad for the company you all gave me this afternoon.”
“Well, I would like to see the show,” Tanya said.
“I would, too.” I looked toward the bandstand.
“Not me. The last thing I care about is a bunch of singing and dancing brats. I didn’t have kids, and I sure as hell don’t intend to sit and indulge those of other people.” Debbie never minced words. “I think I’ll go home. My feet are killing me and I have a headache.”
Mari rubbed Debbie’s shoulder.
Debbie gathered up her huge purse—Lord knows what she kept in there—and lit a cigarette as she strolled in the direction of her home.
“Well then. We’ll go watch the show. We’ll sit toward the back, so come get us if you need help.”
Mari smiled and nodded, then shooed us off. We waved and headed toward the seats.
At least a hundred people were lined up in the chairs on the grass. The crowd hummed like a hive of bees, chatting and laughing. Children fidgeted in their seats. Vendors around the courthouse lawn began to put away their wares. Every year the show ended with the town chorus singing the “Star-Spangled Banner,” then people left for their homes, sticky children in hand. Like dozens of small-town events across the Midwest. No surprises. Comfortably predictable.
Tanya and I found a seat near the back of the crowd and waited for the first of the tiny dancers. Mothers fretted over costumes and fathers readied their cameras.
Naomi primped and prepped at the right of the stage. Always the master of ceremonies, the face of this celebration, year after year. Her picture slathered the local newspaper, her quotes made it into the articles, and her voice grated in the ears of the masses. The many volunteers who worked to create the event received a small thank-you in the paper the following week. And every year Naomi threw out the orders of what to do, then showed up to criticize and take credit. Yet there were still those who flitted about her like bees to honey, hoping to be considered important by mere proximity. They were her minions and she ordered them around like Oz monkeys.
Naomi took her place behind the mike and adjusted her fake smile. Her voice rang out from the amplifiers and echoed above the assembly. People sat up straight and fell silent, the only sound, programs fanning red faces.
I looked over at Tanya and we rolled our eyes at Naomi’s blathering.
She babbled on about how wonderful this was, and how pleased she was with that. How hard she worked to organize, yet again, a perfect event. In her mind, it seemed this entire shindig focused on and occurred because of her.
“Oh, get on with it,” Tanya whispered.
I grinned and looked back to check on Mari. She had the food all packed up and Connie and the other girl from the office were hauling big boxes to a truck. I put my pu
rse on the seat next to me, assuming Mari would join us soon.
Naomi droned on, talking about how she had personally watched each of the groups of singers and dancers for the show and had given them her stamp of approval. She acted like the be-all, end-all of the town.
The crowd was fading fast, but Naomi sounded as though her oration wasn’t near a close when she faltered. I noticed it, as did others in the crowd. Naomi rarely paused for breath when she had the spotlight. She stammered as she searched her note cards and then looked over everyone’s heads. I glanced back to where her eyes focused and saw what had distracted her.
Judge Doug Talbot stood where the food table had been. He and Mari were laughing and chatting with starry-eyed looks on their faces.
Tanya turned around to look, then stared at me. “What in the hell is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Naomi yelled at him over the mike.”
To me, it seemed obvious Mari and Doug still had feelings for each other. The fire had been extinguished long ago, but embers still glowed. Regardless, the fool was putting Mari directly in Naomi’s path of destruction.
Naomi coughed and brought attention back to herself. She found her place in the note cards and continued. I hoped there wouldn’t be a scene.
At last, she introduced the first group of little girls. Chubby faces, curled hair, rosy cheeks and pink tutus, all around. The crowd aahed and oohed and chuckled at the tiny ones’ attempts to plié and arabesque, but my eyes followed Naomi as she beelined from the stage over to Mari and Doug.
They remained entranced with each other and didn’t realize what was about to hit them. I screamed at them in my mind: Good Lord, people, wake up. The shrew is on her way. But smitten oblivion had them mesmerized.
I elbowed Tanya. She turned to watch the train wreck about to happen. Her mouth hung open like a teenager at a horror flick.
“What should we do?” I asked.
Tanya shook her head and shrugged.
The sounds of clapping and cheers rang out behind us as the little dancers performed. I checked over my shoulder and saw mothers at the side of the stage, preparing the next set of little darlings.
“Oh, crap, Josie, look,” Tanya said.
Naomi talked a mile a minute to Doug and Mari. Mari took steps back from the verbal assault she was receiving.
Clacking tap shoes rattled the stage and filled the air. A spirited Irish song blared from the speakers and the heels of a new set of young girls rat-a-tatted like machine-gun fire. We watched but couldn’t hear Naomi as she continued to yell at Mari and Doug.
“We should do something.” I stood.
Tanya stood to follow and we hurried toward the escalating argument.
Tears glistened on Mari’s cheeks. Naomi’s jaws ground together and her hands were balled into fists.
“What’s going on here?” I asked Doug, who wouldn’t make eye contact.
Naomi didn’t take her eyes away from Mari. “None of your damn business, Josie,” she told me. Her voice emanated like a low growl. She licked her lips and the corner of her mouth twitched.
“Mari, are you okay?” Tanya put her arm around her shaking shoulders.
Mari had blanched white. Confrontation wilted her. “I… I…” Mari tried to say something but burst into tears. She buried her face in Tanya’s shoulder.
Doug took a step toward her, his hand reaching out to comfort. I held my breath and thought, You’ve got to be kidding me, Doug.
Naomi’s hand shot out, grabbed Doug by his arm, and pulled him toward her. Her face inches from his, she glared into his eyes. “Don’t you dare embarrass me this way.”
Doug jerked his arm away. “Embarrass you? Me. Embarrass you?” His voice shook. I could tell he was trying to control the volume of his words. His hand balled into a fist and rose to shoulder height.
Doug wouldn’t hit Naomi. No. Not Doug. He wasn’t that kind of man. I felt myself go rigid. The clacking shoes of tap dancers still covered the sounds of the marital row in progress.
“I could never embarrass you to the degree you’ve embarrassed me over the years.” He flexed his fingers in and out of the fist. A threatening gesture—but Naomi didn’t seem to notice.
“Shut up, Doug. Don’t you dare speak to me with such an insolent tone.” Naomi spoke through gritted teeth, but her eyes laughed at him.
“Why? Because you’re some kind of queen who can’t be questioned? Hardly.”
Tanya’s jaw dropped.
I blurted out a nervous laugh. Great timing. This was serious stuff. Doug was standing up to Naomi. He looked capable of killing her as a matter of fact… and if anyone could drive a man to beat his wife, it would have been this bitch. Still… he wouldn’t. Would he?
“What did you say?” Naomi stepped back, unaccustomed to Doug not being a doormat. “You will not speak to me like that… especially in front of these people.”
“Who in the hell do you think you are?” Tanya looked as though she would have rolled in the grass and pulled Naomi’s hair if she threw one more insult at any of us. I might have joined her. Debbie would have dug out her crazy jackknife if she were there.
Naomi ignored Tanya.
The tapping shoes on the stage ceased, applause rose in the air, and the arguing group hushed and held their tongues until noise could cover their words.
Naomi turned to the stage to watch, still mindful of her masterpiece in progress, a false smile plastered on her face.
The sun began to set. Streetlights flickered on. A breeze blew over the sweaty crowd sitting in rows of hot metal chairs. Collective relief showed on their faces. Ten teenage girls took the boards to sing. A cappella voices floated out from the stage. They sang a haunting folk tune with flawless harmonies and the crowd fell silent and reverent. I hoped the calm would transcend to those near me.
It didn’t.
Naomi turned back to Mari and spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t know what your plan is, but I will not have my husband—a judge, no less—seen flirting with the likes of you.”
“But it’s okay for you to…,” Tanya began.
Naomi interrupted. “You want to keep your job at the bank, you should shut your mouth right now.” She shot a hateful glare Tanya’s direction.
Tanya’s lips clamped shut and she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.
“What about me, Naomi? What will you do to me if I state the obvious?” I asked.
Naomi offered a malevolent smile. “You don’t think I know every member of the board of education? You don’t think I have pull with the administration at the school? Josie, haven’t we traveled down this road before?”
“So what about Doug?” Mari asked. Everyone looked at her. Mari’s quiet words almost harmonized with the voices on the stage.
I held my breath.
“Doug is no concern of yours.” Naomi’s face had turned a shade of red, which made her harsh rouge pale in comparison.
Mari turned to Doug. She was shaking and tears welled in her eyes, but she soldiered on. “Doug, why are you silent? Why can’t you say what you want?”
Naomi stepped between Doug and Mari and yelled, “Shut up!”
A second earlier, the choir of voices had been at a crescendo, but when Naomi yelled out, they’d hit a rest, a pause in the song for effect. Naomi’s words rang out like a blaring horn and the crowd craned their necks to look back at her.
She turned to see the faces glaring in her direction as if to say what’s the matter? Who dared to interrupt the darlings on the stage?
Naomi paled.
I covered my mouth so my laugh wouldn’t escape. The song resumed with robust enthusiasm, and the crowd returned their attention to the show.
Naomi turned, her vengeance pointed at Mari.
“How dare you embarrass me like this.” Her whisper pierced like a scream and she reached out her hands to grab Mari by the shoulders. Doug stepped in front of her and pushed Naomi back—not ha
rd, but hard enough for her to be repelled and stumble on her platform shoes.
“Doug.” Mari swung him around and stared into his eyes. “No.” She could never abide any kind of violence.
Doug was panting in anger at Naomi, but he melted in shame at Mari’s disappointed eyes.
“I’m sorry… it’s just…,” Doug tried. But Naomi pulled them apart and pushed them both in opposite directions.
“You’re both an embarrassment. How could you do this to me?” Naomi sneered at them in disgust.
Mari stood firm. “You embarrass yourself, Naomi. Your behavior is shameful. I have stayed silent for too many years. You are a mean, angry person and you’ve done horrible things to me and all my friends.”
Mari turned to Doug. “And God only knows what she’s done to you, Doug. It must be something terrible to make you tolerate her behavior. Why do you take it? Is it for the money?” Mari shook her head and echoed the confusion we’d all shared over the years.
Doug’s eyes filled with shame and tears spilled over his bottom lashes, trailing down his face. “Of course not.” His voice wavered. “At least not anymore. I tolerated her for the sake of my son. Someone had to care about him.” He glared at Naomi, then looked down, defeated. “For whatever good it was worth. We’ve lost him anyway.”
I knew as well as anyone how neglected the boy had been. Maybe Doug’s expression of defeat was, in truth, shame for not doing enough.
Doug’s small utterance held more weight than anyone could ever know, but the story of Douglas Talbot Jr. remained a mystery. He’d been a constant source of gossip in the small town. He’d moved away to go to college and never returned. Some said he’d been in jail, others said he partied with a dangerous crowd in Los Angeles. Others yet told a story of him as a hermit, a child molester, a womanizer, a thief. No end of suspicions seemed too extreme when it came to gossip about Naomi’s son. The only truth to any of the stories? He’d definitely left his family and never looked back.
“We will not discuss family matters in front of these people. I won’t hear of it.” Naomi grasped at the last straws of her authority, but it seemed to melt around her as she spoke.