Henry's Sisters

by Cathy Lamb

  Parker had a smirk on his face, but his eyes widened like a startled turtle and he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed me and Janie standing in front of the windows.

  The three lawyer-stooges stopped behind Parker, the one right behind Parker colliding into him as he caught my eye.

  One of the lawyers, the one I immediately knew was ‘the boss,’ blinked rapidly and flushed when he saw Janie. Even Parker was shocked at her appearance. But only for a second.

  ‘What are you two doing here?’ Parker barked out.

  ‘We came to enjoy the circus,’ I said. ‘We’re hoping you get eaten by a lion!’

  Parker turned red and flushy.

  ‘We came because we simply can’t bear to miss out on any opportunity to be with you in an earthy, cosmic way,’ Janie said, smiling sweetly. ‘Your company being so pleasant, your personality so soothing.’

  One of his lawyers coughed into his hand.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ Parker seethed. ‘You two don’t belong here. It’s between me and Cecilia. You both owe me money to fix my car and, Isabelle, you still gotta pay my fiancée for her heels.’

  ‘Send the bill again,’ I drawled. ‘I know exactly where to shove it. It’s a hot, smelly place…’

  Cherie interrupted. ‘Gentlemen, the ladies aren’t leaving. Please, have a seat. Let’s remember to keep this civil and calm.’

  Cherie and Parker’s lead attorney sat across from one another. Parker’s lead attorney, the one who flushed like a fire engine when he saw Janie, was about forty-five. He was white and balding, at least six feet, two inches tall, and wore glasses. He was kind of handsome. The other two attorneys were in their thirties, stuffed into suits, one stocky like a water tower, the other gangly like Abe Lincoln.

  Cecilia and I were on Cherie’s left, Janie on her right. Parker sat right across from Cecilia and glowered. All of a sudden, he laughed. ‘I can’t believe I stayed married to you as long as I did.’

  One of his lawyers, the Water Tower, turned to him and said, ‘Parker, not now.’

  ‘I can’t believe I stayed married to you, either,’ Cecilia said, smiling. ‘Momma said you were a man with a small dick, physically and mentally. She warned me. So many times. I ignored her. She was right. My momma is always right.’

  Now, the part about Momma always being right was a lie. But the part about Momma thinking that Parker had a small dick physically and mentally was dead-on. Momma had said, ‘Parker will always think like a man with a small dick. Petty. Jealous. Mean. Close minded. He’s got short man’s complex on his groin, don’t forget it. I’m warning you, Cecilia, he’ll bring you grief.’

  ‘You’ve bemoaned Parker’s small penis throughout your marriage, Cecilia,’ Janie said, clasping her hands together, her voice curious. ‘And the unsturdiness that brought to your marriage bed, but I thought that Parker was on Viagra? No?’

  Parker was not happy. ‘I don’t need Viagra. You can ask Constance about that.’

  ‘Parker!’ the Abe Lincoln attorney snapped. ‘Settle down.’

  Now that made me raise my eyebrows. His own lawyer snapping at him?

  Parker settled back down, like a killer fish retreating into its shadowy cave.

  ‘All right, let’s get started,’ Cherie said. ‘Both of you, back off. Let’s leave less blood at this meeting than the last one. Cecilia is ready to settle. She wants the house.’

  ‘I already said that’s fine,’ Parker said, hitting his palms on the table. ‘No problem. She can buy out my half.’

  ‘No, she’s not going to buy out your half,’ Cherie said as if he were an unruly, bratty child. ‘The house is almost paid off and she wants it in its entirety. She will, however, agree to let you have your retirement account.’

  I heard the loaded pause in the conference room. The house was worth about $650,000. The retirement account that Parker had built up as a cheesy and slick but successful computer salesman was about $450,000.

  ‘That’s still an unfair split,’ Parker’s lead attorney, Bob, said. Bob was the balding guy. He was The Man in Charge. I had the distinct impression that poor Bob had been handling these messy matters for a long, long time.

  ‘Like hell it is,’ Cherie said. ‘Parker has his brand-new Corvette, he says he wants his other older model Corvette, which is still at the house, his tools, and other toys, including a big-screen TV. Plus, Cecilia is the main caregiver for the children. Surely, Parker, you want the kids to be able to stay in their childhood home?’

  Parker made some grumbling noises. Like a bear who has a blackberry bush stuck up his bottom.

  ‘In addition, Parker must agree to take all of his credit card debt with him. That includes the total amounts he built up on his cards while married to Cecilia and all the charges he’s billed since they separated.’

  ‘No way,’ Parker spat out between clenched teeth.

  ‘All of the charges were for you and Constance,’ Cecilia said. ‘I refuse to settle this divorce if I have to pay for your mai tais in Mexico and the Bahamas. We have separate cards. You take yours, I’ll take mine, fucker.’

  The balding attorney sighed. Cherie kicked Cecilia under the table. Cecilia did not object to the kick.

  ‘Also, there is the matter of child support and of Parker reimbursing Cecilia $30,000 for her to go back to school to get her master’s degree,’ Cherie said. ‘Cecilia took out a student loan and Parker needs to pay for that. If Parker agrees to pay for Cecilia’s master’s, she’ll drop the alimony.’

  Parker again protested, like a whining snake. ‘I am not paying for her to get a master’s degree. Ya got that? She’s a kindergarten teacher! You don’t need even half a brain for that. All she needs to know how to do is write the alphabet and sing a few goddamn songs, for goddamn’s sakes!’

  Bob The Man in Charge said, ‘Shut up, Parker.’

  ‘Do not say “goddamn” again, Parker,’ Abe Lincoln told him. ‘We’ve told you how we feel about that word.’

  Parker slapped his palms on the table.

  ‘Anything else?’ Bob The Man in Charge asked.

  ‘Yes. Parker will pay my legal fees and will put $1,000 each month into each girl’s college fund. In addition, he will pay $3,000 a month in child support.’

  The Man in Charge nodded. I noticed he was fiddling with his pen in a weird way, forward a few circles, back a few circles, forward a few times, back. Odd. The rhythm was so like Janie’s. ‘Can you give us a minute?’

  ‘Sure can.’

  We ladies all stood up and left the conference room, but not before Cecilia whispered loudly, ‘Having sex with Parker was like having sex with a pencil. Thin and pokey.’ And Janie said to Parker, ‘Remember when you made a pass at me at my houseboat? I couldn’t leave my home for days because as soon as I thought of your face I got diarrhoea. Yuck.’

  I didn’t do anything until I saw Parker smiling crudely at me, his eyes staring right at my boobs. I sidled right up to him as he leant back in his swivel chair and smirked. When I was eye to boob with him I moved zippity quick and tipped his chair right over.

  Parker somersaulted out backward, like a rag doll wearing a pimp suit, swearing as he went, and landed facedown.

  I smiled sweetly at the surprised attorneys and left.

  Bob The Man in Charge tried hard not to smile before he went back to his rhythmic circles.

  We headed down the hallway to Cherie’s office. She opened a little door behind a stack of books and flicked a switch.

  ‘Don’t ever tell anyone about this or I’ll get disbarred,’ she muttered.

  Like we would do something heinous like that, sneaky lady.

  Ah. Beautiful. We could hear every word the lawyers and Parker were saying. Every word.

  ‘Take the deal, Parker,’ The Man in Charge said. ‘You’re done. We’re done.’

  ‘You’re not going to get better than that.’ I knew it was Abe Lincoln speaking. ‘She gets the house, you get the retirement money. You got your cars and t
he TV. You make a lot of money. You’ll be fine.’

  ‘Hell, no!’ I heard him slap the table again. ‘I’m getting ripped off! Ripped off! And I sure as hell am not going to pay for that fat ass’s student loan.’

  I saw Cecilia flush. I wanted to kill Parker.

  ‘You won’t get better than this and all you’ll end up doing is dragging out the inevitable. I’ve been doing this for twenty years. Trust me,’ Bob The Man in Charge said.

  ‘But what about the credit cards?’ Parker’s voice sounded like a weak-willed weasel’s.

  I heard Bob The Man in Charge grunt. ‘Hey, Parker, you ran those up, they’re your cards, you signed each slip, I’ve seen ’em. She’s not going to agree to take on your and Constance’s Botox, lip plumpers, and colon flushings. Ever. A judge isn’t going to make her pay for them, either. They’re not generally sympathetic to people who cheat, go to Mexico with their girlfriends, and try to get the wife to split the cost.’

  Cherie’s eyebrows flew up.

  Parker swore. Always the tough guy. ‘But the child support! God! $3,000? Each month? It doesn’t take that much to raise kids.’

  ‘Yes, it does,’ The Water Tower said. ‘I have five kids. I handle the money in our house because my wife is too busy to do it. Your payment is based on a formula that the state of Oregon uses according to your income. You’re not going to wriggle out of that one, Parker, so give it up.’

  Parker swore again. ‘She’s like an albatross around my neck. She’s jealous. She’s a sick, manipulative, fat—’

  ‘We counselled you to settle more than nine months ago,’ Bob The Man in Charge said. ‘You have already paid us $35,000 in fees. You’re on the hook for another $10,000. You’re gonna pay Cherie’s fees, too. You can’t afford to not settle this. You got that, buddy? You can’t afford it. Get the divorce done, then go out and marry that woman. What’s her name again?’

  ‘Constance.’

  ‘Constance. Marry her.’

  ‘Yes, do go and marry Constance the colon flusher,’ Cecilia whispered. ‘Please do. Immediately.’

  ‘You’ve overcharged me—’

  ‘All charges deserved,’ Bob The Man in Charge drawled.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ We could hear Parker breathing heavily.

  ‘It means that you’re an asshole. You cheat on your wife with some bimbo—’

  ‘Don’t call her a bimbo,’ Cecilia whispered. ‘Don’t put any ideas in his head. He needs to marry the bimbo!’

  ‘Constance is not a bimbo,’ Parker said, but his voice wasn’t too convinced.

  ‘Constance is—’ Bob The Man in Charge laughed. ‘OK, Parker. We’re done.’

  ‘Cut my fees or I sue you, Bob. I’ll sue you for…for…’

  ‘For?’ Bob paused.

  I decided I liked Bob.

  ‘I’ll sue you. I’m not paying you a dime more.’

  ‘There isn’t an attorney in town who will take your case, Parker. Not a one. If you don’t have that money on my desk in thirty days I’ll attach your pay-cheque at that fancy business you work at so fast snot will fly out of your nose. Think your boss will like that?’

  Parker’s hands slapped against the table again. They had to be hurtin’.

  We were summoned in and tried not to laugh upon entry, although Cecilia was still boiling at the fat comments.

  I subtly raised my middle finger at Parker and waved it. Janie grinned, her face serene, amused.

  When we sat down, I saw her smiling at Parker, her fingers tapping the table, one, two, three, four. When he caught her gaze he said, ‘What?’ in this accusatory tone.

  ‘What?’ Janie said, pleasantly. She bit her lip. I knew her. She was already killing Parker again in her head for another book.

  ‘Why are you even here, Janie?’ Parker said. ‘Don’t you have someone to kill?’

  His lawyers tensed.

  ‘No, no, don’t worry,’ I said, with reassurance. I kicked Janie. She was gazing at Parker as if she adored him. She detests the guy as most of us would detest a tarantula attached to our nipple, but when she gets a plot going in her head, there’s no stopping her rampant, free-flowing joy.

  ‘Janie’s a crime fiction writer,’ I said.

  The face of Bob The Man in Charge settled into perplexed lines, but then his face cleared and he sat straight up. ‘Well, I’ll be darned!’

  I was surprised by his exclamation. Well, I’ll be darned?

  ‘You’re Janie Bommarito, aren’t you?’ He was delighted. A treasure had been found! ‘I can’t believe I didn’t put it together!’

  ‘Janie Bommarito!’ The Water Tower laughed. ‘We read your book Devon’s Scars for our office book club. It scared me so much I could only read it during the day. I even took a day off work to stay home and—’

  He clamped his mouth shut tight and lickety-split pleaded his case to Bob. ‘I mean, I was sick. I was bedridden sick. It was that day after the trial with the Mallorys—’

  Bob The Man in Charge hardly noticed, his excitement at the grand privilege of meeting Janie making him wriggle with unrestrained joy in his seat.

  ‘I’ve read all of your books. All of them. Some twice. I’ve already pre-ordered your next one, Melody’s Slashing, online. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Ms Bommarito. You are the only crime writer I read. I tend more towards reading the classics. Pride and Prejudice. Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights.’

  Now that stopped us all up a bit. This huge man loved Wuthering Heights? I would have thought he would be reading books on sharks.

  ‘You’re a classics lover!’ Janie breathed. ‘One of my hobbies is to collect early editions by the Brontë sisters!’

  ‘Are you serious?’ The Man in Charge gasped. ‘I do the same! Collector’s editions! I’ve created an English-style garden, too!’

  I thought Janie was going to faint. She put a hand to her chest.

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘I did!’ Bob’s smile reached ear to ear. ‘I’ve built stone walls, paths, fountains, a pond, a bridge, all to the period!’

  Janie gasped again. ‘Oh my goodness! My goodness!’ She leant forward, eyes shining. ‘Can I come and see it?’

  ‘It would be my deepest pleasure. I would be delighted. It would be my privilege.’ He inhaled, his fingers continuing the forward circle motion with his pen, only faster. ‘Could you bring part of your collection? It would be an honour—’

  ‘Yes, absolutely! We can look at them in the garden! It will be so authentic, so historical, so literary! I’ll bring my favourite teas!’

  My mouth dropped open. I tried to shut it. Was that Janie agreeing to go to a man’s house with her books and teas and tapping?

  The Man in Charge slid his card across the table, grinning, eyes twinkling like strobes. ‘I love tea! I’ll get the scones!’

  Now I thought Janie was going to keel over. A man who loved tea! Next we’d find out he loved Yo-Yo Ma.

  ‘Shit, Bob, shit!’ Parker protested. ‘Can we end the lovefest on the classics now? Could we? This is about my long-overdue divorce from the fat cow sitting over there who wants to suck me dry because she’s a jealous, vindictive, vengeful bitch!’

  Oh, I couldn’t help myself.

  I was up and out of my chair before I knew it and Parker was sprawled again on his face.

  ‘I apologise for helping to create a tense environment,’ I said, so polite, to the attorneys.

  ‘Apology accepted!’ Bob The Man in Charge grinned.

  No one helped Parker up.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Thinking we would kill two bloodsucking birds with one stone, we went to see Momma. She was soon to be discharged. She had battled an infection, then another one, but was getting better.

  She wasn’t pleased with life at the hospital.

  The doctors had the educations of water rats.

  One of the nurses was ‘the blackest person she’d ever seen. Never stops smiling.’ That nurse had brought h
er a crocheted shawl she’d made herself. I figured the woman was a saint to reach out to our grouchy momma like that. ‘I wear it to make her feel good.’ She sniffed. We pretended not to see the sheen in her eyes as she fingered that beautiful, colourful shawl.

  Momma would not take it off for weeks.

  She did not like the food. ‘It was made with dog food, probably, dead horses…’

  We kissed her, left.

  Sighed when we got in the car.

  We burnt Cecilia’s wedding dress in a bonfire on the back lawn after a typical Bommarito family dinner that night.

  We’d set the kitchen table with Grandma’s china and silverware and all the candles we had to celebrate Cecilia’s freedom. We put flowers in the coloured bottles from Momma’s collection and scattered them across the table. Cecilia brought over a huge pan of steaming lasagne, melted cheese layering the top. ‘Parker loved this lasagne. He said it was the only thing I did right. Too bad I never put arsenic in it.’

  I brought Bommarito’s Heavenly Cupcakes from the bakery designed in an Alice in Wonderland sort of way with colourful purple mushrooms and wildflowers.

  Velvet wore a green velvet dress and a pink flowered hat. ‘Remember, Cecilia, sugar, men are only for dessert, not the main course. Think: treat. Not: meat. You have that, child?’

  Kayla wore a Jewish beanie and carried the Old Testament. Riley wore a bright red headband over her hair and discussed all she understood about quantum physics while plucking a few hairs out.

  Henry wore a shirt with a picture of a basset hound on it, a Batman cape, and a black mask. ‘Ta da!’ he yelled when he jumped into the kitchen, holding the cape to his nose. ‘I Bat Man! Yeah, yeah! I save you, Is! I am hero!’

  Grandma prayed, ‘Dear God, this is Amelia. Planes should be piloted by women. Men will crash them. They have pea brains. Except my co-pilot. You screwed up on them. Amen. Dear God.’

  Our conversation at the table was eclectic as usual: the finding of human poop in a cave in southern Oregon that dates back 15,000 years, Neptune (Why is it blue?), Riley’s use of ‘excessive force’ in dodgeball at school and how she was suspended for two days.