When I didn’t offer him any more information, he laughed and shook his head. “All right then. A woman of mystery. I like that.”
23
The next morning, Grandma and I packed our suitcases.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay another day?” I asked. “We didn’t even have a chance to relax.”
“I’m sure,” Grandma said. “I’m ready to go to Lou’s memorial and then head home.”
I stopped packing and looked up at her. “And stop by Thomas’ house on the way out of town, right?”
She sighed. “Yes, we’ll stop by his house on the way out.”
Grandma had been putting off that visit since we got here, even though it was the whole purpose of making this road trip. Even if she decided not to see him, I didn’t think the other grannies would let her leave without stopping by his house.
We met the other grannies in the lobby, and we all turned in our keys. We said goodbye to Paulette, and Hattie ran outside to get one more look at the koi pond. Minutes later, we were pulling out of the hotel parking lot, leaving the charming little place behind us.
We grabbed a quick lunch and pulled up at the theater thirty minutes before the memorial was about to start. We parked next to Roxy’s car and made our way inside.
Archer was standing at the door when we walked in, and he gave Grandma a big hug. I noticed how tightly Grandma held on when she hugged him back. They were already preparing to say their goodbyes.
Willie walked over and threw his arm around Greta, and Virginia’s face fell. I was just about to ask about Billie when he walked through the door. Virginia squealed like a high schooler and threw her arms around him. He was clearly happy to see her too.
Willie gave his brother a hug. “I see you got cleaned up after you left the station this morning.”
Billie laughed. “I never needed a shower so bad in my life!”
Archer clapped Billie on the back. “I’m glad you’re back. And I heard that all the charges against you have been dropped.”
Casius walked up to the door, and I held it open for him while he hobbled in on his crutches.
“I’m so sick of these things,” he said. “Do you know how difficult it is to perform with crutches?”
“I can’t believe you’re still performing,” I said to him.
He just smiled. “The show must go on.”
Archer took Grandma’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go to my dressing room and practice our duet.”
As they walked away, Hattie and Irene decided they wanted to practice too. Billie said they could use his dressing room since it was no longer a crime scene. He walked away with them, and Greta and Virginia followed behind. That left Casius and me standing in the lobby of the theater.
“Have you talked to Kodiak today?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “No, I left a message and then sent him a text. I’m sure he’ll be here, but I don’t know what kind of shape he’ll be in.”
I felt so bad for him. He really liked Madison.
“So, are you actually headed home today?” he asked me.
I sighed. “Yeah, I wish we could stay another day.”
“I do too,” he admitted.
I looked at him, the mysterious magician with dark eyes and an even darker persona. But all I really saw was a kindhearted, misunderstood man.
“What would another day even do for us?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just another day to put off saying goodbye, I suppose.” He nudged me and smiled. “It was nice having you around.”
“Thanks.” I laughed. “It was nice to be around.”
He was quiet for a minute. “You know, if you ever figure out who you are and what you want, and if you ever think it might be some dusky and risky fellow, you know how to get ahold of me.”
Now I really laughed. “Well, no one is as dusky and risky as you are.”
We were having the memorial service in the same room where Willie, Billie, and Lou always performed because Archer said it felt more personal than his big stage and huge auditorium. Casius and I took our seats and listened to Roxy Rococo practicing her version of “Amazing Grace.” I had never heard it sung with a level of edginess to it, but for some reason, it felt very fitting.
Kodiak startled us when he came up and sat down next to Casius.
“You okay, man?” Casius whispered to him.
Kodiak shrugged. He didn’t look okay.
Casius reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. “Here,” he said, handing it to Kodiak. “In case you ever need it.”
“Is this your number?” Kodiak smiled. “You’re finally giving it to me?” He waved it in the air to show me. “I can actually call the legend himself instead of having to call his assistant to see if he needs a ride somewhere.”
“Abuse that privilege, and I’ll change my number,” Casius laughed.
Seeing them talking and teasing each other made my heart happy. Kodiak was going to be okay. And Casius was too. Even though they had known each other for a long time, they were finally becoming friends.
Greta and Virginia came and sat next to me, and soon, others were filing in. I recognized the Seven Sven as the family took their seats behind us.
Hattie and Irene came out and asked us to save some seats for their Mennonite friends. “They’re really excited about seeing us perform,” Hattie said. “Plus, they feel like they’re getting a free concert. They’re a thrifty bunch.”
Irene looked at Virginia, who was sitting at the end. She motioned at the empty seats next to her. “Can they sit by you? Will you make them feel welcomed?”
“Of course,” Virginia said. “We’re excited to meet them.”
When Hattie and Irene walked away, Virginia turned toward us. “Can you believe those two? What a change in just a few days. I wonder how long it will last?”
Greta laughed. “I bet you we don’t even make it out of Missouri.”
We all made small talk for the next several minutes as more people came in and took their seats. The Mennonites came in, and Virginia and I jumped up to bring them up to our row. Samuel and Amos, along with Samuel’s daughter and son-in-law and their oldest daughter, Emily. As soon as she saw me, she blushed, probably remembering the last time we saw each other. Maybe I would have to explain to her that I didn’t normally parade around in leopard outfits, or maybe it would just be better to let that go.
The lights flickered to let everyone know that the memorial service would soon be starting. Archer Nash took the stage, and the crowd went silent. He started the service with a prayer, and then Grandma walked on the stage and sat on a stool in front of a microphone. “We’re going to sing one of Lou’s favorites. As some of you know, Lou was a fan of James Taylor. If you know the words to ‘You Can Close Your Eyes,’ you can sing along with us.”
Archer started to play the guitar, and Grandma sang. I had never heard the song before, but the many performers in the room couldn’t help themselves. None of them upstaged Grandma, but they sang along quietly.
Roxy Rococo came out and did her version of “Amazing Grace” and “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
Then it was Hattie and Irene’s turn. Just like they had the night before, they sang beautifully. I even saw Samuel wipe a tear from his eyes when they sang “How Great Thou Art.”
Then Archer took the stage again. “Lou performed on this stage for many years and he brought a lot of laughter and happiness to people. But he was human, and he made a lot of mistakes. It’s a shame that he isn’t here to rectify what he has done, but I want to apologize to any of you he may have hurt or misled.”
I was surprised by his apology, but I knew that it meant something to Roxy and maybe to anyone else Lou had scammed.
“But we’re not here today to focus on that,” Archer said. “We’re here to give Lou a Branson sendoff he would’ve been proud of. So, let’s sing so loud that the ole coot can hear us no matter where he is.”
Willie and Billie took the s
tage and led us all through a singalong. We clapped and sang and stomped. It was the most joyful memorial I had ever been to. And when it was over, I was exhausted. I felt like I had just done an hour’s worth of cardio . . . which I probably had.
“You guys were amazing,” I said to Willie and Billie when we were back in the lobby, once it was over.
“Thanks,” Billie said. “Lou made some bad choices, but we loved him like a brother.”
Hattie and Irene said goodbye to their Mennonite friends, and I watched as Greta and Virginia started their goodbyes with Willie and Billie. Grandma and Archer were talking in the corner, and I stood here alone.
Casius and Kodiak came up next to me.
“I don’t like goodbyes,” Casius said. “I’m much better with disappearing acts.”
I hugged him. “No more slipping in dog pee. You take care of yourself.”
He laughed but looked a little hurt. “You act like you’re never going to see me again.”
Kodiak put his arms around me and hugged me tight. “You and those grandmas are crazy enough to make it work out here. You sure you don’t want to give it a try?”
“I’m sure,” I said, still hugging him. “It’s time to go back.”
He let go of me. “Well, I hope you keep in touch. I think Casius especially would like that, wouldn’t you, Cas . . .” Kodiak turned around, but Casius was gone. We looked around the near empty lobby, but he wasn’t there.
Casius never even said goodbye. He really was good at disappearing acts.
24
We drove in silence along the twisty country road. The only noise was the occasional directions from Virginia’s GPS.
I looked out the window, up at the cloudy sky, as giant raindrops began to fall. Soon, the windshield wipers were swiping rapidly, and it seemed to add to the anxiety in the car.
Not only did the grannies each say goodbye to people who had become special to them, but Grandma was about to come face-to-face with someone special from her past.
It felt like we had been driving forever when we finally pulled onto a long driveway that led up to a house sitting in a clearing of trees. The rain had let up enough that no one grabbed an umbrella as we walked up to the front porch.
“You’re sure this is the address?” Grandma asked. “I expected something more . . . opulent.”
The outside of the country house was neatly kept, with plants on the front porch and hanging baskets of impatiens swaying from the afternoon storm.
“It’s the address we found online,” Virginia said. “Would you like to ring the doorbell or should I?”
Virginia wasn’t giving Grandma a chance to back out.
“I’ll do it,” Grandma said, stepping forward.
She hit the button, and we could hear it ring throughout the house. A tiny dog started barking, and we heard a woman shush it from just beyond the door.
My heart was pounding. I couldn’t even imagine what Grandma’s must be doing.
A woman who looked to be in her late forties or early fifties opened the door, holding a fluffy black dog. She smiled but seemed a little confused as she greeted us.
Grandma cleared her throat. “Is Thomas here?” she asked.
The woman’s smile dropped. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he passed three months ago. Were you friends of his?”
We stood there stunned, not able to answer her question.
Then she looked at Grandma and squinted a bit. “You’re not Geraldine, are you?”
“I am,” Grandma answered, her voice cracking. “How did you know?”
The woman smiled again and invited us in. The home was bright and cheerful and looked immaculately clean. She pointed to the living room furniture, which was well worn with crocheted pillows tucked in the corners. Grandma, Greta, and I sat on the couch while Hattie and Irene took the love seat. The woman went to the kitchen and brought out two chairs from the table—one for her and one for Virginia.
The woman sat down. “I can’t believe you’re here. Mother would’ve flipped out if she had gotten to meet you.”
“Mother?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” the woman said. “She was a big fan.”
I think we were all a little confused.
She had put her dog down to get the chairs, and now the little thing wanted back up in her lap. She scooped it up. “This is my dog Beanie, and my name is Laura. I’m Thomas’ and Eva’s youngest daughter.”
We went around the room and introduced ourselves.
“How would your mother know my grandmother?” I asked her.
“Oh!” she said, popping up from her chair. “I’ll show you.”
She disappeared through a door and came back with a photo album. She handed it to Grandma and took her seat back on the wooden kitchen chair. Beanie squirmed to get comfortable in her lap again.
“Go ahead,” she smiled. “Open it.”
As Grandma did, Laura went on to explain its contents. “Mother knew all about you and Daddy. She was always kind of obsessed.” She laughed. “Not in some creepy way, but she was fascinated with your life and how close she came to knowing a celebrity. She kept up with your career and kept this scrapbook.”
Grandma flipped through pictures of her and newspaper articles.
“It used to drive Daddy nuts.” Laura chuckled. “But it was like one of Mother’s hobbies.”
Grandma finished flipping through the book, then passed it to us so we could look through it.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Grandma admitted. “Did she know I was married to him for a short while?”
“Yes,” Laura said sadly. “And I’m so sorry for how you were treated. Mother always said you paved the way for her. Maybe that’s why she admired you so much.”
“Did he know they had a daughter together?” I asked her, and the look on her face was a dead giveaway that she didn’t.
“I had no idea,” she said. “Are you any relation to her?”
“She’s my mother.”
Laura jumped from her seat again, and poor Beanie yelped in surprise. Laura ran over to me and pulled me to my feet. “That means we’re related! I would be your aunt!” She threw her arms around me and held me tight.
Up until that moment, I was only thinking about how this affected Grandma Dean. I hadn’t thought about me potentially meeting family for the first time.
She let go. “I’m so sorry. I get a little over excited sometimes.” She looked us over. “I still can’t believe that you’re here.”
She walked over to an end table and pulled out more photo albums, and instead of taking a seat on her chair, she sat on the coffee table facing us. She opened her book. “Here are Mother and Daddy on their wedding day.”
We looked at the date. “That was just a year after he was forced to leave me,” Grandma said sadly. “I was still thinking I could win him back. I had no idea he was already remarried.”
I felt so bad for Grandma. This visit wasn’t giving her the kind of closure I had hoped it would.
“He was devastated, you know,” Laura told her. “Mother told me about how they met. She worked at a little restaurant in town, and he would come in every day and sit in the corner and just stare outside. Finally, one day Mother got up enough courage to talk to him about why he was there, and he told her he hoped that one day you’d walk by.”
Grandma’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know if it makes you feel any better, but I don’t think he ever stopped caring about you. Even though he would complain every time Mother pulled out that scrapbook and added to it, he always had to look at the picture or article and see what she was putting in there.”
“If he cared so much, then why didn’t he come after me?” Grandma asked.
Laura sighed. “I think he looked at your moving to Europe as you moving on. He didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness.”
“I don’t understand something,” Greta chimed in. “I don’t mean to upset you or
anything, but how is it that Geraldine wasn’t good enough for your father, and yet your mother was? It wasn’t like she was royalty. She worked at a restaurant.”
Thankfully, Laura didn’t act like the question upset her at all. “Well,” she began, “after you left the country, Daddy and his mother had a big falling out. And when he decided to marry my mother, his own mother gave him an ultimatum—leave her or give up any right to the family business. He decided not to let his mother live his life for him anymore, so, he gave it all up.”
“Really?” Grandma asked. “He actually walked away from her and the money?”
“Yep,” Laura answered. “He moved down here to be closer to my mother’s family, and he opened up his own little shoe store. It did pretty well, enough to take care of all of us. My parents owned their own home and shared one car. We lived a pretty simple life, but I have so many wonderful memories.”
“What ever happened to Thomas’ mother?” I asked. “Did she ever apologize or come around and try to make things right?”
Laura shook her head. “Never. I never even met her. She died about ten years ago, and Daddy had been completely cut out of her will, just like she promised.”
“What a horrible woman,” Virginia said, and Laura agreed.
“So, what happened to Thomas?” Grandma asked sadly. “How did he die?”
“Heart attack,” Laura said. “Mother passed away last year, and he was just never the same. My brothers and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he joined her. They were always inseparable.”
“Well,” Grandma said to her, “it looks like they lived a good life together.”
“They did,” Laura said, standing and taking her place back in her chair. “But I think Mother was always a little jealous of yours.”
“Mine?” Grandma asked.
“Oh yes,” Laura said. “Daddy never went anywhere. If he took a vacation day, he spent it in the yard. Would you believe we never went on a single trip during my childhood? I think Mother lived through you and your adventures. She would always beg him to take her somewhere, but he would say ‘I spent half my life trying to find home. Why would I leave it?’”
Road Trip (Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 13