A Bad Reputation

by Jane Tesh

  “What are we going to say?”

  He and Honor looked a lot calmer than I felt. “No problem, Mac.”

  Maybe the two of them were used to facing sudden potentially embarrassing situations, but my heart was doing strange little flutters as I went down the porch steps to greet my mother as she got out of her car. “Hello! What a surprise!”

  Mother is tall, thin, and elegant. She decided years ago that color was vulgar and she’d dress only in black and white. She stared up at the house. “Good lord, what it must cost you to keep this up! And it needs painting, Madeline, or are you planning on aluminum siding? Jerry, how are you, dear? What a monstrous house your uncle left you! Are you certain you want to live here?”

  Jerry kissed her cheek. “Hello, Cecille. Yes, I like the house very much. It looks better inside. This is a friend of mine, Honor Perkins. Honor, this is Mac’s mother, Cecille Maclin.”

  Honor stood. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, sweet as pie.

  They shook hands.

  “Do you also work at the theater, Miss Perkins?”

  I could tell Honor was glad for an opening. “Yes, exactly.” She glanced at Jerry for a clue. “We’re doing a great show.”

  “Oklahoma,” he said.

  “What part do you play?” Mom asked.

  I couldn’t help her there, and before Jerry could fill in, she said, “Oh, I’m the mother.”

  I’m not sure if Oklahoma has a mother, but fortunately, Mom’s knowledge of musical theater isn’t vast. “How nice.”

  “Can I carry anything for you?” Jerry asked.

  “I just brought my overnight bag.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mother’s idea of an overnight bag was a large suitcase and a garment bag, which Jerry hauled upstairs. Once inside, she was a bit mollified by the redecorated living room. She inspected the white sectional sofa, moved one of the blue accent pillows a fraction, and nodded to herself. I expected her to run a finger along the mantel in search of dust.

  “I see you have Blue Moon Garden displayed, Madeline. Did you design the room around those colors?”

  “Jerry and I both like blue, so it was an easy choice.”

  “I certainly didn’t expect anything this elegant. It’s too bad the outside of this house looks like a country store.”

  “I think it has charm.”

  She gave the painting another long look. “What have you done lately?”

  “I’ll show you my studio after a while. Come have a look at the kitchen. We’ve finished in there, too.”

  The kitchen met with her approval, and she had to agree the view of the fields was pleasant, “If you like that kind of thing.” She peered out the back windows. “Is this friend staying here? I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “No, she just stopped by for a short visit.” The shorter the better.

  “Now what about this gallery, Madeline? When can I see it?”

  “I’m afraid there’s been a little problem,” I said. “The owner’s been murdered, so the gallery’s closed.”

  It was typical of my mother that she thought of her own concerns first. “You mean I came all the way over here, and it’s not open? You could’ve called me.”

  “It’s just thirty minutes, and I’m glad you could visit.”

  Then she realized what I’d said. “The owner’s been murdered? You don’t mean Wendall Clarke?”

  “Yes, and I’ve been hired to solve the murder.”

  “Good heavens. So the gallery’s closed permanently? What happened?”

  “Someone attacked him behind the gallery. That’s all we know right now.”

  “Here in this little town? I wouldn’t think anything goes on.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I wish you’d give up this idea of being a detective, Madeline. Not only is it ridiculous, it’s dangerous.”

  I didn’t want her to get started. “Let me give you the tour, Mom.”

  Jerry met us at the top of the stairs. He must have done a quick check of our bedroom. I didn’t remember if I’d made the bed, but the blue comforter with its pattern of clouds was neat and straight, the pillows in place, and any dirty clothes had been scooped up and put in the hamper. “Cecille, we haven’t done all the bedrooms yet, but this is our room, and yours is next to it. I hung your garment bag in the closet.”

  “Thank you. Now where is the art studio?”

  “Right here, Mom.”

  She stepped into the room. “Well…Well, you’ve done quite a lot.”

  As she peered at each painting, I exchanged a glance with Jerry. He grinned and rubbed his fingers together in the sign for money. I nodded. That was coming up, for certain.

  “Have you sold any paintings, Madeline?”

  “All of these are commissions, except the one I did of Jerry.”

  “If you’d spend more time on your art, you’d probably sell more. How on earth did you afford all the repairs?”

  “Jerry’s brother gave him some money.”

  This brought a gleam to her eye. “And you accepted it, Jerry?”

  “For the house, yes.”

  “Madeline tells me you’re the music director at the theater. I’m glad you’ve found a job you like.”

  I’m glad you’ve found a job was what she meant. Jerry grinned. “I’ve become quite the settled married man. You ladies come downstairs and let me fix you some lunch.”

  Mom said she’d already eaten, but would love some tea. Honor joined us in the dining room. I could tell she was having a fine time making up stories about her non-existent theater career, and Jerry went right along with her tall tales. However annoyed I was at her, she kept Mom entertained, so Mom wasn’t getting in more digs about the house, my agency, or my artwork.

  After lunch, Honor said she had to get to the theater for an extra rehearsal. “Jerry, there’s one song in particular you need to hear.”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  “It’s the refrain that’s kind of tricky.”

  “Believe me, I’ll take care of it.”

  Mom didn’t see me roll my eyes at him to express my opinion of all the double talk. Honor thanked me for lunch and told Mom again it was a pleasure meeting her. Jerry walked her to the door and must have also walked her to her car because in a few minutes, I heard her drive off. I assumed he told her where she could lay low. Alaska would be a great choice.

  Jerry returned to the dining room. “I think I’ll make some brownies for the kids.”

  Mom looked at him askance. “Kids?”

  “Jerry’s playmates,” I said. “Some neighborhood children. They come by after school.”

  “What for?”

  “To see what Jerry’s up to.”

  “Don’t they have other children to play with?”

  By the time the brownies were done and Denisha, Kennedy, and Austin arrived, Mom was still amazed. I made all the introductions.

  “Kids, this is my mother, Cecille Maclin. Mom, this is Denisha Simpson, Kennedy Marshall, and Austin Terrell.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Maclin. I see where Madeline gets her good looks,” Denisha said in her straightforward way.

  Mom was bemused. “Thank you.”

  “Jerry, has my mother called you yet?” Kennedy asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I wish she’d hurry up. Mrs. Norton wasn’t even there yesterday, and Mom wasn’t very happy about it.”

  This caught my attention. “Kennedy, when was your piano lesson?”

  “It wasn’t mine. It was Reagan’s. Mom took her over there at her usual time, which is four o’clock, and she waited and waited, but nobody was home, and Mrs. Norton didn’t answer her phone. Mom left a message, but Mrs. Norton didn’t call back until al
most seven.”

  Larissa had been at the two o’clock meeting and left soon after. She told me she came back to the gallery after four. “Did she explain why she missed Reagan’s lesson?”

  Kennedy shook her head. “No, she didn’t, and Mom got mad and said if she couldn’t at least call to tell her she wasn’t going to be there, then maybe we’d find another teacher. So I don’t know why she hasn’t called you yet, Jerry.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “If that’s what your mother wants to do, she’ll get around to it.”

  All Mom heard from our conversation was “piano lessons.” “That would be an excellent way to supplement your income,” she told Jerry.

  “We’ll see.” He knew as well as I that Larissa would be even more put out with him if he started taking her students away.

  Austin asked Jerry if he’d bought a Wow System yet, which involved a lengthy explanation for Mom. By the time the kids had eaten and exhausted their supply of questions and discussions about the various games you could play on the Wow, Mom was looking even more dazed.

  “Tell you what,” Jerry said to them. “Why don’t you guys come to Parkland with me and help me pick out the best model? Call your folks and ask them.”

  I handed Austin my phone so he could call his mother. Then Denisha called her aunt, and Kennedy called her mother. All three were granted permission, which sent them into orbit.

  “The Wow 300 has Extreme Bowling,” Austin said. “You should get that one.”

  “But they’re coming out with Wow 350 next month,” Kennedy said. “Maybe he should wait.”

  “No, I want one now,” Jerry said. “Get in the car.” The kids ran and piled into the Mazda. “Be right back, Mac.”

  Mother watched him drive away. “Are those children here often?”

  “Every day.”

  “And their parents don’t mind?”

  “They’ve always played here. At least Austin and Denisha have. That’s how we met. They were running around in the secret passageways.”

  “Good heavens. I hope you’ve closed those off.”

  “No.”

  She eyed me. “Those children are here every day. Doesn’t that annoy you?”

  “No, I like them, and they keep Jerry occupied.”

  “I don’t see how you stand it.”

  Mom doesn’t have to say much to rile me, but the tone of her voice made it difficult for me to control my temper. “Oh, I’ve gotten used to it. In fact, Jerry and I are talking about having some children of our own.”

  It’s not often that my mother is speechless. She stared at me for a long moment and then said, “I didn’t think you wanted children. I thought that was the main reason you left Bill.”

  “Bill left me, Mom, and there were lots of reasons.”

  “But this is absurd, Madeline! I don’t believe you.”

  If I could’ve popped a baby out right then, I would’ve gladly done it. “I guess you don’t want to be a grandmother?”

  “That’s not the point. I’m just not sure you’re ready to be parents. You and Bill could’ve managed. He has three now, did you know? I believe I heard something about a fourth.”

  “Yes.” Bill always sent me an announcement.

  “But to raise a child here, with your limited funds and limited future? I don’t think so.”

  The limited funds I agreed with. The limited future was a slam. “Celosia’s a great place to raise children. It’s very safe.”

  “Excuse me, but since you’ve moved here, at least three people have been murdered. Four, if you count Wendall Clarke. I don’t call that very safe.” She leaned forward, hands clasped together. “I didn’t come out here just to see the gallery. I have a proposal for you, and if you’re smart, you’ll agree.”

  What was this?

  “I have friends on the Arts Council board in Parkland. In fact, I have quite a lot of clout in that organization. I can get you a position at the Parkland Museum of Fine Art. I also have connections at the English Manor Townhouses in my neighborhood, and there is a vacancy. You and Jerry could move in next week. He can commute to Celosia until this music director job is through. I can’t imagine it would last very long, anyway, and then we’ll see about finding him something suitable.”

  I realized my mouth was open. I took a breath. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a grown woman, a married woman, with a home and an occupation of my own.”

  “I’m only trying to help you.”

  “No, you’re trying to control me, which is what you’ve done since I was born, but those days are over.”

  “Madeline—”

  “Listen to me. Really listen. I hated those pageants, but I did them because it made you happy. What little girl doesn’t want to please her mother? Now I’m doing what makes me happy. I can’t be responsible for your happiness because you are never truly happy. Are you?”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  I was going to have to play dirty. “You’ve never said a word about my father. What did he do to make you so miserable?”

  She pushed back her chair and got up. “If the gallery’s closed, then there’s really no reason for me to stay, is there?”

  “Don’t go. Stay and explain this to me. I want to understand.”

  “You know your father left us when you were born. I had to take charge. I had to be in control of everything. Otherwise we would have had nothing.”

  “I’m glad you took care of us then, but you don’t have to take care of me anymore.”

  “I believe you’ve made that abundantly clear. I’m going home.”

  I wasn’t going to beg her to stay. I helped her carry her things to her car.

  True to form, she hadn’t given up. “For God’s sake will you stop fooling around with these murders? It’s not…” she groped for the right words and settled on “proper behavior.” I knew she wanted to add “for a young woman who might still become a pageant winner or a prominent artist.”

  “It’s what I want to do.”

  She looked at me as if to say “How did I raise such an unnatural daughter?” But she replied, “Just be careful.” Then for a moment, her guard was down, and I saw real pain in her eyes. “You’re all I have, you know.”

  I had to swallow a sudden lump of emotion. “I know.” She gave me a brief hug and got into her car. She drove back down the driveway. I sat down in a rocking chair and took another deep breath. This encounter with my mother had brought up some dark details. I’d known for some time that my mother’s marriage had gone off the rails, and she’d refused to have anything to do with men unless she called all the shots.

  In her own way, she really cares about you, I told myself. You can’t fault your mother for wanting to be in control. Isn’t that what you want to do? You’ve never seen any similarity to her before, but it’s pretty clear you inherited her insane determination to have things your way.

  That was going to change.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After a while, Jerry drove in. He took a large box out of the trunk of the car and carried it up the porch steps as the kids bounded around him.

  “Is that the famed Wow?”

  “It is. We’re going to set it up right away.”

  “Jerry got the advanced version,” Austin said. “It has extreme everything.”

  Jerry looked around. “Where’s your mom?”

  “She went back to Parkland.”

  He handed the box to Austin. “Go ahead and unpack it. I’ll be right there.” When Austin and Denisha had gone into the house, he turned back to me. “I thought if I got the kids and myself out of the way, you two could have a heart-to-heart.”

  “There was little heart involved. She had a grand plan, a job for me in Parkland, a townhouse for us, everything nice and neat and controlled. I had to go to the dark side and b
ring up my father.”

  “What did she say about that?”

  “I know she raised me on her own, and that was tough for her, but she’ll never understand that money doesn’t mean the same to me. I’ve got you and this house and I’m managing my own career. You’ve got your music and all your schemes, legal and otherwise. Mom never got satisfaction out of anything except my titles and tiaras. She never found out who she was and what she wanted.”

  “I take it she didn’t like all this psychoanalyzing.”

  “Three guesses why I have to be the queen of everything.”

  Jerry pretended to think. “Well, let’s see. You were born a princess, you learned from the best, and you’re just naturally bossy.”

  “I command you to kiss me.”

  “No problem, your highness.”

  One kiss led to two and then three, and there would have been many more except for a clamoring from the living room.

  “Jerry! Come on!”

  I sat on the sofa while Jerry and his assistants hooked up all the wires necessary to run the Wow on our TV. The kids argued fiercely over which game to play until Jerry said, “Let Mac decide.”

  I looked through the colorful instruction book and chose Extreme Dirt Biking, which was met with extreme approval. After watching the kids navigate the course, crashing and rolling, I went back to the porch to make some phone calls. My first call was to Flora.

  “I’m just checking to see how you’re doing.”

  She sounded okay. “Thank you so much, Madeline. I’m all right. I’ve just been going through Wendall’s things.”

  “Would you and your sister like to come over for dinner? Maybe take a little break from what must be a very sad job?”

  “That’s so sweet of you. I’ll see what she says and call you back.”

  Then I called Larissa and asked her what she did after she left the gallery.

  She was still defensive. “What do you mean, what did I do? I went home.”

  “You admitted you broke up Bea’s picture frames. I know you didn’t do that with anyone watching. When did you say you went back to the gallery?”

  There was a long pause. “Around four-thirty, maybe five o’clock.”