by Cathy Holton
“Go ahead and get it out,” Lavonne said. “You'll feel better.”
Eadie got up and went to the sink to wet down a paper towel so Nita could clean her face. “Does Loretta know?” she said, flipping the faucet on.
“I wasn't going to tell her but then one of daddy's old cronies down at the sheriff's department told him and now she knows. She's on her way over here now.”
“Oh, Lord,” Eadie said. “Is she armed?”
“Most likely. But Virginia's in Florida for another week so she can't shoot her, at least not until next Friday.”
“That won't stop her from shooting out Virginia's windows or maybe taking a few potshots at the Mercedes.”
Nita hadn't thought of that. “Shit,” she said.
“If I were you, I'd do my best to talk her out of any gunplay,” Lavonne said. “The judge in your custody case might not take kindly to your mother taking potshots at Virginia and her belongings.”
“Lavonne's right,” Eadie said, sitting back down. “Let's try to talk her out of shooting Virginia until after the hearing.”
The refrigerator rattled and hummed in the background. Nita stared despondently at her shot glass. She felt numb. She felt like she might be frozen inside and she didn't want to be here, sitting in the kitchen with Eadie and Lavonne talking revenge. Anger was sure to follow, flaring in her breast and melting the cold hard lump that had formed around her heart, and then she'd have no choice but to feel deeply what she'd been avoiding all day—the loss of her daughter and her husband. “The truly ironic thing is I'd actually begun to feel sorry for Virginia.” Nita grimaced and shook her head, ashamed of her own naïveté. “I learned all that stuff about her childhood and I felt sorry for her. I trusted her the way I never trusted her when I was married to Charles.”
Eadie said, “What stuff about her childhood?”
“I convinced myself she wasn't really a bad person, deep down inside.”
“What stuff?” Eadie frowned and looked at Lavonne, who shrugged. “What do you know about Virginia's childhood that we don't know?”
Nita got up and went into the bedroom to get her notebook while Eadie poured another round of drinks. Nita came back out and handed the notebook to Lavonne. “Read the entries circled in red. Those are the ones I took down from Leota Quarles.” Lavonne read them aloud and when she was finished, she laid the opened notebook down on the table. No one said anything. The moon came up and pressed itself against the window screen like a ghostly presence. Lavonne stared at the notebook, an expression of bemused astonishment on her face.
“So Virginia knew about the Indian artifacts buried on the island all along,” she said in a quiet voice. She picked up the notebook and read aloud, “Miss Virginia never said a word, she just clipped the article and took it up and put it in her little cigar box where she kept all her other treasures since she was a little girl, the pottery pieces and spear points she'd dug up on Big Ridge, the corsage she'd worn to her first cotillion, all her love letters from Hampton Boone.”
Eadie said, “I'll bet she even called the state herself. I'll bet she's behind the injunction that shut the job site down. She knew Jimmy Lee didn't have the money to invest. She knew he'd have to go to Nita, and once she figured Nita's bank account was drained, she called the authorities.”
“Oh my God,” Nita said as the truth slowly dawned on her.
Lavonne whistled and shook her head. “And I'll bet Redmon didn't know about the Indian artifacts. He wasn't in on the plan. He cares too much about his pride and his money to let himself get strung out like that because of some revenge scheme Virginia cooked up.” She shook her head solemnly and looked from one to the other. “Which means Virginia was willing to screw over her own husband just to get even with you, Nita.”
The color drained out of Nita's face. On the wall behind her head, the clock ticked oppressively.
“Damn,” Eadie said finally. “The woman's got balls.” She lifted her glass and Lavonne lifted hers too.
“She's a Kudzu Debutante and doesn't even know it,” Lavonne said. She tossed her drink back and grimaced. “I hate to say this, maybe it's the tequila talking, but I'm starting to feel a certain grudging admiration for Virginia. If the woman could just learn how to channel her energies for good instead of evil, who knows what she might accomplish?”
Eadie nodded her head in agreement. “I hear you,” she said. “We're talking world domination here. We're talking CEO of any major corporation in America or, hell, who knows, maybe even postmaster general.”
Nita was not amused. She gave them a quick dark glance and then shifted her eyes again to her shot glass. “Excuse me if I can't feel any admiration for the woman who just stole my child.”
“Of course you can't,” Lavonne said, putting her arm around Nita and patting her shoulder.
Eadie said, “Hold on a minute.” She sat up straight, the trembling light from the tequila bottle reflecting in her eyes. “Virginia was in love with Trevor's dad. That means, if they'd married, she could have been my mother-in-law, Nita, not yours.” She shuddered and took a long drink and then set her glass down on the table. “And I thought Maureen was bad,” she said.
“No, no,” Lavonne, the logical one, said. “That would never have happened, because if Virginia and Hamp had had children, then they wouldn't have had Trevor. Trevor could only have come from Maureen and Hamp, not Virginia and Hamp.”
Nita looked at her glumly and lifted her glass.
Eadie got up and began to pace the floor. Pacing helped her to focus. Another thought occurred to her and she stopped suddenly and said, “Hey, you don't think Virginia and Hamp carried on after they were married do you? You don't think they had an affair later on?”
“Let's ask Loretta,” Lavonne said, hearing Loretta's car in the drive. Headlights flared suddenly through the kitchen window and then dimmed. “She'd know.”
“Let's not do anything to get her any more riled up than she already is,” Nita warned. “In fact, let's try to mention Virginia as little as possible.” She got up to get another shot glass out of the cupboard.
“You're right,” Eadie said, moving her glass to the middle of the table so Lavonne could pour another round. “Let's just offer Loretta a drink and try to get her calmed down. We can figure out what to do later.”
Lavonne poured the drinks and then put the cap back on the bottle. “You might want to make sure Loretta's unarmed before you offer her tequila,” she said.
“Good thinking,” Eadie said.
The back door banged opened and Loretta stalked in. Her hair stood up around her head in stiff peaks and her face was the color of dried blood. She was wearing a bathrobe and slippers made to look like Tweety Bird.
Nita put her hands up. “Now calm down, Mama,” she said.
Loretta scowled and swung her head back and forth. “What in the hell's going on?” she said.
“If you'll calm down and take a seat, I'll tell you.”
Loretta stomped over to the table, her slippers snapping at her heels like a pack of angry Chihuahuas. She yanked a chair out and sat down.
Eadie said, “You don't have anything in your pockets do you, Loretta?”
“Like what?” Loretta growled.
“Like a handgun.”
“No. Why?”
Eadie relaxed and poured her a drink. “We wanted to make sure you weren't armed before we plied you with tequila. We wanted to make sure you hadn't planned on going over to Virginia's and shooting up the place.”
Loretta tossed her drink back and set the shot glass down on the table. “I hadn't thought of it, but now that you mention it, that's a damn fine idea.”
“Good job,” Lavonne said to Eadie.
Loretta said, “You got any limes?”
“No, Mama, I'm fresh out.”
“Where's Jimmy Lee?” Loretta said. “I didn't see his truck in the driveway.”
“He's gone,” Nita said. “And Logan's gone to get a hamburger with his f
riends.”
Nita told her everything. While she talked, Loretta sucked her top lip and stared at the shot glass in her hand. If Loretta had been the kind who liked to say “I told you so,” she could have had a field day with Nita. But “I told you so” wasn't Loretta's style. She listened quietly and when Nita finished, Loretta leaned over and hugged her fiercely for several minutes. When she sat back, Nita's eyes were moist.
“I'm disappointed in Jimmy Lee,” Loretta said, letting Eadie pour her another drink. “I would have thought he had more backbone than to skip town when you needed him most.” Loretta had the gift of speaking what everybody else was thinking.
Eadie said, “Virginia pretty much fixed it that he wouldn't be able to hold his head up from shame. I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't sabotaged Nita's marriage on purpose.” She ignored Lavonne, who shot her a warning glance. She'd always liked Jimmy Lee and didn't like to see him blamed without at least sticking up for him a little bit. Even though he shouldn't have run off like he did.
Loretta nodded fiercely as if this thought had occurred to her, too. “What are we going to do about that old buzzard?” she said. “What are we going to do about Virginia?”
Lavonne said, “What can we do?”
Eadie said, “We're open to suggestions.”
Loretta shook her head ominously and looked at her glass. “I don't know,” she said. “You girls are pretty smart and what you did to get back at the husbands before was pretty clever. But going up against the husbands was one thing; going up against Virginia is something else entirely. Charles Broadwell couldn't drive a nail into a snowbank, but his mother's two shades meaner than the devil himself. We better be ready for trouble if we're going up against her.”
“What do you mean, we? Look, Mama, I want you to let me handle this,” Nita said, putting her hand on Loretta's arm. “I've hired Rosebud Smoot and she says it'll take time and money but eventually I'll get Whitney back.”
“The courts take too long,” Loretta said, her stiff little curls twitching. She poured herself another drink. “Just say the word, Juanita Sue, and I'll take care of things my own way.” The way she said it left no question as to her intent.
Eadie looked interested. She leaned over and rested her chin on her palm. “How would you do it, Loretta?”
Loretta tossed back her drink, grimaced, and set the glass down. “Pig sticker to the heart,” she said.
Eadie and Lavonne snickered softly. Nita watched them with a sullen expression.
“All I'm saying,” Loretta said, “is you better have a backup plan in case the courts don't work.”
“I trust Rosebud,” Nita said stubbornly. “I have faith in justice.”
“Justice?” Loretta snorted. “How much justice are you going to get in a court of law when Virginia can afford the best legal counsel in the state?”
Eadie and Lavonne stopped snickering. This thought had already occurred to both of them. “Let me handle it my way,” Nita said tersely.
Loretta played with her glass and frowned. “When's the hearing?”
Nita shook her head. “I don't think it's a good idea for you to show up for that, what with your violent temper and all.”
Loretta drew herself up to her full seated height, which might have been all of four-foot-two. She watched her daughter steadily. “She's my grandbaby and you're my child and I'll be damned if I'll let you go into that courtroom without me.”
Nita sighed. She spread her hands on the table like she was trying to bear up under a weight that was too heavy to carry. Her mother had been fighting her battles for her all her life and it didn't look like she was ready to relinquish that post anytime soon. “Two weeks,” Nita said. “August eleventh. And just so you know, there's a metal detector at the door so don't be getting any ideas about handguns and pig stickers and vigilante justice.”
Loretta smiled fiercely and lifted her glass. “Give me credit for more sense than that,” she said.
“I have faith in Rosebud,” Nita said. “I have faith in justice.”
“If I was to punch Virginia's ticket to the hereafter,” Loretta said grimly, “I sure as hell wouldn't do it in front of an audience.”
VIRGINIA SAT UNDER A BEACH UMBRELLA SIPPING A MAI TAI AND watching the cabana boys scurry about carrying trays of tropical drinks. Far out in the pale green waters of the placid gulf, Whitney and Carlisle lay on a couple of rubber floats, their bodies undulating with the gentle waves like a couple of sea anemones washed up after a storm. Virginia stretched her pale legs along the lounger and laid her head back. Her straw hat tipped slightly above her forehead. The sound of the lapping waves was hypnotic, and after a while Virginia closed her eyes.
It was quiet here at this end of the beach, which is one of the reasons she liked coming here. Farther up, closer to Panama City, the budget motels and sprawling condominiums that catered to college students and the middle class crowded the beach with throngs of noisy tourists. But here, in the secluded private beach in front of The Beau Mer Resort, all was quiet and elegant. A long line of brightly colored beach umbrellas stretched along the white sand, each one placed at a discreet distance from its neighbor. Young families dotted the beach like clumps of exotic flowers. All was quiet and indolent except for the harried cabana boys who moved between the poolside bar and the guests like a stream of marauding ants. Virginia knew they would not be called cabana boys in this age of political correctness, but she was at a loss as to what they should be called. Umbrella attendants? Sand waiters?
Reynaldo, the boy assigned to her, stuck his head around the edge of her umbrella. “Another mai tai, Meesis Redmon?” he said. Virginia sighed and opened her eyes. He wore a white short-sleeved shirt with epaulets and white Bermuda shorts, something a British sea captain or a cruise ship director might have worn. She lifted her plastic glass. It was still half full.
“Not now,” she said. “Check back with me in five minutes.”
He nodded slightly and moved off, his sandaled feet sinking deep into the sugary sand with each step. It had been Virginia's experience that Hispanic men were either as devilishly handsome as movie stars, or as dark and squat as gnomes. Reynaldo unfortunately fell into the latter category.
Her cell phone rang insistently and Virginia rummaged in her beach bag to find it. She squinted to read the caller ID. It was Redmon. She was tempted not to take the call. It had been such a pleasant day so far, and she didn't want to ruin it. But if she didn't answer, he'd simply call the bar and have Reynaldo run a message down to her, or worse, get in the car and drive to Destin to deliver the message himself.
“Hello,” she said sweetly.
“Queenie, what in the hell's going on?” he said shortly. “That girl's mama has called my office three times already today. She's called the house off and on all night. You got to talk to her. I tell you, this just ain't right, you running off with her kid like that.”
“Now, darling, we discussed all that,” Virginia said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “My hands are tied until the judge makes his deci
sion. Until then, we just have to sit tight and wait.”
“I don't want her calling the house. I don't want her calling my office.”
“Don't answer the phone! There's no law that says you have to pick up.”
“You tell that girl to call her mama.”
“Let me handle this,” Virginia snapped. “She's my granddaughter. This is my family business, not yours.”
She could hear him breathing heavily. When he spoke, his voice was hard and resentful. “Well it's my money paying the goddamned attorney fees, so I guess I got a say in what happens.”
Damn it. She hated to do it, but when all else fails, you do what you have to do. She bit her lower lip, hard, and thought about Snowball, the puppy she'd had as a child. Snowball was a white spitz, the only pet Virginia had ever had, and he'd been bitten by a copperhead soon after Virginia's eighth birthday. A lump formed slowly in the back of her throat
, swelling like a tumor.
“She's my only granddaughter,” Virginia said. She thought of little Snowball lying in the dirt, stiff and frozen as a starched shirt left out in a freezing rain. Her eyes misted.
“And she's Nita's only daughter,” Redmon said stubbornly.
“I don't want to lose her,” Virginia sobbed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She'd buried Snowball beneath a camelia bush in the backyard. The colored children sang hymns while she fashioned a cross out of two pieces of driftwood, and afterward she'd given a sad sermon and they'd all cried together. “I love her so and I've just gotten to know her and now you want to take her away from me!”
“Aw now, Queenie, are you crying?” His voice softened. He cleared his throat several times. “Don't cry, Queenie.”
“I feel just terrible about what happened on the island. I was just trying to make things right, to give Nita's husband a chance to make some money, to make us all one big happy family and now I've ruined everything.”
“Now, Queenie, it's not your fault.”
“You'll never forgive me!”
“I don't blame you for what happened, honey. You know that. How could you have known your family place was nothing but an Indian boneyard?”
Virginia took a Kleenex out of her beach bag and blew her nose. “Nita will blame me. She'll think I did it on purpose, and she'll never let me see my granddaughter again! Don't you see, Bob, I had to do it. I had to get the judge involved or I'll never see Whitney again! Nita will keep her from me for spite!”
“Now, sweetheart, I don't think she'd do that.”
“Trust me,” Virginia said. “I've known her longer than you have. You have to trust me, Bob. I'm not trying to keep the girl from her mama, I'm just trying to make sure I get to see her, too!”
“Okay, honey, we'll let the judge decide. I just don't want the girl to go without calling her mama. She's a good mama.”
Virginia clenched her teeth and stared out at the gulf. “And what am I?” she said. “Aren't I a good grandmother?”
“Well, of course you are, honey. No one's saying you aren't.”