by Fran Rizer
He didn’t attempt to answer. Darlene and I stood silently until the nurse moved the curtain aside and said, "Time’s up."
Back in the waiting room, Dr. Don Walters stood with Odell. "I’ve checked the charts, Otis may be showing a tiny bit of improvement," Don said. He grinned at me. "And what," he said, "is your relationship to Otis?"
"You’ve never heard me call him ‘Uncle Otis’?" I said.
"No, but I won’t tell on you." He turned toward Darlene. "Odell tells me you’re Otis’s wife," he said.
"Actually ex-wife, but I didn’t know if that was a suitable kinship to get me back there to see him."
"Close enough," Don said. He turned toward Odell. "I’ll come back around seven o’clock and check on him. Why don’t you guys go have some coffee and sandwiches in the cafeteria?"
Guys? Don and I hadn’t been on a date lately, but he’d never referred to me as a guy even when we quit going out. I straightened up and stuck my chest out before I realized that without the inflatable bra I used to wear, I didn’t have any bosom.
Perhaps something showed in my eyes because he gave me a warmer look.
"Haven’t seen you in a while, Callie. I’ll give you a call. We can have dinner some night."
The doctor walked away before I answered him. Darlene smiled and said,
"It seems the good doctor would like to date you."
"Been there, done that," I quipped.
"They date off and on," Odell said.
A wicked look spread across Darlene’s face. "Off and on or on and off? Sounds like fun to me."
"That’s not how I meant it," Odell said.
"In Mae’s words," Darlene giggled as she spoke, "‘Don’t keep a man guessing too long—he’s sure to find the answer somewhere else.’"
"Don’t start that kind of talk. Callie is a young lady," Odell growled.
"‘It’s hard to be funny when you have to be clean,’" Darlene teased.
"More Mae?" Odell asked.
"Yep, I’ve got hundreds of them."
We walked to the cafeteria (pink footprints). Odell was disappointed that they didn’t have barbecue, and we all settled on club sandwiches. I’ve always liked the way club sandwiches come cut into triangles and stand up around chips on the plate.
I took a sip of coffee and told Darlene, "I didn’t know Otis had been married."
"He probably doesn’t talk much about it. There’s a chance that if I’d been more mature, we would have stayed together. To quote Mae again, ‘Marriage is a great institution, but I’m not ready for an institution.’"
Odell laughed so hard that coffee sprayed out of his mouth. "I’ve gotta say, we’ve missed your humor. I really appreciate your coming on such short notice. Otis kept saying your name."
"I’m glad you called. Otis is a good man, and I would have been devastated if no one had let me know he’s so sick. You and Otis ought to come up and see me sometime." Darlene fluttered her eyelashes and said the words just as they’d been uttered many years ago, and that’s when I realized who Mae was. Darlene was talking about Mae West. I’d half-watched some old movies Daddy rented with Mae West and W.C. Fields. Darlene’s expression and intonation were exactly like Mae West’s. She quoted the deceased actress a lot.
"I doubt you know what we’re talking about," Odell said to me. "Darlene is a Mae West impressionist, but Mae West was way before your time."
"I’ve seen her on videos," I said.
Odell changed the subject and leaned toward Darlene, "You’re welcome to stay with me or at Otis’s place."
"No, I reserved a motel room right after you called."
Feeling they might want to reminisce, I finished my coffee and sandwich, stood, and said, "I’m heading home. Call me if there’s any change, Odell, and it was nice to meet you, Darlene."
"Did you say Denise is forwarding calls from the mortuary to my cell phone?" Odell asked.
"No, to mine. They don’t like you to use cell phones in the hospital. Don’t worry. I’ll come for you if we need you."
"Bye then," Odell said and went back to his second sandwich.
"Let me give you some advice," Darlene said. "More from Ms. West. She said, ‘Love thy neighbor—and if he happens to be tall, debonair, and devastating, it will be that much better.’"
I didn’t have the heart to tell her my nearest neighbor was my blind friend, who happened to be another female.
Chapter Ten
Shouts blasted from Jane’s side of the duplex when I opened my car door. No need to wonder who was making all the noise. A purple Ford 350 and Frank’s old clunker were parked in Jane’s driveway. I’d pulled in on my side. Big Boy was tied to the small oak tree in the yard. His howls mixed with the human yells. I unhooked the leash from the oak, bounded onto the porch, and opened the door into Jane’s living room.
Thank heaven none of them were swinging fists. This was clearly a verbal argument that had full potential to turn physical, but hadn’t yet reached that level. I didn’t think either of my brothers would hit a woman, but they’d certainly fought each other in earlier years. I wouldn’t put it past Jane and Molly to knock each other around if they got mad enough either. They all screamed at the same time. Big Boy lunged toward Molly, and Bill gripped the dog’s collar, pulling him away as I tried to hold onto the leash.
"Get that dog out of here," Molly screeched. She added, "If it wasn’t Jane’s idea, why’d you even ask me?"
"They told me you wanted a double wedding!" Jane yelled.
"I’m all for it!" Frank shouted.
"Why not?" Bill demanded as he struggled with Big Boy.
He barked and howled alternately. I mean the dog barked and howled, not my brother. I picked his leash up from the floor and clipped it to his collar as Bill pushed the Great Dane onto the porch and slammed the door behind us.
When Big Boy finished squatting like he always does when he tinkles, I tried to take him for a walk. He pulled on the leash, jerking me toward the apartment door.
I tugged as hard as I could to urge him to the sidewalk, but he wanted no part of it. He pulled me up the steps to the porch. I opened the door just a few inches, stuck my head inside, and said something I never say. Something that would get a five-year-old three minutes in the time-out chair when I taught kindergarten.
"Shut up!" Several years of calling kids in from recess had boosted my vocal power even if I didn’t use it much any more. Not that I’d ever told a child to "shut up." Buh-leeve me. I think that expression is totally and completely rude, but the four of them screaming at each other was just as bad and demanded an impolite response.
"Callie!" Jane exclaimed. "I’m so glad you’re home. Send these people away, will ya?"
"One of them is your fiancé and the others will be your relatives after the weddings. What’s going on?" It was all I could do to control Big Boy. He kept leaping toward Molly. Could he remember her from living at her kennels when he was a puppy?
Molly stepped away from the dog and shook her finger at me. "You told me to get the two couples together to discuss this double wedding business," she said. "Jane invited us over for supper, and it’s just like you said, not Jane’s idea to ruin my wedding. And unless the lipstick I found in Bill’s truck belongs to you or Jane, there may not be a wedding for us."
"It’s not mine," Jane said. "I haven’t even seen Bill’s new truck." When I first met Jane, sight terms bothered me, but she uses them all the time. "See ya later" is her standard goodbye. When she said she hadn’t "seen" the truck, she meant she’d neither been in it, touched it, nor had it described to her.
Molly held a Revlon tube of "Gypsy Rose" out to me. My hold on Big Boy barely relaxed for a second. He jerked away from my grasp and jumped toward Molly. I dang near died. My big old dog started humping Molly’s leg like I don’t know what. Bill grabbed the dog’s collar, but Big Boy kept hunching. Panting and hunching. It took Frank and Bill both to get the dog away from Molly.
"I told you to tie that d
og out front!" she roared.
"I don’t ever tie him outside," I protested and tried to take Big Boy from Frank and Bill. The dog pounced toward Molly again. Bill grabbed the collar and forced the Great Dane back as his girlfriend jumped behind the couch.
"What’s happening?" Jane usually keeps up very well, but there was no way she’d know exactly what my dog had been doing to Molly’s leg.
"Put him in the bathroom," I ordered. "He’s used to being shut in there."
Bill, Frank, and I shoved Big Boy in beside the tub. I didn’t even take the tissue out like I usually did. This meant the dog would shred the roll into confetti. We just slammed the door tight and listened to Big Boy howl.
"I think I should leave now," Molly said, "but I need someone to give me a ride home. I’m sorry about dinner, Jane, but I’ll talk to you later."
"You don’t need a ride home. I brought you and I’ll take you back." Bill said.
"Unless Callie tells me this is her lipstick, I don’t want to set my foot or my behind in that purple truck ever again." Molly said.
Everyone turned to look at me. Even Jane faced me though she wasn’t actually looking at me. What should I do? It would smooth things over if I said it was my lipstick, but would I want anyone to lie to me about something like that? Wordlessly, my brother Bill begged me with his eyes. He wanted me to cover for him.
I couldn’t do it. I didn’t say, "No, it’s not mine," but I couldn’t make myself claim the lipstick either. I remained silent.
"I guess that does it," Molly said. Tears streamed down her face. "Frank, will you take me home?"
"I really don’t want to get into this," Frank mumbled.
I handed Molly my SpongeBob SquarePants key ring. "Take my car," I said. "I’ll get someone to bring me to pick it up. Everyone needs to settle down and then talk this out calmly. No double wedding, but, Molly, that lipstick could have been left in the truck by a sales lady or by someone who took it for a test drive." Molly closed her hand over the keys and walked to the door. She looked back at me. "Thank you, Callie. Now let me tell you what to do. Be a responsible pet owner and get that dog fixed!" She paused. "And if I’d married your brother, I’d have needed to have him neutered, too."
Jane giggled. "I’d never marry anyone who’d been neutered. What would be the point?"
Frank’s expression was unreadable. Surprise? Shock? Offense? I couldn’t tell.
"What if you married someone and then he became . . ." Frank searched for the right word.
"Unable to perform his husbandly duties?" I offered.
"Duties?" Jane asked. "Duties? It’s a privilege, not a duty."
"What about love?" Frank said. "Marriage is about more than privileges or duties. Wouldn’t you still love me if I couldn’t?" He looked directly at Jane, then added, "Not that I’d ever have that problem."
I flopped down on the couch beside Jane. "What’s wrong with my dog?" I asked, trying to change the subject. After all, I thought that particular conversation between Frank and Jane should be held in private. "He’s never behaved like that before."
"What was he doing?" Jane asked.
I leaned over and whispered my answer in her ear.
Jane roared with laughter.
Frank said, "Well, it is Wednesday."
"What’s that got to do with it?" I asked.
"Hump day," he said.
Jane chuckled but said, "You’re so lame!"
"The truth is," Bill said, "that unless you plan to breed your dog, he does need to be neutered. He’s so big and hard to handle. You’d have a real problem if that happened when you were walking him."
"Well, I’ve already spent a small fortune on him," I grumbled. "Besides buying his toys and special shampoo, I’ve had to pay to repair and replace a lot of stuff he chewed up when he was younger. He’s had his ears cropped and all his shots and treatments, too. I’ll call the vet and make an appointment or could I just get a farmer to do it like they do cows and hogs?"
"Just call the vet, would ya? Pa might own a farm, but none of us is gonna cut Big Boy’s mountain oysters." Bill said, then turned the subject back to Molly. "What should I do now? Take her flowers?"
"You’d better have the florist deliver them in case she decides to take a whack at fixing you herself," Frank laughed.
"Whose tube of lipstick did she find in your truck?" Jane asked.
"I don’t know," Bill said defiantly. "Like Callie said, it must have been left by someone who test-drove the truck before I bought it."
My brother was lying. I knew it, and from the expression on his face when he looked at me, he knew I knew. He had seen me at Taylor’s Cemetery.
Chapter Eleven
While Jane finished preparing Pimiento Chicken for dinner, Bill and I made our phone calls. Mine to Big Boy’s vet to schedule an appointment for neutering. Bill’s to St. Mary Florals to send Molly a bouquet of roses. Frank took the dog out of the bathroom and for a walk. Bill and I were sitting in the living room alone. It seemed a good time to ask THE questions.
"Who was that woman you were with over at Taylor’s Cemetery today and what were you doing there?" I said.
"I thought that was you on the front row, but that wasn’t a Middleton’s tent."
"No, Odell’s at the hospital with Otis. They subbed out setting up for the funeral to Clark’s." Bill didn’t comment. "What were you doing there and who was she?" I repeated.
"It was my friend Lucy, and we weren’t doing anything. She’d heard I was getting married and just wanted to talk to me. Considering how jealous Molly is, I thought it would be best to go somewhere private."
"To a cemetery?"
"I know the place to park when you were in high school was the deserted Halsey farm, but when I was a teenager, the Halseys still lived there. The place to go was a cemetery. I chose Taylor’s today because it’s far enough from St. Mary that I figured no one who knew me would see us." He looked embarrassed. "How was I to know my own sister would catch me and then refuse to defend me."
"I’m not going to lie for you about something like that. If you still want to see other women, you don’t need to be getting married."
"We were just talking, and I do love Molly and I do want to marry her."
"Sneaking off with other women isn’t the way to show it. You’re as big a hound dog as Big Boy."
"Oh, your dog’s not that bad. Molly invited that behavior."
"What?"
"She told me on the way over here that she’d spent the morning breeding poodles. I doubt that she changed clothes before I picked her up. Your dog smelled the bitch on Molly. That’s why he was so crazy."
"Then I can cancel the vet appointment?"
"No, unless you plan to breed him, you need to have him neutered. He’ll be much easier to control."
"What are you going to do about Molly?"
"Once she gets the flowers, she’ll listen when I tell her the woman who sold me the truck must have left that lipstick."
"You’ve gotta stop lying to her or break off the engagement." The minute I’d said it, I realized how ridiculous that sounded. He should stop lying to her whether they married or not.
Just as I began to expand on the subject, my cell phone rang. Caller ID showed the mortuary. Expecting a pickup call, I answered to hear Denise’s frantic words, "Callie, the sheriff is here with the FBI. They want to see the body in the cooler. You know good and well that I’m not going in there to pull it out. I told you I’m not doing anything with dead bodies. You need to get over here now!"
"I’ll be right there," I said and disconnected the phone before I remembered I’d lent my car to Molly. I turned to my brother. "Bill, I have to go the funeral home. Will you take me there or run me by Molly’s to pick up my car?"
"Are you leaving?" Jane called from the kitchen as though she hadn’t been listening to every word we’d said.
"Yes, I’ll eat when I get back," I answered.
"Me too," Bill said as Frank came in with
Big Boy.
"You too what?" Frank said.
"I’m taking Callie to pick up her car from Molly."
"Why now? Dinner smells almost done."
"It is, but Callie’s got to go to the funeral home," Jane called from the kitchen.
"If you’re in this conversation, come in here with us," Frank said.
"No, I can’t," Jane replied in an irritated tone. "I have to stir right now. The sauce will lump if I come in there."
Bill and I didn’t stay for the rest of this conversation. As he drove me to Molly’s place, which was between the apartment and the mortuary, he attempted to justify sneaking off with another woman the month of his wedding. I tuned him out because none of it really mattered. If that meeting had been innocent, why was it so sneaky?
I went to Molly’s door for my keys. She thanked me, looked over my shoulder, and beckoned Bill over. I drove away. Let them work out their own drama.
Sheriff Harmon knew me well enough to know I’d come in the back door. He and a well-dressed woman in a white silk blouse and a midnight blue skirt suit that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe waited for me in the rear of the mortuary. She had auburn hair pinned up in back and that natural look of women who know how to apply makeup that enhances their beauty without the cosmetics being noticeable. I tried for that look every time I cosmetized a female.
"Callie Parrish, this is Special Agent Georgette Randolph," Harmon introduced us. Her handshake was solid, but not finger-crushing.
"I appreciate," she began, "your coming in after your shift is over." I didn’t bother to tell her that mortuary employees don’t exactly work shifts. It’s not like we’re working on the other side of town at the underwear factory where a friend of mine says she "sews crotches" from three until eleven.
"What can I do for you?" I asked, already knowing from Denise’s call that they wanted to see Mr. Joyner’s body.
In a few minutes, we were in the cooler area, and I pulled out the tray with Mr. Joyner on it.