“No, didn’t come for that either,” I replied. “I need to see Candy.”
Clara’s eyebrows scrunched together. “She’s in the back with Charlotte. What’cha need her for?” I gave her an irritated stare, and she huffed and moved to the back room. A moment later, all three returned, hands on hips and eyes burrowing into me.
“What do you want?” Candy demanded. “You already cost me my job. Here to rub it in?” She folded her arms, with heavy bracelets, across her chest. The concern I’d received from them just a few days ago at my hospital bedside had clearly dissipated.
“I just want to know why.”
“Why what?” Candy asked, sauntering over to the coffee bar. She poured herself a cup of water and dropped a lemon wedge in it.
“Why you deliberately sabotaged my relationship with Sam,” I explained, angry that I had to. “Why did you lie to me?” Candy huffed and rolled her eyes. She guzzled down her water.
Clara piped up, “Wait, what’s this about?”
“This isn’t about the store?” Charlotte asked.
I shook my head. “No, this isn’t business. It’s personal. Course, it’s all personal to me, but nothing is more personal to me than him.” Candy moved behind the counter, a ping-pong ball moving from one side of the store to the other.
She winced, and ignored my questions. “You know, I’m workin’ here now. Thanks to you, a dozen years of hard work at Beach Realty are down the drain.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”
“I had nothing to do with what Uncle Joe did,” I told her. “Stop avoiding the subject and tell me why.” Candy hesitated and leaned against the back counter. She folded her arms across her chest and looked at the floor, as if she wasn’t going to say a word.
“I’m confused,” Clara stepped in, “What exactly are you claimin’ she lied about?”
“When I was sixteen, Sam and I fell in love,” I started, staring at Candy’s hardened face. “Candy lied to both of us. She told him that I’d left and couldn’t see him and told me that he wasn’t interested in me-”
“Was that the summer you became so distraught?” Charlotte asked, blue eyes wide.
“Yes,” I returned. “I had a broken heart, thought the boy I loved didn’t love me back and it crushed me. And Candy let me believe it.”
“I’m still confused,” Clara said, “You gals were inseparable back then. Candy, why would you-”
“Were you in love with him, too?” Charlotte tried.
Candy grimaced. “Hell, no!” Candy moved from around the counter and went about the business of straightening shoes on their perches. The three of us followed her.
“Then why?” I demanded again. “Why lie about it? Did you even have a reason or was it just plain, old fashioned cruelty?”
She stopped. Her eyes welled with tears. “Because of Damon!” She spat it out in one huge emotional burst, shocking both me and my aunts. Candy quickly regained herself, though, as if allowing herself to show tears was as bad as telling a revealing secret.
“You weren’t the only one in love that summer, ‘cept I was too afraid to tell anyone, too afraid to bring him home to meet mom and dad, too afraid to tell my sisters, to tell you. I guess all that fear just built up-”
“Because he’s black?” Clara spouted. The three of us glanced at each other with dumbfounded faces.
Candy grunted and went on, “I had friends who wouldn’t even talk to me anymore after they found out I was seeing a black man and if they reacted like that, well, I knew the shit would hit the fan when I told the family.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad-”
“It was a nightmare! When I finally built up the courage to do it, Daddy ‘bout had a heart attack,” Candy reminded them. “Mamma kept sputtering some nonsense from the Bible about mixing yolks. Grandpa practically disowned me!” Tears fell, but she brushed them away.
“What did any of that have to do with Sam and me?”
“You think it was easy bein’ shackled to you all summer?” Candy took a deep breath. “I could barely get away to see ‘em. You tagged along everywhere I went, when I wasn’t working, and made things impossible for me-”
“Ah, this is bullshit! All you ever had to do was tell me,” I cut in. “I would’ve understood.”
“No one understood! All you could think about was yourself. Sam Teague this and Sam Teague that. Only reason I set up that date for you was to get you off my back. I was so sick of hearing about him.” Candy scooted across the room again, and back, using up her nervous energy. “You drove me crazy!” she bit back. “I thought things would get better after your date, that you’d get him out of your system. First dates never turn out so good-”
“It was the best day of my life,” I interrupted.
She laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, that’s what he said, too. Can you imagine how angry I was when I saw Sam Teague comin’ up MY driveway and walkin’ up MY porch and comin’ into MY house? My Damon couldn’t do that, but here was your boyfriend callin’ on you like a lovesick puppy. You! Sixteen years old! And me! Twenty-two years old and hiding around corners like I was doing something wrong!”
“You were jealous,” I finished.
“I was angry!” she bit back. “Angry that I’d fallen in love with a man who could never give me a normal life! Even to this day, people give us the stink eye, ogle my girls like they’re freaks or somethin’!” She moved into the hat tree forest, tilting the brims and adjusting the way they hung from their perches. I followed, steaming.
“None of that was my fault!” I yelled. “What did I ever do to you, except love you and want to be like you?”
“You deserved it,” she bit back. “You’re nothin’ but a coddled little princess-”
“Coddled?” I shot back. “You know my mother! How can you say coddled?”
Over top of my protests she went on, “Always gettin’ your way and when you were here, I had to coddle you, too. Got sick of it!”
“So, I was the bug under your shoe?” I returned, circling around hat racks to keep up with her. Clara and Charlotte stayed close behind. “You knew how I suffered!” A surge of anger pulsed through me. I jumped in front of her and knocked the hat rack over to get her attention. Clara and Charlotte gasped.
She fixed her stony gaze on me, undaunted.
“And you still kept up the lie, even now,” I continued, frustration growing. “Why?”
“Well, he’d be a real good reason to stay, wouldn’t he?” she said coldly. “Like everyone else ‘round here, I wanted you gone.”
Clara sucked in air, and said, “I created a monster.”
“Daddy told me you found the life vest,” Candy went on foolishly. She leaned down and picked up the fallen hat rack. “I couldn’t believe Sam Teague had the nerve to ask me to give it to you, like I’m some kinda delivery person. I looked at ‘em like he was nuts on top of looney.”
My eyes squinted and pinched together. Something rock hard formed in my stomach. The more she spoke, the larger it grew.
She shook her head. “Knew I shoulda thrown that damn thing away.”
I wasn’t conscious of my hand balling up, or the muscles in my right arm tensing. All I know is that she was in the middle of saying, “We all said you were a fool to come back here. What’s it gonna take for you to learn-“ That’s when my fist hit her face, the left side of her mouth to be exact.
Her head swung back, her earrings jingling as she went. She toppled to the pink carpet, taking the hat rack she’d just fixed back down with her. A squeaky cry belted from her lips. Charlotte and Clara gasped.
Leaning over her stunned face, I spat out, “You stole thirteen years of love from me. Thirteen years, Candy! I hope you’re ready for the shit-storm of guilt you’re going to feel, if you can still feel. You heartless she-devil!” I exited through the hats, knocking down hat rack trees as I went. Hats tumbled to the floor and rolled across the store
I took a deep breath, drenche
d in sunlight. I’d survived the shoals, at least, that’s what I thought.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Breakers
A breaker is a crashing wave that collapses onto the shore in a fit of foam and spray and then pushes up the beach until devoid of energy. Once spent, the leftovers are sucked back out to sea. It’s also the name of the poorer section of town – The Breakers – where ramshackle cottages are practically shoved up against each other, rounded up by the dense marshes.
Mavis Chambers lived in a small, one-story yellow cottage with black shudders. Two pick-up trucks, one blue and one green, sat in the gravel driveway along with a dark green golf cart. A wooden sign on the door said ‘Welcome’. Willie and I knocked.
Mavis answered wearing a black dress with purple flowers, slippers on her feet, and a warm smile that immediately made me feel more comfortable about popping in.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” I said. Her face brightened.
“Ms. Duffy, how nice for you to visit,” she cooed.
“I thought if you weren’t busy,” I started, “maybe you could show me your doll room. I don’t collect them, but it sounds very interesting.”
Her eyes widened at the mention of her doll room, and she nodded. “Surely, but, no dogs.” She held her finger up to exercise her firmness. “I don’t allow pets in my house.” I nodded, considering that I should have remembered that fact since it had been one of the very first things I’d learned about Darryl. Flashes of two little boys chasing baby snakes in the backyard skimmed across my mind.
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll just leave Willie in the car.” Willie jumped back in the front seat obediently, and I gave him a reassuring pat. “Won’t be long.”
To walk into Mavis’ living room, one could understand the no-pet rule. Victorian furniture competed with floral wallpaper and brass lamps and fixtures. Every table surface had a covering, something lacy, and from the curtains to the throw pillows, everything had ruffles.
“What a lovely home,” I told her. I followed Mavis down a hallway off to the right. Further, I could see several closed doors. Two of the doors had indentions where locks had been removed.
“My boys rent their rooms from me,” she noted, seeing that I had noticed. “They insisted on keeping their rooms locked until the police smashed the locks off.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal.” I didn’t know what else to say. She shrugged. She turned sharply to the left and into what would have been the dining room, as it shouldered the kitchen. I hesitated in the hall for just a second. No family pictures graced the walls. No sports trophies in a curio cabinet. I shuddered and followed her.
The Doll Room could be called nothing else. Floor to ceiling shelves covered the walls and spaced evenly apart, the dolls stood, their eyes black and lifeless. They reminded me of the snakes, all lined up, with eyes like death.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked, circling around the room like a child playing in a fountain.
“Wonderful,” I said. “How many do you have?” Though dolls know no age, many of them looked old, with their glass eyes and dated clothing. Surely, they were expensive, for every detail on them had been perfected, down to each hand-stitched button or painted freckle. In front of each one, a little card had been placed with the doll’s name and a date.
“Oh, these are only a few of my collection,” she returned, “the ones that have been good. The rest are in the basement. I have hundreds of doll children.” I smiled. A steady nervousness swelled in my stomach.
“Let me fix you some tea,” she offered, “You look a little pale.” She pointed to the tiny, two-person table in the middle of the Doll Room. A lace doily graced its middle.
“Oh, please don’t go to any trouble,” I said. “I can’t stay lo-”
“It’s no trouble,” she smiled widely. “Water’s already hot.” She disappeared into the kitchen. A headache was coming on. I sat in one of the chairs.
A strange feeling of guilt and sadness mixed had brought me here in the first place. I felt sorry for Mavis Chambers. That she’d lost two sons had to be devastating, and that I was a victim, too, I considered we might bond. “A doll in the doll-maker’s house looks at the cradle and bawls: ‘That is an insult to us’.” The words from Yeats’ poem struck me now as the glass eyes stared down at me, and I shivered. My head throbbed.
Mavis returned carrying a lovely China tea service, complete with dainty cups, saucers, linen napkins, and a small plate of ladyfingers. She set the tray carefully before me, smiling widely. She handed me a delicate teacup. I focused my attention on not spilling.
“Drink up, Ms. Duffy,” she said sweetly, “before it gets cold.” I sipped, as ordered. I imagined that I was Alice in Wonderland. Curiosity often leads to trouble. Mavis sipped her tea, cup tipped daintily in her left hand.
My eyes darted around to the dolls on the walls. Singly, they were pleasant, beautiful even. But, taken together, they were overwhelming. Like too many chocolates can make you sick, I felt strangely ill-at-ease in the Doll Room.
“You are looking much better than that dreadful picture in the paper,” Mavis remarked. A gentle smile eased up on the left side of her mouth as her eyes drifted over me. My right hand instinctively shielded the left’s marks. I shoved them both under the table. The rope burns were still visible, and I’d grown tired of wearing the excessive jewelry to cover them up.
The uneasy feeling grew exponentially, and formed a rock in my stomach, different that the angry one I’d just experienced with Candy.
Mavis set her teacup down, and tossed me a girlish grin. “Let’s invite Paisley Lynn to join us, shall we?”
My mouth dropped, but nothing came out. I shielded my surprise with a quick smile. I’d come across a few odd ducks in my day. A science teacher at my former school liked to collect dirty tissues to study under a microscope; he also collected road-kill. My parents’ neighbor enjoyed sunbathing on her rooftop. A dorm-mate in college had a thing about germs. She wore gloves, even in the summer. But, Mavis – she suddenly jumped to the front of the crazy line. Nuts on top of looney, like Candy had said earlier.
Mavis stood and grabbed a doll from the second shelf. She placed her carefully on the edge of the table, between us, and then returned to her own seat with a satisfied smile. I sipped my tea, unsure. Half of me expected (or maybe just hoped) this was all a rouse. Could she be joking? Attempting some tea-party silliness? I remembered Mavis calling her dolls her inanimate family, but she couldn’t possibly think-
“Paisley Lynn joined our family just a few weeks ago,” Mavis explained, “and she has been so wonderful since all this mess about the boys.”
“How’s that?” I prodded. I tried to ignore the doll now almost right in my face. It had pink and purple paisley pants, as one might have guessed, a fluffy white blouse, and two brown braids draped on its shoulders.
Mavis smiled. “Oh, you know. She’s just been a real shoulder to lean on. The other night, we stayed up for hours, just talking.”
I wanted to crack a joke about how Paisley Lynn must be a terrific listener, but I could tell by Mavis’ expression that this was nothing to joke about.
“Um, it’s a real blessing to have someone to talk to,” I tried instead. “I know I-”
Mavis held up her finger and shushed me. She leaned into Paisley Lynn, and listened. “Oh, my,” Mavis said, leaning back into her seat. She shot her doll a disapproving look.
“What’s wrong?” I asked the question, but feared the answer. My head pounded.
“Paisley Lynn doesn’t like you very much,” Mavis revealed, taking another sip of tea. “She is very particular about her friends, maybe too particular.” Mavis seemed to be contemplating it deeply.
“Oh, well I’m sorry to hear that.”
“On the other hand, she was right about Madame Posey,” Mavis continued. “Madame Posey was nothing but a… a… BACKSTABBING BITCH!” Every word out of Mavis�
� mouth had been controlled, soft and sweet like a birdsong, until the last two, which she roared. She sounded like the devil. Instinctively, I leaned back in my chair, heart racing, head jolting with pain.
“You know, I’m not feeling all that well at the mo-”
“It would be rude to leave before finishing your tea.” Her normal voice had returned, but her warning chilled me. I settled back into my seat, taking my cup back in my fingers, now shaking.
I breathed out. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Looking at the doll, I added, “Forgive me.”
Mavis smiled, and leaned toward the doll again. Mavis grimaced. “Oh, Paisley Lynn, pish posh. I’m sure Ms. Duffy didn’t mean to take your brothers away. Right, Ms. Duffy?”
My mouth dropped, but nothing managed to spill out. My phone and keys were in my pockets. Willie and my Jeep were just outside the door. All I had to do was get around this table and Mavis to gain an exit. Still, I didn’t move. Mavis smiled widely, seeming to revel in my distress.
My voice shook. “Right.”
“Your first name – Delilah.” Mavis’ eyes lit up, and she said, “Did you know that there was a Delilah in the Bible? She was a Philistine whore who brought a great man to his death. Isn’t that funny?”
My head thundered. “How-how is that funny?”
Placid, like a doormat, her face looked just like one of her dolls. “Well, you did the same thing, didn’t you? How did your mother know that name would suit you so well? Must be your nature.”
I set my teacup down. “I-I-“
“My boys understood their places,” she went on. “And I understood their natures, like your own mother, perhaps. I trained them up in the way they should go. That is, of course, until you-”
Sea-Devil: A Delilah Duffy Mystery Page 30