Laid Out and Candle Lit

by Everett, Ann

  Pattiecake spoke to Ridge. “Sorry about that. She loses that stupid watch every other day. The last time, Saint found the thing in her freezer.”

  Oleta Harmon called out to Tizzy. “Have you been to the cemetery lately?”

  “Yes ma’am. I was there this morning, and I’m sorry. Herman still hasn’t seen Elvis.”

  “Shoot! What about Frank Sinatra?” Oleta asked.

  “No ma’am. Not Frank, either.”

  “Dean?”

  “No ma’am.”

  “What about John Wayne? Has he seen him?”

  “No ma’am. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, has he seen any movie stars at all?”

  “He hasn’t mentioned any,” Tizzy said.

  “Well, thanks for checking anyway.” Oleta said, turning her attention to Fannie.

  “Do you think it’s possible they have a Hollywood heaven where movie stars go and the common folk go to regular heaven? Herman’s been there for over a year and hasn’t seen one movie star yet.”

  Fannie Solomon rolled her eyes. “You ever thought all those people you mentioned may not be in heaven?” she said. “That would explain why Herman hasn’t seen any of them.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. I guess it’s possible.” She craned her neck around Fannie. “But keep checking for me, Tizzy. Okay?”

  Tizzy smiled. “Yes ma’am. I will.”

  Tizzy picked up a box from the counter and shoved it in front of Ridge.

  He snapped his head up. “What’s this?

  She didn’t answer.

  He repeated. “What’s this, Tizzy?”

  “Your muffins. I’m assuming that’s why you came in.”

  “Thanks, but actually I came in just to see you.”

  Nana emerged from the ladies room and announced. “Hey! Good news, everybody! I found my watch. It was in my girdle!”

  Everyone laughed and Pattiecake lifted her eyes toward heaven.

  Ridge stood up and headed for the door.

  Pattiecake called after him. “Oh, Ridge? Have a safe trip and we‘ll all look forward to seeing you when you get back.”

  Tizzy yelled from the kitchen. “I heard that, and I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you!

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As Tizzy helped Rayann gather the last of the dirty dishes, Rayann paused and rested her arms on the counter. “You’ve been really quiet today. Got anything to do with Cooper leaving this morning?”

  Tizzy started to answer, but the door opened and Pattiecake and Sugarpie rushed in. “We’re back. I hate you girls missed the funeral, it was quite the show,” Pattiecake sang out.

  “Tell us all about it. Tizzy needs to be cheered up. She’s depressed,” Rayann said.

  Pattiecake came to Tizzy’s side, slipping her arm around her waist. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  “Nothing.” Tizzy shrugged away. “Can’t I just have a day when I’m not all perky every minute?”

  “Of course you can.” Sugarpie baby-talked as she pinched her cheek. “I think you’ll cheer up as soon as Ridge gets back.”

  Tizzy stiffened and tried to draw a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about Cooper. Tell us about the funeral.” She cleared Ridge from her mind and began to smile as Pattiecake and Sugarpie talked.

  “Well, all his kids were there. Marceline, Fayrene, Maudine, Lujean, and Roy Dean. Against their better judgment, they asked John Moody to be one of the pallbearers. He has Alzheimer’s. Some days are good, and some not so good,” Pattiecake said.

  “Well, the service was going pretty well, but John thought it was running a little long. So right about the time Brother McDaniel had Doyce at the pearly gates, John stood up, waved his hands in the air and said real loud, ‘Preacher, we’ve done all we can do for old Doyce, so let’s throw the dirt on ‘im!’ Lord! Everybody in that church house burst into laughter. Even Miss Eunice, Doyce’s wife was laughing. We hate you girls missed it.”

  “Speaking of entertaining, do we have everything ready for the party tomorrow?” Sugarpie asked.

  Tizzy grinned. “I’ve got everything checked off my list. The tee shirts are here. The cake is done, and Daddy has all the fixin’s for the cook out. Now, if the weather will cooperate, we’ll be in good shape.” She smiled at Rayann. “Are you excited?”

  Rayann‘s voice trilled. “Yeah. I think we’re gonna have a pretty good crowd. Dwayne and I aren’t gonna swim. I don’t wanna mess up my hair.”

  “Of course not. You need to look pretty for the pictures.”

  “Oh my Lord. Somebody’s getting a plant,” Rayann said, focused on the front door.

  Tizzy snapped her head around. “Probably for you, from Bubba.”

  Rayann met the delivery person at the door and accepted the pot, looked down at the card and laughed. “They’re not for me. The envelope says ‘to Margie Lou.’”

  Tizzy jerked the envelope from her hand and slid the card out. “I hate him,” she huffed.

  Pattiecake leaned forward. “What does the card say?”

  Rayann grabbed the card. A grin slowly spread across her face. “It says. . . ‘I’m sorry’ and signed, ‘you know who.’”

  “Okay, that’s enough!” Sugarpie shouted. “He has groveled. He’s sent you flowers, plus he saved your life. You’ve got to make up with him. I’m right, aren’t I, Pattiecake?”

  “You’re absolutely right. One hundred percent right. Totally right. Without a doubt right.”

  Tizzy threw her hands in the air. “Okay! Okay! I get it. Y’all luv Trooper Cooper. You’re all for him and against me.” Her stomach cramped, head throbbed, and her lungs lost their capacity.

  “That’s not true, sweetie. We would never choose him over you,” Pattiecake said, slipping her arm around Tizzy.

  “So, y’all think Ridge Cooper is the man for me?” She shook her head back and forth in disgust. “Well, he’s not. He’s only gonna be here for a while, then he’ll go back to his life in Dallas, and I’ll stay here with mine. Besides, I hardly think a shrub and a simple I’m sorry qualifies as groveling.”

  “C’mon, Tizzy, all we’re saying is for the first time in a long time, a good man is interested in you, plus he’s crazy about Gracie and she’s crazy about him. In the hospital, I saw the way you two looked at each other. If you want to admit it or not, you have feelings for him,” Pattiecake said.

  “I’m not denying the chemistry between us. I’m saying we can’t let it go anywhere.”

  Rayann sat down next to her. “Look how fired up you get when you talk about him. God, girl, if the mention of his name gets you this excited, think what he could do to you in the bedroom.” She cut her eyes around. “Sorry, Pattiecake.”

  “Honey, no need to apologize,” Pattiecake said. “I’m thinking the same thing.”

  “Mama! Since when do you approve of me fornicatin’? All my life, I’ve heard, ‘Tizzy, make those boys keep their hands to themselves and you keep your hands to yourself’ and now you’re encouraging me to hop into bed with Cooper?” She placed both her hands to her temples and started to make small circles. “Lord, what is this world coming to? Y’all need to settle down and go back to the way it was before he showed up. Stay out of my business, out of my love life, and most of all, out of my sex life!”

  “Listen, sweetie,” Patticake said. “Why do you think you work so many different jobs? I’ll tell you. You’re trying to fill a void and you think work is the answer. Maybe Ridge isn’t the man for you, but it’s time you start dating again, Tizzy. I know you’re scared. You’ve suffered a great loss at an early age, and you don’t want to risk that kind of heartbreak again.

  “But you can’t live your life like that. Love always involves risks. Since Boone died, you’ve focused on Gracie and you’re a good mother, but you’re keeping her from having a daddy in her life. I know we tease you, but we want you to be happy more than anything.”

  Tears pooled in Tizzy’s eyes. “FYI, I have a date for the party tomorrow
, and it’s not with Ridge Cooper.”

  Rayann’s eyes got as big as marbles. “Oh my God! Who?”

  Tizzy placed her thumb and finger at the top of her nose to pinch back tears. “Jared Medina.”

  “What did you do, retain him as your lawyer and ask him out at the same time?” Rayann asked.

  “As a matter of fact I did. Why not? He’s good looking, single, and gainfully employed. I could do worse.”

  Rayann’s face drew into a scowl. “I just think it’s a mistake, that’s all. I’ll be willing to bet the entire time you’re with him, you’ll be thinking about you know who.”

  “Amen to that,” Pattiecake said.

  “Uh-huh, Sugarpie agreed.

  Tizzy removed her apron, tossed it on the counter, gathered her purse, and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go get a drink. I have a splittin’ headache.”

  Rayann followed her to the door. “Hey, don’t forget your azalea,” she said, shoving the pot into Tizzy’s arms.

  A blast of hot air hit her in the face as she opened the door to her car and slid in. She placed the plant on the front seat next to her and laid her head over on the steering wheel. Her chest was hurting. Her stomach ached. She turned the engine and another blast of hot air shot out from the air conditioner.

  She hated all the questions. She hated all the advice. She hated the hot weather. She hated him.

  She wheeled into the tavern lot and parked in the space closest to the door. She clutched the pot in one hand and pushed the bar door open with the other. Except for two men sitting at a back table, the place was empty. She slumped down onto a stool, set the plant on the counter, and yelled to Saint. “Hey, Daddy, can I get a shot of tequila?”

  Saint McAlister gave his brows a quick lift. “You’re about three hours early for work. What’s wrong, baby girl? Whatever the problem is, you think a shot’s gonna fix it?”

  She bowed her head. “No, but it’ll make me feel better.”

  He nodded toward the pot. “Nice plant. Who sent it?”

  She clenched her teeth. “You know who.”

  He smiled and slightly nodded. “Ah . . . Cooper.”

  “Yeah. But the card was actually signed you know who. He thinks he’s so damn clever sending me an azalea in place of roses. What kind of man sends a girl a shrub?”

  She stretched her arm out across the bar and laid her head on it.

  Saint chuckled. “I reckon the two of you are still on the outs. Your mama told me y’all had an argument. Do you wanna talk about it?”

  She rolled her eyes up at him. “No . . . I mean yes . . . I don’t know.” She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.

  She sat up straight. “What, Daddy? You’re not full of advice? Mama, Sugarpie and Rayann are. They think I should forgive, forget, and jump into the sack with him.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetie, you’re my little girl. You’ll never hear me telling you to jump in the sack with anybody. As for the advice, they just want you to be happy, and I think you know what you want to do about Cooper without any help from us.”

  “No, Daddy, I don’t.”

  He leaned down, rested his arms on the bar, and took her hands in his. “Oh, I think you do. Tell me. Since he came to town, do you think about him a little, a lot, or all the time?”

  She sighed then whined. “Somewhere between a lot and all the time.”

  “I see.” His mouth turned into a crooked grin. “When you see him, do you get that little flutter in your stomach?”

  She gave him a curious look.

  He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Guys get it, too. When we see the girl we want to be with more than anyone else, we get butterflies just like you women.” He leaned in close. “That’s a guy secret, so don’t go spreading it around. I still feel that way when I tease your mama about something and she flashes those eyes at me.”

  Tizzy stood up and reached across the bar and hugged him. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  “So I guess in the end, they’re right. I should jump in the sack with him.” She started to laugh.

  “Whoa! Too much information.” He laughed with her. “You still need that shot?”

  “Naw, I guess not.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ]

  During the two hours and fifteen minutes it took Ridge to get to Dallas, he thought of nothing except the argument with Tizzy. In his mind, he played out a dozen different plans to get back into her good graces. Graces…Gracie…yeah, Gracie. Unscrupulous? Maybe. But he faced the cold hard truth. Regardless of the case and her possible involvement, he had feelings for Tizzy.

  Traffic inched along bumper to bumper, and he hated the slow pace. In the short time he’d been in Brownsboro, he was already spoiled by getting everywhere fast. Of course, there wasn’t much of an everywhere you wanted to get to. He wondered whether if he wasn’t involved in the case, he’d be able to tolerate how little the town had to offer. But then again, there was Tizzy.

  He parked his car, removed his bag, and made a quick inspection of the parking lot. He took another sigh of relief. He didn’t see her car. If he was lucky, she’d be booked for flights the entire time, and if not, well… he’d deal with her.

  He opened the front door, walked straight to the thermostat and adjusted the temperature. He stripped down to his tee shirt and boxers, pulled on a pair of running shorts, stepped back outside and retrieved his mail. Since he paid most of his bills online, the stack consisted mostly of advertisements and his subscription to Sports Illustrated.

  He returned inside, took a bottle of water from the fridge, sat down and started to thumb through the magazine. Within a few minutes, he slumped deep into the chair, his head resting against the back. Jeez, he was tired. A distant car alarm jolted him awake. Disoriented at first, it took him a minute to realize he was in his apartment in Dallas and not at the old house in Brownsboro. He glanced over at the clock . . . two a.m.

  Stiff from sleeping in the chair, he rolled his neck first one way and then the other. He stared into the darkness and thought of Tizzy. He missed her. He missed knowing she was just across the lawn. He laughed to himself. So near, yet so far away.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, at fifteen minutes past nine o’clock, Ridge walked into the lobby of the Radcliff Hotel and approached the front desk. If Marlene had been having an affair here, she was doing it in style. The lobby had marble floors, crystal chandeliers. And in the center, a large pool where two black swans were leisurely swimming.

  The young woman behind the desk raised her eyes and spied his badge. “May I help you, officer?”

  “Good morning. I’m Ridge Cooper with the Texas Rangers. He presented a list of dates from Marlene’s credit card statements. “I’d like to speak to the person working the reservation desk on these dates.”

  She studied the dates and times and punched something into her computer. “Check-in time was always Friday afternoon, so that would be Allen Nobles’ shift. He should be here in about an hour. If you’d like to wait, here’s a complimentary ticket to our brunch. I’ll call you when he gets here.”

  Ridge took the ticket, thanked her, and made his way into the dining area, glad he’d skipped breakfast.

  A middle-aged waitress with a weathered face and a husky voice turned over his cup and poured the steaming liquid to the brim. “I’m Fern, and I’ll be your server today. How are you, Hon?”

  “Fine thanks, and you?”

  “I’m fine. Would you like some juice, milk, water, cream or sugar for your coffee?”

  “A glass of water would be nice,” Ridge said.

  She poured the water and recited the brunch specials. “You can go through the buffet or you can order from the menu,” she added.

  Ridge studied the selections for a moment. “What would you recommend?”

  She smiled. “They’re all good, Hon, but I especially like the Southwest Omelet.”

  “Well, Fern. I’ll go
with your recommendation. You worked here long?”

  “Twelve years.”

  “Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

  “What kind of questions?”

  He presented Marlene’s picture. “Have you ever seen this woman?”

  “That’s Mrs. Weston. She’s been coming here for a long time. Why? Something happen to her or her husband?”

  “She came here with her husband?” Ridge asked.

  “Yeah. A big tipper.”

  Ridge placed Carl’s picture next to Marlene’s. “Is this him?”

  She smiled. “No. Her husband is more handsome than that guy.”

  He laid Kyle Richmond’s photo next to them. “What about this guy?”

  Her smile widened. “Yeah, that’s him.”

  * * * * *

  Ridge was finishing his meal when the front desk clerk came to get him and lead him to a small office where Allen Nobles waited. “Mr. Nobles? I’m Ridge Cooper. I understand you worked the desk when Marlene Weston checked in.” He pushed Marlene’s picture toward him.

  “Yes sir, that’s Mrs. Weston.”

  “Did she always check in alone?”