by Robin Brande
“Want some help?” Eliza offered. “I don’t mind working while we talk.”
“That would be great. Except I don’t want you to think I got you over here as cheap labor.”
Eliza laughed. “I’m sure you didn’t. Really, I’d be happy to. I like to keep my hands busy.”
They sat at opposite ends of the table. “You can use the cutting sheet if you want, or just estimate it. You want the strips about an inch wide, and about four inches long.” Carolyn demonstrated. “Just pick a print and then a solid color you think would look good with it, lay them on top of each other, and start cutting.”
Eliza chose a burgundy print with dogs on it, and a plain navy for the back.
“You’re going to want to make one for yourself,” Carolyn said, “I swear.”
“I might like this one.”
“We need all these for the girls, but next time I go for fleece I’ll pick up a little extra.”
Eliza smiled. She already liked this woman. She appreciated people who were naturally generous. Jamey had been that way, too.
“So,” Carolyn said, “tell me everything you feel like telling. I promise I’ll only pass it on to most of the neighbors.”
Eliza furnished her with a brief history of her life.
“Jeez, you were only twenty-nine? That must have been awful.” There was no mistaking the pity on Carolyn’s face.
Eliza had had her fill of pity. “It was hard,” she agreed, “but I’ve managed.”
“Yeah, I guess you would, but—”
“So that’s me,” Eliza said. “What about you?”
Carolyn paused in her cutting. “Short, sweet. Married my high school sweetheart when we were twenty, got my degree in nursing, had Katie, work part-time now, that’s about it.”
“Is it wrong to ask how old you are?”
Carolyn laughed. “I hope not, because I would have asked you if you hadn’t already said. I’m thirty-five. So’s Will.”
“Oh, so he probably didn’t know Jamey that well.”
“We both knew him from just around, but yeah, we were a few years ahead.”
Eliza cut a few more strips before adding, “I like to hear about him, you know?”
“Sure, I understand.”
“I mean, he told me a lot, but I still like to hear what other people remember about him.”
As long as I’m the one asking the questions, Eliza thought. She hadn’t told Carolyn she was writing a book. People tended to get nervous when they thought they might be quoted. Eliza just wanted background—a sense of what people thought of Jamey before she met him.
“Well, here’s one,” Carolyn said. “This one was pretty famous. Did you ever hear about the pigeon?”
“No.”
“He shot a pigeon with an arrow.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. He was probably about nine or ten. Nobody knew it was him at first, but there was a picture of the bird in the paper, and someone knew Jamey had been playing around with a bow and arrow, so they ratted him out.”
“He never told me that.”
Carolyn pointed her scissors at Eliza. “That’s because he was a criminal, and he didn’t want you to know. See? You think you know somebody.” Carolyn smiled.
“He really did that?”
“Ask his mom.”
“I will,” Eliza said. “My husband the delinquent.”
“So is it hard?” Carolyn asked her. “I mean...still?”
Eliza stalled while she took a sip of cold coffee. “Some days. It never really goes away, you know? But most of the time I don’t think about it. I keep pretty busy.”
Lies, lies, lies, Eliza thought. You think about him all the time.
“You think you’ll ever...you know, get married? Is that awful to ask?”
“It’s not awful,” Eliza said, “but I doubt I ever will.”
“Why? You’re still young. And pretty.”
Eliza scrunched up her face. “I’m an old hag, as Hildy likes to say.”
“Not about you!”
“Not yet, but I’m getting there.”
Carolyn pointed her scissors again. “Don’t say that. It’s a good thing you met me. I won’t stand for talk like that.”
“All right, maybe not a hag yet—”
“I bet I can find a nice guy for you within a month,” Carolyn said.
“No, thanks.”
“I’m serious! I’ll ask Will.”
“No,” Eliza said firmly. “I’m serious, too. I’m not looking for anyone.”
“But you could still have children!” Carolyn said. “You’re young enough.”
Eliza wanted to kick herself. She was usually so careful about this, but she’d let the conversation get away from her. These were the topics—remarriage, children, getting on with her life—that always hit her hard. People thought they were being helpful—she knew that. But she also knew they had no idea how much they hurt her. At least she didn’t erupt into tears every time it came up anymore. In the first year she felt like she cried all the time.
“Please, Carolyn,” she said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t talk about this anymore.”
“Okay, sure. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know. It’s okay, but let’s just talk about something else now, all right? Tell me about Katie.”
* * *
“How was it?” Hildy asked.
“Very nice. You should have come.”
“You need friends of your own. You should be able to complain about your bitchy old mother-in-law without me around to stop it.”
“Never happen.”
“You’ve only lived with me a few weeks.” Hildy pointed to a page in her recipe file. “What do you think? Think Teddy would like these?”
Eliza reviewed the recipe. “Looks good, but I thought you’d already decided on the menu. Those foods we took over...”
Hildy waved her hand. “Those were just samples. That was the easy stuff. I want to trot out something really good.”
“I think he really liked those horseradish potatoes. I did, too.”
“I’ll keep those. I’m talking about something...spectacular. Something to shove in that David Walsh’s face.”
“Why?” Eliza said, surprised at how forcefully Hildy had said it. “Did something happen?”
“That little—you know what he did?” Hildy asked. “He had his assistant call me this morning. Didn’t even have the guts to do it himself. And the message is ‘they’ve decided to go another way’” she mimicked, “on the salmon.”
“So? What does that mean?”
“He must have tasted some of what we brought Teddy the other night and decided he didn’t like it. Or maybe it isn’t fancy enough. Either way, I’m out a dish.” Hildy scoffed in disgust.
Eliza plopped into the seat across from her at the kitchen table. “How come no one ever told me about the pigeon incident?”
“The pigeon?” It took Hildy a moment to understand what Eliza was asking, but then she roared with recognition. “Oh, the pigeon! What a little monster that boy was, wasn’t he?”
“So it’s true?”
“Of course it’s true! He wouldn’t ever admit it, but I know it was him. Ronny took his bow away after that.”
“Why did he shoot it?”
“Who knows?” Hildy said. “Maybe he didn’t think he could hit it. Jamey was always doing stuff like that—getting some idea about something he’d like to try, then doing it without thinking about whether it could work.”
Hildy looked at Eliza over the top of her half-glasses. “Like you, if you want to know.”
“Me?”
“Sure,” Hildy said. “Why do you think he married you so lickety split?”
“Because...he loved me?” Eliza said it in a way that she hoped was a warning to her mother-in-law. If there were some other story—something bad—Eliza didn’t want to know it. She had her own memories of their rapid courtship, and she wanted to pr
eserve them the way they were.
“He got an idea about you,” Hildy said. “Thought you’d be the perfect girl for him. So he went for it—you know Jamey.”
Eliza nodded slowly. “Is that it?”
“Why did he jump out of that airplane once?” his mother asked. “Why did he climb all those crazy mountains? He was always doing such dangerous things.”
“But you know he never worried about that,” Eliza said. “He was just having fun.” She wished he had worried more. Maybe he’d still be alive.
“He thought they were worth the risk,” Hildy said.
“Yes.”
“Honey, he felt the same way about you.”
6
“Well, don’t you look nice?”
“I’m thinking of pants instead.”
“Not on your life,” Hildy said. “My assistant has to look classy.”
Eliza stood in front of the hall mirror, surveying her costume for the gala. She wore a gray wool dress with a collar that came to her chin and a hem that fell to her calves. It was her Modest Widow dress, the one she wore to fancy occasions where there might be single men on the move. She had bought it for her friend Amy’s wedding, and worn it only once since then.
“A little make up?” Hildy proposed.
“I’m just there to serve potatoes.”
“You should wear your contacts.”
Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Why? What are you trying?”
“Nothing. It’s just that Teddy will be there—”
“I’m sure he’ll have a date.”
“He probably will, since you never called him.”
“I wasn’t supposed to call him.”
“You could have,” Hildy said. “I have his number.”
Eliza sighed. “Stop, all right? I’m doing this as a favor, remember? Don’t make me regret it—or worse, refuse you from now on.”
Hildy held up her hands. “All right, all right, I’m just saying.... Anyway, you look beautiful, even without your makeup and your hair all hidden like that.”
“Food workers should tie back their hair.”
“Yeah, but even a ponytail looks better on you. A bun is so…”
Eliza placed her hands on her hips. “Do you want me or not?”
Hildy chuckled. “Yes, dear, I want you.” She slapped her daughter-in-law’s behind. “Now go get your coat.”
They drove to the Walsh’s Fine Foods in Monarch.
“Good heavens,” Eliza said when she laid eyes on the monstrosity.
“I know. You should see some of their other stores—this one’s only a medium.”
It was a little after four o’clock, and although the store didn’t officially open until six, the parking lot was already a quarter full.
“Other workers,” Hildy guessed. “They must have a hundred of them working tonight.”
Eliza followed Hildy into the store, into the “shopping experience” Ted Walsh had promised.
Just inside the door, where the shopping carts would normally be, was a row of folding tables covered with floor-length white tablecloths.
“Look at that,” Hildy muttered, nudging her chin toward the other caterers already setting up. “They must have all got here early. Didn’t Teddy say four o’clock?”
“Yes, but—”
“There he is.” Hildy waved. “Hi, Teddy!”
He turned and smiled in acknowledgment, then continued his conversation with a small cluster of workers. After a few minutes he broke away and strode toward Hildy and Eliza.
“Now be nice,” Hildy whispered.
“I’m always—”
“Ladies.” Ted favored Eliza with that charming half-smile of his.
“So where do you want us?” Hildy asked. She searched for whatever prime real estate might be left. “Is there somewhere else in the store?”
“No, I want you right up here,” Ted said, “where everyone will pass you. How are you, Eliza?”
“Fine,” she said. “Hildy, I’ll start bringing things in...”
“I’ll get someone to help you,” Ted said. He motioned to one of the men he’d been talking to. “Steve, this is Hildy and Eliza Shepherd. They’re my stars tonight. Give them whatever they need.”
“Well,” Hildy said, raising her eyebrows at Eliza. “Isn’t that nice?”
“Whatever you need,” Ted repeated. “That food you brought me was perfect.”
“Your brother didn’t think so,” Hildy huffed.
“He only likes things with ketchup,” Ted said. “Steve’ll take care of you. I’ll see you both later. I’ve got to get back to work.”
Hildy seemed happy to have someone new to boss around. “Bring a cart out to my car,” she told Steve. “And be careful you don’t drop anything.”
Once they were set up, with burners warming for the potatoes and all the other food ready to set out on trays, Hildy finally seemed to relax.
“Now,” she told Eliza, looking around to make sure no one could hear. “I want you to smile at people tonight. Don’t be yourself.”
“Thanks a lot!”
“You know it’s true. Sometimes you try to act like you’re not really there, but it’s not fair to people. You’re new in town, and they want to get to know you.”
“No one in Monarch is ever going to see me.”
“You don’t know that. Monarch isn’t that far from Careyville, and you’ve already run into at least one person you know.”
“Who? David Walsh? I’d hardly say I know him.”
“The point is—”
“The point is,” Eliza interrupted, “you want me to smile. Fine. I can do that.”
“Not just smile,” Hildy corrected. “Be nice to people. Friendly. Act like you like them.”
Eliza groaned. “I’ll do my best.”
Hildy patted her hand. “I need better than that.”
“You know, some people might say you’re a little mean to your favorite daughter-in-law.”
“That’s because I know what’s best for you.”
“Oh, you do?” Eliza said with a laugh.
“I do, and here he comes now.”
“So, all ready?” Ted asked. Sweat beaded his temples. He glanced around at the various tables. “Everything all right?”
“I think so,” Hildy answered. “How are you? Nervous?”
Ted grimaced theatrically and pulled his collar away from his throat. “Just a little.”
“How many of these have you done?” Hildy asked.
“This is my fourth. David used to be in charge of all the openings, but we’re trying to split up the work more evenly.”
“Oh, so he won’t be here?” Eliza asked hopefully.
“No, he’ll be here, the bastard, pretending to enjoy himself while I sweat it out.”
At six o’clock the staff unlocked the doors and ushered a surprising number of people inside.
“Wow, not much to do on a Friday night,” Eliza said.
“Are you kidding?” Hildy said. “This is big stuff. Wait till you see how some of the people dress—like they’re going to a symphony or something.”
Eliza saw immediately that it was true. Women in high heels and elegant dresses and long fur or wool coats. Men in sports jackets.
“I’m surprised there isn’t a chamber group set up in here.”
“Teddy told me they thought about that,” Hildy answered. “Not a chamber group, but a few violins wandering around. But Davey did that before, and Teddy wanted something different.”
“So what—fireworks?”
“You’ll see,” Hildy answered with a mysterious smile.
Shoppers wandered through the store, sampling the food and wine offered at every aisle. From where their table was positioned, Eliza and Hildy could see only some of the selection: champagne in glasses the guests could keep, engraved with the Walsh’s logo; cheese cut from enormous blocks; red and white wine; cigars; desserts in every shade of chocolate.
“I’m going to n
eed a break,” Hildy warned. “That mousse over there is calling me.”
“Don’t you dare leave me,” Eliza said as she spooned out more mashed potatoes into someone’s empty champagne glass. “I thought Ted said glass was too dangerous.”
“Guess he bought a few brooms. Here you go, ma’am. Enjoy.”
Hildy cast a devilish glare at her daughter-in-law. “You’re not smiling.”
Eliza did. “My face gets tired,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Maybe you should practice smiling an hour a day instead of walking all the time.” Hildy demonstrated her own smile to the next customer in line. “Enjoying yourself? Here you are, enjoy.”
Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, Eliza practiced mouthing. When she lifted her head to tend to the next customer, her smile immediately evaporated.
“Davey!” Hildy said. “I want you to try some of this. I made it special.”
Eliza thought he seemed confused—either because he wasn’t expecting personal attention, or because he forgot who Hildy was. His eyes flitted to Eliza, who quickly looked away. David hesitated before shifting to Hildy’s side of the table.
“Give me your glass,” Hildy ordered. “Try these potatoes first—horseradish.”
“Yes, I already t-tried—”
“Wait, and these,” she said, spooning four mushrooms onto a cocktail plate.
“Yes, thank you.”
“And wait,” she said, holding up her finger. “Just for you, because I remembered how much you like it...”
Hildy bent down and opened a small plastic container whose contents had not yet been set out. “Close your eyes...”
David’s face grew even sterner. “I’m not going to—”
“You’ll like it, Davey—I promise,” Hildy coaxed.
Irritated, David Walsh closed his eyes. The woman in line behind him snickered. David’s eyes flew open and he turned to her. “D-do you think that helps?”
The woman shrugged one shoulder. Her ornate scarf slipped just a bit. Chandelier earrings sparkled beneath her short black hair. “Take your time, Davey, but the rest of us would like a turn.”
David faced Hildy once more and closed his eyes. “Now, please hurry.”
Eliza dearly wished her mother-in-law did not feel it necessary to torture this unwilling and sour-faced man. “Yes,” she agreed, “let’s hurry.”