Dad didn’t permit himself the luxury of joining us quite yet, even though his exhausted body definitely needed to park someplace fast. Instead, he took care of unfinished doggie business, unhooking the mutt’s leash, patting her on the noggin and then pointing her water dish out to her. “There’s your water. Go get it, Girl.”
The medium-sized dog zoomed to her dish and lapped up the liquid in lickety-split time.
“Gracie’s such a good dog,” I said as I watched her. “Matt was lucky to find her when he did. According to him, if he hadn’t walked into the Hennepin Humane Society that day, she would’ve been history.”
A clump of my seventy-year-old father’s sandy-brown hair had fallen over his eyes when he was busying himself with Gracie. He pushed the stray hair aside. “Ditto for Matt. Remember what a basket case your brother was after Irene’s death? He could’ve ended up becoming history too.”
“Yes, indeed,” Mother said as her cup of tea grazed her lips.
I strongly disagreed. “No, way. Life’s too precious to Matt.”
My father came to the table and sat near Mom. “I didn’t mean taking his life. I meant work-wise. His mind was beginning to shut up shop.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize.”
Dad quickly changed the subject now. I think he sensed how dumb I felt. “So, Mary, when did you get here?”
“The same time you and Gracie flew out the door.”
The minute the mutt’s name vibrated through the air, she dashed to my side, furiously sloshing water every which way. Her wet doggy fur didn’t intimidate me in the least. I was prepared. The blue jeans I had on had already seen miles of better days. I shoved my chair back and permitted her wet head to rest on my lap.
Dad rested his squarish jaw on the palm of his hand and shook his head. “That was you I passed on the way out? Hmm? Sorry. I thought it was Shirley Nelson, the neighbor from across the street. She called your mom earlier and told her she was coming by to show her something.”
Shirley Nelson? She was fifty pounds heavier than I was if not more and thirty years older. “Did you hear what he just said, Mom?” I whined. “Dad thinks I look like the Nelson lady. There’s no way I resemble her.”
Mom was no help. “Well, you both have the same color hair, Sweetie.”
“Thanks a heap.”
She flashed a smile. “You’re welcome.” She set her blue-and-gray-striped mug down and glanced Dad’s way. “Speaking of that woman, Archie, she hasn’t shown up yet. Thank goodness.”
Even though neither of my parents had felt the need to be sensitive to my feelings, I decided not to dwell on the fact. Nothing would be gained by stomping out. Besides, it wasn’t in my best interest to leave. If I did, I would never learn what was in the oven or be offered a taste. I reached out and smothered my mother’s hands. They were still warm from being wrapped around her mug of tea. “Mom, are you sure an alien hasn’t snatched your body?
“What are you talking about?”
I slowly retrieved my hands. “You always told us kids to be tolerant of others.”
“Well, Mary, I’m finding out the older one gets the less one’s willing to put up with, including Shirley. The woman just doesn’t know when to stop talking and go home.” My mother placed the flat of her hand under her chin. “I’ve had it up to here with her.”
Gracie was still vying for my attention when a solution to my mother’s dilemma popped into my head. “If someone gave her a pet, she’d be too busy to chit chat.”
“A marvelous idea,” Mom mumbled under her breath. “Why didn’t I think of it? Archie, let’s head out to the woods behind the house tonight, find a stray cat and drop it off on Shirley’s porch after she goes to bed.”
Dad raised his thick brown brows. “Rene, our daughter didn’t come all the way out here to hear complaints about our neighbor, did you?”
“Ah, no. Not really.”
“Did you hear that, Rene?”
“Ah huh.” Mom stood and went to the cupboard.
My father turned his full attention to me now. “So what brings you here on such a beautiful day? You should be riding your bike on one of the many park trails near your apartment or sunning yourself on a beach.”
I can understand biking, but lying on the beach in this bulky body. Come On. Laughter was itching to burst forth, but I lassoed it in. That’s a good one. I’ll have to remember to jot that down in my journal for posterity. There’s no way this gal’s robust figure is going to plop down on any beach exposing even an inch of skin until she finds a diet that performs overnight miracles. Mom hadn’t found Dad’s favorite mug yet, so I’d patiently waited till she did so I’d have her undivided attention when I explained my surprise visit.
“You’re right, Dad. It’s a great day for tooling around on a bike,” I said as I stared at the fourth cookie I was about to consume, “but I’ve been busy with other things.”
“Oh? Like what?” he inquired.
Mother set Dad’s cup of coffee in front of him and sat back down.
“Well, you guys said Matt wanted me to check out his apartment, right?”
My parents nodded, “Ah, huh.”
“That’s where I just came from, so I thought I’d swing by and give you a report in person.”
My mother threw her arm around my shoulder. “Thank you, Mary. I didn’t think you’d have a chance to go there so soon. Did Matt leave a huge mess?”
I braced my mug with my hands. “Ah, actually, I was pleasantly surprised. The place was left in pretty good shape.”
Dad cleared his throat. He’s known to do that when he has something of significance to say. “Well, I don’t know what you expected to find, Mary. You certainly can’t classify Matt as a slob.”
“No, you definitely can’t,” I bounced back, “but he’s not a neat freak either.”
Mother interrupted what could have ended up being another lengthy discourse between my father and me. Neither of us liked to admit defeat. “I know what you’re saying, Mary. You thought with Matt’s leaving so abruptly he wouldn’t have had time to clean as thoroughly as he did.”
“Exactly. He didn’t even leave as much as a dirty spoon in the sink.”
“Well, I’m impressed.” Mom passed the plate of goodies to Dad now, making sure the healthier ones were nearest his hand. She was just as vigilant about what he ate as she was about his getting his exercise. After Dad took the plate from her, she turned to me and added, “Did you run into anyone while you were there?”
I didn’t reply right away. I wasn’t sure if I liked where my mother’s questioning was headed.
Thankfully, Dad’s grilling of mother gave me respite for a few seconds. “Who would you expect her to see, Rene? She rarely goes to the Foley.”
Mom’s face dialed to a bright crimson. Obviously she was embarrassed to be cornered in front of me. “I . . . I don’t know, Jim, maybe the cute, single, tall blonde-haired guy who lives next to Matt. I forget his name. Help me out here, Mary.”
My hands suddenly loosened their grip on my mug. Good thing the mug had been resting on the table, or it would’ve been in a thousand pieces. “You mean Rod Thompson, the computer geek who works for the FBI? You can’t be serious, Mother? No way!”
“Why not? When cupid comes calling, he doesn’t ask the fellar or the gal what they do for a living before he shoots them with his arrows. Rod’s handsome, and he has a reliable job, not like some guys you’ve dated over the years: the tattoo artist from Arkansas or the human cannonball from Wyoming.”
“At least they stick around,” I shot back defensively; “FBI agents never know if they’re coming or going. One night they’re in St. Paul and the next in Fairbanks, Alaska. No thank you. The next guy I get involved with is going to have his work firmly planted in Minnesota.”
Da
d tried to diffuse the escalating situation. “Now, gals, there’s more important things to talk about then the dating scene, like politics and where Mary’s going to live once her teaching career ends.”
Why did he have to say, “Career ends”? Tears immediately sprang to the corner of my eyes. I swallowed hard. No tears, Mary. You promised yourself that. You’re a big girl, and big girls don’t cry. Yeah, right.
Setting my moroseness aside, at least while I was in the company of my parents, I brought myself back to what my father said about where I was going to live once my teaching job ended. Was he about to throw out a suggestion? I remained steadfastly silent, waiting to hear more.
“Your mother and I have been fretting over what you’ll do, Mary, once your income is cutoff, and we’ve come up with what we think is a darn good solution.”
Oh, oh. Here comes the move back with the folks offer. I had expected it. My reflexes immediately went into overdrive. I threw up my hands but not in resignation. “No, Dad. I don’t want to hear it.” I took a deep breath and continued to ramble on. “I can’t picture myself moving back home after living on my own for so long. It just wouldn’t work. I’ve got my habits, and you two have yours.”
My mother calmly picked up her blue ceramic teapot and refilled our two empty mugs. “Oh, we don’t expect you to move back home.”
“You don’t?”
“Of course, not.”
I felt foolish. How could I have been so off track? I was positive they’d want their baby to move back home. I mean, what parent wouldn’t? “Sorry, I jumped the gun, Dad. What was it you wanted to share?”
“My sister, Zoe, is in a similar bind.”
“You’ve heard from her?” Some of my most memorable childhood years involved Aunt Zoe. It didn’t matter that she was a grown-up. Whenever she was around, she’d join right in with whatever childish nonsense we were up to. “When can I see her?” I hadn’t laid eyes on my favorite aunt in about a zillion years. Well, fifteen at least. She and her wealthy husband, Uncle Ed, traveled so much I began to pretend she was a gypsy.
“Soon, real soon,” my father softly replied as he ran his hand across his wet lips. “As you know, Ed died a few months ago while they were on safari.”
I nodded solemnly. “Yeah, Mom told me. I felt so sorry for Aunt Zoe, being in a strange land and having no one to turn to for solace.”“Me too,” Dad said. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t her only problem. When she finally returned to the states, she discovered Ed’s bank account wasn’t so bloated after all.”
“But, but that’s impossible,” I sputtered. “How could that be? Uncle Ed was worth millions.”
“That’s true, Kiddo, but the stock market fell a couple times, a ton was spent on travels, and what was left, well, that went to Ed’s children from his previous marriage.”
My jaw dropped to my waistline. “Previous marriage? Are you saying Aunt Zoe wasn’t his first wife?”
“Yes, Mary. That’s exactly what your father’s saying. Your Uncle Ed was married before,” and then Mom turned to Dad and said, “Jim, Mary’s in her thirties. Don’t you think it’s time to stop sugarcoating things for her? Get to the point. Tell her what’s going on.” Oh, oh. Trouble’s brewing in the Malone household. Mom only uses Dad’s first name when she’s upset with him otherwise his middle name is mandatory. Archie was his grandfather’s given name, and that’s what he wants us to use for him.
My father hesitated for a moment longer. “It’s like this. When Ed married my sister years ago, he neglected to change his will, so what was left of his estate went to his two grown sons from his first marriage.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. He had children, and no one thought to share that either?” I asked feeling like a foreigner in the home of my childhood.
“You were so little when they got married, Sweetheart,” my father explained, “and I guess as time went on we just forgot you were never told.”
“But, but,” I sputtered, “Margaret, my own sister, didn’t even spill the beans, and we shared the same bedroom for almost fifteen years. I thought sisters shared everything.” Evidently I was wrong. Gracie tired of my up-and-down emotions. She lifted her head off my lap now and found refuge under the kitchen table with all our stinky feet.
Mother’s soft hands suddenly covered mine. “Well, you know now, Mary, so can we please move on?”
I shook my head to clear it. “Yeah, sure. Why not! So, what’s your solution to my dilemma, Dad?
Before he spouted off his plan, he glanced at Mom for a second. Maybe to get her Good Housekeeping stamp of approval. I don’t know. “We, Mother and I, thought Aunt Zoe could help solve your income problems.”
I scratched my head. “How? You just said she’s down and out.”
“True, but you two could pool your limited resources.”
“What resources? In two weeks I won’t have any.”
Mother spoke again. “You’re so frugal, Mary, surely you have a little nest egg saved for a rainy day.” I didn’t reply. Most of it went out the door when I bought Fiona. “So, we were thinking your aunt and you should live together and then you wouldn’t have to leave your cute little apartment.”
“What? I don’t want to live with anyone else. If I wanted a roommate, I would’ve had one by now. Besides, I’ve already started making plans to move.”
Mom and Dad tilted their heads so they were aligned. They reminded me of Siamese twins. “When did you do that?” they asked in serious unison.
“A couple weeks ago,” I lied. Heck, if they didn’t tell me about Uncle Ed, they sure didn’t need to know I just decided to move a second ago.
Chapter 3
Two Weeks Later
Okay, guys, around the bend there’s a doozy of a corner, and I can’t afford to lose any dishes, so pay attention,” I warned as my three companions and I stepped off the elevator loaded down with boxes. “Just take five paces to the right and then steer to the left a bit and your home free.”
My brother Michael, one of the people assisting me with my move, swiftly smarted off. “Don’t worry, Teach, we kids know how to follow directions. Besides, Alex and I couldn’t bear to see you eating off the floor.” Rowdy laughter from two grown men floated my way.
“Glad to hear it,” I spouted back as I took the lead. The corner I mentioned appeared before me, and I made it past without mishap. Here’s hoping the others do too.
“Hey, Alex, stop goofing around,” Michael shouted.
“I’m not.”
“Then back off my tennis shoes if you don’t want to see me trip.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was that close to you,” came the tired response.
“Stay focused, you two,” I chided, “You’re almost there.”
My new abode was within easy sight now, and I was as nervous as a rattlesnake. To calm myself, I began the countdown. “One, two, three. Here it is, Aunt Zoe. Home sweet home.” I stared at the closed door now but made no attempt to open it. Was moving here a big mistake, or would this new chapter in my life be a blessing in disguise? Only time would tell.
Standing about five inches from me now, Aunt Zoe suddenly busted into my private reverie. “What’s wrong, Mary?”
“Hmm? What?”
Not getting the response she probably had anticipated, she inched ever nearer. “We’re here. Open the door.”
For a mere second, my eyes dropped to the heavy box of books I had loaded myself down with, and then they bounced to the door again. “I, ah, need the key.”
“Well, where is it?” she inquired, “Did you leave it in the truck?”
I shook my head. “No. I think it’s in the back pocket of my jeans.”
“Oh? Well, I can remedy that. Would you like me to get it for you?”
“Sure.” I know what you’re think
ing. I could’ve put the darn box of books down and gotten the key myself. Well, that’s fine for others, but my motto is why do double duty when you can get it done in one stroke. Therefore, I’d hold unto the box until I walked into the apartment.
My dad’s sister quickly set aside the shopping bag she was carrying and stood at attention. “Okay, Sweetie. I’m all hands. Just tell me which pocket the keys in.”
I turned to the right. “My left one.” The jeans were a tad snug, but I figured she ought to be able to get her pudgy fingers between the two pieces of fabric.
Aunt Zoe slowly glided behind my right side now and poked two fingers in a pocket. The box I was holding was beginning to feel heavier and heavier by the second. “No, no. You’ve got the wrong pocket. It’s the other one.”
“Oh, dear, I don’t know why I get those two mixed up.”
I could tell her why, but I didn’t want our roommate relationship starting off on the wrong foot the very first day. “That’s okay,” I calmly stated, “It’s not unusual to get the left and right mixed up.”
“But this happens a lot,” my aunt moaned. Just as she began to correct her mistake, an apartment door opened and then closed. All I could think of was Rod Thompson, the geek from hell. I’d never hear the end of it. He’d laugh uncontrollably at the interesting view, one woman digging in another woman’s pockets. I hurriedly glanced to the left of me. Nope. It wasn’t him; thank goodness.
“Ah, Mary,” Mrs. Grimshaw cheerfully announced, “I see move-in day has finally arrived.”
Before I could respond, Aunt Zoe yanked the apartment key out and almost tore the back of my pants off in the process. “I’ve got it,” her voice shrilly proclaimed as she dangled the key in front of my nose like a freshly harvested carrot.
That’s great,” I replied a bit over the top. “Can you open the door?”
“Oh, of course,” but instead of doing what I requested, my aunt whipped around to face Mrs. Grimshaw. “Hi, I’m Zoe,” she proclaimed loud enough for the whole fourth floor to hear. She extended her plump hand towards our elderly neighbor. “Mary’s my roommate.”
Death at the Bar X Ranch Page 3