Leave It to Cleaver (A Vintage Kitchen Mystery Book 6)

by Victoria Hamilton

  “He sure does. Jocie is flower girl and Hoppy’s the ring bearer; perfect.”

  Twenty-three

  A FEW DAYS LATER Valetta, Dee, Johnny, Brock and Jaymie attended Rhonda’s memorial service at Iona Welch’s nursing home. There was a small activity room that was set aside that day for them, a cheerful sun-flooded space where crafts were done and teas were held, but today, a teenager who died decades ago was honored. Rhonda’s frail mother wept through the whole thing, her pale, lined face twisted in grief. Petty sat beside her, holding her hand. Jaymie was touched when she saw that Delores Paget was being honored along with Rhonda Welch. She sobbed with grief herself, but also wept at the kindness that saw a forgotten teenager remembered.

  Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” played, and then Petty took the podium and eulogized her beloved niece, Rhonda, remembering her as a witty, bright, lively girl with infinite capacity for love. She repeated what Jaymie had showed her in the journal, Rhonda’s exhortation to herself to Be kinder! Be smarter! Don’t let my heart lead my head. Help and encourage others. That, she said, was the kind of girl she was, showing the kind of woman she would have become.

  She then introduced an older woman, with a deeply lined face and tightly curled gray hair, saying, “This is Marjorie Walker, who was Delores’s mother.”

  “My baby would have been fifty years old soon,” she said, then looked up from the podium. “My daughter’s name was Cindy Lynn, and she was a beautiful baby, my very first, full of smiles and grace and funny spit bubbles. I was an overwhelmed young mom who trusted the wrong woman to care for her. I had her for just eight precious months, and when I look back I remember how tired I was, and how scared to be a mom, but also how much in love with my baby I was, how I lived for those smiles and spit bubbles and the very first laugh.

  “And then she was gone. Just . . . gone. Like she was never there. I lived with all her little pink onesies and bibs and that empty cradle while the police did all they could, but still never found her. All those years—until a week ago—I have looked for my Cindy’s face in every crowd. She was never forgotten.” She paused and scanned the crowd. “I will always miss her. I wish someone could tell me what she was like.”

  Becca stood and approached her. “I can do that, ma’am,” she said, touching the older woman’s arm. Becca looked out to the crowd. “The Delores Paget I knew—Cindy Lynn Walker—had plans and dreams. She loved Tammy Wynette, blue jean jackets, the freedom of summer vacation, horses, and she loved life, even though it was hard for her. People at school saw that she was fierce, but sometimes she was funny. She was smart and the horses loved her. Horses are pretty good judges of character. She taught me how to ride and how to take care of the horses properly, how to brush them and talk to them. I will never forget the summer before she died, and how we spent almost every day riding horses, talking, and making plans for our futures.” Becca paused and turned to the older woman, who stood by her side, tears sliding down her face. “I’ll never forget her. All she wanted was to find her family.”

  Through tears, Jaymie proudly watched her sister. Becca was making sure everyone knew Delores just a little, and that her mother would know that she had one true friend, at least.

  “She died looking for the truth about her life. I know that had she lived, she would have found you,” Becca said to Marjorie Walker. “She was on her way to you, and somewhere, right now, I’m sure she’s overjoyed to know that you never forgot her.”

  Delores’s mother hugged Becca, thanked her, and then returned to her seat and her two other kids, two men who clutched her arms to them with sturdy love. Becca returned to her seat and Jaymie hugged her tightly. With prayers and music, the service was over. Two young women were lost no more, and those who loved them got the chance to mourn.

  • • •

  TAMI MAJEWSKI was charged with one count of first-degree murder in the death of Rhonda and one count of second-degree murder in the death of Delores Paget, born Cindy Lynn Walker. Clifford Paget was charged with manslaughter in the death of his mother, so many years before, and with committing an indignity to a body for concealing Delores’s body, which he had confessed to. He had been dragging her out of the kitchen, he said, when his father and stepmother returned. They assumed he had killed her and always believed that, no matter what he said. Shortly after his father died Clifford decided to disappear, since his stepmother was making his life miserable by threatening to turn him in. He staged the drowning with the help of his friend. Henk Hofwegen was charged with misleading police officers and filing a false police report and pled guilty; his help in breaking the case would be taken into consideration.

  On a slightly humorous note, Chief Ledbetter, one month away from retirement, told Jaymie what had been discovered among Tami’s household garbage; there were five boxes of a well-known chocolate laxative, which she had used to flavor the chocolate cake she handed Jaymie at her wedding shower. The baker apparently thought it would give Jaymie so much discomfort she’d forget about investigating Rhonda and Delores’s murders. As if that would ever happen, the chief said with a chuckle.

  And so it was all over. And yet it would never be over in a sense, not for the families who had lost those two girls. Marjorie Walker had found a sister in grief, though, and she vowed to visit Iona Welch often.

  Twenty-four

  FOR JAYMIE, May flew by with plans, work, fun with Jakob and Jocie, and the Tea with the Queen event, which went off smoothly, as usual. Jocie’s oma made her a ruffled dress and parasol and she took part in the event as Princess Victoria, granddaughter of the queen, regally playing her part with both Mrs. Bellwood on the first day of the tea, and the new Queen Victoria, Imogene Frump, on the second day of the tea. She was so popular that many of the tea drinkers asked to have their photo taken with her and she was featured in the Wolverhampton Weekly Howler!

  But finally, at long last, the big day arrived, the day that would unite Becca and Kevin, and Jaymie and Jakob, in wedded bliss. Despite fears of rain the day dawned brilliant, blue-domed and clear.

  It was a Saturday in mid-June. The sun shone warmly, but without the heat that would come in full summer. The sky was still as blue as it had been at dawn, but a few puffy clouds now drifted lazily across it. Jaymie, in one of the bedrooms of the Queensville Historic Manor, eyed herself in a full-length mirror. She and Becca had been greeted early by a hairdresser, who came from Wolverhampton to their home and did their hair for the wedding. Becca’s was a simple case of fluffing the curls, but Jaymie’s long hair was now curled and dressed in a style with the long tail of the pony trimmed with flowers and draped over her shoulder. Her makeup was simple, not a whole lot more than she normally wore.

  But the dress! The vintage dress was even more beautiful than it had been when she first tried it on. Heidi had it tailored to fit perfectly, and then had it trimmed by a professional with pearls that adorned the lace. Valetta, as her maid of honor, was Jaymie’s dresser and was now done, but still fussed at a last tweak of her flower crown, which held a short lace veil that drifted over her shoulders.

  Jaymie stared at herself in the mirror, unbelieving; she looked like someone out of a book of fairy tales, the long lace dress and laced bodice vintage and yet uniquely her. Becca entered the small room holding Jocie’s hand. Jaymie turned. Both stared at her; tears gleamed in Becca’s eyes behind her glasses. Her voice choked and thick, she said, “Oh, Jaymie, it’s perfect! The dress is perfect.”

  Jocie was pure joy. She hopped on one foot, her pretty pink silk flower-girl dress billowing around her knees as Hoppy, with a dark pink bow around his neck, barked and jumped at her. The child then skipped across the space and hugged Jaymie as Hoppy still yapped, excited by all the commotion of the day.

  Valetta, wearing her maid of honor attire, a rose wrap dress, gazed at the Leighton sisters, one to the other. “You both look so beautiful! I’m so happy for you both!”

  “You two ready? Heidi’s about to have a conniption fit, as my
grandma would say,” Bernie said, hustling in the door after Becca. “They’re ready for you all!” She stopped, though, and smiled. “Wow. We all did it. You gals look so beautiful!” She eyed Becca’s ivory Dupioni fitted silk suit. “This is very nice; more my style than a dress!”

  “Thanks, Bernie, but I don’t think I can see anything right now, much less myself, with how Jaymie looks. My little sister!” She swiped at a tear that welled from her eyes and dripped down, leaving a makeup-less rivulet.

  “Becca, no tears!” Dee, who hustled into the room, said. “Your makeup will be smudged!” She got out a compact and patted at her friend’s face. She was dressed in pale blue, as Becca’s matron of honor.

  “Nothing can happen until I’ve had a moment with my two girls,” Jaymie’s dad, Alan, said, following Dee into the room.

  Valetta took Jocie’s hand and led her out the door, beckoning Hoppy, who, for once, obeyed. “We’ll wait for you downstairs in the entry with Heidi,” she said. Dee smiled and followed their friend out, taking Jocie’s other hand.

  Becca hustled to her younger sister and hugged her carefully. “You look so beautiful,” she whispered, touching the silken curl that lay over her shoulder. She turned to her father. “Daddy, we’ve already done this before a time or two. I’m going to leave you with Jaymie.”

  “Hold it! You’re not getting away without at least one word, sweetie.” He hugged his oldest daughter and kissed her cheek. “This is the last time I walk you down the aisle, I know it. Kevin is a keeper.”

  “I know he is.” Becca turned and said, “Take your time, Jaymie. Don’t let anyone hurry you. This is your day. Jakob will wait.” She retreated to the hall and clattered down the stairs.

  Her dad, looking dapper in a beautiful charcoal gray suit with a pink carnation as a boutonniere, held her at arms’ length. “My beautiful baby girl,” he said.

  Jaymie was nervous, but calm; nervous for the day, and calm about the ever-after part. Every moment of the last year had brought her to this, the gift of a relationship and love she knew would stand the test of time. She had something to say to her father, though, and this was the moment. “Dad, in the last couple of months I’ve gotten a good look at how hard it was for you and mom when I was born.” Reading Valetta’s diaries and talking to Becca about that time had been illuminating.

  “Honey, I—”

  “No, I know,” she said, patting his hand where it clutched her arm and gazing steadily into his blue eyes. “I know you wouldn’t undo any of it. I want to say thank you. You’ve always been there for me, and you raised Becca to be such a good sister, and . . . and Mom . . . I love her so much. We may not understand each other sometimes, but I love her. I want to make sure I tell her that more often.” Her voice choked and she cleared her throat. “And thank you for bringing Grandma Leighton into our home when I was a baby. I think it gave Becca her teenage freedom back, and it gave Mom time to . . . to recover. I know how hard it was for her, having me.”

  Joy Leighton had done her very best to be a good mother to Jaymie despite having some problems after giving birth. People didn’t understand postpartum depression then as much as they now did. She had recently confessed to her younger daughter how much shame she felt over her depression and sense of failure, and they had made peace.

  “Jaymie, I know you and Joy haven’t always had the best mother-daughter relationship,” her dad said gently. “But there was never ever a time when she didn’t love you, when she wasn’t grateful you were born. I never want you to mistake that.”

  “I know that now.”

  They spent some more private moments together, and then he led her down the stairs to join Becca, Dee, Valetta, and the two “groomsmen,” Kevin’s sister Georgina and Jakob’s brother Helmut. Jocie was acting as flower girl for both couples and Hoppy, with two tiny velvet pouches tied to his collar, was the rings bearer.

  Denver got to stay home in peace and be the grouch.

  Heidi, her eyes gleaming with happiness, hugged both brides and consulted her clipboard, a happy Miss Bossy as she whispered orders to everyone, arranging them to suit her. They had decided the weather was too chancy, so they’d hold the ceremony inside, in the large parlors of the Queensville Historic Manor, with the sliding doors opened between the two large rooms and rented chairs placed so there was an aisle for the brides to walk. The brides and their attendants gathered in the large open hall, and the music started.

  The sisters had decided to have their father walk them down the aisle separately, so Heidi sent Dee and Kevin’s sister, Georgina, dressed in coordinating blue and peach skirt suits, down the aisle together. Then Becca, on their father’s arm, headed to her groom, Kevin, to the tune of Elton John’s “Your Song.” Both brides had decided that since it was a nontraditional wedding, they’d walk toward their grooms to nontraditional wedding songs that suited their tastes and personalities. It was all being filmed at Jaymie’s insistence because her one regret was that she would miss some of her sister’s ceremony—the walk down the aisle, at least—while she waited for her own to begin.

  Heidi dashed into the parlor and beckoned Jaymie’s father with a hissed “Come back!” reminding him to come back for his second daughter. Alan Leighton returned, to a ripple of laughter from the crowd; Jaymie couldn’t see him as he trotted back up the aisle, but she could hear the chuckles and thought he was probably mugging for the crowd.

  Heidi then dashed back to the entrance and sent Valetta and Helmut down the aisle together, very slowly, to the strains of Jaymie’s choice of wedding song, Christina Perry’s “A Thousand Years.” Alan joined Jaymie, slightly out of breath, gazed at her, misty-eyed, and kissed her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “You two, now!” Heidi whispered, her face glowing with joy. “Good luck, Jaymsie!”

  As Jaymie’s head swam she took a deep breath, remembering Becca’s advice to be mindful, and started. This was her one and only wedding day. She made sure to look to the left and to the right as they slowly walked. There was Chief Ledbetter, now retired, and a stout smiling woman with him who must be his wife. There was Nan Goodenough with her husband, newspaper owner Joe Goodenough. There were Mrs. Bellwood and Imogene Frump, Bill Waterman, Cynthia Turbridge and Jewel Dandridge, who sat on either side of Petty Welch. Joel Lockland grinned, his fond gaze swiftly drifting to Heidi at the back of the room with her clipboard. The Klausners, Brock Nibley with his two kids, Trip Findley and many, many others were in the audience.

  Then there were their families, Jakob’s large and loving clan, and her own smaller group, including her beloved Grandma Leighton, who sat with her old friend Mrs. Stubbs, both in wheelchairs. And Jaymie’s mother. She paused and caught her mother’s eye; the slim, eager, tiny and perfectly dressed woman blew her a kiss, tears making mascara trails in her makeup.

  Then Jaymie looked ahead and all she saw was Jakob, handsome in a dark suit and rose-colored silk tie. He looked . . . miserable! Her heart constricted, but as she walked toward him, her view changed. He wasn’t miserable at all; his face was twisted because he was trying not to cry, she knew it because she knew him. He stood with his little girl, hand on her shoulder. So Jaymie smiled, and in that moment she felt the thread of their connection tug. He smiled too, as tears coursed down his cheeks and started down hers. She wasn’t normally a crier but there was nothing ordinary about this day.

  Her father kissed her cheek and handed her to her groom, and they all faced the officiant, the kindly pastor from the local Methodist church, who Jaymie well knew from past Sunday-school attendance and numerous town events. Becca and Kevin were wed, in the first of the two ceremonies. They then stood to one side and witnessed the second part.

  The next minutes were a happy blur until they came to their vows.

  “Jakob, one night I stumbled into your cabin, scared and alone,” she said. “I think I knew, in that moment, that I wanted to come back, that I’d seek the comfort of your arms again. I do that now and forever
, and I know I’ll never be alone again.” Jakob smiled, teary-eyed. She looked down at Jocie. “Jocie, you are the daughter of my heart. I . . .” She swallowed hard. “I want to thank your mama in heaven for bringing you into the world. And I hope she knows now that she can trust me with you, now and forever.”

  The pastor prompted Jakob. In an oddly choked voice, he said, “Jaymie, the night you came to my cabin I feel like fate had her hand in it. She brought me a woman I adored right away, a woman who looked on my daughter with so much love, and who has a heart so big . . . I’m grateful and forever thankful. I love you, now and forever.”

  Jaymie and Jakob were pronounced husband and wife, and with Jocie were pronounced family; the two kissed, a lingering kiss interrupted only by Jocie, bouncing impatiently by their side. As cameras flashed, she and Jakob kissed Jocie’s cheeks, too, while Hoppy yapped impatiently.

  Both couples returned down the aisle to applause and cheering, but Jakob pulled her aside and they hid behind a curtain in the front hall. “I love you so much, Mrs. Jaymie Leighton Müller.”

  “And I love you, forever.”

  • • •

  PICTURES WERE TAKEN in various locations; with the two couples alone, with family members, including one tiny bouncy child and one tiny bouncy three-legged pooch. On the porch, in the meadow, by a rustic fence. It took a while. Wedding guests drank cocktails served by Bernice at a vintage bar and ate appetizers prepared and served by a three-woman catering company from a town nearby. The sun descended toward the horizon, the angle of sunlight giving everything a golden glow.

  The big back lawn of the historic home had been transformed, with a large white marquee tent, a wooden dance floor and tables adorned with white damask tablecloths and centerpieces of aqua-tinged Mason jars holding pretty bouquets of late spring blooms. Dinner was a relatively simple meal served buffet-style. Picnic foods were featured: potato and pasta salads provided by local friends, cold meats, salads, fried chicken. But there were plenty of hot entrees too: meat loaf, mac and cheese, and more. The caterers provided roasted chicken and prime rib, as well as homey desserts like peach cobbler and an abundance of fruit pies. Toasts were made, jokes were told, speeches were listened to and bouquets were tossed . . . all the usual wedding ingredients were there times two.