Chapter Thirty-One
WHEN I GOT HOME, I called Tom with the good news.
“Tom! Annie loved our idea! We could be rich!”
“That’s great, Val. But we’ve got each other. We already are.”
My heart pinged and my nose grew hot. “Tom, sometimes you’re so sappy it hurts.”
“Hurts so good?”
“Yeah. Hurts so good.”
“See you in an hour or so, Val.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I...I love you, too, Tom.”
I hung up the phone. My heart felt so much...bigger. I wanted to tell Laverne the news about Date Busters. Then the guys. But a sudden thought had me redial Tom.
“Do you mind if I invite Laverne and the guys over, Tom? I feel like celebrating.”
“Sure, why not.”
“Thanks. Bye.
“I love you, Val.
“Look, you’re not going to make a habit of saying that, are you?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re such a jerk.”
AS USUAL, LAVERNE WAS the first to arrive. She’d probably be the last to leave, as well. She came in carrying a present wrapped up in a big pink bow. She’d used the rest of the ribbon to fashion a hair accessory for herself. Surprisingly, it looked good in her strawberry blonde curls. She handed the box to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“For you. You said on the phone it’s a celebration. What are you celebrating, honey?”
“Lots of things. Laverne, Vance’s sister Annie wants to take Date Busters nationally. We could be rich.”
“That’s nice.”
“You don’t seem that impressed.”
“Well, money can’t buy love.”
I smiled. “I told him. Tom. That I loved him.”
Laverne beamed. “That’s wonderful, honey!” She wrapped her spidery arms around me. “What took you so long?”
“I was afraid. I thought I might say it because I was scared of being alone. Of dying in an alley, living in a cardboard box. Eating cat food, you know?
Laverne shook her head. “I’ve never known a girl as mixed up about her feelings as you, Val. Tell me. What would happen if Tom left you today? Or had a heart attack and died.
“I’d be devastated.”
“Forever?”
I thought about it for a moment. “No. Not forever. Life would go on. I’m a realist.”
“So there you have it,” Laverne said.
“What are you saying? That I don’t actually love Tom?”
Laverne laughed and hugged me again. “No, silly girl. You love him all right. But not because you need him. Because you want him. Big difference.”
I hugged Laverne again and wiped the tears from my eyes. She smiled like a mother donkey, then laughed.
“Open your present,” she said. “Before the others get here.”
As I undid the wrapping, Laverne watched patiently.
“I felt bad you never found Glad’s ashes,” she said. “But don’t forget, you’ve still got that dragonfly pendant. And this picture.”
She held up my favorite picture of Glad. The one I thought was lost forever.
“Where did you find it?” I asked.
“I borrowed it. To make that.” She nodded toward the box. I lifted the lid.
Inside was a little sculpture of an old woman in a one-piece bathing suit sprawled out on a pink lounge chair. Bug-eyed sunglasses adorned her face, along with a wide red-lipped grin.
“Laverne – this is...good!”
Laverne beamed. “My teacher helped.”
I wiped more tears from my eyes and set Glad up on the mantle, next to the figurines of me, Laverne, Tom, Winky, Winnie, Jorge and Goober.
I smiled at my little ceramic clan and looked forward to their arrival, one by one.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MILLY WAS IN MY BATHROOM, primping for a date. She studied her reflection and crinkled her nose. “I hope Vance is nearsighted.”
“Why?”
Milly pulled a pair of bifocals from her purse. “I used to think I looked good until I got these new glasses. Now I can’t un-see what I really look like.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Enough with this, already!” Cold Cuts said. “You two are fine just the way you are. Now, are you two ready to go out and take on the world?”
The Date Busters line buzzed. Cold Cuts grabbed it.
“Hello? What? Who? You’re kidding. Okay. Nothing irreversible. Darn. Okay. Yes, I’ll let them know. Bye.”
“What happened?” Milly asked.
“Did somebody’s date go south?” I asked.
Cold Cuts shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. Well, I mean yes, something like that.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“I guess, what I’m trying to say is...good thing we didn’t buy that RV. That was Annie. Legal just informed her that we’re getting sued. Someone’s filed a complaint against Date Busters.”
“Maybe Nora would help us,” Milly said. “She’s an attorney.”
“I doubt it,” Cold Cuts said dryly. “Nora’s the one suing us.”
Milly’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Apparently, she’s dissatisfied with our services.”
“Well, isn’t that what malpractice insurance is for?” I asked.
“That’s just it,” Cold Cuts explained. “Annie’s legal department shopped Date Busters for liability insurance. No one would touch it. Even Lloyds of London turned us down.”
“What are you saying?” Milly asked.
“That we’re out of business,” Cold Cuts said.
“Geeze! So what does that mean for us?” I asked.
“Clarity,” Cold Cuts replied. “We’ve got the information we need to move on with our lives. We won’t be millionaires today. But tomorrow is another day.”
I WAVED GOODBYE TO Cold Cuts as she drove off in Glad’s old RV. She’d offered to give it back to me, but I’d told her to keep it. She’d been right. Glad wasn’t in there. I turned the tap on the tub and poured in some bath salts. Tom would be over soon. I smiled at the thought of seeing him – of being with him. I wasn’t going to be a billionaire after all. I could use a pair of strong, loving arms to sink into. His would do nicely.
The phone rang. I shut the water off. It was Milly. A stitch of pain stabbed my heart. She’d been devastated at the news of Date Busters’ demise, and of losing her job – yet again.
“Milly? Are you okay?”
“Yes! Oh my lord, Val, you won’t believe it!”
“What? Tell me!”
“I just got off the phone with Mr. Maas. It turns out, Mrs. Barnes was doing crack in the parking lot!”
“Shut up!”
“Ha ha! I know, right? And it gets even crazier! Mr. Maas didn’t order any drug test. Mrs. Barnes must have done it to prank us...or blackmail us for drug money or something. The thing is, she hadn’t planned on us up and quitting over it! Poor old Mr. Maas called me in a panic. He wants me back, Val. He even offered me a raise, and a possible partnership!”
“That’s amazing, Milly! I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks. I knew you would be. And Val? He asked if I needed an assistant. Not a file flunkey, but a real assistant. Want a job?”
“Wow. Can I think about it?”
Milly laughed. “Sure, Miss Commitment. Hey, I’ve got to go. Vance is waiting. Talk soon!”
I CLIMBED INTO THE tub and thought about what a difference a day could make. And about how we all had our little secrets. Some were worth keeping. Some weren’t. I picked up the phone and made one last call before Tom arrived.
Nora picked up the phone on the second ring.
“I want you to drop your suit against Date Busters,” I said.
“Val? Why should I?” she said with contempt.
“I’ve got three words for you, Nora. ‘It’s a girl.’”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would.”
ABOUT A MONTH AFTER Date Busters itself went bust, I was tooling along Gulf Boulevard in Maggie. The top was down and the sky was blue, and everything seemed right with the world. I stopped at a light and glanced over at the cake in the passenger seat beside me. It read: ‘Congratulations, Jorge!’ I was on my way to his house to meet the gang and celebrate his 40th day of sobriety.
“Hey! Thought I recognized your car. How are you, Maggie?”
I looked up at the truck idling to my right. Hanging out the window was the cue-ball head of Lefty, the scrapyard guy. He flashed me a toothless smile.
“I’m doing fine, Lefty. How about you?”
“Never better. Hey, did you ever find that RV you was lookin’ for?”
“Yes, thanks. But I never found the piggybank. That’s what I was truly after.”
Lefty scrunched his tiny eyebrows together. “Huh. It wasn’t no Mr. Peanut bank, was it?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Yes, it was. What –”
The light turned green and the car behind me honked. Lefty hollered out the window.
“Hey Maggie, foller me.”
My heart revved as I got in the lane behind Lefty’s truck and followed him into a gas station.
“You got a minute to spare?” he asked as I drove up beside him. “I got somebody I want you to meet.”
“Uh...I’m on my way to a party.”
“It’s just around the corner. Won’t take a minute.”
“Okay.”
Lefty pulled out of the gas station and turned left at the next block. He took a right and pulled up to a little wooden house with a front yard full of flowers. I pulled in behind him.
The big hulk of a man got out of his truck and waved his huge hand at me. “This way,” he said. I followed him as he limped through the grass along the side of the house to a fenced backyard. He opened the wooden gate and a small girl around five years old peeked out. She shot me a shy, impish grin.
“Y’all come on in,” she said, and took a step back. She limped along the garden path just like lame-footed Lefty. I thought she was just mimicking him until I realized her left foot was artificial. The two stopped at a tiny, one-room garden cottage decked out with gingerbread trim. Surrounded by flowers, it looked like something from a magic storybook. When the two turned to face me, I couldn’t help but think of a soft-hearted ogre and a tiny fairy princess.
“This here’s Sarah,” Lefty said. “She’s a lefty, like me. He wiggled a fat-fingered hand through her light brown hair. “Ain’t that right, Sarah.” Sarah grinned and hid her face in Lefty’s pant leg.
“Sarah, this here lady is the one what lost your friend, Peanut.”
“Oh!” The girl’s eyes lit up. She ran into the garden house, slowed down not a whit by her missing limb.
“It’s congenital,” Lefty said while she was away. “Missing her foot.”
“Is she your daughter?”
Lefty shook his round, bald head. “Niece.”
“Here he is,” Sarah said. She held up the bank. Mr. Peanut’s holographic monocle shifted to wink at me.
“Sarah found old Peanut here when her daddy Karl fixed the engine on that RV of yours. She’s always finding stuff, ain’t you?”
“Yessir. Peanut is my best friend,” Sarah said.
The tiny girl looked up at me with beautiful, brown doe eyes. I wondered if her ears were pointed under that long, silky hair.
“He is?” I asked. “You know what, Sarah? Peanut is very wise. If you ask for advice, he’ll help you see clear through to your own heart.”
Sarah looked at the plastic piggybank in wonder. “Wow!”
“Sarah, what did you do with the sand that was inside Peanut?”
She looked confused for a second, then brightened. “You mean the magic fairy dust?”
“Yes. That’s what I meant.”
“Daddy helped me put it in the garden. We planted seeds in it. They came up real pretty. Wanna see?”
A needle of pain began to stitch in my heart. “Yes, please, show me.”
Sarah grabbed Peanut tight and took me by the hand. She squealed with delight and tugged me along the garden path to a patch of brilliant, yellow daisies.
“Right there, where the golden flowers are,” she pointed. “That’s where we put the fairy dust.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said, as the needle stitched away in my heart. But it was a good pain. As if the stitches were closing an old wound.
A green and purple dragonfly buzzed by me. I turned to Sarah and the insect landed on Peanut’s top hat. The little girl giggled like water running over a brook.
“Look, it’s an angel!” she laughed.
My throat tightened, forcing me to whisper. “Yes. An angel.”
My fingers found the dragonfly pendant around my neck. As I touched it, the tiny iridescent creature flitted away into the clear blue sky.
“Goodbye, Glad” I whispered.
I’m happy for you. Fly free.
DEAR READER,
Thanks so much for continuing on with Three Dumb! I hope you enjoyed the book! It’s a new take on the age old story of self-love versus romantic love. Where do you draw the line between honesty with yourself and with another?
Val’s a middle-aged woman who enjoys her own company – at long last! But now it’s suddenly in jeopardy because a man tells her he loves her. I wanted to explore the idea of a woman who finds love, but doesn’t trust it. She’s been fooled too many times before. Would she be able to let go and trust again? But beyond that, would she be able to stay true to herself? Boy, have I been there, done that!
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Thanks again for reading Three Dumb. Sometimes life really can go off the rails! ;)
Sincerely,
Margaret Lashley
P.S. If you’d like to check out the next book in the series, What Four, I’ve included a sample for you in the back of this book. Or, click here to purchase What Four now:
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Or click here to purchase the next box set—including What Four, Five Oh, and Six Tricks!
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Ready for more Val?
Where does Val go from here? Home for the holidays, of course. Ho Ho...Oh No!
I hope you enjoy the following excerpt from the next Val Fremden Mystery:
What Four: Family Fruitcake Frenzy!
What Four Excerpt
Chapter One
FOR FOLKS WHO CALLED the lower half of Florida home, the winter holidays always arrived without warning. There were no harbingers like frosty mornings or roasted chestnuts. Hell, there wasn’t even a chilly breeze. Instead, like a malicious mugger, one day when we least expected it, Saint Nick ran up beside us, kicked us in the gut, and left us reeling with dread.
Or maybe it was just me.
THE LAST DAY OF NOVEMBER was one of those perfect, 80/80 days that made St. Petersburg the envy of every warm-blooded cre
ature north of the state line. The sky was blue, the temperature was just under 80 degrees, and the humidity was below 80%. I couldn’t have asked for more – except the time off work to enjoy it. Not one to play the odds, I opted for a sure-fire bet instead. I tugged on a bathing suit, turned off my phone, and played hooky from my job at Griffith & Maas.
I lolled away my AWOL morning at Sunset Beach, wading the shoreline and digging my toes into the sugar-white sand that held the Gulf of Mexico’s gentle surf at bay. The shell gods were kind. I found a beautiful left-handed whelk in the surf – a rare oddity, just like my beach-combing days of late. December was less than 24 hours away, yet it took barely an hour for the morning sun to tinge my shoulders pink. I heeded the warning signs of the lobster-hued tourists around me and decided to pack it in for the day.
I felt smug, like an uncaught thief, as I slipped through the picket fence encircling the sandy parking lot of Caddy’s beach bar. When I’d been flat broke last year, I’d found out the lot attendant didn’t arrive until 8 a.m. to start collecting the five-dollar daily parking fee. Since then, I’d made a point to get there early, just as I had today. I grinned at the young man guarding the entryway. He tipped his baseball cap at me, then turned to take the money from the outstretched hand of a young woman in a black jeep. I smiled to myself. Five bucks could buy a lot of tonic for my Tanqueray.
The top was down on Maggie, my vintage 1963 Ford Falcon Sprint. I tested the red pleather upholstery with a fingertip. It was hot enough to sizzle my porky thighs. I lay a beach towel over the bucket seat and tugged a sundress over my bathing suit. I climbed in, set my hands on the steering wheel, straightened my shoulders and smiled.
Ahh! The sun, the sea and a stolen day to myself. What could make this day any better?
Only one thing came to mind.
I turned the ignition key and mashed the gas until the twin-glass-pack muffler rumbled like thunder. As I rolled slowly out of the parking lot, I waved to the sneering attendant, took a deep breath of salt air, and turned left to make my way toward Gulf Boulevard. The four-lane road saddled a thin split of land that jutted out into the Gulf like a bratty kid’s tongue. After passing a string of pastel-hued, low-slung mom-and-pop hotels and junky-looking souvenir shops, I hung a right on Central Avenue and cruised toward downtown – the home of my favorite guilty pleasure, Chocolateers.
Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1 Page 65