The Rejected Writers' Christmas Wedding (The Southlea Bay Series Book 3)

by Suzanne Kelman

  John jumped in and moved the table for her, as if it were as light as a feather.

  Gladys snarled again. “They don’t pay me to be a weightlifter, you know.”

  We all sat down and Gracie squealed, “Look at all the people around this table. All we need is some ice cream and a cake with candles.”

  “Oh yes,” said Lottie, playing along, “it’s just like a birthday party.”

  “But without the hats and happiness,” added Lavinia as she squinted at the menu. “Lottie, dear, do you have your reading glasses with you?”

  Lottie shook her head, and Doris handed her a pair. “Oh, honey, those are too strong for me,” she said, taking them off her face. “It all looks like it’s written in Chinese.”

  I handed her mine, but they were too weak. “I feel like Goldilocks,” she joked.

  Gladys pulled out a smeared pair with a crack across them from her pocket, and Lavinia put them on.

  “Gladys, these are just right, thank you.” Lavinia looked ridiculous with the crack across the glasses and what appeared to be mayonnaise smeared across the corner.

  Gladys, searching for a pencil in her bra, as usual, asked, “What is it to be, then?”

  John looked terrified.

  Once everyone had ordered and Gladys was gone, Doris beckoned us all in closer. “We need to think. If we were Flora, where would we go?”

  “I just don’t know” Lavinia furrowed her brow. “It’s not like Flora to go off on her own like this. Why didn’t she come to one of us?”

  “Young man,” said Doris sternly. “Exactly what did you write in that letter that scared her half to death?”

  John stared down at his menu but didn’t seem to be taking in much. He appeared to be preoccupied with his thoughts. Almost as if he were ashamed to put it into words.

  Before he could say anything, Annie arrived at the table, a knitting bundle shoved under her arm. “I just heard from the lady in the bakery that Flora’s gone missing. Is that right?”

  “The bakery?” snapped Doris incredulously. “How did it whip around to there so fast? They’re on the other end of town.”

  Gladys arrived back with the drink order, and Doris hushed everybody at the table.

  Gladys raised her eyebrows and set down the drinks. “Though I appreciate you being as quiet as a church crowd,” she said as she sniffed and pulled a bottle of ketchup from her apron pocket, “especially as some of you”—she glared at Doris—“can be more vocal than what’s good for you . . .”

  Doris flushed with anger but said nothing as Gladys brought out a tub of jam from the other apron pocket.

  “But you should know,” Gladys continued, “that if you’re trying to hide it from me that the skinny, flighty one of your group took off in the middle of the night just before her wedding, I already know. My breakfast chef just told me.”

  She adjusted her apron and left.

  Doris slammed her hand down on the table. “This town,” she said. “I’d better call Dan before it hits the shoe shop. That’s only across the road from where he works.”

  Doris dialed the number of the garage on her cell phone. She spoke with the owner for a second, then covered the mouthpiece before saying, “Dan has just walked in. I’m going to ask him to meet us here.” She uncovered the mouthpiece and sounded as sweet as she could, which managed to sound odd coming from Doris—like an insane person trying to sound sane.

  “Hi, Dan,” she said, through her forced smile and glazed eyes. “It’s the Rejected ladies here. We have something we need to talk to you about. I wonder if you could meet us at the Crab. We’re over here eating breakfast. Yes, it is sort of another surprise. You need to come straightaway, and don’t stop to talk to anyone. OK, see you soon.” Doris hung up.

  “Maybe I should buy him a bottle of brandy,” said Lavinia to her sister when she noticed Lottie’s eyes were closed. “Oh Lord, she’s already got her head down. By the way, her prayers are going up today. Who knows what they could bring in?”

  John suddenly got up from the table. “I need to do something.” He left the table and made his way to the back of the restaurant toward the bathrooms.

  Gracie was making smiling faces on her pancakes with her syrup when Dan arrived at the table, his appearance grave as he approached us.

  “Is it true?” he asked desperately. “Flora didn’t turn up for her hair appointment? Her phone is off. I called her house phone again, but it just rang. I thought maybe she was with all of you.” He looked frantically from face to face as he spoke, checking and rechecking for Flora’s.

  “How the blazes did you find out?” asked Doris.

  “The guy who owns the gas station told me on the way to meet up with you all.”

  “You mean Derek? Now, how would he know?” Doris’s tone was incredulous.

  “It doesn’t matter how he found out,” I said, taking his hand. “Dan, I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to find her. She can’t be far away. She doesn’t even like to drive. She must have gone on a long walk or something. Please don’t worry yourself.”

  “But she’s taken her cat and the carrier,” added Doris.

  “Mr. Darcy never leaves Flora’s home,” added Gracie, sucking orange juice from her glass through a pink straw. “He likes being in her little cottage.”

  “Mr. Darcy is gone?” responded Dan desperately as he sank down into a free chair. His face turned from distress to loss. He knew this was serious.

  Just then, Gladys appeared at the table, pulled out her pencil, and shook her head.

  “Oh, another man. You pack of cougars are in fine form today.” Looking at Dan, she asked, “Will you be needing anything this morning? Soup is always a good choice for a broken heart. And don’t worry, there’re plenty more fish in the sea. You’re not bad-looking. Not my type, of course,” she added quickly. “But I’m sure there are lots of girls out there who wouldn’t run off a few days before you walked them down the aisle.”

  The silence at the table was palpable. Only Gladys seemed oblivious to the atom bomb she had just dropped. She had Doris beat, hands down.

  All at once, Ruby arrived and swooshed into the booth, wearing Indian pajamas and a satin turban.

  “What did I miss?” she asked breathlessly.

  Gladys answered her. “The fish is on, the wedding is off. The flighty girl ran off with her cat, and this fellow is on the market again if you’re interested, though this lot already scared off the last red-blooded male they brought with them today.” She finished her monologue dryly, with the signature greeting all the Crab waitresses generally sung out. “Have a Happily Dappily Day!” She put her pencil away, saying, “Nothing more, then? I’ll be back with your bill.”

  Lavinia took Dan’s hand. He looked so shocked. It was if he was weighing the truth in Gladys’s words.

  What if Flora didn’t just have cold feet, I thought to myself, but she actually didn’t want to marry him? And left town to get away from him?

  Dan spoke before he appeared to realize it was audible. “Flora left me?” he said coldly.

  The silence now broken, everyone started talking at once. I got up and sat down next to him. “No, Dan, you can’t think like that. She lights up whenever she’s around you. It’s something more than that. Something’s happened.”

  Dan looked frantic “What? What could have happened?”

  Everyone became silent again as I tried to find the right words.

  Unbelievably, it was Ethel who spoke. “It was that landscaping guy,” she said, pointing at the spot where John had been sitting. “He blackmailed her.”

  Everyone now stared at the chair. He had left for the bathroom a long time ago, and it was obvious now he had no plans on coming back.

  “What?” said Dan, his face changing from shock to anger.

  “I’m afraid it’s true,” I said, trying to soothe him with my tone. “Apparently, John had some information about Flora—about Flora’s past—but decided not to share it. He wa
s going to destroy the evidence, but somehow she found out. We think that may be why she left.”

  The poor boy looked at me, heartbroken. He leaped to his feet and practically ran out the door, shouting over his shoulder, “I need to find her.”

  Doris slammed down her hand, making us all jump. “Cheryl Thompson,” she shouted out jubilantly. She nodded at us, looking satisfied as she started to tuck into her sandwich. We stared at her as she added, “I just figured out how Derek found out about Flora. His wife’s best friend is Cheryl Thompson, who does the garage’s accounts for the woman at the Twinkle.”

  We spent the rest of our time at the Crab in emergency mode. Lavinia would cruise the town, Doris would get on the phone to everyone she could think of to call, I would be the point person collecting information, and Lottie would pray.

  Dan called around midday to say that he’d asked everyone but no one had seen her. Also, the last-minute wedding jobs were stacking up, and he didn’t know what to do about them.

  I called Doris, who said, “I’m on it! I’ll swing by Flora’s now and pick up her wedding contact book and any information,” and hung up.

  Doris called an emergency meeting of the Rejected Writers’ Book Club that evening at her house so we could all figure out the next step. All the ladies arrived worried and preoccupied, except Gracie, who stood in Ethel’s place at the door, welcoming everybody to the house.

  “Thank you all for coming again.” She emphasized the word again as though she were offering a second ride on the carousel at the fair. The doorbell rang, and Dan arrived with Ethel in the front room. He’d aged ten years since that morning. He looked worried, pale, and antsy. The women smothered him in a hug as Gracie pinched his cheeks.

  Lavinia was the first to speak from the love pack. “Dan, you have no idea how sorry we all are that this happened and that it was one of our own—John, our temporary group member—who was responsible.”

  “That’s what you get for encouraging a man to be in our group,” said Ethel from the bottom of the pack. She didn’t appear to be hugging anyone but had somehow gotten gathered up as the ladies swooped in.

  Doris banged her gavel. “Ladies, control yourselves. We have work to do.”

  Reluctantly, we retreated to our areas of the living room.

  “Flora, wherever she is, is probably going to come to her senses before the wedding and realize she wants to be here, and when she does, we need to make sure there is a wedding for her to come to. So we’ll split into two groups—the wedding planners and the searchers—and put our heads together to figure out where she might have gone.”

  Chapter 12

  Twin Cat Burglars & a Shocking Revelation

  After the meeting, Lavinia and Lottie got into their silver-blue Cadillac and sat there for a minute.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” said Lottie with a sigh. “We have to think of all the ways we can help find poor Flora.”

  Lavinia started the car and rolled down Doris’s driveway as Lottie stared out into the gloom.

  She continued reminiscently, “It reminds me of the time when Hank threatened to kill you. Remember when we threw everything we owned into two suitcases and left in the middle of the night? Next thing we knew, we were on the road to who knows where.”

  “How can I forget?” said Lavinia. “Just like two cat burglars leaving the scene of the crime.” As she thought of that night so long ago, an idea struck her. Lavinia spoke decisively. “We have to find out what was in that letter, Lottie dear. It’s the key to this whole thing.

  “I just remembered that when I got his letter, I was so scared that I didn’t want to have it with me because I didn’t want to take those hateful words, and it struck me that maybe Flora has done the same thing. If we can find out what made her run away, perhaps we can find out where she is.”

  “But John has disappeared, too,” answered Lottie. “Doris tracked down where he was staying through our landscaper. He’s embarrassed, no doubt. And we don’t have the time or energy to track two of them. Flora’s the most important.”

  “Maybe there is another way,” said Lavinia, turning the Cadillac toward town. Ten minutes later they were back outside Flora’s house, which was still shrouded in darkness. But Lavinia had an idea.

  “What are we doing here?” asked Lottie.

  “I have a hunch,” said Lavinia, then she pulled out a flashlight from her glove box.

  “Oh Lord,” prayed Lottie as Lavinia jumped out of the car. “You know how my sister is when she gets like this. Keep us safe, for goodness sake.”

  Lottie joined her sister as Lavinia searched about the pots for the key. In the process, she managed to knock over Flora’s garbage can, setting off the neighborhood dogs’ barking.

  “I can’t find it,” spat Lavinia in a hushed tone.

  “Maybe Doris took it with her. We can go and ask.”

  “Why do that?” Lavinia’s smile was devilish as she moved swiftly through Flora’s side gate and into her back garden.

  “Oh no,” said Lottie, sending her eyes skyward as she trailed behind her sister.

  Lavinia swung her beam about the garden, then set the light on what she was looking for in the corner—Flora’s ladder. Lottie followed the beam and let out a breath.

  “No!” she said before her sister had even spoken.

  But it was too late. Lavinia was already making her way toward it. “Come on!” she said over her shoulder. “I noticed that the bathroom window was open this morning when we were in the house. I’ll need help. Grab that end.”

  “I’m doing no such thing, Lavinia,” Lottie said sharply. “This is ridiculous and I’ll have no part of it.”

  Lavinia put a hand on her hip. “If we want to find Flora, we need to get into her house again. This morning we didn’t look around because we didn’t realize how important it might be in giving us clues.”

  Lottie stood rooted to her spot. Lavinia reached out to her imploringly as a last-ditch attempt. “Come on, Lottie. Flora needs our help, and we’re running out of time.”

  But Lottie did not move.

  Lavinia huffed at her sister’s stubbornness. She pulled up the ladder leaning against the wall and tried to maneuver it all by herself around the garden. In the process, she knocked over some geraniums on Flora’s patio, smashing a pot and setting off the dogs’ barking again.

  Lottie blew out air to illustrate her dissatisfaction. “Forgive me, Lord, for what I’m about to do.” She begrudgingly grabbed the bottom of the ladder to help her sister maneuver it successfully across the garden. They pushed and pulled their way through a thick hedge, tiptoeing over the rest of Flora’s potted plants.

  Lavinia stated, out of breath, “Now then, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She placed the ladder against the back of the house and slipped off her green leather pumps. “Hold these, Lottie dear, will you?”

  Lottie appeared worried, and by the movement of her lips, Lavinia knew she was already in full-on prayer mode.

  Lavinia looked up and located the window.

  So, apparently, did Lottie. “Lavinia,” she said without even attempting to keep her voice down, “you can’t mean that tiny, bitty thing? You’re gonna try to climb in through that?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Lavinia started to climb, leaving Lottie no choice but to hang on to the ladder to stop it from wobbling around.

  “Lavinia Marie Labette,” Lottie hissed in her big sister voice. “You will be the death of me.”

  “It’s the opposite, you know. I’m what keeps your heart pumping,” said Lavinia jovially. “Without my adventures, your heart would stop from sheer boredom.”

  Lottie, having moved from prayer to worry mode, said, “You’re going to fall right off that ladder and break a hip, and then what will we do?”

  Lavinia paused to think. “I suppose I’ll have to go to the hospital to be cared for by one of those good-looking doctors.”

  “Lavinia!” hissed Lottie in a strained shriek.r />
  Lavinia beamed down at her as she reached the top. She knew how to wind her sister up. At the window, she slipped her hand inside and was able to reach down and release the catch of the bigger window. Then, popping it off its latch, she sprang it open with such force, it crashed into the ladder and nearly knocked her off. She clung on as Lottie swore mildly.

  “What did you say, Lottie dear?” inquired Lavinia, teasing her sister.

  “You know exactly what I said,” responded Lottie. “And now I have to ask forgiveness. I would say half of my forgiveness prayers come from something you’ve got me into.”

  Lavinia smiled and, having steadied her footing pushed open the window and pulled herself inside. Sliding gracefully to the bathroom floor, she poked her head out the window with the words, “Ta-da!” She placed her hands in the air, as if she’d just dismounted from the high bars at the Olympics.

  Two minutes later, Lavinia had the door open for her sister.

  “Piece of cake,” said Lavinia triumphantly.

  Lottie raised her eyebrows. “Now, why exactly are we here?”

  “We have to try to find that letter.”

  “So you want us to search through her trash?” inquired Lottie indignantly.

  “I do,” answered Lavinia. “I bet the letter from John is still here.”

  Lottie sighed deeply. “Well, if we’re going to be searching through trash, we’re going to need some protection.” She went to the kitchen and found flowery aprons and gloves for them both. She slipped one apron over her sister’s head and handed her some gloves. They started in the kitchen and made their way to the bottom of the garbage, but nothing was there.

  “Flora drinks a lot of peppermint tea,” remarked Lottie as she heaped the trash back in. “That must be good for her.”

  They continued from room to room, rustling through the rest of the trash bins, but there was nothing. Lavinia looked despondent. “I was sure there’d be something. On all of those cop shows, they always find something interesting in the trash.”

  “What about the bedroom?” suggested Lottie, her eyes lighting up. “She may have opened her mail up there.”