The Sisterhood of the Queen Mamas

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The Sisterhood of the Queen Mamas Page 22

by Annie Jones


  I blinked, and suddenly it was like seeing the place through Jan’s eyes. It was a mess. Big and noisy and dirty and chaotic.

  “It would be impossible to find him in there. He could duck into all sorts of places. He knows everyone and everything, inside and out.” I thought of how he had appeared from nowhere on the day we had come to unload the goods for Bernadette’s booth. “And he can just slip out and through the trees where you can’t see anyone…”

  “Not before he warns everyone in his ring to run.” The officer sighed.

  “And leaves Chloe to take the blame for it,” Jake muttered.

  “Me?” She looked over her shoulder at Jake, who nodded, his eyes somber behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

  “You don’t have to take the blame for it all.” Bernadette said for her friend what she had never seemed to grasp for herself. “You can just tell them where to find Sammy, and they can send a squad car over.”

  “I don’t know where to find him. He used to live out of his car, then he stole my car and lived out of it for a couple days, then he made friends in a bar who let him stay at their apartment for a few days, but they just threw him out.”

  Jake poked two fingers underneath the lenses of his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he said through gritted teeth, “So, you’re saying you don’t know how to find Sammy.”

  Maxine stepped forward, her hand raised skyward. “She might not. But I do.”

  “Of course!” Bernadette clapped her hands. “We could see the whole grounds from up there, and if we used a cell phone we could direct someone right to him.”

  Officer Phife grabbed her radio and called for backup.

  “C’mon, let’s go.” Chloe grabbed Jake by the arm and tugged him toward the balloon.

  “I’d rather you stayed put, young lady.” Officer Phife, who was maybe three years older than Chloe, managed to give the request an air of absolute authority. “I won’t be able to bear all the ribbing if I lose track of two suspects within a few minutes of each other.”

  “I’ll stay here with her while you go after Sammy, Officer. I think I can contain her, and as for being responsible for her, I’m her minister.”

  Officer Phife nodded her thanks and acceptance of the deal.

  “Okay, now, can you commandeer a hot-air balloon in the name of the law? Because I don’t have any cash to pay for a ride on me.”

  Officer Phife held her hands up, in either a sign of helplessness or a gesture meant to show she had no idea what she could do in this case or how to go about doing it.

  “Here.” Jake reached into his back pocket.

  “Never you mind, Reverend.” Maxine slapped at his wrist. “We’re due a free ride.”

  “We, Maxine?” I eyed the billowing fabric.

  “By we, I mean you, Odessa. Like I said before, there’s not enough hot air in all of Texas to get me up in one of those. Now scat. Sammy is getting away!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maxine here. Do not tell me you are looking for Odessa’s homey little musings here.

  I mean, now? I don’t think so!

  This is a defining moment for Odessa. And, in many ways, for Bernadette and Chloe and, if all goes well, that sneaky snake Sammy, too. Now is not the time for setting up scenes or introducing ideas or muddling through Odessa’s thought process.

  This is the time for action.

  I have nothing more to say.

  Oh, wait…Yes, I do.

  Up, up and away!

  Where we normally would have picked our way gingerly through the people and the gravel and the mess, Bernadette and I charged right on through, our objective ever in sight. I don’t know if it was our approach or the still-odd-angled tiara on my head that did it, but as soon as we got within earshot, the ruddy-faced man perked up and hollered our way.

  “Hello! I can’t tell y’all how pleased I am to have one of the queens of our fair flea market joining us for a short ride above the premises today!”

  Everybody looked.

  I suspect that was his intention.

  “Call me Junior.” He thrust his hand out to me.

  “Thank you…uh…” The man was older than me, which meant he was waaaaay too old for anyone to call him Junior. I gave his hand a hearty shake. “Thank you. My friend and I wanted to take you up on your offer of a free ride—and fast!”

  “Your friend?” He motioned toward Maxine, who was stuffing everything back into her fanny pack after rooting around to get her cell phone, which she had given to Officer Phife.

  “Look, I’ll explain it all on the way up,” I said, tugging at the man’s sleeve. “Let’s just get going.”

  Now, you may think I was so anxious because I wanted to catch that Sammy, and that was partly true. I also figured that the longer I had to think about what I was about to do, the more likely it was that I’d chicken out. So in I climbed, and Bernadette after me.

  After her, in got Mr. Call-Me-Junior, his voice booming out instructions about keeping my arms and legs inside the basket like I was suddenly going to hook my foot over the edge and climb out in midair.

  The flame whooshed.

  The basket jostled.

  My heart stopped.

  Suddenly that midair exit didn’t seem so far-fetched.

  And then we lifted up, up, up. Gentle. Smooth. The summer sun shone down on us through the gorgeous colors of the balloon. Blue and yellow and pink and white and green all flooded over my skin. I laughed. What had I been afraid of all this time, I wondered?

  And then I looked down and remembered.

  Everyone was looking up, right at me. At me and Bernadette, but of the two of us, I was the one married to a minister. I was the one who had already embarrassed herself and enough other people that she should know better. And I was the one wearing the tiara.

  My hand went to it. I tried to pull it free. The teeth of the comb on the glittering band dug into my scalp, and it dawned on me that I could give it a yank and return to the ground humiliated and bald or I could let it be.

  “You scan the parking lot.” Bernadette, who had spent the few seconds it took for us to ascend filling Junior in on our plan, directed my attention to the grassy field filled with cars. “I’ll see if I can spot Sammy in the flea market proper.”

  I wanted to protest. Let’s face it, in the small, small world of balloon-borne flea market surveillance, casing the booths is definitely the glamour job. But I knew that if I said anything, I stood a good chance of having it pointed out that at Bernadette’s age she would have the better eyesight. So I dutifully turned my eyes to the rows of trucks and SUVs and minivans and junker cars and our sedan and… “Wait a minute!”

  “Did you find him?” Bernadette swung around, the cell phone pressed to her ear, and the basket swayed. “Do you see Sammy?”

  I grabbed the edge. “No, I see…” Something far more curious, to my way of thinking. “I see my husband, David.”

  “We are looking for Sammy,” Bernadette said, loud and distinct, as if she thought she might be dealing with a sudden-onset case of the condition Gallina Roja had—the inability to concentrate or understand complex instructions in English. She placed her back to me and kept looking.

  I tried not to keep looking at David, winding his way through the cars to the gate, but I couldn’t help it. Why was he out here? What did he want? Had he seen me?

  I ducked.

  Yes, I know. It was a silly thing to do, but I couldn’t help it.

  I ducked and sent the basket jerking around like a…a…a balloon on a tether!

  “Odessa, what are you doing?”

  If the movement of the balloon hadn’t drawn the attention of everyone around, Bernadette’s shriek surely would have.

  I poked my head up.

  Laughter greeted me.

  I found David down below. His head was tipped back and his mouth was open, but I couldn’t tell if it was in laugher or a groan.

  Caught, I knew I had to make up my mind then and there. Wa
s I going to go on trying to be the Odessa who had given up her Royal Service Hostess Queen partyware? Or was I going to be the Odessa I had always been deep down inside? The one who had befriended Maxine and played mama shepherd to a flock of wayward lambs? The one who had climbed into a balloon because she knew it was the right thing to do?

  I stuck my hand up, straightened my tiara and made up my mind. “Hi, David! Can’t talk now! I’m helping out in a police pursuit!”

  I wished I was close enough to see his face.

  But, in fact, it was not my husband’s face I was supposed to be looking for, it was—

  “Sammy!” Bernadette and I both called out the name at the same time. Seems the ruckus I had been making had drawn even his attention. He had stopped next to a pet-supply booth, and he raised his head, shaded his eyes and stared with his mouth open.

  Bernadette spoke softly into the phone.

  And before she even finished talking, Officer Phife had snuck up behind Sammy and thrown him to the ground. She might be a little gal, but she is swift and strong.

  I wonder if she has a boyfriend?

  “Odessa!” Maxine threw her arms open wide as the basket came bumping down to the ground again.

  And just that quick, the crowd closed around us, offering congratulations and asking us what had we been doing up there anyway?

  “She was just being herself,” came a deep, familiar voice from the back. And then David pushed his way through to wrap me in a big, tight hug.

  I started to ask him why he was there, but a commotion made everyone turn and look toward the gate, where Officer Phife was making her way along with Sammy in handcuffs! A second officer, a nice man who I think might have been a good match for the redheaded young woman, came up and escorted Sammy off.

  I gasped and, like the rest of our little group, pivoted around to face Chloe—just in time to catch her trying to sneak away.

  Jake grabbed her by the arm. “You have to go with Officer Phife, Chloe. Answer a few questions. You may even face some charges.”

  “Charges?” Her eyes grew wide. “I didn’t do any—” She stopped herself right there and changed tactics. “I thought that Christians liked to preach the importance of forgiveness.”

  “We do. We also are pretty keen on following the laws of the land.” He moved his hand to her shoulder, so it looked more as if he was offering sympathy than turning her over to the police. “Forgiveness doesn’t change the fact that you have to take responsibility for your actions.”

  “And whatever happens, Chloe—” Bernadette laid her hand on the other shoulder “—we’ll be right by your side. That is, I will. If you need a place to stay while all this gets sorted out, my house is open to you. Likewise, I feel that Abner won’t turn you away if you need a job.”

  I don’t know if it was the name Abner on Bernadette’s lips, or the firmness of her commitment, but Jake pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and studied her in a most protective way. “You might want to consider that offer a minute, Bernadette. We can find a church to do all that for Chloe, but for you to get involved—”

  “I am involved. Chloe is my friend.”

  “I am?” Chloe’s features softened.

  “You are.” Bernadette hugged the girl.

  So did Maxine.

  I did, too. “Call us from the station when they’re done with you, and someone will come by to get you.”

  Officer Phife said a few words to Chloe, and she nodded and followed along.

  I gave David’s hand a squeeze.

  He responded in kind.

  Jake watched the young girl leave, then turned to the woman at his side. “Bernadette, I hope you realize what taking a public stance to help Chloe could mean for you in the church. I will back you, of course, but it could get touchy, since this also involved Helen Davenport.”

  One, two, three heartbeats passed, where I suspect we all—well, Maxine, Bernadette and me, at least—thought about Helen Davenport’s right to judge anyone else and about the damage she could do should she decide to take offense at to Bernadette’s decision. The fact that no one said a word was a silent testament to our faith and to the fact that our ministers were standing right there and would have pulled us back in line so fast…

  “Anyway, it’s the kind of thing that could be divisive in the church, especially when they’ve just brought me in and I haven’t had time to establish myself.” Jake shuffled his worn-out shoes in the mud.

  Bernadette’s gaze met Jake’s. “Are you asking me not to help Chloe?”

  He did not reply.

  I wet my lips, thinking maybe I should say something, but it was the man standing at my side who stepped up and said, “Forgive me for talking out of turn, but I can provide the voice of experience here.”

  Everyone looked at David.

  I held my breath.

  “I don’t know what the relationship between you two is, but Jake, I do know that as a minister, it is easy to get on your church goggles and look at everything around you in terms of what would be right for your church. Not the church, not the whole body of Christ, but your little piece of it.”

  “Yes, I can see how that could happen.” Jake exhaled, his wonderful smile completely gone from his face.

  “Unfortunately, what accommodates your church, what keeps the peace, what makes the shakers and the movers happy, is not always what’s right.” David turned and looked at me. “It’s not right to let your church overrun the people you love. To drown out their voices or take their place in your everyday life.”

  “David, I never thought…”

  He smiled at my unfinished thought, then looked to Bernadette. “Young lady, do not let that happen. Be true to yourself, and don’t wait too long to find out who that is.”

  I touched his face.

  “I won’t,” Bernadette promised. “I mean, not anymore. Jake, I don’t care what the Helen Davenports of our church say. It won’t dissuade me from doing the right thing. It’s right to stand by Chloe and be a vessel for the love of Christ.”

  He nodded.

  “Oh! You ought to hug her!” The balled fists at Maxine’s side were proof that she thought she had to say that or explode.

  I burst out laughing.

  David joined in.

  Bernadette blushed, but only a little And Jake complied. Not a big romantic hug, but a sweet gesture of conciliation. Then he stepped away and smiled.

  What a smile!

  “That’s why he hasn’t married yet, you know.”

  That made me whip my head around so fast to look at Maxine that I thought it might have wrenched something doing it. The whipping, not the looking at Maxine.

  “He became a Christian in his late twenties, and tried to set his life right by proposing to the woman he had been living with.” Maxine related the story in whispers, without moving her lips hardly at all! “She went to a few church functions where she was treated like…you know…and she left him. He became a minister and promised himself he wouldn’t marry any woman who couldn’t stand up for herself.”

  “Interesting,” I murmured.

  “What are you two going on about? On to your next case?”

  We shared a smile.

  “Nope. We still haven’t finished up this one,” I said.

  Maxine put her arm around my shoulder. “I think maybe from this point on we should leave it in God’s hands.”

  “Maxine has a point,” David said.

  “I know!” I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Maxine always has a point.”

  “That’s why she loves me,” Maxine told my dear husband, who chuckled and nodded.

  “And Maxine loves me because…”

  “You don’t have to explain to me why anyone would love you, Odessa.” He kissed my hand. “I do. I always have, even though I haven’t always shown you the way I should have. That’s what I came here to say, Odessa. I don’t want you to stop running around with Maxine, wearing those things and calling yourselves…What d
o you call yourselves?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” I said. “Because it means you’re ready to listen.”

  “Bernadette calls us the Tiara Madres.” Maxine pushed the crystal ornament back on her head like a cowgirl resettling her hat. “But I prefer the term Queen Mama, because…well, that’s who we are!”

  “Queen Mamas, huh?” David narrowed his eyes at us, then cast a sly glance at Jake. “Then what does that make the men in your lives?”

  Maxine and I didn’t confer to come up with an answer. We didn’t play it coy. We didn’t miss a beat. We looked right at the man I loved, who had finally, after all these years, suddenly looked up and found out who I was, and said, “That makes the men in our lives totally blessed!”

  Epilogue

  (We figured we couldn’t fool you twice with putting a chapter heading on something that’s not technically a chapter. Oh, no, you are too smart for that, sister queens!)

  “Is that it, Maxine? It’s been six months since that all happened. I hope I remembered everything. I keep feeling I left out a million little details.”

  “That’s okay, Odessa, nobody wants to hear a million little details, they just want the good stuff.”

  “The good stuff? Like that Chloe cooperated with the state in their case against Sammy and she got probation and community service as her punishment for her part in it all? Or that Sammy went to jail for the credit card scam and they also threw the book at him for hitting Chloe? Or that Reverend Nash went to visit the kid as a favor to us and now he’s involved in a prison ministry that gets him out of the house once a week?”

  “And I ain’t complaining about that.”

  Clink

  “But none of that happened in the story, Odessa.”

  “I know, but it’s good stuff that we can now catch everyone up on. Like what happened with Jan and Morty.”

  “You mean the Christian counseling or the second honeymoon?”

  “Oh, the honeymoon, definitely the honeymoon!”

  “They took a second honeymoon trip to a fancy ski lodge to try to rekindle their romance, and on the first day there, Jan fell down the mountain! Broke an arm, a collarbone and an ankle!”

 

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