by Marja McGraw
Judith gave Chris a gentle smack across the back of his head. “Adopted? That’s enough of that kind of talk, Junior.”
“Don’t call me Junior.” Chris sighed, and Mikey giggled behind his hand.
The family head smack moved on and Chris lightly thunked the back of Mikey’s head. “You’re littler than me, Ace. Watch who you laugh at.”
Mikey smiled. He usually did when Chris used his nickname.
We visited for as long as we could before Chris and I had to get ready to go to work. Our restaurant isn’t the only thing forties themed – so are we. Chris wears vintage suits that were popular in that era, along with vests and a fedora. I generally wear women’s styles from the thirties and forties for the dinner crowd, but my outfits are a little more casual on the rare occasions we work during lunchtime. We even have customers who show up in vintage styles. We try to offer our guests gourmet food and atmosphere. And when times got tough? We lowered our prices. While our competitors are going under, our customers have remained loyal to us. Business is good.
On this particular night, since we’d spent so much time with Chris’s parents, I brushed my long auburn hair into a simple chignon at the nape of my neck and called it good. I slipped into a rayon dress, light yellow, almost beige, with purple and white flowers and a tie belt. It was what had been called a swing dress back in the day. It had some ropey things coming down from the neckline to the bodice, so it had an open feel to it. I added white vintage shoes and headed down the stairs.
Chris’s dad whistled, as did Chris. Mikey made a clicking noise out of the side of his mouth, like he’d seen men do in old movies.
“Why, Pamela, you have a figure to die for,” Judith said. “That dress is perfect for you.”
“Thank you, Judith.” I grinned. They’d all managed to make me feel good about myself, and their comments made
for a good start to the evening.
“Would you please call me Mom?”
“I will. It’s just hard to get used to.”
“Constance called,” Chris said. “I told her Mikey would be staying with my parents for a few days.”
Constance is my old neighbor (pre-Chris), my good friend, and she usually stays with Mikey while we’re working.
I turned to Judith. “Will you and Chris Sr. be bringing Mikey in for dinner tonight? Since school is out he can stay up later.”
“We’ll be there with bells on. Your father-in-law wants to talk to your chef while we’re there. He figures he can learn some tricks of the trade.”
Chris looked at his father. “What’s that all about?”
“Your mother and I are thinking about opening up a diner back home.”
“Ah,” Chris and I said in unison. Gourmet restaurant to diner was quite a leap.
We left for the restaurant, the gang came in for dinner, and Judith left to take Mikey for an ice cream cone while Chris Sr. waited to talk with Luis, our chef.
And, so, we come full circle back to Mikey’s dramatic entrance at Bogey Nights.
~ * ~
“So?” I pushed, putting my thoughts aside and wanting Judith to get on with her story.
“Well, I think we might have found a haunted house. Oh, I’ve always wanted to explore a haunted house.” Judith smiled sweetly, first at Chris and then at me.
Chris Sr. placed his hand on top of Judith’s small one and gently patted it. He was a tall and patient man who loved his wife with all his heart, and he seemed to rather enjoy her idiosyncrasies. “Now, Judith, you know there’s no such thing as a ghost. And I think you’re upsetting Junior and his wife.” He clamped his lips together with the corners of his mouth
slightly upturned, which I’d learned was his way of smiling. His graying head of hair was still full and he had it combed straight back. It was a little longish, which was the way Judith liked it. Chris and his father had matching hazel eyes.
I turned to Chris and saw his jaws tighten again, and those hazel eyes had fire in them.
“Here’s a new and different idea,” I said, trying to head off a family argument. “Maybe you could call him Bogey Man, like I do, instead of Junior.”
Chris’s jaw tightened even more. I wondered how long it would take for his teeth to fall out and start rattling around in his mouth. I touched his cheek gently and his face relaxed, ever so slightly. Chris was generally a very calm man, but sometimes his mother brought out the worst in him. I’d learned this over time when I heard him on the phone with her.
“Mother, do you realize you broke the law? You entered someone’s house without permission. They call that breaking and entering. And you involved our son.”
“No, son, I didn’t break into anything. The window was unlocked. Besides, the house is for sale. Of course they want people to look through it. Oh, and I want to go back in the daylight. The house was full of old furniture and stuff. It was fascinating. There was enough light coming through the window from a street light to get a feel for the place. And just like in a spooky old movie, there was a painting of a mean looking old man hanging on the wall. The light from the window hit it just right so it looked mysterious and exciting. And I could swear I wasn’t alone. Well, I couldn’t have been. Someone had to be carrying the candle I saw. I can’t wait to see what’s upstairs. There were lots of antiques in this place.”
“Did you mention antiques to Mikey?” I was thinking of his den of antiquities comment.
“I said old houses usually had at least some antiques in them.”
“If you went through a window, Mother, you were trespassing. Even if you’d gone through the door it would have been wrong.” Chris couldn’t seem to see he was fighting a losing battle, and he certainly didn’t care about antiques.
Judith turned to face me, tuning Chris out.
“I…” That’s as far as I got. I wasn’t sure what to say to her. She knew how much I loved antiques because we’d talked about them on the phone, and I knew how much I loved exploring.
“Yes, Pamela? Do you want to go with me?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Chris said.
“I, uh…” I glanced at Chris but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, I kinda do.”
Chapter Three
“What?” Chris was surprised to find out I wanted to see the old house and the volume of his voice spoke of a possible spirited discussion in our immediate future. “You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t go back there with my mother. Would you?”
“People are looking, Bogey Man. You might want to lower your voice.” I knew he wouldn’t want to upset the customers.
“You wouldn’t go with her, would you?” His voice was softer, but the irritation and surprise were still there.
“She’s your mother. I can’t tell her no, and I can’t let her go by herself. Would you let her go back by herself?”
He rocked back on his heels and pulled on his earlobe, but he didn’t answer me.
“I thought not.”
“Let’s move this discussion to the office,” he said stiffly.
“Mikey’s waiting in the office.” I knew he wouldn’t want to talk in front of Mikey. I was cookin’ with gas. I had an answer for everything.
Chris stood up and mumbled something about dizzy broads, and walked over to the bar. His father shrugged his shoulders and followed him. I knew Chris had finally asked for nerve tonic when I saw Daniel, the bartender, slide two beers across the bar to Chris and his father.
“I’ve told him not to use words like broad,” I said apologetically, “but he argues it’s a term they used back in the forties. Well, I know they did, but times and slang have changed. It doesn’t really bother me, but he should show you some respect, Mom.”
“Oh, I know how he likes to use old slang. Don’t worry about it. In my own way, I probably am a dizzy broad. But as long as Chris Sr. puts up with me, I’m not going to worry about it.” She seemed to think things over for a moment. “Actually, it might be my fault, at least in part. When Junior realized he looked
like Humphrey Bogart, I encouraged him to talk like Bogey. His father and I thought it was kind of cute.”
“Uh huh. Okay, first things first. I don’t want Mikey involved in this. He’s only seven years old, and he doesn’t need to be in any danger. And, just for the record, Chris really doesn’t like it when you call him Junior.”
“Oh, I know, but old habits are hard to break. As far as Mikey, there’s not really any danger. I know there’s no ghost in the house, but I wanted to make the story more exciting. I’m sorry he didn’t wait for me though. I probably should have just taken him inside the house with me. At least I’d have known he was safe.”
“No! He doesn’t need to be traipsing around some broken down old house. He could get hurt. You never should have stopped at the house in the first place. You should have just gone to the Ice Cream Hut and brought him back here after you were done. You could have gone back by yourself, if you wanted to. If you want to spend time with Mikey, then you have to listen to me. What did you think when you got
back to the car and he was gone? Oh, right, you probably just figured he came back here. Uh huh.”
“But – ”
“No buts,” I interrupted. “You already raised your son, and now I’m raising mine. I’m not taking any chances with my boy. I just about lost it when he was in danger in our last case, even if it was an accident that he became involved.” I knew I sounded harsh, but my son’s safety came above all else.
Judith sat back and folded her hands in her lap, looking deeply into my eyes. “You love Junior very much, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” Why would she ask me a question like that?
“Well, he turned out the way he did because of me.” She stopped and contemplated her words for a moment. “Or maybe it was in spite of me. Hmm. At any rate, I won’t put Mikey in any danger. I promise. I just want him to have some fun while he’s on summer vacation.”
“Okay, but why don’t you two find some other form of recreation rather than the old house? Now Mikey is excited about it, and I know he’s going to nag me to go back there.”
Judith had a look on her face that I couldn’t read. “Well, why don’t you come back with me and you bring Mikey along. Wouldn’t it be okay if you were there with him? I could call the Realtor in the morning so everything is on the up and up.”
Rolling my eyes and smiling, I said, “You’re incorrigible, Judith.” I knew I’d give in and take Mikey along, as long as the Realtor said the house was safe. “Now tell me more about this place.” I knew in my heart that Judith and I were going to get along well, but I also knew it would be a struggle.
“Call me Mom.”
“Sorry, I’m trying to remember.”
As soon as Judith described the house I knew which
one she meant. It was a mish-mash of styles, but more Victorian than anything else. Someone had apparently chosen things they liked about various styles and mixed them together. The old grayish house was an eyesore, but I had to admit I’d been curious about it. It looked so forlorn, sitting between two more modern homes, although one of them was much smaller. The rickety old porch cried out to be repaired and used, and yet the windows made me feel like eyes were watching me when I drove by. I wanted to see what was behind those eyes. The house would thrive under the touch of a paint brush, too.
Suddenly I realized I wasn’t listening to Judith. I’d been rambling around the old house, in my mind.
“…and the furniture might be in good condition because it’s been covered for so long. I won’t know until we pull the covers off.” Judith had been telling me what she saw inside, and I decided I’d better listen. “I have to admit the portrait of the old man gave me the willies though. Of course, I was looking at it in the dark with just a little light from the street. So what do you think?”
I sat back and crossed my arms. “I think we’d better call the Realtor and find out what we can before we go back to that place. I know there’s no mystery there, but it does sound interesting, and I know my son. He’ll nag at me unmercifully until he gets to go back. He’s going to figure you had all the fun while he waited in the car.”
“I’ll call the Realtor first thing in the morning.” Judith leaned on the table and glanced toward the bar where father and son were talking. “Junior can sure be a stick in the mud sometimes.”
Standing up, I said, “Trust me when I say he’s no stick in the mud. He brightens every moment of my day – usually. I’ll go get Mikey. He probably thinks he’s in trouble, and he’s not.” I smiled at Judith. “You are, though. And quit calling Chris Junior.”
“By the way,” she said before I walked away, “the house isn’t really full of old furniture, but there are some things there. And what could be more fun than searching a spooky old house?”
“Lots of things,” I replied. I was lying through my teeth. I couldn’t wait to get a gander of the inside of that house. Gander? My use of the English language sure had changed since meeting my Bogey Man.
Chris let his parents use his forties era green Chevy, and Judith and Chris Sr. took Mikey home before we closed the restaurant. Luis, our chef, was so busy that Chris’s dad never had a chance to talk to him. We’d try it another night. In the meantime, it was well past Mikey’s bedtime when they left. They took the dogs with them, so when Chris and I drove home, it was just the two of us.
“Chris, are you upset with me?”
“No, sugar, not really. It’s just that my mother jumps into things without thinking, and I worry about the consequences.”
“What was it like growing up around her?” I asked.
Chris smiled for the first time in a while. “There was never a dull moment. She always had some cause to work on, or a new hobby to keep her busy. Most of the things she did were kind of loopy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a cause or a hobby,” I said. Lots of women volunteer for causes, and hobbies can help fill the hours of the day. I couldn’t see a problem.
“How about making pillows out of dog hair? All of the groomers in town saved the dog hair for her. Do you know how many people are allergic to dogs? My mother found out when she tried to sell them, plus people thought it was creepy. Or candle making. There’s nothing wrong with making candles, right? Except she added some ‘secret ingredient’ so
the candles would burn brighter and longer, and basically
they were like little bombs. I lost my eyebrows with that hobby. And – ”
“What about her causes?” I asked, interrupting Chris’s train of thought. I could see the hobbies were probably only going to get wilder and Chris was going to obsess about his mother and her ideas.
“She was like those people who chain themselves to trees to save them, except she chained herself to a bathroom stall in a park when they decided to tear out the park and build condos. Unfortunately, no one knew she was inside until they started to demolish the brick building and I started screaming at them to let her out.”
“I can’t picture you screaming.”
“I was a little kid, even younger than Ace.”
“Oh.”
“She doesn’t think things through before she acts. I have to admit my childhood was fun, though.” Chris was smiling and his eyes were far away.
“Your mother’s energy and enthusiasm make things exciting,” I said. “I’ve also learned she embellishes her stories to hook us.”
“Was she embellishing when she said she thought the house was haunted?” Chris asked. “I don’t want you and Mikey getting into something you can’t handle. I worry about you two. I mean, I know there aren’t any ghosts, but there could be something there. Maybe someone is squatting, or there could be drug runners or… Who knows what’s there?”
Reaching across the car, I stroked the side of Chris’s face. “I know you worry, Bogey Man, but we’re okay. Let me see what the Realtor has to say before you get too excited.”
“Ghosts, antiques and old houses. It sounds like something my mo
ther would get excited about. I know she’s been chomping at the bit to try to get involved in one of our mysteries.”
“Yes, Chris, I know. Your mother is an unusual woman
– maybe even a little eccentric – but she’s a good one. I’ll keep her reined in. Trust me on this one.”
Chris turned his gaze on me before quickly looking back at the road. I distinctly saw a look of… Of what? It was a look telling me he thought I was a sucker for falling under the charms of his mother.
Chapter Four
Mikey and I went to church on Sunday morning, and Judith went with us. Her enthusiasm during a sermon about forgiveness seemed genuine, which surprised me because she wasn’t into the whole church thing.
My friend, Lila James, has the voice of an angel and she sang a solo that left my mother-in-law speechless. I was impressed. I didn’t think anything could leave her speechless. I explained how Lila had once become involved in a case with Chris and me, and that she now sang at Bogey Nights a couple of times a week.
“She sings in your cocktail lounge?” Judith looked skeptical.
“Sure. And she draws quite a crowd. Why?”
“I just can’t imagine a religious woman singing at a bar.” Judith didn’t get it.
“First of all, our cocktail lounge is a place where people come to socialize and relax. It’s not the local honky tonk where a bunch of drunks hang out. As far as her being a Christian, well, Christians like to entertain people, too. She’s
good at it – you heard her this morning. Normally she sings
on Saturday nights, but she and her boyfriend had special plans last night.”
“She has a boyfriend?” The look of skepticism was back in place.
“Why not? Is there some rule against Christian women having relationships?”
“Actually, I was thinking of her age. She’s no spring chicken, you know.”
I laughed. “Age has nothing to do with it. As open as you are to life, I’m surprised you feel that way.”