Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town

by Diana Anderson

  Ted spotted Raven walking toward the green canopy that covered the two gravesites. He walked around the guests and toward her. She saw him and waited for him.

  “Raven, I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?” he said as he stopped in front of her. He lowered his gaze to her cracked and swollen bottom lip that make-up couldn’t hide.

  She looked up at him. “I’m fine.”

  “I wished you’d have called me and let me know where you were.”

  “I’m okay, really. I needed time alone anyway.” She saw her mother approaching and stiffened her back.

  “Why, Agnes, look at you.” Callie looked her over. “Why on earth would you wear blue to a funeral?”

  “Because I wanted to. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Raven turned to walk away, but Callie grabbed her arm.

  “Wait! I’m sitting with you. I can’t stand here any longer in these shoes. I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh, yes I do. A normal person would have a normal funeral for their father in an air-conditioned building. What’s with the graveside services anyway?”

  Raven yanked her arm away. She walked around to the front row of seats and sat down. Ted followed her. She patted the chair next to her.

  “Are you sure?’ he asked.

  “Sit.” She smiled at him.

  He sat down beside her.

  Callie hurried around to sit on the other side of him. She laid the rose in her lap, dug out a tissue from her purse, and fanned herself with the pamphlet again. “I don’t think I can stand this heat much longer. How long is this thing supposed to last?”

  Soon the pastor stepped up and asked all the family and friends to be seated. Five minutes into the memorial service, Callie began sniffling. Her shoulders shook, and she blotted the tissue under her eyes.

  When it was over, Callie stood and laid the red rose on Virgil’s coffin. She turned and looked at Ted and then Raven. “You know, I should have bought two roses so what’s-her-name could have one too.” She shook her head as she eyed the other coffin. “I kind of feel bad about that.” She shrugged. “Oh well.” She eyed Ted. “Can we go now? I’m about to pass out from this heat.” She fanned herself again.

  Raven looked at Ted. “Thanks for coming. I’ve got to get back to Gabriel.”

  “Where is he anyway?” Ted asked.

  Callie listened to the exchange. Raven looked at Callie and then back to Ted.

  “He’s safe. I’m going to take him to Mrs. Rayburn in the morning.”

  “You’re leaving Cypress tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I catch my flight at ten in the morning.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Raven. Maybe I can get to New York one day for a visit.”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “What about me?” Callie asked as she looked from Ted to Raven.

  “What?” Raven asked.

  “You heard me. What about me? Maybe I’d like to go to New York City. I’ve never been there.”

  “After today, you’ll never see me or hear from me again,” Raven said. “But New York City is a big place. Chances of running into each other there are slim to none, so knock yourself out.”

  “Why? I’m your mother.” Callie tossed the pamphlet down on the ground, stomped her foot, and almost lost her balance when her heel sunk deep into the soft turf. She grabbed Ted’s arm.

  “You’ve kicked me out of your house twice in my lifetime and have the nerve to ask me why?”

  Ted jerked his head toward Callie and pulled his arm free from her grip.

  “I was just upset at the time,” Callie said. “Besides, you’re too old for a spanking and timeout, don’t you think?”

  “So backhanding me across my face and kicking me out is your way of punishment? Just like old times, huh? I guess at any age of my life I was too old for timeout or a spanking.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’re going to pout about it now?”

  “You backhanded Raven?” Ted glared at Callie.

  “She had it coming.” She narrowed her eyes at him, stiffened her shoulders, and pursed her lips.

  He turned and put his arm around Raven’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where are y’all going?” Callie called out. “Ted? Ted?”

  When they didn’t respond, she stomped her foot. “I hate both of you. You’re going to pay dearly for this, Ted. And you too, Agnes,” she yelled.

  As she looked beyond them, she spotted a film crew from a television news station pulling into the long driveway. She adjusted the skirt of her dress, fluffed out her hair, and moistened her lips with her tongue. She headed in their direction. In her attempt to sashay over to them, the heels of her shoes sunk into the soil every few steps and upset her balance.

  52

  A car door slammed shut and a moment later the front door slammed shut. Salvador pressed his hands down on the edge of the swimming pool and lifted his body out. He grabbed a towel and dried off, while he eyed the patio door. He saw Callie in the kitchen standing in front of Maggie. A moment later, her finger was in Maggie’s face. Salvador grinned.

  “Oh, she is hot,” he said.

  He headed toward the patio door, opened it, and walked inside. Callie had already left the room. He nodded to Maggie. She looked away. He went into the den. Callie was at the bar. She poured bourbon from a crystal decanter into a tall glass.

  “Would you like me to make you a drink?” he asked.

  She looked at him. “No. I’m capable of making my own.” She eyed him. “You’re dripping water all over the hardwood floor.”

  He looked down, pursed his bottom lip, and then said, “Maggie will get it.” He walked over to stand beside her. “What is wrong? You look sad?”

  “I’m not sad. I’m mad! There’s a big difference.” She tossed back her drink and poured another.

  He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Maybe I make you feel better.”

  “You’re all wet.” She wiggled away from him. “Nothing can make me feel better.”

  He watched her toss back another drink. “I thought after Ted moved out, you would be happy. We would be happy.” He lifted her hair off her shoulders and ran his fingers through the long strands.

  She eyed him. “What are you talking about? Ted hasn’t left me.”

  Salvador leaned back. “Oh, but he did. Last night he put two suitcases in his car.”

  “I don’t know what you saw him putting in the car, but he was home last night.”

  Salvador shook his head. “No, he left and came back and packed his suitcase and then left once more. He did not return.”

  Her brows drew together. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “That bastard!” She threw the glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. A stream of bourbon trailed down. “Nobody leaves me.”

  He frowned at her. “But that is what you wanted for us to be together.”

  “Like I said … nobody leaves me.” She poked a thumb to her chest. “I leave them.”

  He watched her walk across the room and then head up the stairs. He turned back to the bar and eyed the decanter of bourbon. He picked up the decanter, pulled off the top, brought it to his nose, and sniffed. He grinned and took a long swig.

  Ten minutes later, she returned downstairs. He was still in his wet swimming trunks and seated on the sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He had the decanter of bourbon in one hand and the television remote in the other.

  He glanced across the room at her as she headed toward the foyer. “Where are you going, mi amor?”

  “To get my hair done. It’s hotter than blazes out there. I just hope I can get in and out of the beauty shop before I melt again.”

  “You want me to drive you?”

  She turned her head toward him. With an unmasked look of irritation, she shook her head when she said, “Uh, noooo.”

  He shrugged.

  She went o
ut the front door and closed it.

  “Uh, noooo,” he said as he shook his head. He looked back at the television and changed the channel.

  53

  “You didn’t make an appointment, Mrs. Wallace, but I’m sure Melissa can take care of you.”

  Callie fixed her eyes on the receptionist. “I don’t want Melissa. I want Alison. She knows my hair better than anyone in here.”

  “Ma’am, Alison is booked up for today.”

  “Did you just call me ma’am?”

  “I’m sorry.” The young woman gave her an apologetic look. “Let me talk with Alison. I’ll be right back.”

  Callie fidgeted from one foot to the other. After thirty seconds had passed, she began tapping her toe. She glanced around the large room. Layla’s Salon was one chair shy of standing room only. She watched the young woman as she talked with Alison. Alison had scissors in one hand and a comb in the other and snipped at an older lady’s hair as she spoke with the receptionist. Callie recognized the older woman as the mayor’s wife.

  “How long does it take to do an old blue haired lady anyway?” Callie said under her breath.

  The young woman returned.

  “Well?” Callie asked.

  “She’ll have to work you in between her clients, so if you don’t mind waiting.”

  “Whatever!”

  The young woman led her over to a chair next to the older woman. Callie sat down and swiveled the chair around to look into the large mirror.

  “Oh my!” said the old woman. “You’re picture was in the newspaper this morning. You’re that famous author’s mother, aren’t you?”

  Callie looked over. “Why, yes, I am, Mrs. Mayor.” I’m in the newspaper?

  “Oh, nobody calls me that.” Her double chin wiggled when she chuckled. “Call me Wilma.”

  “Of course, Wilma.” Callie smiled.

  “It’s sad what happened to the Neals. Such tragic news.” She shook her head. “And in our little community. Murdered in their own bedroom and to think that we’ve got a murderer or murderers amongst us.” She shook her head again.

  “So, my picture was in the newspaper?”

  “You are so very brave, my dear.” The old woman’s eyes twinkled.

  Callie was taken aback. “Brave? How so?”

  “Well, if it were me, I wouldn’t dare ever appear in public again.”

  “Why wouldn’t I dare ever appear in public again?”

  “The novel. I was told that it’s all true and not a work of fiction.” She shook her head. “Me? I’d have crawled under a rock and never showed my face in public again.”

  Callie studied her for a long moment and then said, “Well, now. It’s only a book. How bad can it be … fiction or … not?”

  “You haven’t read it?”

  “No, I’ve been too busy lately,” she thought a moment, “with my ex-husband’s funeral arrangements.”

  “Well, trust me.” The woman placed a hand over her heart. “The way your character is portrayed in that novel … well, let’s just say, the wicked witch of the west is an angel compared to her. Surely it is a work of fiction, although my book club says different.”

  Callie swallowed hard. She crossed her legs at her knees, turned her head, and looked straight ahead into the mirror. “Alison?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Wallace?”

  “I’ve got a $200.00 tip if you can get me taken care of sooner. And bring me a candy bar from the vending machine out front.”

  “What kind?”

  “Anything chocolate.”

  Alison sped up the process as she worked with Wilma’s hair and then sent her on her way. She then hurried to the front and was back in no time with a chocolate bar. She handed it to Callie and then stood behind her. She looked in the mirror at her. “Roots?”

  “Yes, and trim,” she held up her index finger and her thumb. “About this much off of the ends.”

  Alison took out a cape, flopped it in the air, and then wrapped it around Callie’s shoulders. She used the toe of her shoe to pump the chair lift up to the right height.

  “Have you read Shattered Lives yet?” Callie asked her.

  “I’m about half way through the book.” Alison combed through Callie’s long blonde hair.

  “Do you think it’s a true story about the author’s life here in Cypress?”

  “I really wouldn’t know, Mrs. Wallace. I wasn’t born here, nor was I raised here, but a lot of folks are saying it’s true.”

  Callie thought on that. She glanced around Alison’s work area. A newspaper folded up on her worktable caught her eye.

  “Is that today’s newspaper?”

  “Yes.” Alison spritzed water on a section of Callie’s hair and combed through it.

  “May I see it?”

  Alison reached over, picked it up, and handed to her.

  Callie placed the candy bar in her lap and took the newspaper. She unfolded it and looked at the front cover. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her picture, while holding the novel, was the headline. As she gazed at the picture, a scowl crept across her face. In the photo her eyes were at half mast. She folded the newspaper up and tossed it back onto the worktable.

  As many cameras that clicked away yesterday, they surely had a better shot of me than that. At least, they could have taken another picture.

  She caught a glimpse of something under the newspaper.

  “What’s that?” Callie asked and pointed.

  With scissors in hand, Alison looked where she pointed. “Uh, the newspaper.”

  “No. Under the newspaper.”

  “A hairstyle magazine.”

  “No, under the magazine,” Callie said irritated.

  Alison reached over and lifted newspaper and the magazine to reveal a paperback. “Oh, that’s the book you were asking about.”

  “Is it yours?”

  “Yes.” she looked back at her.

  “May I have it?”

  “To keep?” She raised her eyebrows at her.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not through reading it.”

  “I’ll give you $50.00 for it.”

  “Sold!” She handed her the book.

  Callie snatched the book out of her hand, flipped it open to the first page, and began to read while Alison worked on her hair.

  Two and a half hours, several hundred dollars, and ten chapters later, Callie emerged from the beauty shop. Her mouth was drawn into a frown. She got into her car, tossed her purse inside, and threw the book across the seat. It hit the passenger door and fell into the floorboard. She started the car, backed out of the slot, and took off down the street.

  Her cell phone chirped. Without taking her eyes off the road, she fished inside of her purse. She latched onto the phone and then answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “You stupid bitch!” Angus growled into the phone.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. What the hell have you done? What kind of freakin’ monster did you raise?”

  “What are you talking about? And I resent your name calling.”

  “The book, stupid!”

  “The book? Shattered Lives?”

  “What book do you think I’d be calling you about?”

  “Why, Angus, you’re not even mentioned in the book.”

  “Like hell I’m not. Have you read the damn thing?”

  “I just finished chapter ten.”

  “Oh, well it hasn’t gotten good yet. Just wait until … hold on.”

  She heard what sounded like a drawer being slammed shut and then pages of a book being flipped.

  “Yeah, just wait until chapter sixteen,” he said.

  “Sixteen? What happens in chapter sixteen?”

  “Oh no! You read it.”

  “How many chapters are there anyway? I hate reading.”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “Oh great! Maybe I should wait until they make a movie,” she said.

  “I heard they’re talking ab
out a movie. That’d just be great, wouldn’t it? To have a bunch of Hollywood folks pile into town and draw even more attention. ”

  “I was just kidding. Seriously? A movie?” She glanced in the rearview mirror at herself.

  “You heard me.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Hmmm what?”

  “I was just wondering who’d play me. I hope it’s Angelina Jolie.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Angelina Jolie? She only plays the heroine, dumbass.”

  “Oh.”

  “You never did find out anything about that duffle bag, did you?” he asked.

  “How am I supposed to ask? Raven’s gone now.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  “Back to New York.”

  “That’s just freakin’ great. I can’t get anything out of Cal. I sure can’t get into their safe.”

  “Safe? Who’s safe?” She stopped at a red light.

  “The sheriff’s department,” he said irritated.

  “Why would you want to get into their safe?”

  “The duffle bag is probably in there.”

  “Ohhh.”

  “To hell with it! I’ll never be able to show my face around here again. She’s ruined everything. I’m gonna sue her for every damn dime she has and then some. And when I get through with her, you’re next. After I sue you, I’m gonna kill you.”

  She heard him disconnect. She continued to hold the phone to her ear as if he’d pick it up again. A driver behind her honked their horn. She looked up. The traffic light was green. She took off again.

  Ted’s left me. Angus is going to sue me. What am I going to do?

  A store front sign caught her eye. She slammed on the brakes. The driver in the car behind her laid on their horn. She dropped the phone into her lap, whipped into a parking slot, and eyed the sign over the door.

  Rhoda’s Fortunes

  Callie dropped her phone into her purse and got out of her car. She stepped onto the sidewalk, hurried to the door, and opened it. A bell jingled overhead. She closed the door behind her and turned in a circle as she eyed the room.