Not wanting her to linger on that thought, I jumped in and explained how we knew Ron. I shook my head. "I just saw him a few days ago. I can't believe he's gone."
Marika nodded. "Now that you say that, I think he mentioned you. The pie lady, right?"
I smiled. "Guess I'm always going to be stuck with that name. But yes, that's me." I pointed to Zelda. "Us, actually."
It was clear Marika was not going to invite us inside the house. Though she seemed open, I detected a bit of skepticism in her eyes. Given her life with Ron, perhaps she'd grown a healthy layer of cynicism to protect herself. I couldn't blame her if she had.
Marika nodded. "He liked your pie. Cherry pie, right?" She patted my hand for a second. "Thank you for looking out for him. Ron had a way of getting people to care about him."
"He was a good soul," I murmured.
She nodded. "He was."
"Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need any help with anything?"
She shook her head. "No, thank you. That's kind of you to offer. All the arrangements are made and…" she held out her hands and shrugged.
Her patience was wearing thin, and she looked past me, making me think I had a few seconds before she’d close the door in my face. "Will there be a funeral service? I know we aren't family, but we'd like to go, if that's okay. And his friends from the park probably want to pay their respects too."
Marika looked back to me. "Of course, let me get you the information." When she stepped away from the door I tried to look inside, but she quickly returned and handed me a card. "That's all the information you need."
I read the card. "Saturday? That's pretty fast."
"There's no reason to wait. The coroner released his body today. And Ron's sister is arranging the service.”
"So, it was an accidental overdose?"
Marika kept her cool, but her eyes told me to back off. "Yes, of course. Who would want to hurt him?"
I could feel Zelda getting antsy, but I figured I had one chance with Marika, and I was going to ask whatever I could before she cut me off. "He said something to me about a bad guy. Did he tell you someone was following him?"
Marika laughed, but it sounded forced. "When you've got brain damage, you think all kinds of things. All the bad guys were in Iraq — except Ron didn't understand that. You get what I mean?"
I nodded. "It's just he was so sure of this bad guy and I wondered. And he hated his meds so much that it surprised me he'd overdose on them."
Marika cooled, and her body stiffened, but she kept the smile on her face. "Scotti, my husband was a paradox. The war did that to him. Half the time he didn't even know me. It's hard for people who don't experience it to understand. And I appreciate your concern but there ain't any bad guys — except the ones that lived in my husband's head."
I nodded, realizing if I pushed it any further, we might get a glimpse of the crazy, hanging off the porch railing, Marika.
I stepped back. "Sorry, I guess it's just the shock. I still can't believe he's gone."
Marika relaxed and nodded. "Yes, we're all shocked." Her eyes shifted toward the street as though she was expecting someone. "I'm sorry, but I have to say good bye. As you can understand I have things to do." She pointed to the card in my hand. "You're welcome to attend the funeral. If you have any questions, you can call Ron's sister, Donna. Her number is on the card."
I nodded and put the card in my bag. "Okay. Thanks."
She favored me with one last smile and said, "Thank you for coming by and for the flowers. That was very nice. Good bye." She closed the door.
As we went down the walk, I could feel Marika watching us. Something wasn't right with her. Yes, she was having an affair and maybe that had her worked up, but she didn't seem truly sad. I barely knew Ron, and I'd cried my eyes out. She was his wife. And even though they were estranged, it seemed to me she should've been more upset. Though I've never understood anyone's relationships, not even my own.
We climbed into the jeep, which had heated up in the few minutes we'd spent talking to Marika. Zelda turned the ignition and punched the AC up as far as it would go. "Well, we learned exactly squat. I can't believe I wasted a shower on that."
As Zelda pulled out of the parking space I said, "Pull up the block and park under that sycamore."
"It's a thousand degrees and my AC sucks. I'm not sitting on this street to watch anybody."
"Just five minutes."
Zelda grumbled but complied. "The things I do for you."
I turned in my seat and watched Marika's house through the rear windshield. Zelda cranked down the window and sighed. "Is anything happening yet? Because I sweating my brains out just breathing here."
I shushed Zelda but after five minutes I couldn't take it either. "Okay, let's get out of here. If she's waiting for someone, they're in no hurry to get here."
We drove toward home in silence. I needed to shower again and was expected at Ted's in an hour. But my mind was on Marika Jansen and who she was expecting. Carl Beidemeyer? After the scene on Saturday night that seemed unlikely. Although lovers often fight like alley cats only to make up again. Maybe that was part of their love play — I've heard of stranger things turning people on.
She was probably relieved when we left because it would've looked bad for her lover to show up while she was accepting flowers and condolences for her dead husband, from us. That could explain her darting gaze and disinterest in the conversation. Or not.
Something was wrong in that family, and I wanted to know what it was. I'd call Ron's sister and possibly pay a visit to see what I could learn.
The last four days had been grueling. I wanted to see Ted, but I wished I could go home, crawl into bed, with ten fans pointing at me and sleep for three days. I glanced at Zelda. "What would you say if I suggested we blow off the rest of the week?"
Zelda frowned and shot me a look. "I'd say you were up to something."
I slumped in my seat and groaned. "I just want some down time. The last few days have kicked my butt."
Zelda smirked. "The customers won't like it. Some other truck could come along and steal our route." She looked at me. "And you freak out when you lose customers."
I laughed. "That's true. But we haven't had any time off since we started this business. Don't we deserve a little fun?"
Zelda snorted. "It doesn't matter what I say because you've already decided."
I held up my hands. "If you want to work, be my guest. Maybe Eric will work the route with you."
Zelda smirked. "That ain't happening."
I gave her arm a little shove. "Or Steve. I could give him your number, and you could try something new."
She twisted her lips. "You're full of suggestions today, aren't you?"
"Okay, it's settled then. We take the next few days off."
Chapter Fifteen
I was happy as a kid blowing off school and giggled all the way to Ted's house. Until I saw Melinda’s gray BMW parked behind Ted’s Escalade. I groaned. "Please God, not the mother." I frowned at the sleek BMW, a perfect reflection of its owner, and felt shamed by it. Even Melinda’s car made me feel unworthy. It now made sense why Ted had been so particular about the time I was to meet him at the house. The only upside was that his brothers weren’t slated for this dinner — just me, Ted and his mommy.
I got out of the car and left my overnight bag in the back seat. No point in broadcasting to Melinda that I was spending the night. At least I'd decided to wear a dress and put on some makeup, although I was willing to bet that Melinda looked like something out of a magazine photo shoot. So I’d still look like a dowdy little mouse next to her. I threw back my shoulders and marched up the porch steps.
Ted opened the door before I had a chance to knock. He gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Hi. You look nice." He’d changed out of his work clothes and wore jeans, a plain white tee shirt and was barefoot.
"Isn't your mother here?" I said quietly.
"Affirmative." He pulled
me inside and closed the door. "Mom, Scotti is here."
Did he have to announce it?
Melinda came out from the kitchen. She looked almost regal in a light green dress that was both elegant and casual. "Hello again." She offered her beautifully manicured hand. "How are you Scotti?"
I squeezed her hand briefly and said. "Fine, thank you. How are you?" I smiled because I had nothing else to say and apparently neither did she. We stood there like two smiling cardboard dolls.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your evening, but I had a few things to discuss with Ted. Family matters." She smiled and tilted her head. "I'd love to treat you two to dinner, if you'll let me?"
Ted begged me with his eyes. How could I refuse a man who put up with my crap on a daily basis? "Sure," I said, "That would be lovely."
<<>>
Ted suggested Clancy's in Glendale. They serve great seafood in a casual and easy going atmosphere. It's rustic interior — planked flooring, hardwood tables and chairs, and brick walls — also made it noisy. Not the kind of place you'd want for serious conversation. Which suited me just fine. Ted winked to let me know he had my six. Good. Melinda would have to climb over him to get to me. I felt more confident I'd get through the dinner with only minor injuries.
When the smell of broiling seafood and hot sourdough rolls hit my nostrils my stomach jumped for joy. I'd been living on fast food and pie for the last few days, and my body was screaming for real food. Since I'd be subjected to interrogation, I was entitled to lobster with all the fixings. And a vodka gimlet just for a little extra fortitude.
But Melinda went easy on me — asking about my business, how I learned to cook, and what cooking shows I favored. It turned out we were both fans of the same TV chefs and shared a few laughs how they liked to make budding chefs cry.
I relaxed a little, feeling less like a bug under a microscope and more like a woman out for dinner with her boyfriend and his mother. Plus, lobster. It's impossible to be in a bad mood when you're eating lobster with drawn butter.
Melinda sized me up with her attentive green eyes. "I'm curious, how did you two meet?"
"A car accident," I said without thinking and slathered another hot fluffy roll with butter.
Melinda scolded Ted with a look. "You were in a car accident? And you didn't tell me?"
Ted raised a brow at me. "Calm down, Mother, it was just a fender bender."
I nodded emphatically. "Right. Hardly an accident at all. Remember all that rain last winter? Zelda and I were on our way home, coming off the 210, and Ted stopped suddenly in front of us." I shrugged. "Zee just couldn't stop in time, plus the wet streets, so you know, we bumped."
Melinda scrutinized Ted. "When was this?"
Ted downed half a glass of beer. "Valentine's Day."
I made a face and shook my head. "No, it wasn't."
Ted took my hand and laced his fingers through mine. "Sure it was, honey. Friday, February 14th at four thirty-seven p.m."
I laughed. "That's some memory. What did you do, write it in your diary?"
He rolled his eyes. "I'm in a business that logs everything, and you're surprised I remember the day and time?"
Melinda smiled, but her eyes disapproved. I was sure that in her mind meeting a woman in a fender bender was as bad as picking her up at a bar. "How romantic, meeting on Valentine's Day."
Ted stared at me so hard I blushed. "It was for me."
Don't men understand that women can hear them thinking when they're thinking about that?
Melinda turned to me and tilted her head. "But not for you, Scotti?"
I shrugged. "Well, it was raining and I was tired and slightly injured. In fact, I passed out. Plus, I was upset because I'd gotten some bad news…" I caught Ted frowning and shaking his head then realized I didn't want to be that specific. Melinda didn't need to know the George Manston story and all the trouble it caused for us. I stopped and smiled. "Anyway, I guess it became romantic for me later on."
Melinda nodded. "I see." Her laser green gaze zeroed in on Ted, who squirmed like a schoolboy. "So you've been seeing each other for six months then?"
The look that passed between them made me want to excuse myself to the ladies room for an indefinite period of time. Ted had waited to tell her about us, and she was none too happy about it. I didn't know if I should be bothered about being kept a secret. But I was no expert in what grown men tell their mothers or when.
Ted nodded. "Yeah, that's right." He smiled at me and took my hand. "But it seems like only yesterday."
I felt like a deer in the headlights with both of them waiting for me to lob the ball back into the play zone. And practically kissed the waiter when he brought us the check. "That was a wonderful dinner, Melinda, thank you." I scraped back my chair and stood. "But it's time for this little chicken to go home."
After she and Ted argued about who would pick up the check for ten minutes, Melinda dropped us off at Ted's house. She said she hoped to see me again, soon. I didn't believe her, but I said I hoped so too.
When we got inside the house, Ted grabbed me for a kiss, but I pulled away. "Are you kidding?"
Ted fanned out his arms. "What?" I shot him a dirty look and walked into the living room. He followed me with his arms still outstretched. "What did I do?"
I sat at the end of the sofa and hugged a cushion to my chest. "You could've at least warned me that your mother would be here."
He snorted then sat on the arm of the sofa. "I knew you'd back out."
I flapped my hand at him. "Oh you knew that, did you?"
He moved onto the sofa and sat next to me. "Tell me I'm wrong, then."
I stared at the floor and tapped my foot. "That's not the point."
He rubbed my arm lightly. "What is the point? That you think she doesn't like you?"
I scoffed. "Think? I know she doesn't."
"Of course she does." He moved in for a kiss and I moved to the chair. "Scotti."
"So you didn't notice the holes she was burning into the back of your head? When she figured out how long we'd been together?" I scowled at him. "When did you finally break the news about us? Last week?"
He stared at his hands. "Longer ago than that."
I could feel the tears coming and that pissed me off too. "Why? Are you ashamed of me? You knew she'd hate me, so you put it off as long as possible? Is that it?" I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them. "Then why not just keep me a secret forever? Why bother telling her at all?"
Ted gaped at me. "No, you don’t get it. That's not it at all. Look, she doesn't warm to people right away. I thought if she could spend more time with you…"
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "No Ted, you don’t get it.” I ran my hands through my hair. "It doesn't matter how much time she spends with me. She'll never like me."
"Are we being just a little dramatic?" He leaned over and tipped my face up with his finger. "Why wouldn’t she like you?"
I swatted his hand away. "How could your mother like me, when my own mother thought I was trash?" My voice cracked, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
Realization came into his face. "Oh." He knelt next to me and took my hand. "I'm sorry, baby. I should’ve known all this family stuff would churn up your past." He kissed my hand. "Now I understand."
I pushed him away. "No, you don't."
He looked hurt and I felt bad for snapping at him. I rubbed my aching neck. "I know you want to understand. I know you try to. But how could you understand what it's like to grow up knowing no one wants you? Maybe you didn't have a great relationship with your dad, but he didn't walk out on you. Or hide his identity from you." I sighed. "That's the difference between us Ted, you know who you are and where you came from. You know what it's like to belong — I don't. I never had anybody until Zelda. She's all I've ever had — until you." I broke down. "I'm sorry but you don't understand. Nobody does. Not even me."
He reached for me again. "Scotti…"
But I didn't want his
sympathy. I held up my hands and nodded. "I know. I'm being too sensitive and taking everything personally." I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "And I don't think your mother's a bad person. I know she isn't. But how could your mother care about me when my own mother walked away?" I couldn't look at him because just saying that out loud made me feel ashamed. "I don't even know why you love me."
Ted took me by the shoulders and made me look at him. "Because you're the best thing that ever happened to me." Tears pooled in his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me? Nothing." He wiped my tears. "You're the best person I know, Scotti. Your mother walked away then there's something wrong with her, not you. " He pulled me into his arms. "Baby, you've gotta stop beating yourself up about this. You're not alone anymore. You read me? I'm here and I'm always going to be here. That'll never change. Not ever."
M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2) Page 9