Group, Photo, Grave (A Kiki Lowenstein Mystery)

by Slan, Joanna Campbell

  “Don’t never give up on a friend,” said Aunt Penny, putting a hand on my forearm. “You can’t choose your family, but you can pick your friends. A good ‘un is worth every cent in your bank account.”

  “I agree, but maybe she’s not such a good friend. Anyone who refuses to hear the truth, who thinks badly of me, and won’t let me defend myself—”

  “Sounds like a Scorpio.”

  “She is.”

  “Whewie.” Aunt Penny scratched a mosquito bite and left a smear of blood on her calf. “That’s one hard nut to crack. You gotta wait until she sets down that stinger-tail of hers. Then maybe she’ll listen. Maybe she won’t.”

  “She’s sure taking her time,” I said.

  Chapter 23

  Aunt Penny looked me up and down. “What’s going on? You look as wilted as yesterday’s lettuce.”

  I blurted out my concerns about buying the business, Rebekkah’s news about Horace, and Sheila’s report on the murder investigation. “On top of everything, Detweiler is out of town.”

  “You have a lot on your plate. Even if the mix didn’t include a five-year-old boy who’s lost his parents,” said Aunt Penny, as she pulled up a stool and sat next to me.

  “Yes, and I feel horrible even admitting that.”

  “Why? You’d have to be a total fool not to recognize that you all have a tough row to hoe. That little tyke has lost his parents. He’s being transplanted into an entirely new environment. He’s going from an only child to one of three. As is Anya. This is not going to be an easy transition. You’re going from single parenthood to shared responsibility. The new baby is the cherry on top of your sundae. But it might also be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You’ve got plenty on your plate already.”

  Her mixed metaphors tickled me and brought a half-smile to my face. “I’ll survive,” I said.

  “Yes, you will. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have cause to worry. I’d be more than happy to move in with you and help, but you don’t have enough room to swing a cat by its tail. Not that I’d ever do such a thing, but still.”

  “But still,” and then a few tears leaked out.

  “Where is Anya?”

  I explained that she and Rebekkah were taking their sweet time walking Gracie.

  “Better dry your eyes before they come back. Your mission, Mrs. Phelps, is to be as strong and invincible as the Statue of Liberty.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said.

  Once again, I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. At this rate, I wasn’t getting anything done but worrying. As I dried my hands on a paper towel, I heard a man’s voice.

  I walked out to find Aunt Penny talking to Roy Michelson, the contractor I’d hired to knock down the wall dividing the sales floor from the back room. Although he was trying not to stare, her strange get-up obviously had him scratching his head.

  Aunt Penny had switched into her Southern belle, charm-the-pants-off-of-him mode, even though he was at least thirty years her junior. I felt torn between letting her continue, watching her do her thing, and extricating him from her attentions. She was harmless and cute. Three decades earlier, she must have been a real hottie.

  “I see you’ve met my aunt.” I offered Roy my hand for a shake.

  “The family resemblance is striking,” he said.

  Aunt Penny and I exchanged looks. We’ve heard this so often that we’ve long since dispensed with explanations.

  Roy shuffled his feet and looked everywhere but straight at me. “Uh, I, uh, I have bad news.”

  “It’s a load-bearing wall?” I had been worrying about that. If the wall was load-bearing, we would have to add a header and a column. The costs of my renovation would sky-rocket.

  “No.”

  “Whew.”

  “Another problem. Because of another job I’m doing. Those rains we’ve been having? That high wind? Knocked down two walls we’d framed and ruined the subfloor. I hate to do this, but I have to move all my crew to that job. As I told you originally, I could do your work at the low price I quoted you only if we didn’t run into trouble at my other job.”

  Yes, that had been exactly what he’d said. I could see how the rain and wind would have caused a problem. But if he couldn’t get to my job quickly, it wouldn’t be done by the fall. I’d lose out on precious sales, money that I’d counted on having. My pregnant self was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  “What all needs to be done, Kiki?” Aunt Penny perked right up and took command of the conversation.

  I wished she’d given me some privacy. This morning was not going as planned. My hormones were waging a full-out war on me. Tears threatened. I wanted to run back into the ladies room and sob. But instead, I pulled up my big girl maternity panties. “Roy was bringing in a crew to knock down the wall dividing the sales floor from the back room. We planned to expand the sales floor all the way to the back on this, the right side of the building.”

  “Is that all?” She waggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Um, what do you mean by ‘is that all’”?

  “Great day in the morning, girl. I can knock down that wall and frame up your new one. Do the drywall, too.”

  Before I could challenge her carpentry skills, Anya and Rebekkah joined us with Gracie in tow.

  “In fact, I see my construction crew approaching right now,” said Aunt Penny.

  “What?” Rebekkah turned to Anya who shrugged and said, “Huh?”

  “I’m thinking you two could help Kiki with a little construction project. I’d act as your boss, but I’m a great person to work for. I’ve knocked down a lot of walls in my time. Put ‘em up, too. Nothing like good old physical labor to cure what ails you,” said Aunt Penny to the girls before turning back toward Roy. “All I need, young man, is for you to continue to act as the G.C.”

  “G.C.?” I asked.

  “General contractor. Your aunt is suggesting is that I oversee the work, while she oversees the crew. I can check in with her daily and make sure nothing goes wrong. Honestly, knocking out a wall like this one isn’t difficult. It can be time consuming and labor intensive.” He studied Aunt Penny. “You know how to frame in a wall, too?”

  “Sure do,” she said with a wide smile. She crossed her arms over her chest, a stance totally at odds with her costume as Little Bo Peep. “I can put up drywall, tape it, mud over it, and sand it smoother than a baby’s backside.”

  “You’ll call me if you run into any problems?” Roy frowned.

  “Of course I will. You can cut off the electricity to that wall?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then you got yourself cheap labor, Kiki,” said Aunt Penny. She narrowed her eyes. “You will, of course, reduce your price to my niece to reflect that you only acted as her G.C.”

  “Absolutely,” and he stuck out his hand so she could shake it. “I’ll go hit the fuse box and turn off the juice.”

  All four of us females watched him walk to the back of the store. Aunt Penny purred, “Be still my heart. I love that view of his caboose. Choo-choo.”

  Anya giggled.

  “Can you really do this?” I asked. “If you can, it’d be great because I wanted it done by the end of the summer. This is our slow time of year. I don’t want to be tripping over equipment and lumber. Especially in the fall. That’s when our customer count shoots up.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered to help if I didn’t know for sure that I could get it done. As long as I can depend on these two helpers, we should be good to go.” Aunt Penny cocked her head toward my daughter and Rebekkah.

  “I’ve never done anything like this, have you?” Anya asked Rebekkah, who shook her head no.

  Both girls wore expressions of eagerness. A certain electricity crackled around them, and I realized that even if the wall didn’t get done perfectly, it would be a wonderful experience for them. Physical exertion forces you out of your head. Although I didn’t make it to Jazzercise as often as I’d like, when
I did, there was no room in my mind for fretting. I had to stay in the moment and pay attention. The choreography occupied me totally. The movement kept my stray thoughts marching in sync. When I did indulge in wool-gathering, I’d inevitably lose track of the beat or move in the opposite direction of the crowd.

  Besides, how far wrong could Aunt Penny and her makeshift crew go? If Roy checked on them daily, he could set them right. Yes, it would probably take much longer to have these unskilled workers on the job, but that was to my benefit. I’d been wondering how I could keep Anya occupied all summer.

  “All right, but what safety concerns might we have?” I asked.

  “Nothing a little equipment can’t solve,” said Aunt Penny. “Toss me your car keys, and I’ll take the girls to buy hard hats, safety goggles, and any other equipment we need. You both up to date on your tetanus shots?”

  The girls nodded.

  “We’ll test the outlet on the wall after Roy hits the switch in the fuse box. Then we should be good to go, except for a liberal usage of common sense,” said Aunt Penny.

  “Are you planning to work in that outfit?” I asked. I could see her getting one of those flounces caught on a nail. “And Anya? Those are nice pants that Gran just bought for you.”

  “Is there a thrift store nearby? We can stop and I can buy me some jeans and old tees. Stuff for the girls, too.”

  “I can drive,” volunteered Rebekkah. “I know where all the good thrift shops are.”

  “After we get our clothes and our safety gear,” said Aunt Penny, “we can come back and start moving stuff out of the way. Tomorrow we’ll put up plastic sheeting to protect this merchandise from the dust. Because believe me, there’ll be tons of dust.”

  “My aunt seems to have a game plan. This is your last chance to back out,” I said to Roy and waited.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Let’s go check that fuse box. I’ll show you both where it is and what I’m doing. After that, we’ll test the socket to see if it’s live. Wouldn’t do to get zapped the first day on your new jobs. Not when you have such a fine career ahead of you.”

  Chapter 24

  Aunt Penny and her construction crew returned shortly after noon. They were loaded down with bags. My stomach had been growling for the past half hour, so I was glad these bore the familiar soft green and peach tones of St. Louis Bread Co. From each sack wafted the delicious fragrance of fresh bread with a savory overtone promising that at least one held a cup of soup.

  “I don’t get it,” said Aunt Penny as she handed the bag to me. “How come y’all call it Bread Co-oh? Why not Bread Company?”

  All three of us shrugged. “Everyone calls it ‘coh’ to rhyme with ‘dough,’” explained Anya.

  “But isn’t it the same company as Panera Bread?” asked Aunt Penny. “The menu looks the same. The layout and the menu look the same.”

  “Actually,” said Rebekkah as she sipped on a plastic cup of green iced tea, “the company began in 1981 as Au Bon Pain. In 1993, they bought out a local chain called Saint Louis Bread Company. Eventually they morphed into Panera Bread. But luckily for us, they kept the name we all know and love. At least they did here in the Lou.”

  “It’s a bit pricey,” said my aunt.

  I lifted a spoonful of soup to my mouth to hide my smile. My Aunt Penny had been appropriately named, because she knew the art of making a penny holler for mercy. To my mind, Bread Co. was incredibly reasonable, especially given the high quality of the food. But Aunt Penny could find the lowest price vittles in any town where she landed. I remember watching her carefully wrap up the extra bread from our table at a cheap cafeteria. I protested, but we ate peanut butter sandwiches on those leftover slices for the next three days. In retrospect, she’d taught me that valuable lesson: Waste not, want not.

  That lesson served me well, especially after my first husband died. George had provided a comfortable lifestyle for us. Unfortunately, his partner, Bill Ballard, had conspired to have George killed. I was so stupid back then. When that Bill told me that George had embezzled money from the firm, I moved heaven and earth to pay back what I thought my late husband “owed.” I was more worried about saving his good name than questioning Bill’s claim. If I’d been a smarter, wiser, woman, I would have found a good attorney and demanded a forensic investigation of Dimont Development’s finances. But I knew nothing about business. I’d dropped out of college because I was pregnant with Anya. I assumed I was too ignorant to question a “respectable” businessman. To my everlasting shame, I’d acted like a helpless ninny.

  Fortunately, Dodie set me on the right path. She offered me a job at Time in a Bottle. When I dithered over accepting, she put a bit of starch in my undies by reminding me that I had a child to care for. Dodie suggested that I grow up…fast. She became my mentor. Besides teaching me to make smart business decisions, she took the time to help me make a budget. When I had questions about money management, I took them to her.

  Although I wasn’t the daughter-in-law she wanted, Sheila had always been a wonderful grandmother to my child. After George died, Sheila paid the tuition bills at CALA so that Anya could continue there. The swanky private school would have been beyond my humble means, but Sheila came up with the substantial extra financial “gift” expected of all attending families, took care of Anya’s books, and made sure my daughter was dressed to the nines. She also provided pocket money for Anya. In short, Sheila and Dodie had helped me grow from a child into a responsible adult.

  Now I would have the chance to pay it forward by mothering Anya, Erik, and Rebekkah.

  While I finished my lunch, Aunt Penny and her crew talked about the project. Anya changed into a pair of jeans I’d never seen before, and an old AC/DC tee. Aunt Penny disappeared and came back in a Led Zeppelin tee and a pair of jeans. Next, Rebekkah slipped into the backroom and walked out wearing a Grateful Dead tee and a pair of jeans. By the time they were all changed, I was busy choosing papers and embellishments for the Stottlemeyer adoption album.

  “What thrift shop did you all visit? I’ve never seen cool stuff like that at the Goodwill store.”

  “Mooo-oom. We went to Plato’s Closet. Everyone sells their old clothes there. Pretty cool, huh?”

  I had to admit I was impressed. “They have any maternity clothes?”

  Anya is nearly as good at rolling her eyes as I am or my sister is, and she proved it. “Duh.”

  “I bet you could find stuff that would fit,” suggested Rebekkah. “They have a variety of different sizes. Or you could shop in the guy’s area. I used to get all my tee shirts from that side of Plato’s.”

  “An excellent suggestion. Thanks,” I said. My cell phone beeped to reminder me that in an hour I was due for a sonogram at my ob/gyn’s office. I took the opportunity to send Detweiler a text message saying that I loved him. Given the time difference, he was probably starting his day.

  As I finished eating, Rebekkah and Anya began moving more stuff away from the wall that would be coming down. Aunt Penny finished her food, picked up after herself, and went to join the construction crew.

  They’d been at it for twenty minutes when Clancy walked onto the sales floor to begin her shift. “Whoa. What’s with the jeans and Heavy Metal tee shirts? Is there some reason that you are dressed like refugees from the 70s?”

  “Rebekkah and I are going to knock down the wall and build the addition,” Anya explained. “With Aunt Penny’s help, of course. See? We’re moving everything away from the wall.”

  “Right, but you need to keep it organized, otherwise we’ll never be able to find anything.” Clancy fisted her hands on her hips.

  The two exchanged sheepish expressions.

  “Sorry,” said Rebekkah, staring at piles upon piles. “I guess we got carried away.”

  I got up off my stool and wandered over. Clancy was right to be upset. All our merchandise had been dumped onto the floor in untidy heaps while I’d been eating.


  “This is my fault, Clancy. I should have been supervising. We can help you put it away. I’ve got an hour, before my appointment for the sonogram.”

  “Get back to work on that adoption album.” She waved me away. “It’s not as bad as it looks. It probably needed to be sorted anyway. I have to think through how we’ll jam more stuff in less space.”

  “Is today the sonogram? Can I come? I want to see my baby sister,” Anya pleaded with me.

  “That will be so cool,” said Rebekkah.

  “Can you really see anything?” Aunt Penny asked.

  “You can not only see the baby, but using the stethoscope, you can also hear his or her heartbeat. Tell you what. How about if we all pitch in to get this picked up and you can come with, Aunt Penny?”

  “Could I?” Her eyes brightened.

  “Rebekkah, do you want to come, too?” I felt weird asking her, but I also felt weird leaving her out. “We’ve got an hour before we need to leave.”

  Inclusion always beats exclusion. By offering Rebekkah the chance to come with us, I was making good on claim that she was family. I don’t have long arms, but my embrace could expand to include Rebekkah as well as Erik.

  “Thanks but no thanks,” she said. “I’ll help Clancy get organized, and then I better go home and check on my father.”

  “You planning to be here tomorrow? I need to get our names on our hard hats,” said Aunt Penny.

  “I can do that,” I said. “I’ll use letter stickers. Are the hats all the same size? Then that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  After Rebekkah confirmed her interest in slinging a hammer, Aunt Penny suggested a 7 a.m. starting time. “We want to get all our banging around done as early in the day as we can. From what I’ve seen, most of your customers show up in the afternoon.”

  Once again, I was amazed at my aunt’s keen perception. I’d noticed the same. As the temperature rose outside, customers came inside to shop.

  St. Louis helps Missouri live up to its nickname of the “Show me” state, because most of our homeowners like to deck out their yards with colorful flowers. Drive down any street in any one of our 91 municipalities, and you’ll treat your eyes to a profusion of brilliant pinks, tangy oranges, sunny yellows, and snappy shades of purple. But we also we also suffer from miserable summer weather. From spring through early September, you can count on the days getting hot, muggy, and unbearable. As a consequence, smart folks schedule their lives accordingly. Scrapbookers, as a group, are a touch above average in intelligence. (Okay, I admit to a certain prejudice!) So they finish their gardening chores in the cool of the morning and then take advantage of the air-conditioned comfort of stores in the afternoons.