“Dad’s recipe. He uses…used sausage and bacon fat in the gravy. That’s the secret.”
Tammy pranced in. “Good afternoon, Oh-Donna.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s only eight thirty. I didn’t sleep that long.”
Perry said, “I’ve been up since five. Walked your dog—”
“She’s not my dog. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Walked your dog, drove over to Giant, stocked up on groceries, dog kibble and I bought her two bowls, a collar, leash and a big old beef bone to gnaw on.”
I demanded, “Where’s my purse?”
“Relax, my treat.”
I shoved my plate away. “What are you buttering me up for?”
Tammy said, “So, Oh-Donna, have you any idea where Mom is?”
They both stared at me with baited breath.
“You need some mouthwash, Tammy.”
“Hey!”
I grinned. “Why would you think I’d know where Chloe is?”
Perry said, “I talked to the Metropolitan Police. Chloe rode a train to Miami and checked in and out of a hotel. You took a plane from Miami to Dulles.”
“Really?” I gulped a big swig of tea. I made a face. “Too much sugar, Perry.”
He snatched my cup, dumped it in the sink and then refilled it with a tea bag and hot water from the cow kettle. He plopped it down in front of me. A little sloshed out. Tammy mopped it up with her white paper napkin.
I said, “I’m the one who took the train to Miami and checked into the hotel. I had Momma’s purse. I was on the lam, remember? I was accused of torching Little Mount Vernon. And you, Brother, really assumed I did it, didn’t you? I remember you ‘thanking’ me.”
Perry said, “Ah ha! So you’ve been using Chloe’s charge cards!”
“Twice. That’s all. In my whole life. You probably have your own complete set.”
He looked a little guilty. Tammy too.
My sister said, “Oh-Donna, do you have any idea where Mom might have gone?”
If I let on that my feelings for Chloe had changed, they’d know I’d found her because I would break down and blurt it all out. I really needed to talk to somebody about it. But who? Maybe Reverend McFeely could spare a moment for me this afternoon. I could invite him to lunch. “No. If you find her, please let her know she’s very welcome to move in with me. And by the way, get out!”
“That’s not very nice, Oh-Donna,” Perry said. “We’re here to take care of you.”
“Stop with the brain-damaged retarded sisterly love bit. I know you both have ulterior motives. I’m not sure exactly how black they are or what fable undercurrent you’re trying to blow my mind with—just like Daddy used to do.”
Tammy said, “Fine. I’m leaving. Perry, I can stay with you, right?”
He dramatically said, “My sisters are always welcome to whatever I have. If you change your mind, Oh-Donna, you can come and stay at my house.”
Yeah, in a hundred years I will. Hey, they were really leaving. I followed them to the front door. “Try Palm Springs.”
Tammy said, “What?”
“Palm Springs. You know, Momma always went there every year for her spa getaway.”
Perry said, “Yeah…she was always glowing when she returned. Thanks. We’ll get on that lead. Listen. Call me if you need anything. If you feel another fainting spell, try to call nine-one-one real quick, ’kay?”
“Don’t worry. My narcoleptic dreams are gone. I’m past that.”
Tammy said, “But you had one yesterday. Oh-Donna, please let me stay and take care of—”
“I’m fine. Thanks. Have a happily ever after. Bye-bye now.” I firmly shoved them out the door and pushed on it until it clicked.
I remembered I hadn’t checked the mail yesterday. I waited until after my Payne-in-the-butt siblings drove off before I went out to the mailbox. The Great Dane scrambled out with me, nearly tripping me down the brown brick steps. And back up again. I huffed but let her come back inside.
I threw the mail on my computer desk and stretched my leg to toe the surge protector on. The printer whizzed and groaned. I opened the bill from my cellular phone company.
Well, I guess I needed to take care of this. I picked up the house phone and entered a million numbers and pound keys and listened to all the menus. I finally reached a live person, who not only shocked me by issuing a credit retroactive to the accident, she said she’d have a courier bring me a new phone and I’d have it tomorrow. Wow. Service with a smile and this was a Sunday no less.
I opened a government letter.
Dear Orpha D. Payne,
Please accept our condolences on the passing of Nathan L. Payne. We know this is an emotional time for you, therefore we have opened an interest-bearing account in your name and deposited the proceeds of Nathan L. Payne’s insurance policy in it. Please complete the enclosed form with your Social Security number, phone number and complete address and we will send you the checkbook within five working days.
Well, how about that? Daddy really did name me as beneficiary of his veterans’ life insurance. The funeral home must’ve notified Social Security and so on. Wow. An efficiently run government. How did you like that? Just fine, I did.
I filled out the form and reached for a return address label from up in the cubbyholes over my desk. I noticed an envelope tucked up there. I pulled it out. Oh right. The self-addressed stamped envelope from the editor that I sent the partial to. The one I was supposed to meet at the conference that I missed because—
I slit it open with a pencil.
Dear Orpha,
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to read your first three chapters and synopsis of Hundred Dollar Bill. While I was very interested in the story, we do not publish that historical time period.
You are a talented writer and show much potential. Have you another story that you could send me? If so, please send the first three chapters and a two-page synopsis.
Regards,
Elizabeth Claytor
Senior Editor, Really Good Books
I smiled. Finally, a good rejection. And from an editor, not an agent. Wow. And finally she bothered to tell me what was wrong with it. They didn’t publish books set in my historical period. Not that my writing sucked.
I read it over three times. I opened up my email box. It was empty, not even any spam. I addressed a new message to Ashley.
Dear Ashley,
How’s the tour going? Have you gotten any writing done? When do you think you’ll be home?
I found Momma. She’s fine. And we finally had a heart-to-heart talk about why she and Daddy treated me differently than my siblings. Now I wished I’d never asked.
I’ve had quite an adventure and I think I’m going to base my next story on it. My nutty family. They’ll sue me but who cares.
Guess what? I obtained my first “good” rejection letter from an editor. My story was set in an unpopular time period. I had no idea. She likes my writing and invited me to submit again. She had even called me but I wasn’t home. I’m about to pull out my portable word processor and let my muse carry me away. From Mercury to Mars. So it’ll be a paranormal/romantic suspense/ chic lit/comedy. LOL
Write when you can. Can’t wait ’til we meet face-to-face.
Donna
I hit send and retrieved my little two-pound keyboard from the desk drawer. I pressed the on/off button and file one opened. Great. The batteries still worked.
I fluffed up a throw pillow and hopped on the couch, stretching out with my keyboard on my legs.
Chapter One
I heard my computer wheeze behind me. The electricity went out. An angry wind howled. That’s okay, I got my trusty little battery keyboard. Let’s see. I began typing.
Reston, Virginia
On a gusty Thursday in the summer of my forty-second year, my telephone reverberated to the tune of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”.
I heard music. It was getting pitch-black
in the middle of the morning. Like a total eclipse of the sun. I wasn’t dreaming this time or I didn’t think I was. I sprang up and crept into the hallway. The music played louder. Violin. One lonely violin. Frank Sinatra’s “All The Way” emanated live—from my basement. I loved this song about how important it is to love unconditionally. Maybe someone would love me like that someday.
Ashley must be home! I knocked on the door. “Ashley, is that you?” Nothing. “Ashley?”
The violin halted. I heard footsteps ascending the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
The Great Dane barked at the basement door. The massive canine jumped and sniffed.
I said, “Down. Down, doggie, down,” as I grabbed onto her chain collar that Perry bought her. “Careful, Ashley. I have a big dog up here but she’s friendly. Hold onto the hand railing, I don’t want her to knock you down the steps.”
I pulled and tugged on her collar but only managed to move her far enough away so that Ashley could open the door. The hinges were on my side, so it opened into the foyer. I ended up squatting on the hardwood floor with my arms wrapped around the Great Dane’s massive chest. “It’s all right, Ashley, you can open it now. I think I’ve got her in custody.”
The brass doorknob turned. I would’ve held my breath in excitement at finally meeting my roommate face-to-face but I had to breathe, heavily even, to hold the dog back.
The darkened foyer seemed to dim further like a movie theater. In slow motion, the white six-panel colonial door squeaked open. A brick red glow emanated from behind. I couldn’t hold the dog back any longer. She leaped down the basement stairs, knocking me back on my rear end. I scrambled up, embarrassed.
And there he was. “What are you doing in my basement?”
He said, “I live here.”
I was so confused. “But-but you’re my dream man. Hey, are you two timin’ me with Ashley?”
He laughed. “No. That’s quite impossible.”
“But Ashley Jones lives down there.”
He raised his eyebrows, his smile radiated into huge dimples. “Yeah, I do.”
“You’re—Ashley Jones?”
“Nice to make your acquaintance.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it.
“Well, no wonder you wouldn’t reveal your first name. Hey, I was heartbroken when you died.”
He quietly said, “I know.”
“You told me things would get much worse before they got better.”
He nodded affirmatively.
“Well, they were horrible. Poor Mr. Meddlestein was poisoned. And my siblings decided to move in with me. They think I’m brain damaged—”
Ashley enveloped me into his arms. I felt his chest heave as he took in each breath. I listened to his heartbeat. He ran his fingers through my hair.
“Sweetheart, the accident did cause a change in your brain function.”
Tears wended down my cheeks. “No!”
“Shh…” He wiped them with his strong fingers. “I didn’t say it was a bad change.”
I pulled away enough to look up at him. “What are you saying?”
“That your accident was a catalyst. I told you your spirit was erroneously dumped on Mercury, very, very close to the sun. But only you can make the move.”
“Move to where? The psycho ward?” I plopped down on the oak floorboards, crying. Scooby Doo-ette leaped over the threshold and licked my teardrops. I scrunched up my face.
“Well, at least I got a friend outa the deal.”
He said, “Norma Jean.”
“You know this dog?”
“She’s one of the good ones. You think you have it rough here? You ought to have endured her last life.”
I panicked. “You mean I’m dying and have to come back as a dog?”
Ashley squatted down and petted the Great Dane. “No. You don’t have to die now. And you don’t have to come back as a dog. I see you as more of a bird…”
“Oh right, I’ll come back as a turkey.”
“I’d love to stuff you.”
I fought off a weak smile.
“No, sweetheart. I’m not the grim reaper. You are not dying today. I’m your mate. And I’m here to share in the joys of your mortal existence.”
“You called the dog Norma Jean. Is she…”
The dog wagged her tail vigorously and slobbered all over my face and hands as she licked them. She knocked me onto my back. “I take that as a yes.”
My Mr. Ashley Jones laughed. “She has the soul of your biological mother. Norma Jean loves you very much. She sent me to protect you, to help you find out the truth. Now you know.”
I squinted at him. “Wow.” I hugged Norma Jean. This was all a bit much to take in. “You said that things were going to get worse. What else bad is going to happen to me?”
“I think you’re over the hump. Things are beginning to get better, aren’t they?”
“Dick and his wife are still on the loose.”
“Nah, the wife turned herself in.”
“Dick is the scary one.”
Ashley procured a white handkerchief from his inside coat pocket and stuffed it on my nose. “Blow.”
And blow I did. Thrice. I carefully folded the sticky cloth and handed it back. He crinkled his nose and wouldn’t touch it.
“Oh I’m home. I can wash it for ya.”
“That would be kind of you.”
Norma Jean curled up on the floor. Her big brown eyes looked warm and comforting. I smiled at her.
I asked, “So what did Fawn Fiddler cop out to?”
“Conspiracy to launder money. Possession of counterfeit currency. Planting false evidence. False arrest. Abuse of her police power.”
“Well, that clears up her part in all of this intrigue.”
He helped me to my feet. We walked into the kitchen and then through to the laundry room. I tossed the hanky into the front loading washing machine. “I might as well see if I have enough for a whole load. Do you have anything that needs washing?”
“No, you’ll ruin my suit.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Okay, then I’ll run upstairs and see what I have dirty.”
“Dirty?”
I noticed the twinkle in his eyes. At that very instant, a force field enveloped me. The same one that grabbed me in my first dream on the bridge. Only now, I wasn’t dreaming. I was wide-awake. And this time, no one would interrupt us. Hopefully.
His grin radiated a sense of total approval. We walked through the foyer. I started up the oak stairs. He grabbed me. Throwing me over his shoulder, caveman style. I squealed all the way up.
“Don’t drop me. Don’t knock my head on the rail.”
He made it to the upper landing and spun around. “Where to now, love?”
“First door on the right.”
He began whistling. We tumbled together onto my canopy bed. I giggled.
“What are you doin’ whistling?”
“Because, Cinderella, it’s past midnight and nobody’s gonna stop us this time.”
No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even past noon yet. Well, it must be past midnight somewhere. My breath caught in my throat. “No evil stepsisters?”
He shook his head.
“No geezer cops?”
He shook again.
“No—”
He kissed me. Oh did he kiss me. I felt my body swirling. I kissed him back. Devouring his being.
I reclined on my side, with my eyes closed, smiling at the wonder of Ashley. We were spooned. His left arm was wrapped around me, cupping my breast. Our right hands were clasped under my feather pillow. I squeezed my Kegel muscle. He contracted his own special brawn. I giggled. My mate softly withdrew and rolled me over to face him.
I surrendered to the all-encompassing love in his eyes. I placed my finger on his lips and traced the contours. He sucked my fingertip. I drew my finger out and stroked it across his chest. I played in the dewy hair, just the right amount. He brushed the blonde ringlets from my fa
ce and said, “I love you.”
I sat up. “I love you too.”
“Really, are you sure? All the way?”
I nodded. “All the way.”
The smile that lit up Ashley’s face informed me he really was my mate. I sighed.
Ashley said, “Well, let’s get some of this lovemaking washed off and prepare for our journey.”
Oh no. “Our journey?” Was he going to make me go live in the clouds or something?
“Yes, I’ve found the perfect little hideaway on Mars. I hope you approve.”
I blew breath out. “I was afraid of that. I’m gonna grow antennas and have to wear an ugly green spacesuit. Or dog fur. No, wait, we decided on turkey feathers.”
Ashley laughed at me as he sprung up and tugged on my hand. “No. Come on. You’ll like it.”
I reluctantly hit the hall shower while he shaved. I wondered whether I should shave as well. Nah, he’d seen my bikini line. Up close and tasty. I blushed behind the shower curtain. If I was going to live on Mars, what would happen to my house? Well, at least it was clean and paid for. And I certainly wouldn’t miss my job. Norma Jean. We would have to take Norma Jean with us. I would not miss anyone here. Finally it would be my turn to live happily ever after. At last. Wonder what I should take with me? What would I need on Mars to feel at home?
I turned the water off and squeezed out my hair. He handed me a towel.
“Thanks. Your turn. Want some assistance with the soap?”
He smiled. “The next time. We need to get going.”
So I stepped out of the shower and he stepped in. I proceeded to my closet and wondered which outfit to wear.
Ashley was dressed and sitting on the steps, petting Norma Jean, before I finished fussing with my hair.
The Immaculate Deception Page 32