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Wrong Side of Forty

Page 3

by DeLeon, Jana


  “Besides, Harold’s no lightweight,” Adelaide said. “And the best of his hair left him years ago. Surely you’re not suggesting he rates a supermodel.”

  Patricia drew herself up and her jaw tightened. “Of course not, but the reality is when a man has a steady job with good pay, he can score a woman who’s better-looking than him.”

  “He already did,” Dottie said. “Marina.”

  Adelaide gave her an approving nod.

  “Some people age better than others,” Patricia said.

  “So despite the fact that Harold looks like a woeful toad,” Adelaide said, “you’re implying he has taken up with someone else because Marina is no longer pretty enough for him?”

  Adelaide had already heard the rumors about Chastity LeDoux, and the fact that Patricia was her aunt and Marina’s employer was exactly why Adelaide had required an emergency hair session.

  “I might have heard something to that effect,” Patricia said.

  “Who in their right mind would take up with Harold?” Adelaide asked. “I don’t care if he’s as rich as Caesar. I can barely shake the man’s hand without having to use that antibacterial hand gel afterward. I don’t know what it would take to wash the ick off my privates. Maybe bleach.”

  “I don’t think we need to hear about your privates,” Dottie said. “But I think we can all agree that it’s a woman of dubious ethics and character who takes up with a married man.”

  Patricia’s jaw clenched and Adelaide could tell she wanted to say something but didn’t dare. Adelaide had figured Patricia would side with her niece. Especially since Patricia’s brother was the town attorney and gunning for mayor. The salon owner loved nothing more than throwing his name around to get faster service, tables at the local “fine” dining even when they were booked, and a host of other things she wouldn’t otherwise rate if she wasn’t sister to the only man in town who could sue everyone.

  “Most marriages have ended long before the actual separation,” Patricia said.

  “For one of them that’s usually true,” Dottie said. “The problem is the cheater always forgets to tell his wife. Ah well, I suppose it will all come out sooner rather than later and everyone can make up their own minds. Not that it should be very difficult.”

  Patricia sniffed. “Well, I believe there’s always two sides to every divorce.”

  “Sure,” Dottie said. “The right side and the wrong side.”

  “And you don’t want to be on the wrong side of things in Last Chance,” Adelaide said.

  Dottie nodded. “People here are long on memory and short on forgiveness.”

  Adelaide looked over at the clearly agitated Patricia. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t know what Marina’s plans were? I can’t imagine they’d be much different than now except she wouldn’t be living with Harold any longer. She’s hardly the type to get a tattoo and leave on a Harley trip around the country.”

  Patricia shrugged but Adelaide could tell the salon owner had spoken too much, too soon, and now she was going to attempt to backtrack.

  “A lot of people decide to make big changes when their marriage breaks up,” Patricia said. “Who knows what her future might hold?”

  Adelaide looked over at Dottie, who gave her a worried look. They were both thinking the same thing.

  An hour later, they stood in the square in the middle of downtown, positioned behind an enormous oak tree so they weren’t visible to most foot traffic. Dottie was drinking one of those snooty coffee drinks that cost a fortune and consisted mostly of foam. Adelaide was drinking straight-up black coffee from the gas station.

  Dottie looked over at the church and frowned. “You did that, didn’t you?”

  The sign that had read “FREE FLU SHOTS” the day before now displayed “FREE F U SHOTS.”

  Adelaide grinned. “I’ll never tell.”

  “I don’t think you have to.” Dottie sighed. “So…this situation.”

  “That Patricia is one big, flaming bitch,” Adelaide said.

  “Crude but accurate,” Dottie agreed. “She’s always thought she was better than she was. That’s her mother’s fault. And that brother of hers has just kept it all going with his pompous way of lording over anyone who’ll let him.”

  “The problem is there’s plenty in this town that let him.”

  “That’s fear. Not respect.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m afraid fear is going to get him elected mayor.”

  Dottie shook her head. “William must be rolling over in his grave.”

  Adelaide nodded. William was Dottie’s deceased husband and the former mayor. As far as men went, he was one of the few good ones. He and Adelaide had disagreed about some things, like whether or not it should be illegal to grow corn in your backyard and how many cats should be allowed in one home, but he’d been a good mayor.

  “If that idiot gets elected,” Adelaide said, “William’s going to come back to haunt us. Maybe even do a curse.”

  “It’s rumored his family descended from Marie Laveau. I suppose if anyone could be outraged enough to rise from the dead, it would be William.”

  “He always had an unwavering sense of propriety. One of the things I admired about him.”

  Dottie snorted. “That’s because you don’t have any.”

  Adelaide waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s overrated. Besides, I’m too old to give a damn what other people think.”

  “You reached that point in kindergarten.”

  “Possibly even before.”

  “That niece of Patricia’s has been brought up to be useless and aimless,” Dottie said. “What she needs is a job. A real job. Not these silly part-time things Preston strong-arms locals into hiring her for since neither he or Patricia want her underfoot.”

  “Ha. The only thing she knows how to do isn’t legal to charge for.”

  “Also crude.”

  “Also accurate.” Adelaide frowned. “I’m worried about Marina’s job.”

  Dottie sighed. “So am I. I think Patricia is going to back that oversexed niece of hers regardless of what others think. No way she’s going to come out against Chastity and risk losing favor with her brother.”

  “If Chastity had ‘666’ on her scalp, Patricia would still back her. She’s not about to give up her perks.”

  “The problem is Patricia is a subpar human being but she’s not a sociopath. Her conscience won’t allow her to face Marina every day, knowing she’s standing in the wrong corner strictly for her own benefit.”

  “You think she’s going to fire her?”

  “Or be so nasty she runs her off. Either way, the end result is the same.”

  Adelaide nodded. “Marina is out of a job. And at the worst possible time. No way Harold is going to play fair in a divorce. Not with that little girl hanging around waiting for daddy to hand out her allowance.”

  Dottie cringed. “That statement is mortifying. But you’re right. So what do we do?”

  “I don’t know that there’s anything we can do, but we have to warn her at least. God knows, she didn’t have any warning before she caught her husband in the act. I don’t imagine she’d appreciate another surprise.”

  “Surely she’s already realized there might be a problem.”

  “When William died, how much of what was going on around you did you process completely? I know this isn’t a death, but…”

  Dottie nodded. “No. You’re right. This is a life-altering event. At least with William, he’d been ill and we knew it was coming. I had time to prepare—as much as one can, anyway.”

  “Exactly. So I’m betting that Marina hasn’t processed much past where she’s sleeping tonight.”

  “I assume she’ll be at her sister’s.”

  “I think we need to pay her a visit. I don’t know that we can do anything for her but at least we can make sure she’s not caught unaware again.”

  Dottie stared at her for a bit. “I’m surprised at you. I know you love to collect and disp
erse gossip, but your usual policy is to remain on the sidelines flinging mud into the fray.”

  “This is different. I really like Marina. And I never liked Harold.”

  Dottie gave her an approving nod. “I think we might have more in common than we thought.”

  “Kinda scary, right?”

  “Terrifying.”

  Chapter Five

  Marina put her shoulder against the front door and gave it a hard shove. It flew open, and she felt her back catch and a sharp pain go through her left butt cheek and knee before she fell through the doorway, crashing onto the tile entry. As she pushed herself into a sitting position, she made a mental note to adjust the door. Tackling it like a linebacker every day wasn’t an option her body could sustain for very long, probably not longer than today. The ancient tile floor probably wouldn’t last very long under those conditions, either. It was already cracked.

  “Good Lord, sis,” Halcyon’s voice sounded behind her. “Just because you’re newly single doesn’t mean you should throw caution to the wind. You’re going to break a hip if you keep falling that way. And there is no way to make a walker look stylish.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose. That darn door is stuck. And besides, I don’t know who I have to impress out here anyway. The mosquitoes?”

  Halcyon reached down and helped her up, frowning as she limped over to clutch the kitchen counter. “Why are you walking funny?”

  “The doctor says it’s because of sciatica.”

  “Who is this bitch Sciatica? Don’t tell me Harold has two girlfriends.”

  “No. It’s a nerve in your back. If I twist it wrong, sleep wrong, cough incorrectly, or do anything to get my back inflamed, things touch that nerve. Feels like someone’s shooting hot nails into my butt and knee.”

  “Good God, that sounds horrible. How did you get it?”

  “Standing all day? Sitting all night? Heck if I know. Apparently, it’s mostly an age and usage sort of problem.”

  “Can’t you do anything for it? Like a heating pad or something?”

  “I’ve got heating pads in every chair I own. The only place I sit that I don’t have one is the toilet, and sometimes I consider one there as well.”

  Halcyon shook her head. “You’d think menopause was enough to throw at us. I guess this is something else I have to look forward to. Right up there with incontinence and death.”

  “I’m kinda hoping to put off the second one for a while longer and the first one forever.”

  “We can always dream.” Halcyon looked around the fishing camp that belonged to Marina’s mother and grimaced. “Are you sure you want to do this? No one has used this place in years. It’s barely fit for fishing, much less daily living.”

  “It’s free, and at least I’ve got a view.”

  Halcyon stared out the back window at the bayou. “It is a decent view. But this place…it’s filthy and you don’t even know if everything works. What if the roof leaks? Or raccoons have moved in?”

  “I’ll clean it. If something is broken, I’ll fix it. If the roof leaks, I’ll call a repairman. If raccoons have moved in, then I’ll have someone to watch HGTV with.”

  “Honey, I know you’re capable of replacing a faucet and probably even conversing with the wildlife, but this place is awful. Why don’t you stay with me?”

  “Because although I love you to death, you know we can’t live together. Besides, what would your latest catch say about having me in the way?”

  “He’d probably incorrectly assume he’d hit the threesome lotto, but he wouldn’t have the nerve to say it or to make any suggestions around that fact. And I know I’m not the easiest person to cohabitate with, but you’re my sister and I don’t want you living like a hermit out here in the marsh.”

  “I appreciate the offer, truly I do. But remember, I come with baggage. Hairy baggage that makes your eyes swell. You know that’s not a good look for you.”

  Halcyon sighed. “Why can’t you leave that bloodhound with Harold?”

  “Because Snooze hates him. Every time Harold comes into the room, Snooze starts farting. He never does it when it’s just me.”

  “Really? I didn’t realize Snooze was so clever. Maybe I could take a Benadryl every day.”

  “You tried that last Thanksgiving and ended up missing the Black Friday sales because your eyes were too swollen to see. I’m staying here in the cabin. I’ll make it work.”

  “Cabin…I was thinking more along the lines of shack. But I suppose with a good cleaning and some new furniture, a couple of rugs, some wall decor, a couple of plants— Oh Jesus, who am I kidding? It’s still going to be a fishing camp and it would probably take a hazmat team to get the smell out. But if you think this is best for you, then you know I’ve got your back.”

  “Just not a scrub brush?”

  Marina grinned. Her sister’s aversion to all things domestic was a pretty well-known fact.

  Halcyon wrinkled her nose. “I’ll get Bonnie to help you tomorrow. My house can wait another week. This can’t.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  “And? I think we have bigger fish to fry than traipsing to church for the ole stare-and-whisper.”

  “Yeah. I’m definitely not ready for all that.”

  “Then we’ll work on this place tomorrow. But you’re not sleeping here until we’re certain everything is in working order and you install a dead bolt. And you’re taking one of my pistols and a shotgun. No arguing. There are things in this marsh to worry about that a dead bolt won’t keep out.”

  Marina just nodded. Once Halcyon was in big-sister mode, it was easier to just go along and then adjust when she was focused on something else. And something else always came along to draw Halcyon’s attention. Usually a new man. And as much as Marina appreciated Halcyon’s generous offer to stay with her, Marina was also aware that it would never work. She and Halcyon were simply too different. They’d be at each other’s throats within a week, and since her sister represented the only solid relationship she had left, it was probably best not to put unnecessary strain on it. Besides, how was Marina supposed to figure out her new adult life if she was living in her sister’s spare room with Halcyon telling her what to do every minute?

  “What did Letitia say when you told her you were leaving Harold and moving into her fishing camp?” Halcyon asked.

  “I haven’t told her,” Marina said.

  Letitia Comeaux was Marina’s mother and before the current situation with Harold, had represented the most difficult part of Marina’s life.

  “When she went into the facility, I was given power of attorney,” Marina said. “I control everything of mother’s, which basically means her checking account and this camp.”

  “Is there any money left from the sale of her house?” Halcyon asked.

  “Yes, but it’s paying the difference for the assisted living facility that her Social Security doesn’t cover. If I don’t cover it, then they’ll toss her out, and trust me, they’re already looking for a reason.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since she tried to burn the place down.”

  “I thought she was in a locked-down wing…you know, dementia patients and all that.”

  “She is, but apparently, one of the employees got careless on a smoke break and Mother took advantage. They called to tell me I had to come get her but their story didn’t add up so I refused. I had to make a big stink about getting camera footage before they’d admit they were liable. Having some dirt on them is the only thing keeping her there.”

  “She needs to be in a mental health hospital.”

  “There’s nothing available. At least this claim of dementia got her into a secure facility.”

  “Only sort of secure, apparently.” Halcyon shook her head. “I’m glad I got the narcissist for a mother. You can write a narcissist off and no one blames you for it but you’re stuck with crazy until it dies.”

  Marina nodded. Halcyon didn’t even know the half of
it. Before Dr. Miller was convinced to declare that Letitia was suffering from dementia, Marina had been to the sheriff’s department four times to deal with her mother’s shenanigans. And each time, they got increasingly more dangerous. The final shot, literally, was when she took aim at the postman, claiming she thought it was a home invasion. Marina knew her mother had hated the man ever since he’d dumped Letitia for her best friend in high school, so she wasn’t buying it for a second. But Dr. Miller was, and that was enough to give Marina power of attorney over Letitia’s affairs and the ability to get her into the lockdown unit at the assisted living facility.

  Marina had never told anyone—not even Halcyon—but the day of the transport, she’d given Letitia sedatives and convinced her they were going shopping. It was the only way she knew she could get her mother into the facility without incident. If Letitia had known where they were going, no telling who she would have opened fire on to avoid it. Marina still felt guilty for what she’d done, but she’d also decided that her mother was going to be locked up one way or another. It was simply a choice between a medical facility and prison. She’d opted for the choice that left no other potential victims.

  At least, that’s what she’d thought before the fire.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Halcyon asked. “In the fire, I mean?”

  “No. Thank God. They caught her right after she’d poured rubbing alcohol on the living room furniture. She was holding the lighter when a nurse’s aide tackled her.”

  “Good. God.”

  “So anyway, all that is to say that my mother doesn’t get a vote in my living here,” Marina said.

  “You might still want to keep it a secret. If she finds out you’re here and actually happy for a change, the old witch will change her will and leave everything to someone else just to spite you.”

 

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