by Nic Saint
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, yawning. “So far so good, I’d say.”
“That’s because you’re still doped up on pain meds. Wait till they wear off. Mamma mia! Though you can always ask for more. Just hit Vena up for a fresh dose. Whimper a little and look sad and she’ll fix you right up. I love Vena. Tough but nice, if you know what I mean.”
I clamped my lips shut. I wasn’t going to extoll Vena’s virtues just yet. First she needed to let me go from this prison I was confined in.
“I don’t understand why we have to stay in a cage, though,” said the Pekinese, echoing my thoughts exactly.
“It’s to make sure we don’t get into any trouble,” said the gerbil.
“Yeah,” I said, “last time I was in here I wasn’t in a cage, though.”
“She must have installed a new regime,” said the gerbil. “There must have been a prison break or some kind of revolt or something, and she must have decided to go all maximum-security penitentiary from now on. My name is Harlan, by the way.”
“Max,” I said.
“Minna,” said the Pekinese.
“You know, if it wasn’t for the cage, and the fact that I feel like someone just sat on me and then pulled me limb from limb across a rack, I’d actually be enjoying this little chat we’re having,” said Harlan, gesturing from himself to me and Minna. “Cozy, I mean.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Minna. “And if only my owner would hurry up and pick me up, I’d feel a lot better, too.”
“It’s only one night,” said Harlan, who was a regular FAQ on all things Vena.
“So we have to spend the night in this cage?” asked Minna.
“Yep. But don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll pass the time by shooting the breeze and getting to know each other. I’ll start. I was born thirteen months ago in a small town across the Canadian border. You may have heard of it, but then again you may not. Coaticook is the name of this small and picturesque little town. Only nine thousand souls, and oh, about twenty thousand gerbils I guess, and for a long time I had no idea what to be in life, or how to apply my very many talents in a meaningful way…”
Oh, boy, I thought as I shared a look of concern with Minna.
This could very well be a very, very long night.
Chapter 6
Bertie had parked his car by the side of the road and had been idly wandering around. He needed to have a think. It was one thing to hear these stories about men walking in on their wives and finding them in bed with other men, but it was quite another to actually live through the experience yourself. He distinctly remembered having laughed his head off when Colin Firth walked in on his wife in bed with his best friend in Love Actually. Lenora had laughed heartily, too, and then when Colin had moved to Portugal to work on his novel only to find love with his cleaning lady, it had warmed the cockles of his heart, vivid evidence that being betrayed in love wasn’t the end of the world. In fact it could very well be the beginning of something new and wonderful—and possibly even better than what you had—provided you moved to Portugal, of course.
He didn’t feel like moving to Portugal, though. Besides, he couldn’t write a novel if his life depended on it. As an insurance broker writing novels was not in his job description.
And his mood had turned as black as the sky overhead, when he realized he was in unknown territory. He knew Hampton Cove, of course, but this was a part of town he was unacquainted with. It appeared to be a street dotted with only a couple of houses, the light from the streetlamps falling on patches of wilderness and fallow land in between. Perhaps he could move here? It would be a damn sight easier than Portugal, and he wouldn’t even have to learn the language. And maybe he would find love again with a local beauty who wouldn’t betray him the moment his back was turned. Of course Lenora had always been way out of his league. He’d known it and she had known it, too. But instead of simply coming out and telling him that she was ready to move on…
He had instinctively stopped in front of a large house that looked run down. Like one of those houses you always see in horror movies. The kind of places that are haunted and where only murder and mayhem await the lonely traveler who dares to enter.
And he’d just shaken his head at so much neglect and cursed the homeowner who had allowed what must have been a gorgeous place to fall into disrepair, when he sensed someone standing right behind him. And he’d turned his head to see if his instinct was correct when a powerful blow hit his head. The ground moved up to him with such speed it socked him in the face, and then he was out for the count. His last thought was that Hank the traveling Berghoff salesman must have followed him here and was going to dismember him and bury him in the woods so Lenora could take the house where she and hunky Hank could now both live happily ever after…
Gran was in a lousy mood. First off, she hadn’t received the snazzy smartphone she’d been hoping to lay her hands on—that nifty foldable gadget that would allow her to watch her favorite shows wherever and whenever—even waiting at the checkout counter, or helping out her daughter at the library, or at the senior center when bingo night proved particularly tedious. And now her favorite avenue of escape had been blocked off and she had the impression her granddaughter had done it on purpose.
“What do you mean my room is being turned into an office-slash-gym?” she demanded.
She was standing in front of her granddaughter and her granddaughter’s equally devious boyfriend, both giving her sheepish looks. Behind them, the bedroom that once had had her name written all over it was now empty with a plastic sheet on the floor and a first coat of paint on the ceiling. They’d even removed her favorite wallpaper—the one she’d bought and paid for herself. Little flowers and harmonicas in a theme of pink and gold leaf. That wallpaper had cost her a pretty penny but considering she considered this room her home away from home, and her private refuge, it had been well worth it.
“Yeah, we just figured with Chase moving in we needed to make a few changes,” said Odelia.
“I’ve always had a home gym,” said Chase. “And a home office. It’s convenient.”
“But you go to the gym!” Gran cried, shaking her fists. “Why do you need a home gym when you have a gym membership?!”
“It’s for those moments in between,” he said. “When I don’t have time to head out, and just want to put in a quick session at home.”
“And why do you need an office when you have a perfectly nice office at the police station?!” she added, her sense of aggrievement matching her feeling of bereavement. She’d wanted to show Tex she didn’t need his stinkin’ house and the stinkin’ room and board he kindly offered her in exchange for part of her meager pension and the equally meager paycheck he awarded her. That she could always find refuge at Odelia’s. Only now her grandchild had gone and planted a dagger in her back—just like that!
“I like to work on my cases at home from time to time,” Chase said lamely.
“What cop works on his damn cases at home?!” she demanded. “Alec never works on his cases at home. He doesn’t even work on his cases at the office if he can help it!”
“Well, Chase is a different kind of cop, Gran,” said Odelia. “He likes to work from home from time to time, just like me, and when he’s home he likes to put in a session on the stationary bike from time to time. Besides, I’ll use our new home gym, too.”
“And of course you’re welcome to use the equipment, Gran,” said Chase.
“That’s Mrs. Muffin to you, sonny boy!” she said, wagging a finger in the man’s face. She threw up her arms. “So what am I supposed to do now? I already told Tex I was moving out!” She gestured to her bags, which she’d placed on the floor.
“Can’t you make friends with Dad?” asked Odelia. “I’m sure that whatever the problem is, you’ll be able to work it out if only you—”
“Kiss and make up? No way,” said Gran with a slashing motion of her arm. “I’m way too easy on that man as it is. Because of me he pays a lot l
ess in taxes, and I’m sure he gets all kinds of other benefits, too. And what do I get in return? Nothing! Nada! Bupkis!”
She wasn’t sure what benefits Tex got, but she was sure he got something. Why else would he decide to allow his mother-in-law to live with him if not for the moolah?
“I’m truly sorry, Gran,” said Odelia, who didn’t look sorry at all. Chase even had the gall to grin as she said it. Obviously he wasn’t keen on his future wife’s granny to move in with them either.
She lifted her bony shoulders in a shrug. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do…”
“I’m sure that Tex will be more than happy to welcome you back, Mrs. Muffin,” said Chase.
“…I’ll move into your room and you two muppets can sleep on the couch.”
And with these words she marched into the master bedroom and glanced around. She didn’t like the wallpaper, she didn’t like the furniture, and she would need to clear out some junk to make space in that ugly-ass closet, but the bed would do nicely indeed.
“Pick up my bags, will you, sonny?” she told Chase, then, when he didn’t respond, she glanced over to him and Odelia. “And while you’re at it, pick up your jaw from the floor.”
So who was laughing now, huh?
“We should probably apologize to Mom,” said Marge as she took a seat next to her hubby on the couch. Tex was watching something on the Discovery Channel about the migratory pattern of South-African geese but when she joined him he switched channels to The Bachelorette, which he knew she preferred.
“Apologize?” he said as he ladled a big helping of yogurt into his mouth. “I’m not apologizing to your mother. She should apologize to us. Buy her a foldable smartphone, forsooth. Doesn’t she know how much those things cost?”
“She knows, but she wants to watch her shows.”
“She can watch all the shows she wants on the computer at the office. Not that I approve. She should be working, not watching shows. But okay, fine. I’m willing to make allowances. She’s old—and she loves those shows of hers. So let her use the PC.”
“It’s not the same. That computer is old. I’m not even sure it has internet.”
“It does have internet. I had it installed when we fixed up the office last time.”
“That was ten years ago, honey. I’d be surprised if you can check your email on that thing. I’m just saying, we should all try to be a little flexible.”
He glanced over, an astonished look on his face. “Flexible. The way she is flexible? Are you seriously telling me you’re caving in to her demands?”
She placed a soothing hand on her husband’s arm. “I’m saying we should try to get along. After all, we live together, and a little give and take is the only way to make this work.”
“Well, she doesn’t live here any longer,” he said as he took his spoon and then started scraping the bottom of the plastic yogurt container. She grabbed the spoon and the yogurt container to stop him from scraping, a habit which frankly drove her bananas.
“What do you mean, she doesn’t live here anymore?”
“She doesn’t. She told me she’s moving out and she had her bags packed and everything.”
“But… where did she go?”
“Next door,” he said as he put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back.
“But that’s impossible. Didn’t you tell her Odelia is turning the guest room into an office and a home gym?”
“I didn’t tell her anything. I merely registered mild surprise—out of politeness, mind you, and in deference to the fact that she is the mother of the woman I love—and then offered to carry her bags next door myself. She huffily refused and shuffled off.”
Marge shook her head. “Oh, dear.” She picked up her phone and put it to her ear. “Odelia, honey? Is your grandmother over there?”
“Yeah, she is, and guess what?”
She sighed deeply. “She’s taking over your room?”
“How did you know?”
“Because I’ve known your grandmother a lot longer than you have,” she said, directing a critical glance at her husband of twenty-five years. Tex had the decency to look embarrassed.
“So what am I supposed to do now? She’s already asked Chase to get rid of the box spring cause it’s too hard, and she’s demanding we buy back the old wallpaper that she likes so much and chuck out the one we bought because she hates that newfangled crap figuring it’s bad for her aura and won’t allow her to get her much-needed beauty sleep!”
“Don’t worry, honey. She doesn’t actually mean to stay there indefinitely. Only for a couple of nights, until your father decides to apologize.”
“I’ll never apologize,” said Tex, stubbornly shaking his head. “Not in a million years!”
“If you like, you can move into your grandmother’s room,” Marge offered.
“A house swap, Mom? Really?”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“And all this over a stupid smartphone?”
“Your grandmother feels very strongly about her little pleasures.”
“Oh, I’ll say she does. Maybe we should all pitch in and buy her the damn thing. At least then I’ll get my house back.”
“Maybe we should all pitch in and buy her the phone.” She cocked a questioning eyebrow at her husband.
“Never!” Tex said. “She has a perfectly good smartphone and she’ll use it until it falls apart. And tell Odelia to tell Vesta I said that!”
“You know what?” said Marge. “Maybe you and Chase can sleep in our bed.”
Tex stared at her. “And where are we going to sleep?”
“I don’t know where you’re going to sleep, but I’m going to sleep in my mother’s bed.”
He goggled at her for a moment as he put two and two together, then exploded, “No way!”
She shrugged. “Either you apologize and get your daughter her house back, or you sleep with Mom from now on. Your choice.”
A mutinous look came over him, as he burrowed even lower into the couch.
“It’s a deal, honey,” she said into the phone. “Your father will sleep with Gran in your bed, you and Chase can take our bed, and I’ll sleep in your grandmother’s bed. And we’ll see how things stand in the morning.”
Odelia laughed, and said, “They should hire you at the UN, mom, as a peace negotiator. Those dictators wouldn’t know what hit them if you got involved.”
“I knew I should have gone into politics,” she said with a smile, and disconnected. “Better take your earplugs,” she told her husband. “You know how Mom snores.”
He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, and she smiled a fine smile. She had a feeling this family feud would be over a lot quicker than the last one.
Chapter 7
Gran was feeling on top of the world. She’d put on her hairnet and her flannel nightgown and was getting ready to retire for the night. Her teeth were in a glass on the nightstand and she was reading a novel from her favorite writer Danielle Steel. Odelia’s bed was a lot bigger than her own, and the room was an improvement as well. And then suddenly the door swung open and her nemesis appeared.
Tex didn’t look happy, and he didn’t look very fashionable either, dressed in his pajamas with the little Garfields drawn on them.
“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Gran, not bothering to hide her animosity.
“Marge kicked me out of the house,” he said a little gruffly as he sat down on the bed.
Gran watched on with a rising sense of panic.
“And what do you think you’re doing, young man?”
“I’m sleeping here apparently,” Tex grumbled. “Marge’s orders.”
“But… she can’t do this!” Gran protested. “This isn’t right.”
“Tell me about it. She feels that since you took Odelia and Chase’s room, they should sleep in our bed, while Marge is sleeping in your bed tonight and I’m sleeping here, since this is the only other double bed we have.”
“There is still such a thing as the couch, Doctor Poole,” said Gran, sternly regarding her son-in-law from across her half-moon reading glasses.
“You’re not seriously telling me to sleep on the couch, are you?” said Tex, and there was a pleading note in his voice that Gran had rarely heard there before. “With my back, I won’t make it to the morning, and even if I do I won’t be able to work tomorrow.”
She softened. Tex did have a bad back, and sleeping on the couch would only exacerbate an already painful condition.
“I don’t understand why you don’t have that back of yours operated on,” she said.
Tex swung his legs beneath the covers and lay down. “I’ve told you before, Vesta. The success rate of procedures performed on people with my exact condition is not good.”
“I know, I know,” she said. She shook her head. “I’m going to give that wife of yours a piece of my mind in the morning. Who tells her husband to sleep in the same bed as her mother?”
“Marge probably thought we’d be forced to settle our differences this way.”
“By forcing you to sleep with the enemy, you mean?”
“Something like that.”
For a moment, silence hung like a blanket over the room. Vesta kept on reading about the actress who’d been deserted by her husband, whose second husband had died from a wasting disease, whose three children had drowned when their cruise ship sank off the coast of Norway, and whose third scumbag husband was having an affair with the maid.
Tex cleared his throat. “Listen, Vesta…”
“Mh?” she said without much conviction. She liked her reading of an evening, and she was just getting to the good stuff, where a new man had entered the actress’s life who looked like he might be Mr. Right. He’d better be, cause she was down to the last pages.