Glazed

by Deany Ray

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Kansky said. “I remember all the scratches down your little chubby legs, and, oh my, how you bruised your little bottom. Your little bottom was so sore.”

  I stared into my smoothie. Please let me disappear.

  My mom smiled at me proudly. “I’ve been telling everybody, Charlie, that it’s so nice to have you home!”

  “How are you doing, dear?” The woman to my right peered into my face, getting almost close enough to touch. I knew they couldn’t hear; perhaps they were nearly blind as well.

  “My grandson Glenn is such a fine boy,” shouted Mrs. Eisler, who was pressed against me on the other side. It seemed like a random comment, so I smiled and nodded.

  She touched my cheek with a cold hand. “Look at you. You’ve turned into a fine young woman. Did your mother tell you Glenn sells houses now? We’re so proud of him.”

  “Well now, my grandson, Brandon, has a fine job with the city.” Mr. Wernick downed the last bit of his smoothie and let out a burp. Everybody talked so loudly.

  I tried to stand, but Mrs. Eisler put a hand insistently on my shoulder. “Glenn owns a nice brick home,” she announced to the table.

  Mr. Wernick glared at her. “Brandon has a truck!”

  Mrs. Kansky leaned in closer. “My grandson Pete is a volunteer, collects canned goods for the poor!”

  “That’s really great,” I said.

  I looked around the table. One old man, who apparently was without a marriageable grandson, seemed to be asleep. Brad continued to stare into his laptop as if he were sitting all alone. I wondered if none of these oldsters had granddaughters that they could push on Brad. He could use their help.

  “Pete has always been a thoughtful boy, and a smart one, too!” Mrs. Kansky trilled. She looked at me and winked. “His divorce will be final any day now. A pretty single girl like you might be interested to know that.”

  “Well, I’m not really…”

  The woman to my right whispered in my ear with her smoothie breath. “Your mother says you’re ready to find a fine young man.”

  “A fine young man? What? No!”

  I glanced over at my mother, who was twirling one long curl, gleeful with all the chatter about a subject that she loved: an array of available men. Suddenly, I understood what had prompted this. She’d seen me with Alex and then with the awful Eddy. Crazylicious Candy Canes. She must think I’m on the hunt. Now, she’d enlisted this rock and roll brigade of matchmakers to get me married off.

  Everybody talked at once. “Why, only just last week, Pete collected twenty cans of chicken noodle soup and drove them to the local shelter.”

  “Glenn’s garage holds two cars, and his neighborhood has sidewalks.” Mrs. Eisler glanced at me and blushed. “Sidewalks are so nice in a neighborhood if you’re planning to have kids.”

  My mother clasped her hands in glee. “Sidewalks! Yes! For their little scooters!”

  Mr. Wernick huffed. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with Brandon’s house. And Brandon understands that he should remove his trash cans from the curb in a timely fashion. That way things stay nice.”

  “Glenn’s much too busy to worry about a silly thing like that.” Mrs. Eisler glared at Mr. Wernick, then she looked at me and smiled. “A man has to work hard to earn a paycheck in the four digits.”

  My mother jumped down from the counter. “Charlie, it sounds like you and I need to plan some dinners.”

  Shoot me now.

  “Dinners? Well the thing is that I really…need to get to work.” I finally managed to stand up, removing myself at last from the tight knot of oldsters who were slurping their smoothies loudly.

  My efforts to leave set off another chorus.

  “That paycheck will mean Glenn’s future wife won’t ever have to work,” Mrs. Eisler said in a singsong voice.

  “Who says a woman can’t be free to pursue her own career? Pete’s no anti-feminist. I can tell you that!”

  “Brandon’s free all weekend! Except for an appointment with the doctor about that pesky wart.”

  “Warts are just disgusting. I’d stay away from that. Glenn is very healthy. Runs three miles every day.”

  My mother picked up a cookbook and hugged it to her chest. “Oh, so many dinners!” She paused. “Perhaps I could get creative with beets and cauliflower. Or, maybe a kale frittata, and I have leftover dates.”

  “Pete would enjoy a healthy meal. Did I mention that he has a little garden? Pete’s a fine, fine boy,” Mrs. Kansky said.

  Luckily, they got so caught up with their arguments that they didn’t notice when I managed to sneak into the hall. I had to get to work and solve the case and make some money to pay rent in my own place. Lucas would move out and I’d have the place all to myself. I’d have coffee in my kitchen every morning. There’d be cookies and potatoes and lasagna; there would be blessed quiet.

  “Charlie!” My mother followed me out into the hall. “Wasn’t it so much fun to have breakfast with the group? The students ask about you all the time.” She gave me an appraising smile. “I wonder if they’re a little late with all their talk about these suitors. I think you may have found someone already! Tell me more about that handsome man who was in the car with you yesterday.” She linked her arm through mine. “Have you been keeping secrets from your mother?” Her eyes had the gleam of a huntress about to land her prey. I knew that look. It meant son-in-law in sight.

  The lack of coffee had kicked in with a vengeance. “Mom, he’s just some guy at work, and I really need to go. Plus, he’s a first-class jerk if you really want to know.”

  She looked amused. “Nonsense, I’m sure you’re just being picky.”

  “Trust me,” I said.

  “And why are you working on a weekend?” she asked.

  Drat. I forgot it was a Saturday.

  “We’ve been getting much work from this new client. We need to finish it soon, so we have to work on weekends, too,” I said. Another lie for my mom.

  “You’ve been working way too hard. I thought you might sleep in.”

  “Mom! How in the world could I sleep in when…oh, never mind.” I sighed. “I really need to take a shower now and drive to the office.”

  My mother looked worried as she touched my face to straighten up my glasses and push my hair out of my eyes.

  “The students were so glad to see you,” she said. “I know they’re a little loud, and they all talk at once.” She shook her head. “They’re all half deaf, you know, but they’re from lovely Springston families, and their grandsons are nice men with good heads on their shoulders.” She looked me in the eye. “Thank you for indulging me. I just want the best for you – a great life for my girl.”

  Something in me softened. “Mom, I’m fine. I am!” I tried to reassure her. I was, in fact, a mess, but things were looking up. With the new job, I felt hopeful. Good things, they just took time.

  She studied me, concerned. She looked a little sad, which she almost never did, and for the first time since I’d been home, I could see new lines in her face. It sometimes seemed she never aged.

  I gave her a hug. “Thank you for the smoothie. I feel healthier already.” I’d slid it toward Mr. Wernick, hoping he or Brad would finish it off for me while my mother wasn’t looking.

  Her face lit up in a smile. “I’m so glad you liked it. Now, Charlie, promise me you won’t run off and buy some nasty coffee on your way to work. It can cause ulcers and bloating and gas. It can irritate the lining of your small intestine.”

  I needed to have my coffee. My small intestine felt just fine. I think she could read my mind. She gave me a pleading look. I shut my eyes. Please don’t make me say it.

  “Do it for your mother? I know you kids love your fancy coffee drinks, but it’s important to your mama that you have a long and healthy life.”

  Damn it.

  “I promise. No coffee for me.” Lucifer’s lemon drops, what had I done? I put my hand on the stair rail.

  Grateful,
she grabbed my other hand. “It will do you a world of good. You won’t be so anxious.” She touched her brow. “Your eyebrows will grow back too. Hair loss is not a good look for a young career girl on the go.” She smiled. “We need you looking pretty! Who should we invite first? Pete, or maybe Brandon?”

  “Gotta go, mom,” I said and ran up the stairs.

  I showered and threw on a pale pink T-shirt, my favorite pair of jeans and white sneakers. I tiptoed out the door, lest the overeager matchmakers were waiting in the kitchen to pounce on me again. It was an hour before I had to meet Celeste and Marge, but it didn’t matter. I was out of there.

  As I parked my car in front of the office, I could see the two of them standing at the front desk. Their heads were bent together as if they were in a deep discussion. Once again, I wondered if these women ever slept. I was, after all, the only one with the alarm clock straight from hell, and I always got there last.

  The smell of coffee hit me as soon as I opened the glass door. The smell alone was like a drug. Celeste had moved over to her desk and was on a call. Marge was pouring coffee into her big green mug that said Cat Moms are the Best. She looked at me and smiled. “Morning, hon. Coffee’s fresh.”

  This was absolute torture.

  “No thanks.” I threw my purse onto my desk chair. “I’ve decided to cut back.”

  Marge looked at me, confused, then shrugged. “Celeste is on the phone with Eddy. Dude has overslept and he’ll be a little late.”

  I plopped down on a chair. “You can always count on Eddy,” I said sarcastically.

  Celeste put down the phone. “Hey, girl. How’d you sleep?”

  “Not long enough,” I said.

  She shot me a sympathetic look. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. It could always be worse,” I said and glanced at the coffee pot.

  Celeste leaned back in her chair. “Okay, let’s make a plan. Then we’ll be all set to do this thing when my lazy cousin finds the time to drag himself to work.”

  Marge grabbed her notebook and rolled her chair up to Celeste’s desk. She scribbled something down. “We need to run by Clayton’s coffee place,” she said. “That’s one thing on the list.”

  “That’s right,” Celeste answered. “The Urban Rock Café.”

  A coffee place. Just perfect.

  Celeste thought some more. “Also, let’s see if we can do some more surveillance over at Moraine Avenue. I’m hoping we hit gold. This case needs to move.”

  “The sooner, the better,” I said.

  Marge twirled her pencil, which was topped with a child’s eraser in the shape of a cat’s head.

  “Let’s recap,” she said.

  “Lucas and Perry see two men in an alley right next to The Glazed Doughnut Box,” I said. Doughnut Box. The words made my stomach rumble. “Then, presumably, the men start shooting at the boys.” Perry was in a coma still and unable to clue us in on what he might have seen.

  “Can we be sure that Perry is safe?” Marge asked.

  Celeste nodded. “They’ve got an officer stationed by his room. Let’s hope that’s enough.”

  “How’s Lucas holding up?” I asked.

  Celeste sighed. “The kid is bored to death. At that age, you know how they are. They like to see their buddies and run around at night, and all of that is off-limits. I’ve told him that we’re trying to get this thing wrapped up so he can get out of there, but for now he has to sit tight.”

  “At least he’s safe,” I said, pushing my glasses off my nose.

  “Yeah.” Celeste got up to refresh her coffee. “The police drive by there a lot, and some of my family hang out in front of the apartment house, watching from a parked car to see who comes and goes. They bring him food and magazines, and one of the uncles even sprung for some expensive games for that gaming system Lucas stays glued to all the time.”

  Hmm. That actually sounded like a nice life. Apart from the thugs that are after you.

  “What more could you want,” I asked, “if you’re a teenage boy?”

  That sent Marge into a fit of giggles. “A teenage girl!”

  “No girls!” Celeste said, who was apparently not at all in a joking mood. She sat back down with her mug. “Let’s continue with the recap.”

  I moved my chair a little closer. I hadn’t, after all, promised not to smell the coffee.

  “There’s a protection-money scheme going on in town,” I said, continuing our summary of the case so far. “Everything so far points to that.”

  “It’s run by someone – or some group – who’s fairly new to that kind of business.” Celeste lit up a cigarette.

  Marge continued. “We think that The Glazed Doughnut Box is on the list of places that have to pay up or be sorry.”

  “And maybe that café, too, the one that Peter Clayton owned, which is why we have to go there,” I contributed. “Oh, and let’s add to the recap that Peter Clayton’s dead.”

  “I think the image of him in that garbage bag is burned into our brains forever,” Celeste said.

  Marge took a sip of coffee. “Something’s going on – we’re not sure quite what – at the building Eddy zeroed in on when we were on surveillance.”

  Celeste nodded. “There’s the guy we’ve seen both places, at the doughnut shop and on Moraine Avenue.”

  “Suspicious Guy,” Marge added.

  “Yeah,” Celeste said. “Who is he, you think?”

  Everybody thought. No one had an answer.

  “Too bad the police have figured out the angle about the building we were watching. Although, if that means catching the bad guys sooner and having Lucas safe again, I don’t mind it that much this time.” Celeste blew out a ring of smoke.

  Marge pointed at me with her cat eraser. “I bet Charlie isn’t sorry! She got to see her boyfriend.” She sang out the last words. “I have an idea! You should borrow my new lipstick. You’d look hot with bright red lips.” She began to rummage through her purse.

  “I don’t care about looking hot, Marge, when I’m on surveillance!” Sheesh. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

  Marge pouted. “But you look so cute together, and speaking of hot, don’t you think that Alex is absolutely…”

  “That’s enough!” Celeste said. “I’m getting a headache here.”

  Marge kept going. Love was, after all, her favorite subject. Love and guns. She looked at me imploringly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, so why aren’t you together? Give me one good reason.”

  “You know why as well as I do. It’s our jobs.”

  Marge nodded and leaned in close. “I’ve seen that in the movies. They find themselves in jobs that pit one against the other, and yet their love burns bright. They should be enemies, but true love always wins.”

  “In the movies, yes,” I said, “but this isn’t Hollywood. I’m afraid this is Springston.”

  “Charlie’s right,” Celeste said. “Romance and cops don’t mix. I tried it once. I know.”

  At that moment, Alex’s face flashed across my mind. I did kind of hope he’d show up. A warmth rushed through my body as I wondered if he would. I let myself think for just a minute about the way it felt to kiss him, but then I stopped myself. We couldn’t be together, and he knew it too. Damn my stupid job. Or his.

  “Good morning, ladies!” Eddy’s voice rang out. Speaking of men to stay away from, here was the very one I’d most like to lose.

  “Look who finally decided to come in to work today.” I shot him a look.

  “I’ll get my keys.” Marge leapt up from her chair. “I say the first place that we go is the Urban Rock Café.”

  My mind drifted back to Alex as Marge and Celeste told Eddy what we’d planned. On the drive to the café, I thought about how soft Alex’s lips had felt, how his body had been strong and warm as it pressed against me. In my mind, I was just about to run my fingers through his hair when I was jerked out of the daydream by Marge slamming on the brakes.

 
“Perfect place to park!” she called out happily. “It’s close and free!”

  I caught my breath and looked around. As would be expected for mid-morning on a sunny Saturday, the streets were filled with people and with traffic, all the better to blend in. I glanced at the Urban Rock Café across the street. I couldn’t see it all that well but thought I saw some movement in the window. Hopefully, someone had kept it open after Clayton’s death.

  That was the moment when it hit me that we had a little problem.

  “We can’t just march inside and hit them with a bunch of questions like How come Clayton’s dead?” I said.

  “Charlie’s right,” Marge said.

  “So who do we pretend to be? What’s our business?” I asked.

  You’d think we’d have puzzled this out before we got there, but that’s not how we rolled.

  Everyone fell silent.

  Finally, Celeste spoke. “He had those suspicious bank withdrawals, didn’t he? Let’s use that somehow. It was supposedly all connected to this protection scheme. Let’s say we’re from the bank.”

  “Excellent,” I said. “We’ll ask to speak to Clayton and then we’ll wait to see how they explain his absence. We’ll see how much they spill.”

  “It could be interesting,” Eddy said.

  Marge was deep in thought. “I don’t think there’s any we in the scenario,” she said. “I think just one of us should go. The bank wouldn’t send four people to ask those kinds of things.”

  “Very true,” Eddy said. “Which lovely gal should we send? Which one of you most resembles an official from the bank? I know I don’t look the part.” Beside me, I could feel him preen. “You don’t see guys that look like me working in any bank.”

  “Marge can’t go,” I said, looking at her huge purse. She would coo too much for a bank official, and, even worse, she had been known to stick a gun in someone’s face when words would do instead.

  “I agree,” she said, patting her flowered purse with the telltale bulge. “But the Persuader and I won’t be far away if it turns out that you need us. What about Celeste?” she asked. “She’d make a badass banker.”