LOVE, HOPES, & MARRIAGE TROPES

by Abby L. Vandiver

  “Okay,” I said and smiled. “Sounds good.”

  Chapter Six

  I had been evicted from my life.

  All the things that had separated Alex and I in the first place came swirling into my head as I drove over to the new M.E. office to start on the autopsy. I got Auntie’s permission to borrow one of her cars, all the while hoping she couldn’t detect how befuddled I was over a man.

  I remembered the moment I’d found out that cuts made to balance the Illinois budget had handed down my future without me having one say in it. It had made me feel off-balance. I was out of a job when the governor’s defunding of services meant downsizing the Medical Examiner’s office where I had worked for seven years, and I was too leery of what my finances would be in the coming year to renew the lease on my expensive Sheridan Park apartment in Uptown Chicago. Not wanting to dip into my nest egg, I decided to move.

  My Auntie Zanne came up to see about me and persuaded me to come home. Back to Roble. A small town, population 985 including me, in East Texas.

  That hadn’t been the first time my Auntie Zanne had come to my rescue. At the tender age of twelve, I lost both my parents in a car accident. Auntie Zanne, my mother’s oldest sister, high-tailed it to Beaumont where I lived to get me, arriving before I could shed a tear.

  I pulled into the parking lot of the building housing the new medical examiner facilities. My deliveries, which were being made by Catfish, were scheduled to arrive any minute but I couldn’t pull myself out of the car. Alexander Hale’s appearance had sent me for a loop.

  What did he want to talk to me about?

  Maybe he was finally coming to tell me that everything was okay. That we could finally be together...

  I closed my eyes and leaned back on the headrest. Maybe I could get back to the life I wanted.

  Life had been different for me after coming to live with Auntie Zanne. She had been widowed at an early age and it had made her fiercely independent. She’d abandoned our French Creole heritage and turned Texan. Big hair and attitude, small town nosiness, she’d traded a Roman Catholic mass for a three-hour service at the local Baptist church, and abandoned her native Louisiana Creole language for a Southern drawl. The only thing she held onto from her roots was the magic and mystery of Voodoo.

  I, on the other hand, was proud of my heritage, and that difference in us, even though we got along and I knew there was nothing in life she loved more than me, always made me want to leave. Forge the life I wanted some place other than there.

  It hadn’t ever been my intention to make my move back to Roble permanent, although Auntie told everyone I was there to stay. My plan was just to stay long enough to regroup, use my Chicago contacts, including Alex, to find another job. I’d be back in to the Big City in no time.

  So I thought.

  I soon found that the people I had included in my small circle of closest and dearest friends–the privileged and professional–became obtuse and aloof once my circumstances changed. But even with that fact swimming around in the back of my head, I didn’t want to stay in Roble.

  And I had been sure to let everyone in town know that.

  I was going back to the life I had meticulously built for myself, which didn’t include the familiar slow drawl and friendly countenance, colorful sayings, or intrusive hospitality of East Texans. Nor did it include a weather forecast which included predictions on the amount my hair would frizz.

  Something that didn’t take long for Alex to notice.

  Some may consider it rebelling, most thought it uppity. And at forty-something, it perhaps did seem quite childish of me, I know. But I didn’t care. I just wanted something more, and I didn’t want to count on Auntie Zanne again to give it to me. It was me that was supposed to be taking care of my eighty-two-year-old auntie. Not the other way around. It was me, after eight years of post-secondary education, and many more getting certifications, residencies, and fellowships who was supposed to move forward and not backward in status.

  To have all the things my heart desired.

  Which brought me right back to that bolt-out-of-the-blue—Dr. Alexander Hale.

  The man who had saved the life of the groom.

  The one that was hopefully all set to save me.

  From the moment I met him, it was him that I dreamed of being with until death do we part.

  But things don’t always go the way one hopes. Alex turned out to be already married.

  Separated. Almost divorced. So he put it.

  But like one of those Southern sayings I wanted no part of, “almost” only counted in hand grenades and horseshoes.

  Knock. Knock.

  Knuckles hitting my window gave me a jump. It was Catfish. I pushed the switch and let down the window.

  “I didn’t hear you come up,” I said. “You scared me.”

  “You were lost in thought,” he said and smiled. “Unlock the door,” he said, pointing at it. I popped it and he grabbed the outside handle and opened the door for me. He held out a hand to help me out. “I thought I’d beat you here with all the goings on at your house. You been here long?”

  “You didn’t hear?” I asked, stepping out of the car.

  “Hear what?” he said.

  “Groom had an asthma attack,” I said. “Ambulance had to come and get him. They had to postpone the wedding.”

  “Oh wow,” Catfish said. “So Babet didn’t get to perform her first wedding, huh?” He laughed. “She was really looking forward to it.”

  “She’ll get her chance. They’ll probably only keep him overnight. Maybe they can try at another ceremony next weekend,” I said. “If they do, though, I’ll have to find someplace else to be.”

  Maybe in Chicago with Alex...

  “I don’t know,” Catfish said. “Next week is Homecoming at the high school. She’ll be super busy. Probably won’t want to do another wedding then.”

  “That’s next week?” I asked. “I will definitely have to be somewhere else.”

  In East Texas, football was next to God. And at a Roble High School Homecoming more people came to participate than there were sinners in church on Easter Sunday. Everyone came to give their praise whether the team was winning or not. Week long events—dinners, dances, school spirit activities and of course the game. A big deal for Roble High School, an even bigger deal for The Roble Belles Booster Club, which Auntie Zanne proudly ran.

  “She didn’t tell me,” I said. “I’m surprised she hadn’t asked me to help plan it.”

  “She wanted you to get the work done here,” he said. “Finish setting up ‘your office’ as she told me.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not my office,” I said.

  He held up his hands. “Only repeating what she said to me.”

  “You didn’t tell her you were helping me today, did you?” I asked. “I told her I had deliveries coming. If she knew they were just from you, she would have tried to make me postpone them and stay at the house. I used them as a means of getting away.”

  Catfish laughed. “Didn’t say a word. I figured if you wanted her to know, you would’ve told her.”

  “Thank you, Catfish,” I said.

  “Anything for you,” he said.

  Catfish looked cute in his green bucket hat and overalls, his usual attire. He was an outdoorsman, keeping property out in the pinelands close to the Sabine River. He fished, hunted and farmed, but he was handy and could help me with anything I needed.

  He always kept his curly hair cut close and tapered on the side. He had stubbly five o’clock shadow all day and bright hazel eyes and caramel-colored skin. He’d had a crush on me from the day I arrived in Roble. Self-appointed guardian of the uppity black girl who thought she was French. He made sure no one bothered me and I got to grieve over the loss of my parents in my own time.

  Although I couldn’t ever see mys
elf dating him, he was a good friend and I cared very much for him. I was just as protective of him as he was of me.

  “Well, let’s not stand in this parking lot all day,” I said. “Let’s see what you’ve got on this truck.”

  “I got it,” he said. “You go on in and unlock the door. Can you prop it open for me?”

  “Sure can,” I said and smiled.

  The new ME facility was up-to-date, well-lit, and beautiful. It made me beam with pride. I had been the point person for the County on style, design and functionality. Everything was state-of-the-art and had been ordered and installed by the contractor I chose and equipped with all of my suggestions. The County had been more than pleased with my work and was disappointed that I committed only to the design aspect of it all not taking the job.

  I didn’t even hesitate when I told them no I wouldn’t take the position as the Tri-County Medical Examiner. Dr. Harley Westin, long time ME and longtime friend of our family, would have been happy that I followed in his footsteps. It was his shoes that I stepped into when Roble had its first ever murder. A murder that put the Ball Funeral Home front and center. A fact not taken too well by my Auntie Zanne, especially since it involved one of her closest and dearest friends, Josephine Gail Cox.

  Josephine Gail suffered from depression. It was something well understood and well-guarded by my Auntie. She cared for her friend when her bouts would incapacitate her like she was her child. They had been friends since I could remember, and it was Auntie who nursed her back to health after her stays at the mental hospital, sometimes after sessions of electro shock therapy. When Roble’s first murder involved Josephine Gail, my Auntie took up the case without hesitation.

  I had asked Catfish to help me with what was left at the old office, mostly paper files and personal equipment that Doc Westin had left, and a few pictures that I thought would look nice on the walls.

  Doc Westin had boxes of old autopsy reports that needed to be scanned into the new computer system. A few boxes looked personal. Looking through those was a Catch-22. I didn’t want to pry into his business, and was planning on giving his personal items to his widow, but I wasn’t sure if those boxes also contained confidential information on deaths and cases he’d worked on. I surely couldn’t take the chance that I passed on such sensitive information.

  “So I heard Chicago was trying to swoop you back up,” Catfish said, he pulled his hat off his head and sat down across from me. He had a twinkle in his eye

  “What are you talking about, Catfish?” I asked, a chuckle ready to erupt.

  “Your gentleman caller.”

  “Ha!” I said. “Where’d you get that word from?”

  “That’s what he is, isn’t he?”

  “I thought you didn’t hear anything about what happened today.”

  “I didn’t hear about the asthma attack, but I know that you had a man come in town looking for you. One driving a real fancy car.”

  I shook my head. Alex must have stopped and asked for directions or something. I swear, Roble was the capital of Rumor Town.

  “A red Jaguar,” I said with a nod.

  “You leaving with him?”

  I tilted my head, thoughts racing through my head, I didn’t know what to say to him. It’s what I wanted to do. All my hopes resting on me going back to Chicago and being with him had been the reason I refused to take Doc Westin’s position.

  And Alex had said he had something to tell me.

  “Don’t have an answer for that?” Catfish broke into my thoughts. “Or just not an answer you want to share with me?”

  “I don’t mind sharing with you, Catfish,” I said and shrugged. “It’s just that I don’t have an answer for that.”

  My cell phone rang and saved me. I didn’t want to wax emotional. I dug it out of my bag and looked at the screen.

  “It’s Auntie Zanne,” I said. “What could she want?”

  “When it comes to Babet, you never know.”

  “Hi,” I said, swiping the ACCEPT icon.

  “Got bad news,” she said, never one to beat around the bush.

  “What?” I said. My mind went straight to Alex. “What happened?”

  “It’s Bumper,” she said. “He’s dead.”

  Chapter Seven

  I couldn’t get into the house fast enough for Auntie. When she gave me the news, she asked me to come as soon as I could. She needed me.

  I thought perhaps she was upset about Bumper’s death. After all, she was club members with his mother, and the wedding and his subsequent death happened at her home and place of business.

  “I know Delores Hackett is beside herself,” she’d said. “She is such a recluse. I don’t think she’s ever left Roble and Bumper was her life.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I’d said.

  “That poor, poor woman...”

  But as soon as I got home, I learned it wasn’t concern for that “poor, poor woman.” It was that she wanted me to hurry so I’d have time to cook up something for her to take with her over to the Hackett’s house. I didn’t understand why she just couldn’t cook something herself.

  “I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” she said, standing behind me, she had her palms in the middle of my back pushing me toward the kitchen. I guess I wasn’t moving fast enough for her. “I need you to get something done before you start getting ready for your date with the Chief-of-Staff.”

  “Alex,” I said. Now I understood why it was so annoying when I kept calling him that. She had chastised me about it enough. “Just call him Alex.”

  “Alex, the Chicago doctor?” Rhett asked, putting a silly grin on his face as soon as we emerged through the doorway. He was sitting at the table eating. I wondered why whoever had fixed him food, couldn’t do the same for the Hacketts.

  “Do you have a home?” I asked.

  “I do,” he said. “I just like the warmth and coziness of this kitchen. Family gathered together. Good food. Nice company.” He winked at me.

  “You know, I know that you call yourself flirting with me,” I said.

  “I hoped you’d notice,” Rhett said, still smiling.

  “I was wondering if she ever would,” Auntie said. “Sometimes even with all her book knowledge, she’s pretty dumb about stuff.”

  “I just don’t know if it might not be a waste of your time,” I said.

  “Better stop sending all these guys packing, she said, “might not be any gentlemen callers left to come.”

  “All what guys?” I said.

  “I’m usually pretty good at managing my time,” Rhett said, I guess rescuing me from my auntie’s comment. “And it seems as if I always have time for you.”

  “Aww that was sweet,” Auntie said, a big grin on her face. “Wasn’t that sweet, Romaine? He has time for you.”

  “Have you been drinking some of Auntie’s brews?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “I may have let her try one or two out on me.”

  “See. Now I understand. I’d steer clear if I were you, Rhett. She’ll have you crowing like a chicken, or barking like a dog, dancing naked under the moonlight.”

  “Dogs or chickens can’t go naked,” Auntie Zanne said. “You might want to tame down on your hyperbole. Work on not trying to scare away my clients.”

  “How about if I just work on whatever it is you want me to cook so I can go out on my date with my beau.”

  “Is he really your beau?” Rhett asked, it seemed his jovial smile he’d worn throughout our prior conversation had disappeared.

  “Last time I checked he was,” I said. All the time those words were tumbling from my lips, my head was reminding me that I really didn’t know the answer to that.

  “Look at you, all gussied up,” Auntie Zanne said as I came down the steps. “Haven’t seen you in make-up since you left Chicago.”
<
br />   “That’s not true,” I said, although it probably was. “I wanted to look nice to go out, Auntie, so don’t give me a hard time about it.”

  I still was feeling bad from when she said I was sending men away. I surely didn’t want to do that, but I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to give up on Alex yet either.

  I’d straightened my hair as best I could with the humidity the Texas’ air was laden with and put on make-up—the two things Alex noticed different about me. After seeing him, I couldn’t decide if it was him I cared about anymore or that he was my ticket back out of Roble.

  I had on five-inch heels, a slimming black dress with a plunging neckline and a swing to my walk. With the way I looked, there was nothing to complain about.

  When Alex knocked, Auntie made me go and wait in the parlor, as she liked to call it. In her conversations with me about dating she always hastened back to an earlier time using terms like “courting” and “gentleman callers.” I was nervous about him seeing me. As soon as Auntie walked him into the room, it was easy to see that he wasn’t feeling well.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  His lips and the tip of his nose had a red tinge to them. His face was contorted like he was in pain and he was rubbing his hand over his belly.

  “Does your stomach hurt?” I asked.

  “Not really,” he said. “I feel...” he shrugged, “just kind of nauseated, but that is nothing compared to this.” He put his fingers up to his lips and winced. “They’re really painful to the touch.”

  “Then don’t touch them,” Auntie said.

  “You look awful,” I said, I saw his fingertips were red too as he put his hands down. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I took a shower, lied across the bed and must’ve fell asleep. When I got up to get ready to come and get you, this is what I saw in the mirror.”