Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5)

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Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5) Page 12

by Jerilyn Dufresne


  “We’ll send someone immediately. Is your house unlocked?”

  “Yes,” I screamed. It seemed my bad habit of not locking my door was a good thing today.

  I lay there willing myself to calm down. I used controlled breathing and thought stopping, and soon my breathing and pulse both slowed. Now that I was calmer I remembered that only a small part of my body was covered—my panties and bra didn’t cover much and the slip only covered my head, shoulders, and arms.

  My tears dried on my cheeks as I started laughing. This was a story I’d never forget. Sure, I wished it was happening to somebody other than me, but once it was over, my embarrassment would be over too, and I’d be able to tell the story with great glee.

  “Sam?” I heard in a vaguely familiar male voice. I also heard Clancy take a few steps toward the voice to check out whoever it was.

  “Yes. Who are you?” I asked as I desperately tried to suck in my belly.

  Through his laughter he said, “Danny. Danny Jacobsen. We know each other from the ER.”

  “Hey, Danny. How’s Connie?” His wife was an RN in the ER and Danny was a paramedic. “I haven’t seen you guys since ‘the incident.’” The incident was one where I solved murders but got shot in the butt and choked while solving them. A giggle escaped. “I can’t believe I’m asking about you and your wife and I’m lying here dying in this slip.”

  Danny continued laughing. I heard him say to someone else, “Call the fire department. Tell them they can turn around. We won’t need any help.”

  “Omigosh. Thank you for stopping them from coming. It’s bad enough that you see me like this.”

  I felt the quilt from my bed being placed over me and immediately felt better.

  “So are you just stuck, and that’s the only problem?”

  “I think that’s enough,” I said. “Well, I’m getting married today, so it’s kind of important that you get me out of this.”

  “You and George getting married? That’s cool,” he said, while he started trying to pull the slip off my head. “Can you stand up? It would be a lot easier.”

  “Nope. Need my hands for that, and they’re occupied.” I can still be sarcastic, even when I’m being held captive by a piece of clothing.

  “No problem,” he said in his calm voice. “I’ll just lie down here and get you out.” I felt him lie down near my head and felt him tug. “Maybe I’ll try it a different way.” I felt him move to a different position. Then finally, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to put my feet on your shoulders to get any leverage.” He moved the slip easily from around my shoulders, but it didn’t loosen the grip the garment had on my arms and head.

  “Taking my boots off,” he said. Then I felt his sweaty, stinky feet grip on my shoulders as he pulled heartily. With an “oomph” the slip released its vice grip from my body and Danny flew a few feet away from me.

  “Darn thing was like a sling shot,” he said, and gulped some air as he rubbed his head.

  Finally I was able to stand up, and I did so slowly while holding the quilt around me. “Thank you so much, Danny. And I know you won’t tell anyone because of confidentiality. Right?”

  “Right,” he said. His smile showed that he would dearly love to make me the butt of gossip, though I knew he would be professional and not blab about my ridiculous predicament.

  “But… is it okay if I tell an anonymous story about an anonymous person who would have been right at home in an I Love Lucy episode?”

  I play-punched him while still holding up the quilt.

  He walked out the door before his partner came back in, sparing me additional embarrassment.

  The rest of my preparations were uneventful. But of course I couldn’t resist telling Kristopher and Danielle about my underwear adventure when they came, and the howls of laughter slowed everything down.

  As she put the finishing touches on my face, Danielle said, “You know you’re supposed to step into those things, and not put them over your head? Right? You do know that?”

  “I do now,” was all I could say.

  When Sarah came back to help me put on my dress, I told the story again, and she also had to stop and wipe the tears from her eyes. Luckily Danielle was still there and was able to touch up Sarah’s makeup before she left. Even though the wedding was family only, I’d given Kristopher and Danielle an informal invitation a few days earlier, to thank them for going the extra mile for me.

  My daughter gave me the once-over, and smiled. “You look beautiful, Mom.”

  “You do too, honey. You’re absolutely stunning.”

  We stood side by side and looked into the full-length mirror that hid behind my bedroom door. What we saw were “two peas in a pod.” Like me, Sarah was short and blonde, although her hair was naturally so. I wore a cornflower blue knee length dress, and she wore an identical dress except hers was light blue. I had no need to be the “star of the show” as I did at my first marriage. Most brides don’t want anyone to wear their color. Today I loved that my daughter looked so much like me.

  “Let’s go,” she finally said. “It’s time.”

  “Okay.” An errant tear appeared as I looked around at my little nest. Things are going to be different after today, I thought.

  Sarah helped Clancy and me get into her Jeep and she backed cautiously out of the courtyard. There were no garbage trucks in the alley, ready to hit my car, as had happened the year before. There were no villains lurking in the bushes. Just my daughter and I going to St. Francis Church so I could get married.

  “Hmmm. The parking lot’s full. Wonder what’s up,” said Sarah as she expertly parked in the space reserved for the bride.

  “Maybe there’s something else going on. You know, in the school or the parish center.”

  My car door was opened by the friendly giant. “You look gorgeous,” said an ever tall and ever smiling Nibby. “I finished decorating the church just in time. Everything is perfect.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” I said as I gave him the best hug a short person could give him.

  I stood there and adjusted my dress, wishing it was a little warmer, but happy it wasn’t snowing or storming. I started up the stairs, then waited for Sarah to join me. After a moment, I turned to see Nibby frantically waving about and whispering to her.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I said as I began panicking.

  Sarah and Nibby both hurried to my side.

  “Nothing,” they said together, a sure sign they were lying.

  I wished that I had the time to force the information out of them, but it was time for me to get married. Nothing was going to stop me. Not them conspiring, not the fight I had with George, and certainly not being attacked by a piece of clothing.

  Sarah helped me walk up the rest of the stairs to the main entrance of the gorgeous old Gothic church. She must have texted Adam because the heavy door swung open without us touching it. There my son stood, looking incredibly handsome in his tux.

  “Mom, you look beautiful,” he said. I could get used to all these compliments. However, when I looked at him more closely I noticed his face was sweating and his hands were shaking.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” said Adam, Sarah, and Nibby.

  At that point I was truly scared. “Is George here? Is that the problem? He didn’t come?”

  “No,” again together.

  “Tell me now!” I demanded.

  “You’ll find out in just a second, Mom. Relax. Everything will be fine.” Adam took my arm and started toward the inside door.

  What could go wrong? It’s a small family wedding. I don’t care if everything is perfect. I just want George there and my sibs and their families. That’s all I want.

  I stood still for a brief moment before Adam opened the inner door. Clancy stood next to him, ready to fulfill her ring bearer duties. I took a deep breath, then looked at my handsome son, and relaxed. Nibby nodded and pulled the door open so Sarah could walk in be
fore me. I looked down again to make sure my dress was straight. I heard a rustling right before the entrance music started. When I looked up again, my eyes welled up. Rather than my immediate family gracing the first few rows of the large church, the place was packed.

  It was hard seeing through my tears. “How did they all find out?”

  Adam shrugged his shoulders.

  “It doesn’t matter how they found out, I guess.” I turned to Adam. “Is this what you guys were worried about? That I’d be upset at this?”

  “Yeah. Sorta. We know you wanted a small intimate wedding, and that’s what you planned. So we didn’t know how you would take this.”

  “I love it,” I said. “I just love it.” I turned to my other side. “Nibby, can you make arrangements for beer and soda for…I don’t know…500 or so?”

  “Well, I have made a few contacts since I’ve been in town. The drinks are easy. It’s the food I worry about.”

  “Okay, go to the Bread Company and get any cake-like item they have—rolls, scones, whatever. Tell them the situation. They’ll let me pay later. Then go to the supermarket next door to them and do the same. You can get those frosted angel food cakes they have. I bet that will be enough with the cake you already have. Then get some chips and dips and maybe pre-made sandwiches. Whatever. I don’t care. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to be in.”

  I told Clancy to walk up the aisle until she got to George. Then I asked Sarah to start walking. As Sarah got about a fourth of the way up the aisle, I began my trek with Adam. Already my face hurt from smiling. I looked from side to side and saw people that I was not surprised to see, but also people who totally surprised me.

  Sitting with invited guests, Gus and Georgianne, were Julianne and Marianne, Georgianne’s sisters; Julianne’s husband, and Sheriff Jeremiah from Crackertown. I also saw Chip, Wilma, and Bob Bob along with his sister Mary Bob, all from the town where I had my infamous adventure at the Chicken Convention.

  Marian Dougherty and Leonard Schnitzer were there from work. Danny Jacobsen, the paramedic, and his wife Connie were sitting on the aisle, along with Dr. Bob, Clancy’s vet. Jimmy Mansfield, Sarah’s boyfriend, was there as an invited guest.

  I spotted Conrad Waterkotte, the coroner, and Michael O’Dear, the P.I. I’d had a horrible crush on just last year. Also present were tons of relatives who hadn’t been invited. Knowing them, they probably all figured that their invitation got “lost in the mail.” That thought made me smile. The rows of people continued until all I saw was a sea of faces. Throughout it all Adam kept slowly walking me ever forward toward the front of the church.

  I hadn’t looked toward the altar yet, but when I did I saw my beloved. George was indeed present and hadn’t backed out. To his right was Cal Wade, his best man. And standing on the stairs in front of the altar was Pete, my brother the priest.

  Where could all this water be coming from? I wondered why I’d bothered to have my makeup done.

  I’d survived an I Love Lucy episode at my house, and still looked presentable—even beautiful—if Sarah, Nibby, and Adam were to be believed. And now I was marrying my high school boyfriend.

  I noticed George’s eyebrows shoot up and his eyes widen as I approached him. Good signs. He took my hand immediately, but I released it for a moment as I turned and hugged my son. Then I slid my hand back into George’s warm grip, noticing that the tears in his eyes matched my own.

  My sisters, Jen and Jill, presented the readings and did themselves proud. They sounded professional. My brothers, Ed and Rob, brought up the gifts at the Offertory. I half expected them to do something silly, but both of them took their role seriously.

  George and I held hands throughout most of the ceremony, releasing them only when it was time to make the Sign of the Cross, when we gave the sign of peace to people around us, and when we exchanged the rings.

  George and I gave each other a fairly chaste kiss when Pete pronounced, “You may kiss your bride, George. You may kiss your husband, Sam.”

  At the end of Mass Pete said, “I have the great honor to introduce the married couple to you—Samantha Darling and George Lansing.”

  The applause was immediate and I kissed Pete, or Father Brother as he’s nicknamed. I broke from protocol to thank everyone for coming and to say that every single one of them was invited to the reception. Then George and I ran down the aisle as quickly as my middle-aged, out-of-shape legs could carry me.

  At the church entrance George and I looked at each other. He whispered, “At last,” and gave me the kiss that I adored. He always kissed me like I was the most important person in the world. Today it was even better. Today he kissed me like I was the only person in the world.

  TWENTY

  George and I went directly to the parish hall for the reception. Since it was a Catholic wedding, alcohol was allowed, and I was grateful. My relatives would be really disappointed at a reception without alcohol, and it was much easier to walk across a driveway than to drive all the way across town.

  We formed the obligatory reception line with my sibs, my kids, Clancy, and Best Man Cal Wade in a row, and greeted person after person, most of whom played important roles in our lives. There were other people I hardly knew who were friends and relatives of George. And now were to be friends and relatives of mine. Clancy sat quietly by Adam and offered a paw whenever it seemed appropriate. The line stopped just as I thought I couldn’t shake another hand. As we were disbanding to get to the photos and then the party, another person walked in—Michael O’Dear.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, then gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He shook George’s hand with a hearty, “Congratulations” and looked at me, saying, “Save a dance for me?”

  I nodded, smiling the stupid smile I always displayed when around Michael. George grabbed me for a proprietary hug, and I whispered, “The best man won.”

  He smiled so I knew it was the right thing to say. However, Michael never did fight for me. He flirted, but that was it. The romance was all in my head. Luckily George did fight for me, although the fight was only against the grudge I’d held for nearly twenty-five years.

  What a dope, I thought.

  “Who’s a dope? O’Dear?” George asked.

  “Oops, I said that out loud, huh?” I laughed. “The dope is me, for holding a grudge for so long. Have you forgiven me?” I asked this, knowing the answer.

  “I forgave you even before you said you were sorry,” he said. Another exquisite kiss followed his statement.

  We quickly had a few pictures taken by Jen’s husband Ben. No need for a professional photographer for this informal affair. We knew there would be a ton of photos on Facebook soon, and we could choose which ones we liked from there.

  The main problem was that we needed more tables and chairs. Just as I had the thought, I noticed people carrying additional seating in from the storeroom, directed by an ever-vigilant Nibby.

  I let go of George’s hand to walk to Nibby. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done. You’ve gone above and beyond.”

  “It’s no problem. Luckily you and George are flexible, because all these guests sure threw a wrench into the planning.”

  “I’m just so happy. I didn’t care who showed up, as long as George did.”

  Nibby grinned.

  “Were you able to get more food?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I cleaned out the grocery store, and the Bread Company, but I think people will find something to eat. Non-traditional food, but food nonetheless.”

  I returned his smile, then remembered, “I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask. Your name is Hender, but most folks in your town have the name Henderson. What’s the deal?”

  “I’m a Henderson too, but cut off the ‘son’ because I wanted to be different. You have noticed I’m a little different, haven’t you?”

  I gave him another awkward “short person to tall person” hug. “I just know you’re marvelous. Thanks again for everything.”
>
  He motioned that it was nothing, and got back to work.

  I returned to George. “What should we do first?”

  He grinned.

  “Later, my love,” I said in reply to his grin.

  “Right now, I don’t think it matters what we do.”

  “Well, then,” I said, “let’s just cut the cake so people can eat something, then we can start the dancing. Okay with you?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. I just want to get to the ‘later’ part.” Another kiss followed his statement.

  So we cut the cake, and cut a cinnamon roll for good measure, then went through the food line. Besides the planned for sandwiches, chips, fruit, potato salad, and cole slaw, there sat an array of chippy things, dips, rolls, cheese platter, lunch meat platter, candy, doughnuts, bagels, and more. An amazing, impromptu feast.

  “This is much more like us,” I said to George as we picked our way through.

  He nodded, stuffing an olive in his mouth.

  We ate what we’d chosen and sat at a table where we could see everyone. Since it was to be mostly family, we’d decided against a head table and said folks could sit where they wanted to. We were joined by my son and daughter, her boyfriend, and Gus and Georgianne. My sisters and brother Ed were with their spouses and children, and Rob sat with Pete in the midst of them. Naturally Clancy was by my side.

  I gobbled the cake, glad I didn’t have to settle for any of the substitutes. Then impulsively I stood and announced, “Even though we’d only planned for a small wedding, we are so grateful that you all attended.”

  George stood and added, “I just hope there’s enough food for everyone.” Everyone laughed in response. “We don’t have a program planned, since this is informal, so just start dancing when the music starts. Don’t worry about waiting for us to have our first dance. We’ll manage that even if the dance floor is full.”

  At that he nodded to Ed, who’d brought a stereo system. When the music started, the young ones immediately got up to dance. George and I sat for a few minutes, watching and smiling.

 

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