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Secondhand Stiff (The Odelia Grey Mysteries)

Page 26

by Jaffarian, Sue Ann


  I glanced out the patio door again to see Mom sitting like a reigning queen, Bill Baxter by her side. We’d been wrong about Bill. He was just a lonely old man with too much time on his hands. Mom was holding court, telling everyone how she freed herself by jumping out a window. To hear her talk, it was two stories up and shots were being fired at her at the time.

  “Mom says she’s moving here,” Clark said. “That true?”

  “Yes, I think so.” I looked up at my older half brother. “You’d think with everything that has happened, she’d run back to New Hampshire as fast as her spindly legs could carry her, but no.”

  Clark laughed. “Not now. Not when she’s gotten a taste of excitement and bonded with her favorite daughter.”

  “I’m her only daughter.”

  “Ah, yes, but still her favorite.” He turned serious. “I’m really happy you and Mom seem to have settled your differences. She can be a real pain in the ass, but she loves you and would die for you.”

  “I know.” I glanced out the door again. “Really. I know that now.”

  “And how about that Bill guy? You think he’ll end up being our stepfather?”

  I shook my head and grinned. “No. Something tells me Mom will tire of him quickly. He’s too needy for her. She’s already told me she wants to keep her options open.”

  Clark laughed. “Jesus, but she’s a pistol.”

  The front door opened, and Wainwright charged for it. I handed my brother a bottle of wine and asked him to go around and replenish people’s glasses while I greeted the new guest. This time it was Dev Frye. He was alone. I gave him a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. On the phone you sounded doubtful. Where’s Beverly?”

  “Odelia, Bev and I broke up.” He said it with the same bluntness reserved for interrogations. I know because he’s had to interrogate me on more than one occasion. “Our trouble started around Halloween and finally collapsed just before Thanksgiving.”

  I took a step back and studied his face. He looked tired, like he needed a two-day nap. “I’m so very sorry, Dev. What happened? I thought you two were happy.”

  He shook his head like a dejected old bull. “Bev didn’t want me to return to the job after my heart attack. She hated my being a cop. That was the beginning. Then she got a great job offer in Seattle and asked me to retire and go with her. For the past few weeks I’ve actually been weighing that option.”

  “That’s why you haven’t been yourself lately.” I took his beefy hands between mine. “So you decided to stay, and that ended it?”

  “Yep.” His head bobbed in confirmation. “I didn’t want to leave my daughter and her family. I didn’t want to start over and make new friends. And I love being a cop. It’s who I am. It’s all I know.” He squeezed my hands. “I owe both you and Greg an apology for that night. I was really out of line with that BS about Willie.”

  “Not at all, Dev.” I gave him another quick hug. “I’m so sorry about Bev but so glad you’re staying.”

  “I have to stay. I have to keep you and Greg in line. Andrea can’t do it all by herself.”

  I laughed and started directing Dev through the house to the back. “Speaking of Andrea”—I pointed to where the detective stood—“She’s right there, talking with Clark. Go be amongst your own kind.”

  Dev’s eyes moved from Andrea to my mother. “I hear Grace is staying on in Cali.”

  “You heard right.”

  “Good thing, then, that I’m staying put. Now there’s three of you snoops to keep track of.” He bent, kissed my cheek, and took off in the direction of Andrea and Clark.

  It was almost time to eat when Zee came into the kitchen. She gave me a long, warm hug. Gawd, how I miss her when she and Seth travel.

  She ended the hug and said in a soft voice, “Greg says it’s time, Odelia.”

  I nodded, picked up a plain box from the edge of the kitchen counter, and followed Zee outside.

  Greg handed the grill tongs off to Seth and joined me in front of the bougainvillea. He put his hand on the small of my back. From it I absorbed warmth and strength. Everyone stood. Greg called Wainwright to his side. Ina brought Muffin over and put her in Greg’s lap.

  “We have a lot to celebrate today,” Greg began, “and are so happy you, our family and our friends, both new and old, are here with us today. Ina is free.” He nodded to his cousin. “Grace is coming to live here.” We both smiled at Mom. She was standing in front of the crowd, staring at the box and dabbing at tears with one of her linen hankies. Clark was beside her, one of his strong arms tucking her close.

  “We are also gathered here today,” Greg continued, “to say goodbye to Seamus, a beloved and faithful companion. I remember when Odelia and I first started dating. Wainwright wanted to be friends with Seamus, and the cranky old cat wanted none of it. You’ve never seen such fussing, hissing, and scratching. And that was from Odelia.”

  Everyone laughed, even those who were crying. I whacked my husband’s shoulder with my elbow and everyone laughed again.

  “But in time,” he continued, “we became a family. Seamus and Wainwright became good friends and even welcomed Muffin when she came on board. Odelia and I have been blessed with loving families, loyal friends, and the best four-legged companions anyone could hope for. But today we lay one of our fur kids to rest, thankful that for a while he was a wonderful part of our lives.” Finished, Greg turned to me.

  I had something prepared to say about how Seamus came to live with me all those years ago, but I couldn’t make it through the words. I clutched the box to my breast and felt hot tears run down my face. Greg’s wonderful words would have to serve as Seamus’s only eulogy.

  I opened the box, knelt in front of the bougainvillea, and scattered the cat’s ashes around the base of the plant he had loved so much.

  I swallowed and sniffed. From over my shoulder a white cloth appeared. It was one of Mom’s linen handkerchiefs, one of the ones we had bought her. She had stepped forward and was offering it to me—an olive branch of peace and shared grief. I took it and wiped my eyes and stared at the base of the bush where soon the gray ashes would mingle with the ground moisture to be absorbed into the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But nothing would ever dilute my memory of the cat who came to me dyed green and in need of help and stayed to steal my heart.

  I touched the damp ground under the bush. “Goodbye, dear friend. Thank you.”

  the end

 

 

 


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