by G M Barlean
That was only the beginning of our problems with Naomi.
Chapter 7
Gloria clicked her pen in and out—a nervous habit. Then she noticed Debbie glaring at her hand. Gloria put the ballpoint down and began to think about the story Betty had told. Naomi was clearly a piece of work, but high school drama wasn’t enough reason to kill someone. “Sounds like the catfight began right there and then.” Gloria started to yawn but tried to keep her mouth closed to hide it. A sleepless night was coming back to haunt her.
Anger flared in Debbie’s eyes and Gloria realized she hadn’t hid her yawn.
“Oh, bored are you?” Debbie cocked her head to the side and pursed her wrinkled lips.
“No, no. I’m just tired. But, I am most interested in the story about Naomi going missing in ’74.”
Gloria didn’t want to upset them, but her mother’s words about taking time away from her job lurked at the back of her mind.
“Well, don’t you worry, precious. We’re starting at the beginning for a reason. You’ll understand soon enough.” Debbie crossed her spindly legs and drummed her fingernails on the table.
Gloria hadn’t meant to upset anyone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted. Really. I’m sure it will all make sense in the end.”
“You’re darn right it’s gonna make sense in the end.” Debbie mumbled curses under her breath. “I’m gonna tell the next part of the story if it’s all the same to you, Betty.” Debbie scooted up to the table and shot a defiant stare in Gloria’s general direction.
“Absolutely. Go right ahead,” Betty said, then relaxed in the chair and sipped her water.
Then Debbie took everyone back in time.
Debbie Takes Over—Summer 1951
Charlie O’Dell ran the soda fountain at the back of Mickey’s Dime and Drug on Tenth Street. Whenever it was my turn to pick where we went, I picked Mickey’s. I loved the white paper hat and fresh, clean apron Charlie wore every day. He served malteds and sodas with nice long red-striped straws. To me, there was something about the long shiny counter and the bright red stools. Everything at Charlie’s counter was spic and span, and I needed to be in a clean place once in a while.
I always got a Black Cow and Tanya a strawberry soda unless it was winter, then she drank coffee. Then we’d argue about why our drink was better than the others. I love a good argument, especially with Tanya.
“The thing is, Debbie, with the strawberry soda, you get whipped cream and a strawberry. Everyone knows more is better.” Tanya popped the fresh fruit into her mouth.
I took my gum out and stuck it behind my ear to save for later. “No contest, Tanya. A Black Cow is pure—just root beer, soda, and ice cream. Whipped cream and strawberries are for amateurs. Less is more.” I was used to having less.
Josie rolled her eyes and sipped on her cherry Coke. “Seriously, who cares?”
Mari and Betty glanced back toward the pharmacy counter. Something had gotten their attention. I followed their gaze and saw Naomi and her mother, Mrs. Waterman, talking to the pharmacist.
Mari shifted her attention back to her chocolate malt, but I fumed at the mere sight of Naomi and continued to stare. I hated Naomi so much. The way she flaunted Doug on her arm our entire senior year. The embarrassed look on Mari’s face every time she saw them together. The joy on Naomi’s face every time she saw Mari look away from them. The way Doug had fallen head over heels for Naomi had been pitiful.
“I’m going to get closer so I can hear what’s going on.” I stood and crept over behind the rotating display of postcards. I could see Naomi and her mother between the wire and paper, and I could hear them, too.
“It’s just that she’s so sick to her stomach in the mornings,” Mrs. Waterman told the pharmacist. “I was hoping there was something you could suggest.” The blue hat Mrs. Waterman wore sat low on her forehead and a dark black pin curl blessed her cheek.
“Mother, keep your voice down,” Naomi said through gritted teeth.
“There’ll be no denying it soon enough. You’ll be showing within a month.” Naomi’s mother snapped at her sullen daughter, then returned her attention to the pharmacist behind the counter.
I hurried back to the girls. “You’re not going to believe this,” I whispered in Tanya’s ear.
“What?” Tanya asked too loud.
“Yeah, what, Debbie?” Josie repeated, and they all leaned forward, a row of inquiring eyes looking at me.
“Naomi is in the family way,” I told them, my face dead serious.
“You’re kidding!” Tanya declared, loud enough to stop Charlie in the middle of making a malted. The pharmacist, Naomi, and her mother also turned their heads our way to see who had yelled out.
Josie elbowed Tanya. “Hush up.”
Tanya slapped her hand over her mouth and turned to see if Naomi was looking at her.
She was.
Tanya turned quick and whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Oh no. Here comes the wrath of Naomi.”
Naomi stormed toward us with her head held high, her shoulders back, all arrogant and pissy. She made a beeline toward Mari.
“Mari, dear, have you heard the news?” Naomi’s voice high and fake.
Mari looked up into the long mirror behind the soda fountain. She met Naomi’s eyes in the glass but didn’t answer her.
“No?” Naomi asked. “Well, let me be the first to tell you. Doug and I are to be married in September. Isn’t that wonderful?” Naomi clapped her hands together, then laid her hand on Mari’s shoulder and squeezed.
Mari cringed.
“He proposed last week. Very romantic. He’s the best. Of course, you know that already.”
It was time for me to put an end to this show. I stood up and went to face off with Naomi. “Why do you think Mari would care about any of this?”
“Well, Debbie, I saw you all over here whispering like silly girls. I assumed you were talking about me. I thought Mari would be the most interested as she and Doug used to be friends.” Naomi smiled.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stuck out my chin. “So, is it true you’re knocked up?”
Naomi stiffened and her face flushed red.
“Because if you are, you won’t be able to wear white for your wedding. Won’t that be a shame?” I cocked my head and raised my eyebrows, waiting for her reaction.
Tanya snickered under her breath and even Mari couldn’t stifle a smile.
Naomi turned red in anger and reached up to slap my face, but I was quicker and I grabbed her by the wrist and shook my head. “Oh no you don’t.”
Naomi jerked her hand away. The staring match continued.
I stood up as straight and tall as I could, pulled the gum out from behind my ear, and popped it in my mouth and began to chew with a fury. Squinting my eyes, I stared into hers. My glare never wavered as I stood there with my shoulders back and my chin out. “You ever try to hit me again, Naomi Waterman, I promise you’ll regret it.”
“Oh yeah? What would you do, you little white-trash rat?” Naomi hovered over me.
I searched my mind for what I might do to Naomi, and came up with no end of ideas. I thought back to times men beat up my mom. Things I wished I hadn’t seen. The bar fights I’d witnessed while being dragged from one sleazy dive to another when I was a kid. Yeah, I’d seen plenty of the underbelly of Rosewood in my short life, and Naomi was one more human disappointment. The kind of disappointment that had made me tough and prepared.
I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out the jackknife I kept there. I showed her just enough for her to see the glint of steel.
Naomi backed away a step. Her hand rose to her mouth. All of the girls fell silent.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Naomi’s mother storming over. I shoved the knife back deep into my pocket.
Mrs. Waterman reached out and grabbed her daughter by the elbow. “Come along. We have errands.” Mrs. Waterman pulled Naomi behind her, and by Naomi’s pale face, i
t appeared she was more than happy to be taken away from the situation.
I sat back down, took my gum out and stuck it back behind my ear, then slurped my melting Black Cow through the red-striped straw. No one said a word for a while.
“Are you okay, Debbie?” Josie asked in a hesitant voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shrugged.
“Would you actually use that knife?” Tanya’s words quivered.
I thought about it for a minute. “I would if I had to.”
And I was pretty sure I meant it.
Chapter 8
Debbie scared the hell out of Gloria. A teenager carrying a jackknife? She tried to imagine the old woman in front of her ready to rumble. Oddly enough, the image came easily. And if this was the woman who gave her up for adoption, Gloria could consider herself fortunate to have been raised by someone else. Karen Larson would never be so bold or easily angered. Yet it couldn’t be denied that Gloria always did have a problem with patience and a bit of temper. She shuddered at the thought, but now wasn’t the time to think about such things.
“Sounds like you and Naomi were archenemies.” The term sounded like something from a cartoon, yet it was apt.
“You could say that.” Debbie eyed Gloria, suspicion hanging heavy on her face. “But the next part of the story seals the deal.”
Debbie took a sip of water, cleared her throat, and continued.
Debbie Remembers the Reception—Fall 1951
The large green lawn, perfectly manicured shrubbery, and whitewashed brick of the sprawling home screamed “We have money! Lots and lots of money!”
A life I couldn’t even imagine living. Although I’d tell anyone who asked I wouldn’t want it, deep inside I guess I wouldn’t have minded trying it on for size.
As I stood at the end of the sidewalk, I tried to figure out how I might be able to get out of going to this wedding reception. There really wasn’t any good reason in the world for Naomi to have invited me or the others except to rub our noses in her money. And to remind Mari she had stolen her guy. It was like crawling into a spider’s web, knowing we would all be wrapped up in silken strands and eaten alive.
Slipping my hand in my dress pocket, I fingered the cold jackknife. It gave me confidence.
Music and voices from the reception lilted over the high white fence of the backyard. Tall wicker vases filled with ferns flanked the garden gate. They were tied with balloons, which bobbled in the breeze. A sign on the gate read Waterman/Talbot Reception.
Unfortunately, I was in the right place.
I trudged up the sidewalk, then paused. Just beyond the closed door, I overheard Naomi.
“We’ll be living in the Grafton house on Sunderland Lane. But only until something more acceptable becomes available to buy.”
I pushed the gate open a crack and saw her visiting with a blue-haired elderly woman who was wearing pearls and a lace-trimmed hat. The putrid scent of the lavender perfume the old woman had obviously bathed in latched on to the breeze and slapped me in the face.
“I see,” the blue-hair said with a raised eyebrow and a look on her face as though she’d caught whiff of a sewage lagoon. “The Grafton house. Hmmm.”
Apparently, the Grafton house was subpar, I thought.
The gate tugged at my hand as a man pulled it open, exposing me to the crowd. Ice and alcohol clinked in his glass. Gin. I could smell it. My mom’s drink. His eyes had a glassy, bloodshot vagueness I recognized too well. He glanced past me. I guess I wasn’t important enough to acknowledge. He staggered by.
Money did not mean good manners. Nothing I didn’t already know.
Naomi turned to me and we locked eyes. Searching past her glare, I sought out my friends. If I’d have gotten off work earlier, we could’ve come together. Showing up alone to a snake pit like this took all the guts I could muster.
A hand grabbed me from behind and pulled me back away from the gate—away from Naomi’s piercing glare.
“Wish I could come in with you, sugar baby.”
I grinned at the sound of Buddy’s comforting voice. I spun around and threw my arms around his neck.
“This is going to stink. I don’t wanna go. Let’s get on your motorcycle and drive away,” I pleaded, enjoying a glimmer of hope that I might not have to endure the stuffy party.
“Debbie! Over here!” Tanya’s voice squealed over the music of the small band as they played, dressed in white sport coats.
I glanced back through the gate and into the crowd, past Naomi’s judgmental stare, the blue-hair’s downturned mouth, and the turquoise waters of a swimming pool. There was the gang, all waving frantically, glad for one more body to fortify their numbers.
Damn. For a moment, I thought I’d be able to blow that pop stand and have a fun afternoon with Buddy.
“Looks like you’re not going to get out of this one so easily.” Buddy’s bottom lip pouted.
I reconnected with Naomi’s glare. Between hugging Buddy and Tanya hollering across the pool, I had created a scene unpleasing to Her High Haughtiness.
Good.
I gave her a grin, leaped into Buddy’s arms, and Frenched him like a woman sending her sailor off to sea. Buddy didn’t shirk his end of the deal. I heard the blue-hair gasp. A round of applause rang out from my friends across the pool.
Breathless, I pulled away, turned back to Naomi, and winked. She glared at me, a sneer on her lips.
“Thanks, Bud. I needed that.” I ran my thumb along the edge of my bottom lip and cleaned up my lipstick.
“Always happy to oblige.” Buddy bowed. “See ya later, sugar baby.” He wore a smudge of my lipstick on his mouth.
I turned to make my entrance into the back yard and sauntered up to Naomi. “I guess I’m supposed to congratulate you or something.” I snatched the gum from behind my ear and popped it in my mouth, put my hand in my pocket, and jiggled the knife. I was feeling full of myself, satisfied everyone there knew I was every bit as wild as the townsfolk rumored me to be.
“I see the old saying is true.” Naomi glared. “You can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear.” She looked down her nose at me, smiled, and raised her eyebrows..
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Naomi. I think you cleaned up okay,” I said, then pointed at her protruding stomach. “Seven… eight months pregnant, and you still wore white.” I shook my head. “Your mother must be so proud.”
Naomi’s face froze, but I didn’t wait long enough for her retort. Doug stood a few steps away. He gave me a smile and a nod as though commending me for a job well done. Maybe he wasn’t as happy about this marriage as Naomi would have liked us to believe.
I would have chatted with him like old times when it was Mari and Doug, but he’d stabbed Mari in the back. No self-respecting friend would do anything but hate him for it. I turned up my nose and held my head high as I passed him by. He knew what he’d done. He’d fallen from our grace. From the looks of the snooty crowd and his bulging bride, he was paying for it, too.
“Debbie, I can’t believe you were making out with Buddy right there at the front gate.” Tanya giggled as I sauntered up.
“That was nuthin’. You shoulda heard what I said to Naomi.” The girls gathered around as I relayed the details.
“Here’s what I want to know,” Josie said, putting her hands on her hips. “Why are we even here?”
“Because we were invited,” Mari answered.
“I know, but why were we invited?” she pushed.
“To rub our noses in… this.” Betty swept her hand out, indicating the garish display of wealth.
Young girls in black dresses and white aprons served hors d’oeuvres. Flowers in hanging baskets decorated the patio around the pool. Tall vases filled with white roses adorned tables covered in white tablecloths, loaded with champagne glasses waiting to be filled.
Every guest—the hangers-on, the wannabes, the social climbers, as well as the big shots and la-de-das of the community—stood around, mumbling quiet
ly about golf scores, theatre, and politics. They all behaved with stiff superiority. Each of them acted as though they were better than everyone else while at the same time, they were wary of making a mistake and being exiled from the clique.
A strange game, this being important and wealthy, I thought. I’d take my Buddy and a motorcycle any day of the week.
“What’s going on over there?” Josie pointed at Naomi, who was whispering in a man’s ear.
“Who is she talking to and why are they staring at us?” Tanya asked, her voice shaking.
“They’re not staring at us. They’re staring at me,” I answered. “And that’s the chief of police.”
He’d been to my mom’s house a few times, breaking up disputes between her and whatever man she’d dragged home.
Naomi and the chief began to walk my way. I swallowed hard and clenched my jaw.
“What’s going on?” Tanya whispered.
Josie put her arm around Tanya. Betty began to step forward, but Mari glided past us all and approached Naomi and the chief.
She extended her hand to take Naomi’s. “Naomi, you look so beautiful today. And this reception is wonderful. Thank you so much for inviting us.”
I watched as Mari tried to run interference, but it took more than a pleasant smile and kind words to stop Naomi’s freight train once it hit the tracks.
The bride hesitated, gave Mari a sickly smile, then stepped around her, her eyes still trained on me.
“Chief Danby, this is the girl I was telling you about.” Naomi pointed at me. “She’s crashed this reception. She was not invited.”
“You liar. I sure as hell wouldn’t come here unless I was invited.” This I hadn’t expected. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I knew things were about to get even worse.
Naomi laughed. “You’re delusional. We would never, ever, associate with someone like you.” Naomi made a face as though she smelled some of the sewer lagoon the blue-hair had caught whiff of earlier. “Chief Danby, I want you to search her. I’ve been told she carries a weapon. I don’t know why she would break into my reception unless her plan was to cause trouble.”
