by G M Barlean
“So, are you satisfied, Josie? Is this what you were looking for? Or are your moral panties still in a twist?” Naomi’s smart remarks made me want to leap from my chair and strangle her.
“I’m sure Miss Townsend is ready to put this issue behind her,” Principal Berry answered for me. “You can go to your classroom, Miss Townsend. We’re finished here.”
I stared at Naomi with her false eyelashes and smug expression. The principal looked as though he was proud of himself. After all, he’d resolved this nasty situation without scarring his rank in the golf league.
Wouldn’t want to offend friends. Wouldn’t want to piss off such fine members of the community, would you, Mr. Berry? But me… your tried-and-true teacher who works hard for the children in your school… Sure, throw me under the bus. What an ass.
I stood to leave, under the same spell as Douglas Junior, but then turned back. “No, I’m not satisfied. I’m not satisfied at all.” I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t believe a word of what Douglas said, but you’ll be pleased to know I realize there isn’t much I can do about it, and I will butt out. But I will be keeping my eye on your son. And I will always be ready if he asks for my help.”
Naomi stood and so did Mr. Berry. He watched her for his cue, but as Naomi readied to unleash her wrath, Doug Senior appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide and his face pale.
“Doug. What in the world is the matter with you? You look terrible.” Naomi didn’t act worried about her husband so much as irritated by him interrupting the meeting.
“You have to come with me, Naomi,” he said from the doorway. He held on to its frame as if to brace himself for a storm.
Naomi waved him off like a bothersome fly. “I’m busy right now. It will have to wait.”
I could tell by the pallor of Doug’s face something had to be terribly wrong. Why couldn’t Naomi see it? Was she so self-absorbed?
“I have to tell you something important. You have to come with me.” Doug’s voice reminded me of his son’s. He went through the motions, tried to behave, but he knew he’d lost the war a long time ago.
“For crying out loud, Doug, spit it out.” Naomi’s voice reeked of impatience as she tapped her foot and glared at her husband.
Doug didn’t wrestle with the decision long. He gave her what she wanted. “Your father is dead.” He cringed as though he expected to be hit.
The announcement dropped Naomi into her chair as if she’d been physically hit. Every ounce of color drained from her face, leaving only the stains of garish makeup. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she closed it and swallowed hard.
“It can’t be true. I saw him last night. He’s fine.” Naomi’s words sounded absolute, but her eyes filled with tears.
Until that moment, I had never seen Naomi display any emotion other than hate. I thought back to Doug and Naomi’s wedding day and how her father had babied her. Daddy’s little girl, I suspected.
“He had a heart attack. He’s gone, Naomi.” Doug’s voice was hollow.
“What can I do, Doug?” the principal asked.
Doug shook his head.
“Should I go get Douglas Junior?” I asked.
Doug began to reach out to lay his hand on my shoulder. He nodded, but before he could form words, Naomi barked, “Of course not. Leave him in class.” Naomi stood and straightened her skirt. “Do not breathe a word of this to our son,” Naomi told Mr. Berry while ignoring me.
“Whatever you want, Naomi… Doug?”
I could see Doug did not agree with his wife, but he also looked as though he knew better than to argue. The young man I’d once known had turned into a compliant and weak lackey to his wife.
Naomi turned to Mr. Berry. Her mouth moved as though she would speak, but instead, she broke down. She supported herself on his desk, and her shoulders sagged and shook as she sobbed.
I brought my handkerchief out and offered it to Naomi, but she pushed it away. Doug stepped forward to put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She stiffened. Doug drew back.
“I’m sorry. I…” Naomi shook her head in apology at Mr. Berry, then turned to run from the office. Doug followed.
I walked out into the hallway and watched them hurry from the building. I had never thought I’d see the day I felt sympathy for Naomi Talbot, but it had come.
Friday morning, I walked up the long concrete stairs to St. Anthony’s Catholic Church. Since Doug Junior had been a student in my class, I felt it important to go to his grandfather’s funeral. I sure as hell wouldn’t have been there otherwise.
As I neared the top step, I halted at the sight of Naomi as she spoke with a priest in the vestibule. I had never seen her look so human. She wore her hair combed simply and tucked behind her ears, her outfit consisting of a navy suit and low-heeled shoes. The most noticeable part of her appearance—she looked completely unremarkable. So unlike Naomi not to stand out in the crowd. Her drooped shoulders shook and even from a distance, I could tell she had been crying. She wore her exhaustion like a heavy coat.
My heart broke for her. She exuded pain I had felt myself. My grandmother’s passing never strayed far from my memory. Nana had been everything to me—the only parent I’d ever known. No one knew better than I how hard it is to lose the ones we love. As I watched her suffer, I understood no matter how at odds we were, we shared the common bond of humanity.
As I paused on the steps, Tanya arrived at my side.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“They closed the bank so we could all come to the funeral.” She sneered. “Kind of hard to get out of it.”
I suspected being here made Tanya’s skin crawl.
“She looks terrible,” Tanya said as she stared at Naomi. Tanya’s lips were drawn tight—no empathy in her eyes. She had to work with Naomi every day and I knew the bitter taste she swallowed.
“I actually feel sorry for her today. Naomi and her father had a close relationship.”
“I suppose. You remember the wedding? The way her daddy ran to her side when she needed him?”
“I do remember. I wonder if this loss might change her… make her more human?”
“Ha. I doubt that.” Tanya snorted.
I loved Tanya’s honesty, but today, just today, I felt the need to give Naomi the benefit of the doubt. “Well, for now we should probably put our differences aside. It seems as though she’s in genuine pain.”
True, I had only known the ugly side of the woman, but surely there was a little girl in mourning who loved and would miss her father.
We entered the church, passed Naomi, and went into the sanctuary. Taking a seat at the rear, we read the memorial card. Mr. Preston Waterman. Survived by his wife, Edith Kern Waterman, daughter, Naomi Waterman Talbot, son-in-law, Doug Talbot, and grandson, Douglas Talbot Jr. This must have been all the family Mr. Waterman had. Seemed small.
I glanced around. Business associates of his. Wealthy widows—probably friends of Mrs. Waterman. The society types. Employees and a smattering of their kin made up the rest of the crowd. I saw other teachers and faculty, and of course everyone from the bank. Yet the huge cathedral-style room could have easily held several hundred. The sparse crowd of around a hundred or so people gave the massive sanctuary a deserted appearance.
Doug Talbot sat in the front pew with his son and his mother-in-law. They stared forward with solemn, composed faces. I found it interesting to see Doug sitting with Naomi’s mother instead of standing by his wife.
The church bells rang and Naomi walked up the side aisle of the church to take her place in the front row. She sat a good foot away from her husband and he did not put his arm around her.
After the funeral, people filed out of the church in silence, shook hands with the family—Mrs. Waterman, stone-faced, Doug, thanking people for coming, and Doug Junior, downcast. Naomi didn’t offer a hand or comments to anyone. Tears streamed down her nude face, a handkerchief covering her mouth as she quietly sobbed.
People
moved past her, looking down, away from her pain.
As we crept along in the line, Tanya leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “It’s all a show. She wants everyone to look at her. I don’t buy it.”
I elbowed her. I didn’t want to believe it. Not today.
When I shook Doug’s hand, his thank-you sounded sincere.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather, Douglas.” I put my hand on Douglas Junior’s shoulder. The young man avoided my eyes and wore the same apathetic look he’d had in the principal’s office.
Are you even in there?
Neither of us bothered to offer Naomi condolences.
We left through the large open doors of the church and stood at the top of the steps as the remaining people filed out. Cars lined up behind the hearse in a sobering row.
“I don’t think I’ll go to the cemetery, Tanya,” I said.
“I won’t either, Josie,” Tanya agreed. “I’ve done my duty. Besides, I’m having caffeine withdrawal. I need a cup of joe.”
Then we heard raised voices in the church. The last of the people had left the building. Only the family remained.
“You have to go to the cemetery.” We heard Mrs. Waterman’s stern voice. Naomi had inherited her authoritative tone from her mother.
“I do not intend to wait one more minute. I’m going straight to the attorney’s office. I plan to get this will straightened out immediately.” Naomi no longer sounded weepy but spoke in the voice I knew too well—one filled with anger and power. “You have no right to control Daddy’s money. I know he would have wanted me to have my share and to have it now.”
“I’m afraid it simply isn’t true, Naomi.” Mrs. Waterman’s voice sounded tired. “Your father left me in charge of all our assets. I’ll decide when you inherit and how much, not you. This is exactly how we wanted it to be, and for this exact reason—because of your greed.”
“We’ll see about that, Mother. If I have to claim you incompetent, that’s what I’ll do. But no one will deny me what is rightfully mine.” Naomi’s voice echoed with hate.
“Naomi, be reasonable. This is your father’s funeral. Please…”
“Shut up, Doug. You have nothing to say about any of this. Go mourn with the people if that’s what you want… fuss over my mother if you think it makes you look good, but I’m my father’s only child and I will have my inheritance now. There’s no way in hell I’m going to wait until she dies.”
Tanya and I listened as we held our breath. What a thing to worry about on the day of her father’s funeral. So much anger and hate. It sounded as though Mrs. Waterman would have to deal with Naomi contesting her husband’s estate.
Naomi stormed out the doors of the church and down to her red sports car. Doug didn’t follow her to the car, but watched from just beyond the church doors as she got behind the wheel, revved the engine, and sped away.
We stepped back behind a tall ivory pillar to avoid the private moment. Mrs. Waterman came out and stood by Doug, with Junior by her side, acting as indifferent as he always seemed to be. Mrs. Waterman rubbed his shoulder, then hooked her hand in the crook of her son-in-law’s elbow.
“Come along. The lead car is waiting for us.” Mrs. Waterman’s cold, tired words were more of an order than a suggestion. Doug seemed used to being told what to do, and Douglas Junior tagged along beside them.
I exhaled when the small troubled family left the steps of the church. “I can’t believe I was feeling sorry for Naomi.” I shook my head.
Tanya huffed. “Not me. I know exactly who she is. And right now, the person I feel sorry for is her poor mother. It will take a slew of lawyers to keep Naomi from her father’s money.”
Chapter 13
Gloria visited the women at Meadowbrook every Tuesday and Thursday like a nun going to church on Sunday. Josie’s story alone took two weeks to tell. Time spent with these old gals had racked up several months of her life, but they were months she thought of fondly.
Every day, she ran the paper, researching news stories and editing the Rosewood Press. In the evenings, she went for her run and thought through everything the old women told her. As the months went on, the runs lasted longer and went farther as she took time to sort the information out.
The time had finally come to sit down and visit with Mabel. Gloria shouldn’t have put it off so long. She knew she needed to gather more opinions about the incident in ’74, but now she’d gotten to know the women, and something in her felt defensive of them. She didn’t want to hear bad opinions. Then she would have to question the truth of their story, and she would rather believe them to be innocent. But it was time for due diligence, whether she liked it or not.
Mabel sat by the road, extra aluminum chair ready and waiting. Her flabby arms waved and that big smile gleamed from a block away.
“Hey, Mabel.” Gloria jogged up, panting and sweaty. “Want some company?”
“Of course I do. Sit, sit.” Mabel adjusted the chair and Gloria accepted it. “You want something to drink? I’ll go make some tea.” Mabel started to get up.
Gloria shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll hydrate when I get home.”
Mabel laughed. “Hydrate. You young kids.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “So, what’s new? You have a boyfriend yet? Remember, I’d be happy to talk to my nephew Ronnie. He’s a real catch, you know. Works at the bank over in Pilger. You’d like him.”
Gloria knew Mabel worried about her. Said she was too skinny. Worked too hard. And running would give her a heart attack. But Gloria’s lack of a wedding ring was what she suspected kept the old gal up at night.
“Actually, Mabel, I do have something new in my life and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
The old woman became deathly serious. It looked like she was revving up her mothering engines. “Tell me all about it, dear.” Her lips pursed and her eyes widened as she patted Gloria’s arm.
“Well, actually, I hope you’ll have something to tell me. I’ve done a little investigating into an incident that happened back in 1974.”
Gloria barely finished her sentence.
“The Thorns of Rosewood?” Mabel blurted out.
“Yes. Wow. I didn’t expect you to remember it.” Gloria raised an eyebrow.
The look on Mabel’s face soured. “My memory is fine, dear.”
“I didn’t mean your memory was bad… I… Well, it was a long time ago.”
“Oh, we all remember. It was a big deal. Yes, yes. What do you want to know? I know the story like it was yesterday.”
Gloria decided to leave out telling Mabel about talking to the women at Meadowbrook. The ladies had made it clear to her they didn’t want to be found and didn’t want their story to come out until they were dead and buried. Gloria wouldn’t betray them. Plus, she didn’t want to sway Mabel’s ideas.
“Well. I’ve read all the old papers and the facts reported. What I want to know is what did you think about the whole thing? You know, the missing-person case, the accusations, the four women denying any involvement. Those kinds of things.”
Mabel’s eyes widened. “What I thought about the whole thing?” She glowed and her hand fluttered at her chest. “Goodness. Well.” She stammered. “Let me think. I want to get this right.”
Mabel at a loss for words—this was something new.
“Why don’t you start with if you think the four women did any harm to Naomi Talbot. Did they get away with murder?”
Mabel stared at Gloria, then straightened up, a look of determination on her face. “I absolutely do not think they killed Naomi Talbot.” She set her mouth in a tight frown. “And let me tell you why.”
Gloria leaned in so she wouldn’t miss a word.
“I remember when Naomi Waterman came to town.” Mabel shook her head. “She was mean from day one. I was an underclassman to those four women—a freshman when they were seniors. Everyone in school knew all about how Naomi stole Doug Talbot from Mari Brent. And you know what? I’ve lived here m
y whole life. I watched Naomi turn into the town’s queen bossy-pants. And age only made her meaner. That dumb Doug Talbot. Judge or not, he had no control over the woman. She ran around like a…” Mabel paused and leaned forward to whisper, “…like a dog in heat.” She raised her eyebrows. “But that’s not how my dad would have said it. He’d have used the b word for female dog.” She covered her mouth.
“Go on.”
“She was pretty much mean to everyone. Even her rich friends. No one liked her, but it didn’t stop her from reaching the top of society of Rosewood.” Mabel huffed. “For whatever that’s worth.”
Gloria couldn’t argue with Mabel. Of course, she’d never argue with Mabel about anything anyway.
“You want to know what I really think?”
Gloria nodded and held her breath.
“I think someone killed Naomi, all right. But not those women. I think they were goats. Framed. I don’t think it was them at all.” Mabel stared deep into Gloria’s eyes.
“Well, who do you think killed Naomi Waterman Talbot?”
Then Mabel did something Gloria never thought she’d see. She shut up.
“I won’t say. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. Now, I’m tired. Goin’ into the house. Give me my chair.” Mabel stood up and folded up her chair, then motioned Gloria to get her butt out of the other one.
Shocked by the abrupt end to their conversation, Gloria stood. “Mabel, you can’t leave me hanging.” She folded the chair and handed it to the old woman.
“I can and I will. Now, go on home. You’d better not snoop around about all this. Some things are best left alone.” Mabel waved and started to leave, then turned to add, “And don’t forget I’ve got Ronnie on speed dial if you ever decide you’re interested.”
Gloria wouldn’t be.
She turned to go home, more curious than ever about what really happened to Naomi Waterman Talbot.
Chapter 14
Another Tuesday and Gloria walked through the sunroom doors to meet with the women. She saw these women through new eyes now. Mabel’s. Her neighbor had claimed these women to be innocent. It was an opinion Gloria shared. Still, the reporter in her knew only facts mattered.
