Other than the funeral director, no one else had attended Pearl’s quick send-off. Mavis had cried for the lonely old woman she had never met in life and placed the handful of roses inside a coffin that she knew had been used at many showings before Pearl’s. When it was time to bury her, the expensive-looking coffin would be replaced with an old pine box. Sadly, this happened to all the lonely Pearls of the world who had no one to give them a proper send-off.
Clicking her way to her Web site, Mavis was thrilled when she saw she had sixteen orders for her latest designs for Good Mourning, her new line of clothes. After sending Pearl off, Mavis had become obsessed with reading the obits. There were many more like Pearl who had no family, no friends, not a single soul to care how they were laid to rest.
For whatever reason, Mavis had felt compelled to try to change this for as many as she could. She didn’t want to ask Toots for help. She would simply ask how much she needed and write a check. Mavis wanted to do this on her own. That was when she’d come up with the idea to sell her clothes. She began attending large and small funerals, where there were often hundreds of people in attendance. She watched them, saw what they wore, and knew that most of the women’s clothing would be shoved to the back of the closet or donated to charity. Mavis knew Toots had given away her mourning clothes after each of her husbands died. Why couldn’t people keep the clothes they wore for their loved ones’ final send-off, but wear them over and over?
Couldn’t the clothing hold a special memory of those that had passed? They didn’t have to be black and ugly, like most of what she saw when she attended funerals. She knew then what she would do to commemorate the Pearls of the world.
Mavis started spending most of her nights staying up late, sewing her clothes. She’d designed her own label, which read GOOD MOURNING BY MAVIS. She had three styles, three colors, and thirty-six pieces ready for shipping. She started with her own size eight, then added tens, twelves, and fourteens. She had done her homework, discovering that the average-size woman wore a size twelve. From there she’d set up an account with FedEx. They would come to the house and pick up her orders in the boxes they’d provided. She’d also set up an account with PayPal in order to collect payment for her sales. Mavis was still amazed at the Internet. It had truly opened her up to a new world. Without it, she certainly wouldn’t be working on a project that just might turn out to be something more wonderful than she’d ever dreamed. If only Herbert could see her now.
For the next three hours, Mavis packed the FedEx boxes with her designs. She’d been smart to go with average sizes, she thought, as she carefully folded the last size twelve and placed it in tissue paper before stuffing it inside the box. She stuck the addressee label on with all the FedEx info, then placed the box in a large plastic container she would drag to the end of the drive at precisely eight thirty tomorrow morning. She put away all evidence of her new business before going to bed. She was tired, but in a good way.
Mavis was happier than she’d ever imagined.
Chapter 6
It was three in the morning when Toots finally reached Chris on the phone. He agreed to stay at the beach house while they were gone, explaining that an old chum from law school had popped in unexpectedly, so Chris was thrilled when Toots offered him the chance to house-sit. He said his friend from Illinois would be stoked at the thought of hanging out in Malibu.
With that taken care of, Toots e-mailed Bernice with a to-do list. She gave her the details of their chartered flight, telling her she’d hired a limousine service to pick them up from the airport. As usual, Toots, aka LAT Enterprise, would stay in touch with Abby and The Informer through e-mail. Abby wouldn’t be the least bit suspicious, Toots hoped.
At nine o’clock in the morning, they left the beach house to make their ten o’clock charter. Toots was tired but knew she could sleep once she was on the plane.
Mavis took her sewing machine along. None of them could figure out why, but Mavis never asked for much, so allowing her this bit of eccentricity was more than fair. Sophie, never wanting to be left out, brought along her cameras and her EVP, electronic voice phenomena, just in case she decided to hold a séance while in Charleston. Toots took nothing but the clothes on her back because Charleston was her home. She had everything she needed there, and then some. Ida packed four suitcases, each one for a specific item. One for her lingerie. The second held her shoes, the third her toiletries, and the fourth her clothes. Toots had hoped like hell this number and orderly thing wasn’t about to become an OCD issue in another form, but when Toots asked Ida if she could peek inside her luggage, instead of being neat and orderly, her things were tossed in just like anyone else’s would be. Ida was good to go.
They were all quiet on the flight from the West Coast to the other side of the country. Ida read a romance novel; Mavis had several articles of gray clothing in her lap and was stitching away. Sophie chomped on nicotine gum like her life depended on it, and Toots simply enjoyed being surrounded by her three best friends in the entire world. Life was good, she thought before nodding off.
A slight bump jarred them to attention as the jet landed at Charleston International Airport at one in the afternoon. Coco barked at her beauty sleep being interrupted. Mavis let her out of her carrier and kissed the top of her small brown head. “You’re such a good girl,” Mavis said, stuffing her gray material in a large bag one might use for knitting.
“If I don’t smoke soon, I’m gonna die,” Sophie said.
Toots stretched, unfastened her seat belt, then peered out the small window. “You’ll live for ten minutes without a smoke. It’s good to be back home. I’ve missed this old place.”
“How long do you think we’ll be here?” Ida asked as the plane taxied to a stop.
“I’m not sure. However long it takes,” Toots answered. “I have a few business matters to take care of. Then I need to spend some time with Bernice. Poor old gal, she’s been lost without me to order around. Why do you ask? I thought we were all in agreement on this. We’ll stay as long as we want to.”
The plane came to a complete stop on the tarmac. As they waited for the ground crew to secure the plane, they gathered their small bags and Coco’s carrier. They waited for the pilots to unlatch the door leading to a small set of folding metal stairs.
“I was simply asking. I may need to go shopping while I’m here, that’s all,” Ida retorted, her newfound bossiness almost a pleasure. Almost. God forbid she turn into another Sophie.
Toots started speaking before Sophie had a chance to comment. “I can’t wait for you all to see my place again. In the spring, it’s the most beautiful place on earth. The azaleas and camellias are blooming. The night-blooming jasmine smells like heaven. Then, of course, there are the dogwoods, the magnolia trees. It’s my favorite place in the world this time of year,” Toots gushed on. She was so happy to be home, even if it was just for a short period of time. Her gardener, Pete, one of her best male friends, would no doubt, when he learned of her return, have the gardens in tip-top shape. The dead leaves would be trimmed from her two giant angel oaks, and the shrubs clipped to perfection.
“It sounds perfect. Maybe someday we can all go to my home in Maine. While not as lavish as Toots’s plantation home, it’s quite beautiful this time of year. Wild black-eyed Susans, lilies of the valley grow wild. Then there are the daisies. They’re a sight to behold. They grow wild all over the state.” Tears filled Mavis’s eyes. She dabbed at them with her knuckles. “Oh, dear, I think I’m suddenly homesick.”
Toots squeezed her hand. “Anytime you want to go home, just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”
Mavis nodded. “Thank you, Toots. You’re really the best friend a woman could have. I’ll be fine. This talking about Charleston’s beauty reminded me of home, that’s all. I plan to return one day. I’m just not sure when that day will be.”
Sophie was the first to leap off the plane. She practically jogged to the small general aviation airport across the
tarmac, where a large plastic ashtray had been placed next to a cement bench. Toots, Ida, and Mavis, who carried Coco, trailed behind. Toots scrambled through her purse, searching for her cigarettes and lighter. She wanted a cigarette badly but wouldn’t tell that to Sophie if her life depended on it. She wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction. The private jet Toots had been able to charter this time did not allow smoking; none of those that did allow smoking, which she had arranged for on previous trips, were available at such short notice. Sophie had complained like crazy. Toots wasn’t that much of a smoker that she couldn’t go without a cigarette for a few hours—though she would’ve given a hundred bucks for a piece of Sophie’s nicotine gum just to calm her nerves.
The limousine and driver she’d hired were waiting in the general aviation area. The pilots told her they would arrange for the ground crew to have their luggage taken to the limo. All she had to do was fish through her wallet for tip money. She handed the pilot and his copilot each a hundred-dollar bill. She knew they’d been paid handsomely, but a little extra never hurt.
“Thank you,” they both said in unison. The taller of the two, a nice-looking young guy in his early thirties, said, “When you’re ready to return, call me. I’ll try to make sure I’m on the schedule.” He reached inside his wallet for a business card.
“Only if we can smoke,” Toots replied, stuffing the card inside her purse.
Both pilots laughed, the tall one speaking. “We’ll see what we can do.” With that, they made their way to a lounge reserved exclusively for pilots, while Toots lit up outside with Sophie. Ida raced inside to the ladies’ room, and Mavis walked Coco in a grassy area on the side of the building, where two other dogs scampered about, looking for the perfect spot to take care of business.
“Hurry up. I don’t want to keep the limo driver waiting,” Toots said as she dropped her smoke into the plastic ashtray.
“You’ve been gone for months. What’s the rush?” Sophie asked. “Surely you can wait another ten minutes.”
“Oh, zip your lips! Mavis and Ida are waiting.” Toots pointed to the pair waiting just outside the exit.
“Okay, okay!” Sophie said.
When they were all seated inside the limo with their baggage and Mavis’s sewing machine, the driver headed for the interstate. Toots’s home was within a half hour’s drive.
They were subdued on the ride, even Coco, each of the old friends wondering what, if anything, this trip would bring.
Chapter 7
Toots was excited as the limousine driver drove through the wrought-iron gates. Her heart raced with exhilaration as he drove along the winding path leading to her house. Giant oak trees dripping with Spanish moss canopied the short path, and just as she’d envisioned, the gardens were flush with spring’s blooms. The azaleas were every hue of pink under the midday sun; the camellias, red, white, and orange, exploded from verdant stems, like wild arms reaching out from the earth and begging to be touched. The scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the dewy afternoon air. Toots pushed the button to lower the window. She could almost feel the fragrance of her gardens as she closed her eyes, allowing the slight breeze to caress her face. Home. There is truly no place like it, she thought.
“What are you doing?” Sophie asked.
Brought out of her reverie, Toots turned to her friend. “If you must know, I’m reminding myself that I actually live here, surrounded by all of nature’s splendid wonder, and that it’s all mine.”
Chastened for once, Sophie just stared at her.
Mavis broke the silence. “I know just how you feel. Maine in the autumn, I refer to it as Mother Nature waving good-bye. All the reds, yellows, and oranges, so vibrant. But then comes the cold, stark winter, with its ice storms and freezing temperatures. I have to say, the older I get, the less fond I am of Maine’s harsh winters. Something in between would be very nice. A little bit of all the seasons.”
“Yeah, New York sucked in the winter,” Sophie cut in, “and stank in the summer. Always smelled like sour milk.”
Toots eyed Sophie with shock and wonder, her comments never ceasing to amaze her. “Remind me never to visit New York during the summer or winter,” Toots remarked sarcastically.
Before Sophie had a chance to come back with another snide remark, the driver pulled up to the front of the house. Toots sprang from the vehicle like a bird from a cage, running to greet Bernice, who stood on the front porch, her arms open wide. Toots practically fell into them.
Now this is home, she thought, squeezing her dear friend in a tight hug.
“Damn woman! You trying to kill me or what? You found someone out in California to take my place?” Bernice asked, her gravelly voice filled with humor.
“Good God, no! You could never be replaced. Let me look at you,” Toots demanded, then stepped back. Bernice, she observed, hadn’t changed one little bit. Nearing seventy-one, she still had a few good years left. She was petite, with a bit of a hump on her back from osteoporosis, her white hair was cut almost as short as a man’s, and her piercing blue eyes still didn’t miss a thing. Bernice had a heart of gold. She and Toots were closer than most sisters, which made her homecoming even better. Toots had missed her friend much more than her house.
Ida, Sophie, and Mavis, who held Coco close to her chest, waited at the bottom of the steps while Toots gushed over Bernice.
“Stop standing there and staring! Come inside.” Toots motioned, then turned back to Bernice. “I don’t suppose you have any sweet tea with mint? I’m as thirsty as a desert thorn.”
Ida, Sophie, and Mavis followed Toots inside.
“You know damn good and well I do,” Bernice called over her shoulder. “Just because you’ve been living the high life in California doesn’t mean we’ve followed suit here in the South.”
“I’ve been home ten minutes, and you’re starting in already. Bernice, pour us a glass of tea while I tip the driver. He has our luggage stacked by the front door. I’ll be right back.”
Toots raced out the door, grabbing a handful of twenties from her wallet. Outside, she held the wad of money out for the driver. “I’ll double this amount if you bring the luggage and sewing machine inside and take them upstairs.” She counted out five twenties.
Apparently he knew a deal when he saw one. “Just tell me what goes where,” he said, “and I’ll take care of it.”
After the luggage and Mavis’s sewing machine were placed in the appropriate bedrooms, Toots handed the driver a hundred-dollar bill. “Thanks,” she called to his retreating back.
He waved, returned to the limo, and drove away. She stood there watching until his taillights could no longer be seen.
Breathing deeply, Toots drew in the fresh air, the familiar smells and sounds. The chirping of birds, the occasional sound of crickets rubbing their legs together, frogs croaking, sounds she hadn’t realized she’d missed until just then. The sounds of home.
She opened the door and walked down the long hallway leading to the kitchen. It was still her favorite room. Her red cabinets were intact, and her much-loved fireplace still dominated the room. Toots opened the drawer where she always kept a supply of PayDay candy bars and extra cigarettes. Yep, it was fully stocked. Good old Bernice. Maybe. Shoot, she hadn’t checked the pantry.
Before she joined the rest of the gang, who’d moved to the large enclosed patio in the backyard, which overlooked her two angel oaks and a variety of greenery, Toots parted the wooden doors. Yessiree! She counted six extra-large boxes of her favorite cereal, Froot Loops. Mavis would have a hissy fit, but too bad. It was time for Toots to indulge her sweet tooth. She’d had enough healthy meals in Los Angeles to last her a lifetime.
Then Toots joined the group. “I had the driver take our luggage upstairs. I’m ready to relax and catch up.” She reached for the pitcher of tea, poured herself a glass, and reclined in her favorite white wicker rocker.
“Okay, Bernice, you’ve had time to get reacquainted with Abby’s godmothers.
Tell me what’s going on here. Did Dr. Pauley call? He said he wanted to see Mavis, check her blood pressure while we’re here.”
“If he’s like me, then he won’t recognize her. I thought you’d traded her in for a newer model. Damned diet worked a miracle, if you ask me. No telling what Doc’s going to think. He phoned this morning. I told him you’d call.” Bernice laughed. “I can’t wait to see the expression on his face.”
Sophie couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Bernice, if you’d had to live with Mavis for the past several months, you wouldn’t laugh. I’ve never eaten so healthy in my life.”
Bernice smiled at Mavis. “If I could look like her, I’d want to eat whatever she does.”
They all laughed, continuing to relax while Bernice filled them in on the local gossip. What store had the best price on beef. Then there was the new bakery called The Sweetest Things that had opened last Saturday. Bernice told them she had stood in line for two hours, hoping to purchase a dozen of their cupcakes, which supposedly were to die for. What she hadn’t counted on, she explained, was the man in line in front of her, the size of a small house, who had suffered a massive heart attack while waiting in line and died right there on the spot. Bernice wasn’t sure if he’d had heart troubles or what, but after witnessing the man’s death, there was no way in hell she was going to buy even one cupcake from that place. She told them the news traveled fast. The next morning, the place was empty.
“I’ll have to scope the place out,” Toots said. “I need a liberal dose of something sweet.”
Bernice filled their glasses with fresh tea. “I don’t think I would do that if I were you. People are talking. Some say that building is . . . Well, they’re saying it’s haunted. They think the young girl that owns the place is some kind of witch or something. Said she has these weird-looking eyes.” Bernice’s eyes darted from Sophie to Ida, then to Mavis, stopping when they reached Toots. “They say it’s bad luck. I’m guessing the place won’t last the rest of the month.”
Late Edition Page 5
