I added Edgar Zappa to Destiny’s column next. I didn’t know what was going on between the two of them, but I thought there had been something. Were they having an affair? Had it gone bad? After some thought, I put him on Moose’s list as well. Who had more motive to want Moose out of the way than a lover who wanted the woman they both loved all to himself? Even if they’d been just friends, he might have answers to questions Moose didn’t.
Reluctantly, I added Aquanettia to Destiny’s column and wrote “barking dog” and “election” next to her name. And then I put a big old question mark in case Destiny’s dealer was someone else entirely.
I couldn’t think of anyone else who might have wanted to hurt Destiny, and I still couldn’t think of anyone nursing a grudge against me. But that feeling I’d had earlier kept bothering me. I was missing something important. I was almost certain of it.
• • •
Miss Frankie walked through the door to my office at ten on the dot Thursday morning, trailed by a voluptuous sixty-something brunette (surely not her natural color). The hair on both women had been teased and sprayed to withstand hurricane-force winds. Judging from the shiny texture of the second woman’s complexion—visible even under layers of makeup—I suspected that from time to time she indulged in a little Botox. Or a lot. I wasn’t sure her facial muscles could actually move.
Miss Frankie greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, sugar. Pearl Lee, this is Rita, Philippe’s wife. Rita, my cousin, Pearl Lee Gates.”
Was she joking? Pearly Gates?
Pearl Lee noticed my surprise and laughed. I was right. Nothing on her face other than her mouth moved. “It’s a hideous name, isn’t it? Trust me, it’s not mine by choice. I only kept Bobby Lee’s last name so I could cash the alimony checks. Getting your own name back after a divorce isn’t easy. I know. I’ve done it four times already.”
Both women sat across from my desk. Miss Frankie was wearing a sensible sea foam green pantsuit from circa 1974, and low-heeled sandals to match. Her makeup was subtle and understated, as usual. Pearl Lee wore an obviously expensive gray suit with a pink shell and pumps. Her makeup was more dramatic—smoky eyes and bright red lipstick. The cousins could not have been more different.
Pearl Lee looked around my office slowly, bored curiosity clouding her dark eyes. “So. This is it.”
Miss Frankie swatted her knee. “Don’t start, Pearl Lee.” And to me, “She’s been pouting about this all morning, so don’t let her get to you.”
Oh goody! Just what I needed, a surly sexagenarian. This week just kept getting better and better. “If Pearl Lee doesn’t want to do this, maybe you shouldn’t push her,” I said, trying to strike a balance between pleasantly cooperative and “please don’t leave this woman with me.”
Miss Frankie gave me a stern look. “Don’t you start now. I told you why Pearl Lee needs to work here. Everyone in the family agrees that the bailouts have to stop.”
“I’m not a child,” Pearl Lee mumbled.
“Of course not, dear, and this is your chance to prove it. And, Rita, you agreed to hire her.”
“Well, yes, but . . .”
“So here she is.” Miss Frankie stood and settled her handbag in the crook of her arm. She put a hand on Pearl Lee’s shoulder and patted gently. “I’ll be back to pick you up around five. This is for the best. You’ll see.”
Pearl Lee probably felt something about that, but her face didn’t reveal what it was.
Realizing that Miss Frankie planned to leave, I smiled at Pearl Lee and said, “Would you mind waiting out in the reception area for a few minutes? I need to discuss something with Miss Frankie before she goes.”
Pearl Lee uncrossed her legs and rose. “Of course not. I’ll be right outside. Take your time.”
I followed, and shut the door behind her. I wanted to ask Miss Frankie point-blank why she thought she could get away with inviting Edie’s family to the shower after I specifically told her not to, but I knew I’d get more out of her if I used a little finesse.
Returning to my desk, I served up a friendly smile. “So . . . how are the shower preparations coming?”
Miss Frankie beamed and resumed her seat. “I’m having so much fun, sugar. I’ve been looking at decorations and invitations and themes, and I have so many ideas running through my head, I’m having trouble keeping them all straight.”
“Good. I’m so glad to hear it.” I sat back in my chair and tried to look nonchalant. “Have you set a date yet?”
“No, but I’m getting closer to nailing that down. I just need to clear up a couple of tiny details before I make the final decision.”
“Oh? What details are those?”
Miss Frankie wagged a hand at me. “Now, Rita, don’t you worry about that. You said you didn’t want anything to do with planning the shower, so you just leave it all to me. I do need to get addresses from you, though. I’ll be putting the guest list together over the weekend.”
“Oh. Okay. What addresses do you need from me?”
“Home addresses for all the women who work here, and any other friends of Edie’s she might want to invite. I could hand out the staff invitations here, but I think that would be a bit tacky, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said sweetly. “It can’t be any worse than inviting people Edie has specifically said she doesn’t want there.”
Miss Frankie put her handbag on the floor. “I suppose you’re talking about Edie’s mother and sister.”
I had her attention. She couldn’t pretend not to hear me. The door was shut, slowing down any attempts at escape. “I suppose I am. You can’t invite them, Miss Frankie. Edie doesn’t want them there.”
My mother-in-law’s smile dulled ever so slightly. “Edie is being ruled by hormones right now. She doesn’t really know what she wants.”
I was so astonished I fell back in my seat as if someone had shoved me. “I think that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say. Of course she knows what she wants!”
“If that were the case, she’d be first in line to send her mother an invitation.” Miss Frankie gave her shellacked auburn head a firm shake. “I don’t know what the differences are between them, and I don’t care. Family is family.”
“With all due respect, Miss Frankie, it’s not your decision. You can’t force Edie and her mother to reconcile just because you think they should.”
“This isn’t about Edie or her mother.” Miss Frankie’s voice morphed from Southern syrup to solid steel. “This is about that baby. That child is going to need its parents and its grandparents. It’s going to need aunts, uncles, and cousins. Edie and her mother are adults. They ought to be smart enough to put aside their differences and make things work.”
“I don’t disagree,” I said. “I don’t know what would have happened to me without my family after my parents died. But there are other considerations in play here and the fact remains that it’s not your call in Edie’s situation. We agreed that you would plan the shower, but that doesn’t give you license to overrule Edie’s decisions.”
“She’ll thank me later.”
“That’s what you said about Pearl Lee, but if you ask me, you’ll be waiting for both thank-yous for a long, long time.” The words slipped out before I could stop them and I regretted them immediately.
My mother-in-law’s stony expression turned to ice right in front of my eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I sighed, wishing I were better at sugarcoating things. “I’m sorry, Miss Frankie. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but I think you’re butting into things that aren’t any of your business. I doubt Pearl Lee is feeling all that grateful for the job here, and I know Edie doesn’t want help fixing her relationship with her mother. If she did, she’d ask you.”
“Edie wants her baby to grow up estranged from its grandparents?” It was more of a challenge than a question.
“I’m sure she doesn’t want that
. But it’s not up to you or me to take over and try to fix it. She was really upset when she called me last night. It took me nearly half an hour to calm her down.”
To give Miss Frankie her due, I think she looked a little guilty for a second. I can’t be sure, though. The expression was gone before I could really identify it.
“Just promise that you’ll respect her wishes,” I said.
Miss Frankie tweaked the collar of her pantsuit. “I think she’s wrong.”
“Duly noted.”
“That baby needs its grandparents.”
Since it would only have one set, I had to agree. “You’ll get no argument from me. But again, not the issue.”
She stared at me for a long time before she spoke again. “This thing can go both ways, you know. You have to promise me that you won’t let Pearl Lee get away with anything. Keep her busy. She needs it. And for heaven’s sake, don’t let her anywhere near a man.”
I laughed, hoping that meant that things were okay between us. “What am I supposed to do, keep her locked up in my office for eight hours a day?”
Miss Frankie gave me a pointed look. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. I mean it, Rita. Keep an eye on her. She’s a sneaky one.”
Thirteen
For the twentieth time in an hour, I felt a sharp jab in my side followed by Pearl Lee’s rapid-fire prattle as she nudged me, then made an off-color comment about the petunia parts I had her sorting for me. I spent most of the morning dusting the petunias I’d made earlier in the week with blue pearl dust so they’d be ready for the addition of stems and stamens. I say “dusting” but what I really mean is “trying to dust.” I was failing miserably.
Doing anything with Pearl Lee underfoot turned out to be a job slightly more difficult than herding feral cats. No wonder Miss Frankie had handed her off to me. Pearl Lee’s mind flitted from topic to topic without warning, usually landing on something involving men or sex. Or men and sex. She had a throaty laugh and probably would have had an infectious smile under all that dark red lipstick if not for the Botox. If I hadn’t been responsible for her, I might even have found her amusing and eccentric. But I was responsible and she was, literally, a pain in the ribs.
I’d told the staff that Pearl Lee was here to learn some new skills, which was technically true. And anyway, it seemed kinder than telling the absolute truth. Not surprisingly, she bounced from task to task without finishing a single one as evidenced by the teetering stack of half-finished boxes, a roll of stickers with the Zydeco alligator and cake logo that had rolled under a table an hour ago and was still there, and a sink full of bowls that she claimed needed to soak. She’d interrupted me with so many questions I could barely form a thought, and I could tell that she was having the same effect on the rest of the staff. Isabeau had stopped chattering and plugged into a set of headphones so she could tune Pearl Lee out. Sparkle had disappeared with her cell phone twenty minutes earlier, and Estelle had scraped off the leaves she was piping onto the petunia cake three times already. Only Dwight seemed unaffected by Pearl Lee’s constant interruptions.
We had far too much work to do to let her continue distracting us, so I gave up trying to finish the petunias and suggested that Pearl Lee help me pick up supplies. Ox gave my idea an enthusiastic thumbs-up and took over the petunias so I could leave with a clear conscience. Edie pulled together a list of items we needed, and a little after noon Pearl Lee and I set off on foot. Edie’s list included items from both the market and the office supply store. Noting a few perishable items on the market list, I decided to stop there last.
The horrible humidity we’d experienced earlier in the week had faded a bit, so the summer heat was almost bearable. We strolled slowly along the sidewalk, partly because of the temperature and partly because Pearl Lee’s shoes weren’t actually made for walking. I took advantage of the pace to get her version of the events that had landed her in my shop. Maybe if I understood what made her tick, I’d have a better chance of making her time at Zydeco work for everyone.
I decided to start with the basics. “Is this your first visit to New Orleans?” I asked. “Or did you grow up here?”
Pearl Lee had linked her hands behind her back and walked with her face tilted toward the sky. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye and said, “I grew up here, just a hop, skip, and a jump from Frances Mae.”
“Where was that, exactly? I know she grew up in the area, and I know her family owned a lot of land, but that’s about it.”
Pearl Lee tucked one hand under my arm and smiled—I think. It was hard to tell since her face didn’t move. “Uncle Leroy and Aunt Caroline—that’s Frances Mae’s mama and daddy—lived in the old family place out in Vacherie. You ever been out that way?”
I shook my head in answer to her question. “I’ve only lived in New Orleans for a year and Zydeco keeps me pretty busy. I haven’t done much looking around.”
Her dark eyes flashed and I thought she must have been stunning when she was younger. She still would be if her face hadn’t had that plastic quality. “Oh, baby, you should try to get out there. It’s a lovely place. The best part of the whole week was going over to Aunt Caroline’s to play. She had trunks of old clothes up in the attic, and us girls used to dress up and pretend we were belles of the ball.”
Her eyes grew dreamy with memory. “Aunt Caroline Thibodeaux was Mama’s older sister. She married well.” Another facial tick that might have been a smile. “She married real well. The Thibodeauxes had scads more money than us Dumonds. Don’t get me wrong. We had money. But Caroline certainly elevated herself.”
Did I detect a note of bitterness? Envy? Miss Frankie was tight-lipped when it came to her family history. Pearl Lee seemed more willing to share, so why not let her? “Were Caroline and your mother close?”
“Close as sisters can be, I guess. They had their good moments and their bad ones, like any of us. When I was a girl—oh, maybe four or five—the two of them had a falling-out. Didn’t speak for nearly ten years. They patched things up eventually, but it was rough going for a while.”
I was so interested in her story I wasn’t watching where I was going. I hit an uneven patch of sidewalk and nearly lost my balance, but I didn’t let that distract me. “They didn’t speak for ten years?”
“Didn’t speak. Refused even to be in the same room.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Of course, that meant that the rest of us had to tiptoe around to see each other, and Lord help us if Mama found out we’d talked to one of Caroline’s brood. But we did it anyway.” She slipped me a sly look. “The Dumonds are known for doing whatever they want.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said with a grin. I wondered if the rift between her mother and her aunt might explain why Miss Frankie was so concerned about Edie and her mother. “How old was Miss Frankie when they had their disagreement?”
“Well, let’s see. She’s ten years older than me, so she was probably fourteen or thereabouts.”
“Do you know what came between them?”
Pearl Lee shook her head. “No, baby, my parents’ generation didn’t talk about things like that. None of us kids had the foggiest idea. It was something my mama did to upset Aunt Caroline, though. I do know that. The only communication they had in all those years was when Aunt Caroline sent a letter demanding an apology before some big family event. Mama never gave one, but that didn’t stop Aunt Caroline from demanding it.”
I was beginning to think my family was the exception to some rule I’d never heard of. Uncle Nestor and my cousins might fly off the handle from time to time, but if they were angry, they’d make sure you and everyone else around knew why. Sometimes the way they aired everything in front of anyone who wanted to listen filled me with resentment, but I think I’d rather have that than the silent treatment.
“What about your grandparents? Didn’t they step in?”
“I’m sure they tried,” Pearl Lee said. “But my mama was one stubborn woman. She never did listen to them, and
Uncle Ellis—Mama and Aunt Caroline’s big brother—just ignored the whole thing.”
“Then what finally brought them back together?”
“Why, Frances Mae, of course. She was married and a Renier by then, but she came home one day and sat down with each of them. She must have had a real come to Jesus with them. To this day, none of us has any idea what she said, but whatever it was, it worked. Mama wrote a note of apology and everything went back to normal.”
“Just like that?”
“Well, sure. Aunt Caroline had her apology. That’s all she ever wanted.”
I bit back a smile and tried to imagine anyone in my family letting go just like that. Well, no wonder Miss Frankie was so determined to work on Edie and her mother. She’d successfully conducted peace talks before, so why not do it again? But now I worried that the promise I thought I’d extracted from her a few hours earlier had been nothing more than lip service.
In spite of her flighty personality, I found myself enjoying Pearl Lee’s company. Which may or may not have lulled me into a false sense of security.
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened next. We were nearly at the office supply store when the door to Paolo’s Pizza opened and four or five people poured out onto the street. I barely had time to register Edgar Zappa’s sunlit blond hair among them when Pearl Lee impaled me with a razor-sharp elbow and whispered, “Who is that?”
I followed the direction of her gaze and was surprised to realize she wasn’t staring at Edgar but at a man wearing khakis and a Hawaiian print shirt. His hairy legs ended in a worn pair of Birkenstocks, and a ponytail held by half a dozen bands trailed down his back. Going out for pizza the day after Destiny died? That seemed odd to me, but I guess to each his own. If he’d been a woman, his friends would have flooded the house with food and comfort. Maybe guys went for pizza when things got rough.
The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery) Page 11
