Lilac Avenue

by Pamela Grandstaff

  Stuart thanked the assembled for coming. He said how sorry he was to his good friends Knox and Richard, and their families, for the loss of their beloved Aunt Mary Margaret. He then went on to extol the virtues of the Rodefeffer family, and to trace their history in Rose Hill from the time Gustav left Germany until the present day. He glorified the glass factory and all the local people it employed. He did not mention anything unsavory, or embarrassing, and he did not claim virtues for Mamie that she did not possess. In fact, he barely mentioned her. Scott quickly perceived that, instead of a eulogy, this was a speech in support of his old friend and partner in crime, Knox Rodefeffer. He was reminding the people in the room who Knox was, why he was important, why he deserved their respect, and why he would always be better than they were.

  At the very end he came close to mentioning Mamie by saying, “The last of the old guard has now passed away, leaving the young to continue the family legacy.”

  ‘Legacy of what?’ Scott wondered. ‘Lies and manipulation? Coercion and victimization? Blackmail? Murder?’

  Before Stuart stepped down, he mentioned that the reception was for family only, which Scott took to mean that he and the rest of the peasants were not welcome. Stuart shook Knox’s hand, ignored Trick, and went to stand next to his wife, Peg, who had remained by the doorway. The organ music then swelled majestically as the hired pallbearers lifted Mamie’s casket and took it out the side door to the waiting hearse.

  A strange, strangled noise arose from the front row, and Scott craned his neck just in time to see Trick vomit right onto Marigold’s lap. Marigold shrieked. Peg ran forward, and then held a hand over her nose. Stuart ran out and returned with a roll of paper towels, and then helped Knox remove his brother to the outer hallway. Peg took a wailing Marigold to what Scott assumed would be the nearest restroom. That left former sisters-in-law Anne Marie and Sandy alone in the front row. After an awkward pause, they shared a hug and cheek kiss where no flesh actually made contact, and then both fled the room.

  Scott waited until everyone had vacated the room before he left, not wanting to speak with anyone, or maybe not trusting himself to speak with anyone, lest he say something he would regret. The room was filled with a multitude of arrangements of lilies, the perfume of which was so strong that Scott felt the drumbeat of an approaching migraine in his head. He left the funeral home, went back to the station, retrieved a prescription bottle of pills from his desk drawer, and took a migraine pill.

  After Claire left Maggie and Hannah at Starlina’s, she had to drive faster than was legal to make it back to the Inn by three o’clock. At the entrance to town there was a traffic jam near the funeral home. There were so many cars at Machalvie’s Funeral Home that they were parked all the way up and down Rose Hill Avenue and Peony Street. Claire wished she could go to the funeral, if only to observe Knox’s ex-wives at close range.

  When she reached the Inn, there was a bus parked out in front, with multiple people disembarking. Claire parked around back and hurried in through the kitchen. There was a new clerk on duty at the Inn, and as she didn’t know Claire, she was not predisposed to do her any favors. She did however, let Claire stow her handbag under the front desk.

  “I’m a little busy,” the woman said pointedly, which was true.

  Guests for the weekend seminar were checking in, and Claire listened in on their conversations as they waited to be assisted. They were all middle-aged to senior-aged women, and there was a giddy, expectant atmosphere among them.

  “This is my first seminar with Anne Marie,” she heard one say. “My husband is not happy about me being here, but I told him it’s my money and if I want to spend it this way, I can and I will.”

  “I only have to do two more seminars before I receive my life coach accreditation,” another said. “Anne Marie thinks I have a real gift for it.”

  “Does everyone get a reading?” another asked. “I’m really hoping to speak to my mother; she passed last year very suddenly, and we didn’t get the closure we needed.”

  Claire sidled around to the back of the crowd and watched out the front window as Jeremy, with his white suit, white hair and bright white teeth, greeted some guests on the front porch. His demeanor was that of a kindly preacher as he pressed their hands between his and beamed at them.

  A woman dressed all in flowing white approached Claire and beamed at her.

  “Are you here for the seminar?” she said, in a melodious manner.

  Her hologram heart badge had the name “Joy Heartsong” on it.

  “No,” Claire said, and introduced herself. “Actually I’m working for Anne Marie.”

  The woman’s demeanor immediately changed, and a hard light appeared in her eyes.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said. “If you worked for Anne Marie, I would know about it. Why are you really here?”

  “No, seriously,” Claire said, amused by Joy’s quick change from light and love to fierce she-wolf. “Ask Jeremy; he’ll tell you.”

  “I certainly will,” Joy said, and marched herself right out front to interrupt Jeremy, who was speaking to a seminar attendee.

  Claire watched as Jeremy politely excused himself from the person with whom he was so rudely interrupted, and saw the harassed, irritated look on his face as he took the woman dressed in white aside to speak with her. Joy Heartsong was more than a little irritated; she was almost in tears. Claire wondered what the drama was all about, but was not that interested. This was a temp job at best.

  Claire’s phone twinkled. It was a text from Carlyle.

  “ETA Fri @ 7 pm” it read.

  Claire texted back, “Can’t wait.”

  When she looked back up, Jeremy was entering the front room with Joy in tow. Joy’s mouth was set in a hard line, and her face was flushed. Claire then noticed other women dressed as Joy was, in flowing white, meandering among the crowd, talking to the attendees. They were all positively beaming, which made Joy’s unhappiness all the more apparent. Jeremy gestured to Claire to follow them, so Claire followed them back into the breakfast nook where she had worked earlier. Now it was filled with more women in white, processing paperwork and talking on cell phones with laptops open in front of each of them. There seemed to be stations set up that each attendee had to pass through in order to get checked into the seminar. The room was loud with the voices of many women.

  As they passed one table, Claire heard an attendee ask, “Why do I have to sign this? I’m not comfortable signing anything like this without my attorney reading it.”

  The woman in white responded in a kind, mellifluous tone, “It’s just something the insurance company requires. I completely understand if you don’t want to sign it, but you can’t attend without signing it, and I’m not authorized to let you take it away. There are other people waiting, so you need to decide now.”

  Claire could see the attendee debating signing the form. Probably in her work life this woman would never in a million years sign something like that, multiple pages all written in legalese, without having an attorney review it first. She was trapped, in a way, so far from home, in a line of impatient people all apparently willing to sign immediately, without hesitation.

  “I don’t think Anne Marie would ever do anything to hurt anyone,” the woman behind her in line said. “She’s like an angel walking here on earth.”

  “Oh, what the hell,” the woman finally said, and was taking the pen from the woman in white as Claire followed Jeremy and Joy into the kitchen.

  “Okay, Joy, this is Claire, Claire this is Joy,” Jeremy said.

  Gone was the kindly preacher demeanor and the thousand-watt smile. In its place was a lined forehead and shadows under his eyes. Under his minty fresh breath Claire thought she could detect a hint of something decidedly more alcoholic.

  “I apologize that you weren’t informed of the change in staff,” he said to Joy. “Things happen fast sometimes, as you are well aware, and Claire just started yesterday.”

  “I am to b
e informed of any changes in staffing,” Joy said, and she was so upset Claire thought she might even cry. “She does this all the time, Jeremy, and I’m just about to the end of my rope.”

  “I understand,” Jeremy said. “Believe me, I get it, I do. But here we are. Claire’s setting up a spa in the basement, and I found out about it while you were literally in the air yesterday. Things have been crazy, as usual.”

  “Have you been through orientation?” she asked Claire, who shook her head.

  “Have you signed any paperwork?” she asked, and Claire again shook her head.

  Joy wiped her face with both her hands, and Claire reflected that it was a good thing she wasn’t wearing any makeup, or it would be all over her face. Joy also had deep shadows under her eyes, and her face sagged with what looked like profound weariness.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she said to Jeremy.

  She looked at Claire as if she were a criminal. She pointed her finger right into Claire’s face and her facial expression was full of pure contempt.

  “Before this day is over,” Joy said slowly, as if Claire were simple. “You must find me and ask me for your new hire paperwork. Do you understand?”

  Claire nodded.

  “She’s not covered by the insurance,” Joy said to Jeremy. “And neither will the spa staff be until they sign the new hire paperwork.”

  “I know,” Jeremy said.

  “She cannot attend the seminar without paperwork,” Joy said. “And without orientation she won’t know what to do when one of them passes out or freaks out.”

  “She won’t be attending the seminar,” Jeremy said. “She’ll be in the basement.”

  Joy threw up her hands, turned and left the kitchen, stomping her feet as she went. Jeremy rolled his eyes and winked at Claire.

  “Welcome aboard, kid,” he said. “Every teapot has a tempest, and that was the head teapot.”

  “I guess so,” Claire said. “How many people are attending this thing?”

  “Last count was seventy-four,” Jeremy said. “We expect 26 more by tomorrow morning.”

  “Where will they all sleep?” Claire asked. “I didn’t think the Inn was that big.”

  “They’re doubling up,” Jeremy said. “They don’t mind it; it’s like a slumber party for them.”

  Claire thought she detected a little condescension in his tone, but she let it pass. Claire herself was known to use that tone when she referred to Sloan Merryweather’s fans. Working for Anne Marie was turning out to be a lot like that.

  “Well, back to work,” Jeremy said.

  Claire checked her watch and then called the delivery company. The person she finally spoke to, after she navigated a labyrinth of questions with numeric answers, assured her that the packages were out for delivery. Claire walked around the back of the Inn in order to avoid the crush of attendees. Out on the driveway next to a side porch some Inn staff members were smoking cigarettes. They knew Claire.

  “Who are these people?” one asked. “They’re like witches or something, right?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Claire said. “More like meditation and positive thoughts.”

  Claire spotted the delivery van and sprinted off the side porch to meet it in the circular front drive. She waved the driver over to park next to the side entrance, and fetched her hand cart from the basement. Once again she ticked each package off the list as he unloaded it, and then she signed for them all. It took her four trips to get them all into the basement, and then she began opening and unpacking them. Thankfully there was no breakage among the bottles of massage oils.

  Claire dragged a laundry folding table over to the bottom of the stairway and covered it with a clean white tablecloth. This would be the spa check-in desk. She stacked freshly laundered white hand towels on the table and lined up some massage oils and bath salts to sell.

  “A cash box,” she said out loud. “I need a cash box.”

  She added that to her list, and wondered what else she had forgotten.

  She filled the commercial washing machines with the first load of white sheets and added some washing powder. If she could snag them out of the dryer fast enough, maybe she wouldn’t have to iron them all.

  “Clothes pins,” she said, and added that item to her list.

  She called Sonny, who said he would bring all the clothes pins he had, plus a cash box.

  Claire unpacked the rest of the boxes and made organized piles of all the supplies. She wrestled with one of the massage tables for several minutes before she realized she had put one piece on backward. As soon as she got that corrected the table assembled pretty easily. The other seven would surely be much easier after the first.

  Eventually, Sonny showed up with what looked like a million pieces of white PVC pipe. Claire was worried until she saw how fast he assembled the first “tent” scaffolding. They were so light that Claire was able to move them around in several configurations until she had them all where she wanted them. She put the sheets in the dryers, and then rolled out the white rugs she had purchased for the floors of the tents. After Sonny finished putting together the scaffolding he started assembling the remaining massage tables.

  “I wasn’t sure you knew what you were doing,” Sonny said. “But it sure looks like you do.”

  “Thanks,” Claire said.

  Claire’s phone rang, and it was Dreama at Starlina’s Bridal, letting her know the dresses were ready.

  “Thanks,” Claire said. “I’ll pick them up before you close today.”

  “You got a lot going on,” Sonny said. “Anything else I can do to help?”

  Claire gave him some cash and asked him to go to the bank to get change.

  “Glad to help out,” Sonny said. “This is darn interesting. I’ve never been in a spa before.”

  Claire was breaking down the empty boxes and stacking them near the back door when the dryer buzzers began to go off. She hurriedly removed the sheets from each dryer and pinned them to the clothes lines in the laundry room. She thought they probably looked good enough that she wouldn’t have to iron them, and for that she was glad. Ironing that many sheets would take all night. With a seam ripper she had borrowed from her mother, she picked open the end seams of the wide top hem of all the sheets in order to make long drapery-like pockets.

  She then stood on a step stool, pulled the top pipe away from the corner connector, and slid the sheet hem down the pipe, just as if it were a curtain rod. Once she re-affixed the pipe into its corner connector, the sheet hung to exactly the right length, just brushing the floor. Once all four sheet walls were in place she drew back the front piece and draped it to the side, affixing it with a clothes pin. She centered the rug, dragged the massage table in, and sat it up on the rug. She used a folding chair as a makeshift table for the supplies each masseuse would need.

  Claire was just starting the third tent when Sonny returned with money for the cash box. He helped her set up the others. By the time they finished the eighth tent Claire was damp with perspiration and her arms were sore. Her stomach was still a little queasy and she realized she hadn’t eaten in a long time. She found a box of soda crackers in the kitchen supply closet and ate a few, just enough to settle her stomach.

  “You nervous?” Sonny asked her.

  “Yes,” she said, but she wasn’t sure what she was more nervous about, the spa, the wedding, or the fact that within twenty-four hours she would see Carlyle. She was very glad she had undergone her morning of beauty recently. There would be nothing worse than having scratchy legs and a mustache when reuniting with the love of your life.

  Claire showed Sonny how she wanted the spotlights to be affixed. He helped her run the extension cords and tape them in place.

  “You think the fuse box can handle this?” she asked him.

  Sonny examined the fuse box and pronounced it adequate.

  Once everything was set up, Claire was pleased with how it looked. There were enough rugs scattered about that no one ha
d to walk on concrete, and the white tents and soft lights helped alleviate the industrial green wall color that could still be seen. She turned off the fluorescent overhead lights and the whole basement was transformed into an angelic gypsy encampment.

  “How’d you learn to do this?” Sonny asked.

  “I’ve never done it before,” Claire said. “I just pictured it in my head and figured out what would work.”

  Sonny took some cell phone photos, and then one of him and Claire posed in front of one of the tents. She thanked him as he left.

  “Be sure to put your labor charges on that credit card bill as well,” she said.

  “That Anne Marie’s credit card?” he asked.

  Claire nodded.

  “Then I sure will,” he said.

  Claire was still breaking down boxes for the recycle bin when Jeremy and Anne Marie came downstairs. Anne Marie looked everything over with a critical eye.

  “You’ve certainly been busy,” Jeremy said. “It looks great.”

  “It will have to do, I guess,” Anne Marie said.

  Claire felt her blood boil up at the marked lack of enthusiasm.

  “I only had twenty-four hours,” Claire said. “I think it’s fine.”

  “My standards are well beyond fine,” Anne Marie said. “I hope the massage therapists are good, at least, to make up for the surroundings.”

  Claire’s temper flared, but she checked herself.

  “I’m sure they’ll be wonderful,” Jeremy said in his sweet minister voice, seeking to calm troubled waters. “You did a great job in record time, Claire, considering what you had to work with.”

  “I think it shows a distinct lack of imagination,” Anne Marie said. “When I think of what I envisioned and then see what you produced, well, frankly, I’m terribly disappointed. I expected more from you, Claire.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t like it,” Claire said steadily, but her voice trembled.

  “It’s fine,” Jeremy said. “Really, Claire, it’s just fine.”

  “I think Claire, that I’ll need to rethink my plans to put you in charge of the spa,” Anne Marie said. “I certainly hope the services my people receive are above par.”