“Yes.”
“Good girl. How was it?”
I pushed away from Tom’s embrace and padded into the kitchen in search of a vase.
“The usual. Everything said was between the lines. I tell you, Tom, that woman is missing whatever it is that makes a person…human. I don’t want to say she’s missing a soul. Maybe it’s just compassion. But it could be a soul. I’m no scientist.”
Tom winced. “That bad, huh?”
I crumpled. “Shit, Tom. I caved. I promised I’d come home for Christmas!”
Tom grimaced, then chuckled. “I meant to mention this earlier. I may have to break up with you for a short spell around the holidays. You know, so I don’t have to see your mother again. Is that wrong?”
I pursed my lips into a wry grin. “No, Tom. It’s one of the most right things about you.”
***
Lunch at the beach with Tom turned out to be just what I’d needed. The sunshine and music and Tom’s funny charm lifted my spirits and diluted away the poison injected by my mother during our brief phone conversation. The sex didn’t hurt anything, either. We’d made love in my bed, then idled half the afternoon away curled up in the hammock together, watching the clouds shapeshift and change colors with the evening’s approach. We didn’t talk much. The closeness of our bodies had communicated plenty. We hadn’t seen the need to spoil it with words.
After Tom left, I went out on the backyard to gather up the pillows we’d carried out to the hammock. I saw Laverne sitting alone on her porch, staring out at the water. I waved, but she didn’t respond. It dawned on me that she might not have had anyone to celebrate Mother’s Day with. I went inside, grabbed half the daisies Tom had given me, and knocked on her front door.
She didn’t answer. I knocked again, louder. God! I hope nothing’s happened to her!
Relief rushed through me when she cracked open the door. Even the sight of Laverne’s skinny, geriatric body in a skimpy pink nightgown didn’t dampen the comfort that had washed over me when I’d realized she was okay.
“Well howdy, neighbor!” she beamed.
“Hi Laverne! Here, these are for you.” I handed her the flowers.
“That’s mighty sweet of you, sugar. Have you had a good day?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Well, come on in.” Laverne waddled over to her kitchen. “Did you call your mom, sugar?”
“Yes.”
“That’s nice. Want some tea?”
“Sure.”
I took a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter. Laverne put the flowers in a vase and set them in front of me. She flashed her perfect, denture smile.
“These are gorgeous, honey!”
“I’m glad you like them. Hey, I’ve never asked, but do you have any kids, Laverne?”
Laverne filled two glasses with ice. “Nope. Never had any kids of my own. A pregnant showgirl was no showgirl at all.”
She turned and opened the fridge. I knew what came next. I did a one-eighty on my stool to avoid the oncoming peep show.
“So what did you do today?” I asked, and looked around room.
“Well, I went by the school and picked up my latest sculpture from class. Wanna see it?”
“Sure.”
“There it is.”
I turned around and followed the line of Laverne’s long, manicured finger to the end of the countertop. Sitting in the middle of what appeared to be a red ashtray was a wrinkly little, round-bodied creature that looked like a golden raisin with human-like arms and legs.
“What do you think? I call it Mister E.”
“Well, Laverne, you’re improving. It almost looks human.”
Laverne burst out laughing. “Ha ha! That’s wonderful, honey! I’m glad you feel close enough to me to be that honest.”
The word “honest” stuck in my craw. “That’s weird you should say that. Tom told me he wants us to be completely honest with each other. No secrets. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Have you ever tried it?”
“Honestly?”
Laverne shook her horsey head. “No, honesty.”
I bit my lip. “No, not complete honesty.”
“Me either, honey. Maybe that’s why we’re single.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re still alive.”
Laverne chuckled and raised her glass of tea in a salute. “You could be right there, sugar.”
“But honestly, Laverne, if we told the truth all the time, could any of us stand each other? And honesty in a relationship with a man? With their fragile egos? It’s just not worth it.”
“No man’s ever going to be worthy of you, Val.”
I looked up from my tea glass, surprised by her words. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it as a compliment. You’re not a prize to be earned, sugar. Whether a guy’s an honest man or a bald-faced liar isn’t the point. Any man can pretend to be something he’s not for a good span of time. A lifetime, even. If he pretends to be something else to make you happy, does that make him a bad guy?”
I had to think about it. “I don’t know.”
“Honest or dishonest, ‘happily ever after’ is never guaranteed.”
“So what should you look for in a man, Laverne?”
Laverne set down her glass of tea and looked me in the eye.
“Someone you’re drawn to, sugar. Someone you think about. You want to be with him, no matter what. Even after the love flames have died down to embers.”
“I get it, Laverne.” I looked over at Mister E. “Like they say, find someone you could imagine being as old and wrinkled as that poor little raisin guy over there, and you’d still want to be by his side, laughing together and holding hands.”
“Well, not exactly. Reverse it. Find someone you could imagine would stay by your side when you’re the one old and wrinkled as a raisin and smelling like last night’s doggy dinner.”
The truth of Laverne’s words made me sit up straight on the stool. “Wow. Have you ever found someone like that?”
“Yes, honey. Yes I did. I let go of his hand three years ago. His name was Edgar.”
Laverne went over to a bookshelf and returned with a framed photo. She handed it to me. It had to have been taken not long before Edgar passed, because Laverne still looked just the same. Edgar, however, was frail and wrinkly and the spitting image of the little ceramic raisin man, Mister E.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was Monday morning, and I was back at work at Griffith & Maas, along with Milly, Mrs. Barnes, and all the other poor working slobs of the world. I finished hauling around a small mountain of files and decided to take a peek in and see how Milly was faring.
“What’s up?”
Milly looked up from her computer. “I’m still alive. I guess that’s something.”
I smiled. Milly sounded more like herself.
“I’m glad you’re –”
“Here you go,’” Mrs. Barnes interrupted. The skunk-haired old lady sashayed into Milly’s office and dropped a small plastic cup with a lid onto Milly’s desk.
Milly glanced at the cup, then up at Mrs. Barnes’ smug face. “What’s this?”
“New policy. Random drug test.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! I’ve been working here twenty-three years and you’re going to test me, today?”
An evil grin crept across the old woman’s pinched face. “There’s nothing to worry about if you have nothing to hide.”
“Why now?”
Mrs. Barned folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin as she spoke. “You girls have been acting peculiar. I called Mr. Maas. He thought it was best.”
Milly pursed her lips, stood up and grabbed the cup. She blew by me and headed down the hall, Mrs. Barnes two steps behind her. Milly turned on her heels. “You’re not going to watch me are you?”
Mrs. Barnes’ smug face skipped a beat. “Oh. No. Just drop it at my desk.” The old woman toddled down the hall. I fo
llowed Milly into the restroom and grabbed her by the arm.
“Oh shit, Milly!”
“What?”
“You can’t take that test.”
“Why?”
“The brownies.”
“What?”
“Cold Cuts’ special brownies.”
Milly’s eyes doubled in size. “Aw shit!”
She clenched her teeth, brushed by me and disappeared out the bathroom door. I followed, hot on her heels. Milly flung the cup down the hall as she marched back to her office. “I’m not a lousy lab rat! I’m not a freaking animal!” she muttered as she grabbed her purse and stormed out of her office. “I am not going down in flames, Val.”
Milly stomped past Mrs. Barnes and out the front door. I couldn’t see my friend’s face, but it must have been bad. It made Mrs. Barnes swallow hard. Twice.
I ran to the file room, grabbed my things and dashed out into the parking lot. Milly was in her Beemer, a second away from bursting into tears. I climbed into the passenger seat beside her.
“Are you okay?”
“No I’m not okay!” Milly screeched. “Thanks to Cold Cuts, I can’t go back to my favorite restaurant. I can’t go back to my networking group, and now I can’t go back to my job! What’s that psychopath going to do next? Burn down my apartment?”
Milly rolled down the window and screamed at the world. “I hope you’re happy, you bitch! You just totally ruined my life!”
I hugged Milly and sat with her until she calmed down enough to breathe normally again.
“Let’s get out of here, Milly. I know just where to go. Follow me.”
***
“A pizza joint? That’s supposed to make me forget my life is going down the drain?”
“Hey, you have to start somewhere.”
I smiled at Milly. “They have wine.”
Milly sighed. “Okay. What the hell. Thanks to Cold Cuts, I have nothing else to do.”
I opened the door to Old Northeast Pizza and let Milly in ahead of me. She looked around at the place and eyed me suspiciously. “I don’t see any wine. Is this a trap?”
Her words caused a stampede of guilt to trample my heart. In a way, it was a trap. And to mix metaphors, I’d selfishly brought her here in the hopes of catching two birds by beating around the same bush. I replied with the only line of truth I had left.
“Oh, crap. I forgot they didn’t have wine, Milly. But they’ve got the best pizza you’ll ever eat. Melted cheese is almost as good as wine, right?”
“Hardly.”
“Two cheese specials, please,” I said to the tattooed pizza baker before Milly could change her mind and bolt. I lowered my voice a notch and asked the young man, “Seen any of those weird guys around here lately?”
“Actually, yeah,” he replied and pointed toward the front door. “Over there.”
I turned to see Capone fishing through the trash. He crammed a crust in his mouth.
“Pick what you want to drink out of the cooler, Milly!” I said with too much enthusiasm. “I’ll be right back. Forgot something in the car.”
I bolted outside and grabbed Capone by the shoulder. He wheeled around and gave me a hard look that softened when he realized it was me. He smiled and fished a bottle cap out of his mouth, tossed it, then reached out to shake my hand.
“Hey, Finger Lady.”
“Hi, Capone. Look, I need your help again.”
“I hat’n found no more body parts, if that’s what you mean.”
“No. Listen, you cleaned out a woman’s RV a couple of weeks ago. Did you find a Mr. Peanut piggybank when you did?”
Capone eyed me. “Is there money in it?”
“No, it’s got my mom’s ashes in it.”
“Huh? No. I mean money like a reward. I need ten bucks for the information.”
“Last time it was five.”
“Inflation.”
“Okay. I’ll go get my purse.”
I ran back inside. Milly was waiting for me. Her diet Coke wasn’t cutting it. “Who’s that you’re talking to?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
I ran back out and handed Capone a tenner. That got the human vending machine talking.
“Yep,” he said. “I found one.”
Relief flooded through me. “Awesome! Capone, I need it back. Where is it? Can you go get it?”
“Hold your horses. I done sold it to a guy. That’s why can’t give it to you today. Come back tomorrow with fifty bucks and it’s yours.”
My gut flopped. I didn’t have much choice. “Okay.”
“Shake on it?” he asked, and held out a grubby paw.
“That’s okay. I trust you.”
I went back inside the pizza place. Milly was chomping on a slice. She wiped her face and spoke with her mouth full.
“So, who was that?”
“Cold Cuts’ cousin. Capone.”
Milly lost it. “Dammit all to hell, Val! Can’t I escape that woman for one second?”
Before I could stop her, Milly bolted outside. She swung her purse at Capone, but missed. He took off with her in hot pursuit. Fortunately, whatever obscenities she screamed at him were unintelligible through the glass. I ran outside. Milly had Capone cornered against a wall. I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away.
“That woman’s crazy!” Capone shouted.
“I’m crazy?” Milly screamed.
“Sorry, Capone,” I said.
Milly looked at me like I was from Mars. “Sorry, Capone?”
Capone took his chance and skittered off with one parting shot. “Crazy old bat!”
Milly jerked her shoulder away of my hand and glared at me.
Great. Now that she’s all buttered up, all I have left to do is convince Milly to meet me and Cold Cuts for coffee tomorrow morning.
Easy-peasy.
***
I found a place that served wine. The pizza guy suggested it. It was right next door. Old Northeast Tavern. Just like the pizza place, the interior of the tavern was spectacularly uninspiring. Kind of like a garage someone had hobbled into a restaurant with spare parts. However, it had one good feature. It was dark. That would make it harder for my face to end up on the wrong end of Milly’s right hook.
I waited until she was almost through her second chardonnay. I couldn’t think of an easy way to lay it on Milly, so I just said it plain and simple.
“Cold Cuts wants to meet with us tomorrow morning.”
Milly nearly spewed her wine. “Are you kidding? No way! Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I have to work….” Milly caught herself. The tendons in her neck stood out. “Forget it.”
“But she wants to help you find a new breakfast place. To make up for your old place, the Omulette.”
Milly eyed me with suspicious malevolence. “And you told her yes?”
I shrugged my shoulders together to make myself a smaller target. “Just one cup of coffee, Milly. What’s the harm?”
“That’s true,” Milly quipped sarcastically. “What’s the harm? There’s nothing else she can steal from me except my car. And I owe more on it than it’s worth.” Milly drained her glass and shot me an angry, confused look. She shook her head. “What do you see in her, anyway Val?”
It was a valid question. One to which I didn’t have a clear answer. “I dunno. She’s just got something…some kind of power of persuasion. What do you call it? Charisma?”
“More like kryptonite. Val, that woman was able to destroy my life in a single week. She’s done a number on yours, too. She doesn’t have your mom’s ashes, Val. Capone does. You don’t need her anymore. Let’s cut her lose. Take our losses. I’m not wasting another minute with her. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be looking for a new job.”
“But what about what Cold Cuts said, Milly. About being your own boss. Haven’t you ever thought about it?”
Milly scowled. “Sure, I guess. I know I can’t count on Mr. Maas to live forever. But I figured I still had some time to fig
ure things out, you know? Cold Cuts put an end to that, too. Thank god you were around when Mrs. Barnes came in my office today. If I’d taken that drug test and failed, Val, not only would I have been fired, but no one else would have ever hired me again.”
“I’m sure you can get a similar job, Milly. And get your life back like it was in no time.”
“But that’s just it, Val. Cold Cuts made me feel like the life I had wasn’t worth keeping. She thought I should be glad – grateful even – that she’d freed me from my pathetic little existence.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it? I mean, I’m a freaking accounting clerk. Unmarried. And I’m rapidly approaching my expiration date in the boardroom and in the bedroom.”
“Milly, the girl lives in an RV and dresses up like other people to escape her boring life. You call that a bright future?”
Milly sighed. “No, I guess not.”
“She told me she’s doing that mousy woman’s makeover today.”
Milly sat up straighter. “Nora? The one that won the contest?”
“Yeah.”
“Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to get that woman to speak at the Ladies Leadership brunch for two years. She owns a law firm, you know.
“So?”
“It’s just not fair! Cold Cuts walks in with her zebra boots and stupid contest and the woman spills her guts like a cheap piñata!”
“You’ve got to admit, when it comes to people, that girl’s got some kind of special charm.”
Milly scowled and turned her nose up. “Most charlatans do.”
“Oh, come on, Milly. Let Cold Cuts do something nice for you. Go to breakfast. At this point, what have you got to lose?”
“Only my dignity. No thanks.”
“Please?”
“No, Val. You can’t make me.”
“Sure I can. With just two words.”
“Lucille Jolly? I don’t think so. Not this time.”
“Merkin Jerk.”
Milly’s eyes did that scary-movie doll impersonation again. “You wouldn’t!”
I smiled slyly. “Wouldn’t I?”
***
I don’t know if it was the wine or all the drama with Milly or a combination of both, but I was exhausted. By 7:30 p.m. I’d already had a bath and was ready to crash. There was just one more thing I needed to do before I could pull the shades, click on Netflunks and start sawing some logs. I picked up the phone and punched lucky #7.
Three Dumb: Wheelin' & Dealin' (A Val & Pals Humorous Mystery Book 3) Page 15
