Dancing With The Dead

by Nancy McGovern

  “I’m calling Jacob to find out what’s happening,” Harvey said.

  There was no need. Jacob came storming down the stairs, his face red and his fists clenched. Immediately, he walked to the fireplace where Nora recognized Lucas, his hair slicked back and each of his arms around a different girl. Lowering his face so that his forehead was nearly pressed against Lucas’, Jacob began saying something to him, his features contorted with anger. There was a clatter of feet as Grace came rushing down the stairs, too. Nora and Harvey looked at each other and, without a word, pushed through the crowd toward the fireplace.

  “You’re such a spoilsport, brother!” Lucas was saying. “Just chill out and enjoy the party.”

  “The police are going to be here in ten minutes,” Jacob said, “and I—”

  “STOP. THE. MUSIC!” a voice bellowed from the stairs. “NOW!”

  *****

  Chapter 5

  The Uncle’s Wrath

  “Stop the music!” the voice repeated.

  Everyone froze and heads swiveled towards the man who was calmly walking down the stairs. Dressed in a pale grey suit, the man had a head of white hair and a curiously unlined face. His sharp, blue eyes were pinned on Lucas and contempt stood clear on his face. Just as clear was the change in Lucas, from teasing and confident, he now looked furious.

  “You are all trespassing,” the man in the suit declared. “The police are on their way and you will be arrested. Get out while you can.”

  Like water gushing from a hole in a bucket, a stream of people began to exit through the front door, some with cans of beer still in their hands. Weakly, Lucas tried to protest and stop some of them, to no avail.

  “And you…” The man in the suit walked to Lucas. “You’re not a child anymore, but I’ve a good mind to give you a spanking.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” Lucas rolled up his sleeves. “You’re right that I am not a child anymore. I can take you with one hand.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” the man snorted dismissively. “You think going to the gym six days a week is going to help you in a fight? I’ve been to Vietnam, son. I don’t fight clean. You’ll be on the floor wondering why you can’t feel your legs in two seconds.”

  “Hey, look. Uncle Finley, Lucas, let’s calm down.” Jacob stepped between the two. “Let’s just take a breath now—”

  “You’re still the same irresponsible loser you always were,” the man continued, pointing a bony finger at Lucas. “Do you have any idea how you’ve made your mother feel? Today was important to her. This was supposed to be a quiet family affair!”

  “Family affair? Don’t make me laugh. My dad would be rolling over in his grave if he knew you moved in on Mom the way you have!” Lucas yelled. “This is my Dad’s home, dirtbag! Not yours.! I should be the one calling the police on you!”

  “I’m your uncle, boy, and you’d better be respectful—”

  “Maybe I’m a loser, but at least I don’t live off a woman’s money!” Lucas shot back. “Or is that what you think real men do? How much did my mom pay for that fancy Porsche of yours? Or didn’t you think I’d notice?”

  “Ok, that’s enough.” Jacob grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and dragged him away. When the older man tried to follow, Harvey put a hand on his chest and shook his head.

  Outside, Nora could hear honks and yells as cars backed out of the clogged driveway. Behind it all, she thought she could also hear the vague sound of sirens. Jacob and Harvey had taken Lucas and his uncle off into opposite corners of the room, and just in time, too. Nora had an instinct that in a few more seconds, punches would have been flying.

  Grace stood in the center of the living room, looking uncertainly from Harvey to Jacob. Nora put her hand in her daughter’s palm and gave it a squeeze. “I think it’s fine now,” she said.

  “It isn’t fine.” Grace sighed. “I don’t know how any of this happened. Jacob’s mom is distraught. She’s hiding out in her room upstairs. This is so horribly awkward.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, Jacob and I only got here an hour ago,” Grace explained. “The party was in full swing even then. All Lucas’ doing, of course. Lucas has been staying here at his mom’s house, as you know. Apparently Uncle Finley came over early and he and Viola have been…” Grace shook her head. “Well, it’s nobody’s business if they date each other, really. It’s been a while now since Jacob’s father passed. But…you can imagine neither Lucas nor Jacob are too happy about it.”

  “What does that have to do with the party?” Nora asked.

  “Lucas threw it to irritate Finley, as far as I can tell,” Grace said. “Worked, didn’t it? Like a charm.”

  “Ah.” Nora saw the light now. She threw a glance over at Lucas. Jacob had a hand on each of his shoulders and was saying something to him quietly. In the other corner of the room, Harvey had his poker face on as their Uncle Finley gesticulated wildly.

  They heard sirens as a police car pulled up. Grace sighed. “Look, Mom, let Dad and Jacob handle the cops, ok? Let’s you and I go up and talk to the others.”

  “Actually…” Nora pointed to the corner, where she’d placed the bag of mashed potatoes. “Let’s go to the kitchen, shall we? I need to get those in the fridge.”

  “Oh! The turkey!” Grace gave a horrified squeak. “Viola told me to take it out of the oven! Oh, Mom, I totally forgot!”

  *****

  Chapter 6

  The Tale Of The Turkey

  “It’s probably ruined by now!” Grace fretted. “I can’t believe I forgot. There was just so much noise and confusion!”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s not ruined.” Nora rushed into the kitchen with Grace behind her. They both paused in the doorway and looked at each other, shaking their head. The kitchen was an inglorious mess, thanks to the party. Dishes were piled up in the sink and along the counters with half-eaten food on them. Open cans of soda and beer were on every imaginable surface and a few cans lay crushed on the floor. The garbage was overflowing and cigarette butts filled a flower pot. In the center of all this mess, stood a sleek, black ove, with smoke billowing from one corner.

  “Nooo,” Grace groaned.

  Nora, who had seen her fair share of disasters in the kitchen, rolled her shoulders and got to work. First, she cleared some space on the counter, wiping it down quickly with some wipes from her purse. Then, she took the turkey out of the oven and surveyed the damage.

  It was a beautiful twenty pound turkey resting on a bed of slightly scorched carrots and onions. Luckily, the turkey itself was only a little overdone. Nothing some extra gravy couldn’t cover up.

  “Alright, Grace. Let’s do this, shall we?” Nora rubbed her hands together.

  “Mom, we should get back out there. See how things are with the guys.”

  Nora shook her head. “Trust your father and Jacob to handle that. As far as I can see, they’re doing a good job. As for me, I think the best thing we could do is clean up the kitchen as fast as possible so the family can have a nice meal together once all the drama has died down.”

  “You think so?” Grace was uncertain.

  “I know so,” Nora said. “Right now, things are chaotic. The best we can do is restore order to the little things. Trust me, it will add up and make a difference.”

  “Ok.” Grace still looked unsure, but she was game. “Can I help?”

  “Get started on the dishes.” Nora pointed to the sink. “As for me, I’m going to try and get some moistness back into this dry turkey here.”

  Grace shook her head. “That’s impossible, Mom.”

  “Ah, I’ve ruined my share of Thanksgiving dinners as a youngun.” Nora grinned. “This is a little trick I learned from a chef in New York — you pour some broth on the turkey and pop it back in the oven at 250 degrees for 10 minutes. Makes a world of a difference.”

  From outside, they heard mostly low conversation interspersed with the occasional obstinate “I’m still not sorry!�
�� from Lucas. The cops were there and Nora assumed Harvey would smooth things out eventually, even if it did take some time.

  With the turkey in the oven and Grace attacking the dishes in the sink, Nora began cleaning up the discarded cans.

  Half an hour later, when the cops had gone and Jacob finally came into the kitchen, a blonde girl was trailing behind him. Grace was just setting the table. The kitchen wasn’t quite spotless, but it was far from the mess it had been. Grace, who had stayed over at Jacob’s before, had rustled up a new tablecloth and gotten out the nice plates. Nora saw Jacob’s mouth fall open as his eyes roamed around the kitchen, from the golden turkey to the clean silverware. They rested finally on Grace and he gave her a big, grateful smile.

  “This is incredible,” he said. “I can’t thank you two enough.”

  The tall blonde girl standing next to Jacob, however, was not so grateful. She wrinkled her nose as if she had smelled something bad and gave a disdainful look around the kitchen. “That’s not how Aunt Viola usually sets the table,” she said. “Honestly, Grace, what were you thinking?”

  The tall blonde, Nora noticed, was made up just a tad too much for someone attending a family function. Diamonds glittered at her ears and her burgundy dress was tight in all the right places. She stood in stark contrast next to Grace, who wore jeans and a blouse speckled with various remnants of the cleanup. Nora remembered Jacob talking about his mother’s best friend and the best friend’s daughter, Ramona. One glance at her and Nora knew that Ramona wanted to be much more than just a family friend. Nora had bristled almost immediately at this stranger who’d dared talk down to her daughter. Grace, however, gave an airy laugh and said, “Come on, Ramona, it’s called Thanksgiving, not Critiques-giving.”

  “Well, Aunt Viola isn’t going to like it,” Ramona said. “But of course, it was sweet of you.” She said the word sweet as though it were poison.

  Jacob, looking caught in the middle, cleared his throat. “This is really nice of you, guys. We would all have pitched in but—”

  “It’s alright,” Nora said smiling.

  Jacob looked miserable. “You’ve all been so nice. Harvey smoothed everything over with the cops and you guys saved Thanksgiving dinner. This is such a mess. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you must think of us—”

  “Come now.” Nora rubbed the back of her neck, feeling embarrassed for the boy. “Jacob, there’s no need to apologize. These things happen.”

  “Yeah,” Ramona said. “Come on, Jakey. It was just a party. They get out of hand sometimes.” She put a hand on his shoulder and patted it. Nora saw Grace’s eyes narrow. Jacob looked too upset to notice that the smile on Ramona’s face was more predatory than comforting.

  Men. So oblivious sometimes.

  “Uh, anyway, Nora, this is Ramona Fisher-Ainsworth. A family friend. Ramona, this is my future mother-in-law. Nora, The Super Chef.”

  “Charmed,” Ramona said. “Shall we call the others down, Jakey? Nora and Grace are handling the kitchen just fine, I think.”

  “Ah, why don’t you go call them?” Jacob asked. “I’ll stay here and help out.”

  “Oh.” Ramona looked put out but took the hint.

  Jacob’s mother, Viola, was the first to come down, looking as miserable as a wet cat. She didn’t comment on the state of the living room and the comparatively clean kitchen, but Nora could tell she had noticed.

  Nora was ready to graciously demur any thanks but, instead, Viola clucked her tongue.

  “This isn’t how we set the table,” she said. “Oh, what a mess. Who put out these plates? Honestly...”

  Nora’s face grew red. She opened her mouth to give a scathing retort, but Grace gave her a pleading look, so Nora bit her tongue. All in the name of peace.

  “Mom, the kitchen was a total mess thanks to Lucas’ party,” Jacob said. “You should be thanking Grace and Nora for saving the day!”

  “Well, I’m sure they tried,” Viola said with a sigh. “I’ll just put out the proper plates now.”

  “I’ll help,” Grace offered.

  “Oh, no dear. Just go call the others down, that will be enough,” Viola said, her lips pursed.

  “Ramona’s calling them,” Jacob said.

  “Is she? What a sweetheart.” Viola smiled. “Grace, dear, did you take the turkey out when I’d asked you to? It looks a tad overdone.”

  “I…forgot,” Grace said.

  “Ah,” said Viola.

  Nora was practically boiling under her collar. She had a good mind to hoist up the turkey and stuff it with Viola’s head. She regretted canceling her original plans now. Part of her even wondered if Lucas had thrown that party with Viola’s encouragement. Viola clearly didn’t want Grace or her family here.

  Jacob jumped in, trying to clear the air. With a falsely-cheerful voice, he said, “It all looks wonderful, sweetheart. I’m sure my family will love it.” Then kissed Grace on her cheek.

  Viola only pursed her lips more and Nora, at another entreating glance from Grace, held her tongue…just barely. Viola might need a lesson in politeness, but Nora supposed it wasn’t her place to give it.

  Not yet, anyhow.

  *****

  Chapter 7

  Feuds

  The people gathered at the Thanksgiving table were a curious mix. On one side of Nora sat Viola’s sister, Eugenie, an intellectual looking woman with dark-framed spectacles and streaks of white hair, dressed in a pantsuit. Eugenie sat next to her husband, Dave, a tall, balding man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of baggy cargo pants. On Nora’s other side was Jacob’s Uncle Finley, with his well-cut, expensive suit and botoxed, unlined forehead. Next to Uncle Finley sat Viola’s best friend Sophia, Ramona’s mother. Sophia was short and plump, with a face that rather resembled a pug. Jacob’s niece, six-year-old Kaylee, looking rather bored in the company of these adults, and had her head bent over an electronic game that was emitting chirrups as she smashed buttons.

  Despite Lucas’ pointed absence from the table, the company soon warmed up, especially once they’d opened up a nice bottle of wine.

  Nora found herself chatting with Viola’s sister, Eugenie, and Jacob’s Uncle Finley. Harvey, sitting on the opposite side of the table to her, was deep in conversation with Eugenie’s husband, Dave.

  “Yes, my husband, Dave, teaches art at the high school here in Greenfield, and I work for the government,” Eugenie said in answer to a question from Nora. Then, with a slightly embarrassed laugh, she added, “Well, I used to. I just retired three months ago, actually.”

  “Oh, what kind of work did you do?” Nora asked.

  “I was the mayor,” Eugenie said, looking faintly embarrassed.

  “She should have been the president.” Jacob came around the table and kissed his aunt on the cheek. “You should have seen her in her prime, Nora. She was a firecracker. She even took me to a rally to protest rising taxes when I was a little kid.”

  Aunt Eugenie smiled at Jacob. “Well, yes. We Smiths have always had a rebellious streak. Especially us Smith women — we’re all cut from the same cloth. We know what we want and we go after it.”

  Nora didn’t quite agree. Eugenie and Viola might be sisters, but even though she looked ambitious and tough, Eugenie was warm and sweet, very unlike Viola.

  “Look at your mom for example — classic Smith genes. She married a Giordano like a total rebel, you know.”

  “How was that an act of rebellion?” Nora asked.

  “Well, it got her disowned from my family for a while.” Eugenie laughed. “This is all ancient history, of course, but we Smiths have had a blood feud with Giordanos for, oh, about three generations.”

  “Is she talking about the feud?” Finley jumped into the conversation, his ears perked. He had a playful grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

  “Oh, you love to put your own spin on things,” Eugenie said. “Don’t you listen to his lies, Nora. Never trust a gregarious Giordano, as my father used to say.”
>
  “I believe the correct term is, never trust a silver-tongued Smith!” Finley laughed.

  “Ooh, I’m staying out of this.” Jacob turned back to Grace. “I’ve heard both sides of this story a million times growing up and I still can’t make up my mind who was right.”

  “Well, I’ll save you some time — the Giordanos were right,” Finley said. “This all begins around 1910. My great grandpa, Lorenzo Giordano, started a company with his then-best-friend, Abel Smith. Well, his name might as well have been Cain, instead.”

  “Oh, please,” Eugenie protested.

  “Uh-uh! I get to tell first.” Finley shook his finger. “Well, Lorenzo was a genius, and he was one of the first men in America to create a toaster.”

  “A toaster? Really?”

  “Yes. In fact, I think you’ll find he might have been the first genius to create the concept of the ‘pop-up’. Before this, toasters were a lot more unsafe. Well, they started an appliance company called Giso Electronics and, sure enough, business was booming. The men were such good friends that they even bought a large thirty room ranch house and lived together with their families. Problem was, the wives hated each other.”

  “Uh-oh,” Nora said.

  “That’s right. Uh-oh. Now, tragedy struck the Giordano family when Lorenzo passed away at only forty-five. And that’s when Abel showed his true colors. Probably prompted by his wife, Abel suddenly turned unbearably cruel. He kicked Lorenzo’s widow and three kids out of the house and tried to take over the company completely. He harassed the poor widow and gave her no money. He even tried to use the corrupt police chief to throw Great Grandma in jail!”

  “Goodness!” Nora exclaimed.

  Eugenie was shaking her head in disagreement but, to her credit, she held her tongue, allowing Finley to continue.

  “But the world was changing. In 1917, the USA entered into World War I and Abel Smith was forced to go to Europe,” Finley went on. “In his absence, with nobody to run the company, Giso — that’s our family company — began to flounder. It was nearly bankrupt when Maria, Lorenzo’s wife, offered to take over the reins. And she did. But Abel Smith’s wife thought Maria was a fool and so she unloaded a bunch of her stock —to Maria — which gave her a majority stake in the company. But to everyone’s great surprise, Maria, who had never really been to school, turned out to be a shrewd, tough businesswoman.” Finley looked over at Grace and nodded down at her ring. “You should be proud to have that ring on your finger, Grace. Maria Giordano was an exceptional woman — big heart and tough as nails. They don’t make ‘em like her anymore.”