“Young love,” Richard said with a theatrical sigh.
“Young?”
“The love can be young, even if the lovers aren’t.”
“Shakespeare?”
“Just me.”
I saw somebody come into the room then. “What does the Bard say about lost loves?”
“ ‘Love that comes too late, like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, to the great sender turns a sour offense, crying, “That’s good that’s gone.” ’ All’s Well That Ends Well, Act V, Scene 3. Why do you ask?”
“Because Pudd’nhead Wilson just walked in.” He joined the receiving line, and I’m afraid I wasn’t terribly polite when I dragged Richard over to get directly behind him before anybody else could. Fortunately, Pudd’nhead didn’t see us.
Big Bill finished shaking the hand of a man I didn’t recognize, then turned to Pudd’nhead.
“Mr. Wilson,” he said as they shook hands. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, sir, it has been a few seasons,” Pudd’nhead replied.
“I’m surprised we never saw your name in the sports pages. Didn’t you ever make it into the major league?”
Pudd’nhead reddened, but his voice was still polite. “I’m afraid not. Fact is, I wasn’t that good a ball player, but then again, even a minor league player looks good next to the yahoos you get in a town like this.”
The two men bared their teeth at each other, then Big Bill said, “It was kind of you to come tonight.”
“Just paying my respects.” He paused, then added, “I’m sorry for your loss.” He glanced over at where Aunt Maggie was talking to Aunt Nora, then back to Big Bill, making it plain what loss he was really talking about. He moved on to Dorcas and Burt, who shook his hand but clearly didn’t know who he was. Then he went over to Aunt Maggie.
Big Bill kept watching Pudd’nhead until I cleared my throat to let him know Richard and I were standing there.
“Hey, Laurie Anne, Richard. I’m glad y’all came. I just hope y’all aren’t too put out at me. I want y’all to know that our deception didn’t come easy, especially not for Maggie.”
“We know,” I said.
“If I’d gotten my way, it would have been the truth, but…” He looked at Pudd’nhead, who had his hand on Aunt Maggie’s arm. “Not that I’ve given up, mind you.”
“Nobody’s ever accused you of being a quitter, Big Bill,” I said.
“And I don’t ever intend to give anyone an excuse to,” he said. “Which is why I haven’t quit looking for whoever it is who’s trying to kill me.”
“Then Junior talked to you?” I asked, relieved. I’d known that he had to be told, but I hadn’t wanted to bring up the subject. “We won’t give up, either.”
“Even if I’m not your uncle?” he said with a crooked grin.
“Even then.”
“Thank you.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s not right that Irene died that way, Laurie Anne, not when it should have been—”
“It shouldn’t have been anyone,” I said emphatically.
“Sometimes I wonder. I know what people are saying, that my being in this position is nothing more than chickens coming home to roost. A whole lot of chickens.” I started to say something comforting, but before I could, Big Bill patted my hand and said, “I’ll be fine. I’ve got my son and his wife, and that should be enough for anyone.” I noticed that he wouldn’t let his eyes so much as stray toward Aunt Maggie.
There really wasn’t anything I could say to that. Besides, the line was getting longer, and Dorcas was looking pointedly at us. “We’ll talk more, later,” I finally said, and Richard and I moved past him.
To Dorcas, I said, “I’m very sorry about Miz Duffield. I know y’all had been together a long time.”
“Thank you, Laurie Anne. I am going to miss her dreadfully.” She took a deep breath. “Now, I know things aren’t the way we thought they were, but that doesn’t mean you can’t bring your little girl over to visit before you go back to Boston. I really do like having little ones around.”
“Thank you, Dorcas. We’ll do that.”
She leaned over to kiss my cheek and whispered, “But don’t bring that dog.”
Burt’s greeting was more perfunctory. He was so busy watching Big Bill that he barely noticed anybody else. He looked half terrified and half overjoyed, and I decided that he was trying to come to terms with how close he’d come to losing his father.
Richard and I had already decided that we weren’t going to go into the private viewing area to see Miz Duffield in her coffin. I understood why some people need to see a loved one’s body to say a final good-bye, but it still wasn’t something I wanted to do.
Aunt Maggie was now deep in conversation with Pudd’nhead, and though I was nosy enough to want to hear what they were saying, I gave them their privacy. Instead, I satisfied my curiosity by staying close to the receiving line while Richard mingled.
That’s why I was there when Vasti got to Dorcas in the receiving line and nearly broke down. I didn’t hear it all, but I did hear Vasti wail, “I was so mean to her!” before she burst into tears. I would have gone to tend to her, but Aunt Daphine was with her and led her weeping daughter away to the bathroom, where I was sure they’d make the necessary repairs to Vasti’s eye makeup. It’s not that Vasti wasn’t sincere—I was sure that she honestly regretted not having been nicer to Miz Duffield. The thing was, Miz Duffield hadn’t been very nice to Vasti, either. I hadn’t liked the woman much myself, though that wasn’t going to keep me from trying to find out who was really behind her death.
We ended up staying longer than I’d expected because Richard was catching up with some of the people he’d directed in the previous year’s Christmas pageant and Aunt Maggie was still talking to Pudd’nhead. They’d been settled down in a quiet corner for a long while when the Walterses decided to shut down the receiving line. Big Bill pointedly stayed away from Aunt Maggie and Pudd’nhead, while Dorcas found a seat with some other society ladies. Burt started off following Big Bill, but when Big Bill impatiently shooed him off, he wandered around aimlessly until I waved him over.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“I’m all right,” he said. “It’s Dorcas and Daddy I’m worried about. Irene had been with Dorcas since before we were married, and Daddy had a mighty close call.” He looked over at his father. “First the poisoning and then this, and now Junior says he might still be in danger.”
I nodded, glad that Big Bill had confided in him.
Burt almost smiled. “Daddy keeps telling me to quit hovering over him, but I can’t seem to help myself. I don’t want anything to happen to him, Laurie Anne. He’s a mean old cuss, but he’s my daddy, and I love him. Maybe I haven’t been the son he wanted—”
“Stop that!” I said. “You’ve been a wonderful son.” That was assuming he wasn’t trying to kill Big Bill, of course, but I really didn’t think he was. “You’ve done everything a man can do for his father.” Then I saw somebody unexpected come into the room, and when Burt started to thank me, I surprised myself by saying, “Come to think of it, no, you haven’t.”
“I beg your pardon,” Burt said.
“You haven’t given Big Bill the one thing he really wants, have you? The thing he wants more than anything else in the world is another Walters to carry on the name after you and he are gone.”
The blood rushed to Burt’s face. “You know I tried; Dorcas couldn’t carry—”
“I’m not talking about you having a child,” I said. “I’m talking about your brother’s child.”
The color left his face as quickly as it had come, and he glanced around to see if anybody had heard me. That’s when he saw Mike Cooper, who was shaking hands with Tavis Montgomery.
“Good Lord!” he breathed, and started to move.
But I grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let him. I was suddenly angry. No, I was furious. I’ve never figured out where all that emotion came from, other than the
fact that I’d been thinking about my own parents and grandparents—the way I always did at funerals—and how I wished they’d been able to see Alice. And about Sandie Herron, who might not have gone nuts if he’d been able to make peace with his mother before she died. And finally about Big Bill, who’d suspected his own son of wanting to kill him and was miserable because he saw his family dwindling away to nothing. If Sandie had moved just a little faster, Big Bill would have died without knowing that the grandson he’d always wanted was right there in Byerly. Families always have secrets—maybe families need secrets—but I was convinced that Mike Cooper ought not to be kept a secret any longer.
Burt looked at me, shocked, as I held on to him and hoarsely whispered, “You listen to me, Burt Walters. Your father deserves to know about Mike, and Mike deserves to know about him. If you don’t tell them, I will.”
“You promised!” he protested.
“I don’t care what I promised. I’m doing my best to keep Big Bill alive, but if I screw up again, Big Bill is not going to die without knowing about that boy!”
“But…”
“Forget it, Burt. It’s too late to stop it now.”
Mike had left Tavis and was holding out his hand to Big Bill, saying something I couldn’t hear. I don’t think Big Bill heard him either, because he was pure-out staring at the boy. I’d never seen Small Bill alive, but I’d seen pictures, and Mike Cooper was the spitting image of his father. Mike stopped talking to stare back, and I wondered if he was seeing his father’s face in Big Bill’s.
Big Bill turned away from Mike to search for Burt, and the question was plain on his face. Burt stared back at his father for a long moment, then slowly nodded. Big Bill looked back at Mike, and tears started to roll down his face.
I finally let go of Burt, and he joined his father and his nephew. Something was said, and Mr. Giles, with the discretion all good funeral directors have, appeared at Big Bill’s elbow to usher them away to someplace private. The nosy part of me would have loved to be a fly on the wall to hear what Burt said, but mostly I was just glad that he was saying something.
The visitation was pretty much over by then, especially when Dorcas went to find out what was going on and then didn’t come back. So I went to collect Richard and head back to the house. I’d meant to collect Aunt Maggie, too, but she announced that she was going to dinner with Pudd’nhead, and made it quite plain that Richard and I weren’t invited. So we went to the drive-through at Hardee’s to pick up something to eat.
On the way back to the house, Richard said, “May I safely assume that you had something to do with that reunion tonight?”
“I didn’t set it up, if that’s what you mean, but I did make sure that Burt didn’t prevent it from happening.”
“Why did you get involved? Don’t you think—”
“I wasn’t thinking, Richard,” I said, “and I realize that what I did was completely outrageous. Burt had good reasons for keeping Mike away from Big Bill, and I had no right to stick my nose in. But you know what? I’m glad I did. I really think good is going to come of it.” When he didn’t answer right away, I looked over at him. “No quote from the Bard about interfering females?”
He shook his head. “Your instincts are usually sound, Laura. I’m willing to believe that it was the right time for it all to come out.”
“Thank you, love,” I said. I knew darned well that with the personalities involved, it could all have blown up in my face, but I meant it when I told Richard I was glad. Maybe Big Bill had lost a wife or girlfriend or whatever Aunt Maggie was to him, but darn it, he’d gotten a grandson.
Byerly’s phone lines must have been burning, because in the short time it took for us to get back to the house, the triplets had already heard about Big Bill, Burt, and Mike going off together and demanded to be told what I knew.
I had to disappoint them. Yes, I’d threatened Burt with revealing the secret, but only to Big Bill. I wasn’t about to spread the tale elsewhere, not even to the triplets. I managed to distract them by telling them about Aunt Maggie leaving with Pudd’nhead, and describing the long-ago romance. They seemed satisfied with that bit of gossip, accompanied by some of Alice’s messy good-bye kisses.
Though it was past time for Alice to be in bed, it seemed like forever since I’d taken time to play with her, so Richard and I got onto the floor to do just that. It was only after she yawned wide enough to swallow her teddy bear that I fed her and put her to bed.
When Richard and I got back downstairs, he caught me looking at the clock on the wall.
“Are you planning to wait up for Aunt Maggie?” he asked.
“Don’t be silly. I was just looking to see what time it is so I’ll have an idea of what time Alice is likely to sleep to. And wondering what’s on TV.”
“ ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’ Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2.”
“Okay, I am curious. Those two going off together is just one more bit of craziness in a mighty crazy night. Besides which, I don’t think I could get to sleep anyway.”
“Is that so? I could help you with that.” He leaned over with a kiss, reminding me that playing with Alice wasn’t the only thing I’d been missing. Sharing our room with Alice had been a little inhibiting.
“What if Aunt Maggie comes in?” I asked.
“Hey, we’re married, which is more than she can say.”
I would have argued further, but in a very short period, I was far too busy. Richard relaxed me so thoroughly that he just about had to carry me to bed.
Chapter 27
I didn’t hear Aunt Maggie come in that night, but when I got up for Alice’s two o’clock feeding, I saw that she was in bed. Not that it was really any of my business, but when did I ever let that stop me?
All of us were up early the next day, though only Alice looked as if she was happy about it. Miz Duffield’s funeral was set for that morning, and after yet another drop-off for Alice, we drove to the church together.
It was an elegant service, with a dignified eulogy from Dorcas, and I felt sure Miz Duffield would have approved. Nothing was said about how she died, other than veiled references to her having been taken too soon. To me, the most notable thing was the fact that Mike Cooper was in the front pew, sitting between Big Bill and Burt. Dorcas sat on the other side of Burt, and a couple of times I caught her looking at her husband with an expression of happiness she couldn’t hide, even during a funeral.
After the church service was over, we all drove to Woodgreen Acres for the burial. The Walterses had given Miz Duffield a place in their own family plot, and though I wondered if the deciding factor had been Dorcas’s affection or Big Bill’s guilt, I was still touched on Miz Duffield’s behalf. I couldn’t imagine that there was anyplace else she’d rather be buried.
After the preacher said a few words and the Walterses had tossed handfuls of dirt onto the coffin, Dorcas announced that they were going to be receiving guests at their home immediately after the funeral. Aunt Maggie didn’t say anything, but I could tell from the look in her eye that she wasn’t ready to go back to the mansion, so Richard and I dropped her off at her house before going ourselves. I knew I’d paid enough respects to Miz Duffield to satisfy propriety, but I had a hunch something interesting was going to happen at the reception.
If Miz Duffield wasn’t already in heaven, seeing the spread Dorcas put out in her honor would have sent here there. There were no pedestrian dishes of funeral food like deviled eggs and Jell-O molds. Instead, there were tasteful hors d’oeuvres, each one a miniature work of art; shrimp that must have cost a fortune to bring in fresh that far from the coast; and dainty fruit tarts. In the corner, Miz Duffield’s beloved string quartet played quietly.
The people there were mostly Walters family friends and higher-ups from the mill. Junior was there, in a thoroughly starched uniform and freshly polished boots, and so was Belva, though she looked ill at ease, especially when so many of Byerly’s muckety-mucks congratulated her o
n her fine work. Ace reporter Hank Parker looked suitably solemn but was still taking notes, and Burt’s former trio of nurses had come together. Richard and I, and Vasti and her husband were the only Burnettes present, which would also have pleased Miz Duffield.
People were starting to think about leaving when Big Bill rapped a glass with a fork to get everybody’s attention. Since I thought I knew what was coming, I got closer but angled myself so I could watch the other people in the room rather than Big Bill. I couldn’t wait to see what the reactions to his news were going to be.
Once the room was quiet, Big Bill said, “I wanted to thank everyone for coming today, and I know that Irene would be very gratified to see how much she was respected. She was an admirable woman, and we’ll miss her greatly. This is a sad time for the Walterses.” He paused a moment. “And yet, as is so often the case, this is also a joyful time, and I’d like to tell you why. Mike, would you come up here a minute?”
Mike Cooper went to stand beside him, looking uncomfortable and excited all at once.
“I’m sure most of you have met Mike Cooper,” Big Bill said. “In a very short time, he’s made himself indispensable at the mill, which would be reason enough to recognize him today. But there is another, more important reason. We’ve recently discovered something amazing about Mike’s background, something we’d suspected but, until now, had never been able to determine for certain.” He put his arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Mike is more than just an invaluable employee; he’s a member of my family. Mike Cooper is my grandson.”
There was a second of shocked silence, then the room almost exploded in conversation, and I eagerly looked from one face to another. Most of them acted just as I’d expected: with astonishment, disbelief, even amusement. Vasti’s eyes bugged out; Junior looked smug, as if an old suspicion had been confirmed; and Hank Parker nearly broke his neck getting to Big Bill so he could bark questions at him.
But there was one face that caught my attention, one expression I hadn’t expected: absolute fury. It only lasted a second before those contorted features were schooled back to a look of amiability, but it lasted long enough to make my heart jump up to my throat. The person who wanted Big Bill dead was right there in front of me, and I knew who it was. I even had a glimmering of an idea of why. What I didn’t know was how on earth I was going to prove it.
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 08 - Wed and Buried Page 22
