by Vickie Fee
Di opened the door for him to leave. Dave touched her arm gently, and she flinched.
I slid into a dining chair. She sat down across from me at the blond wood table.
“Things don’t look good for Earl, do they?”
“Do you want me to be encouraging or honest?” Di asked.
“Both.”
“Okay. He’s not sunk yet. But I hope his lawyer is as good as Dave says.”
Chapter 8
On Saturday morning, I figured Heather and Tiffany would have plenty to do getting ready for the shower, so I told them I’d stop by the bakery and pick up the cake on my way. When I walked through the front door of Dixie Donuts and More, the aroma of fresh, hot doughnuts prompted a sudden, overwhelming craving. I justified taking the time to buy two glazed doughnuts and a cup of coffee by telling myself I’d had a light breakfast and I’d need my strength to be in top form for the shower.
Bakery owner Renee brought the cake from the kitchen and set it on the counter/display case next to the cash register. I had planned to pay for the cake and add it to Heather’s bill, but Renee said Tiffany had paid in advance when she ordered it.
I opened the box to inspect the cake before leaving. It’s never wise to take a cake order on faith only to discover later that your box contains a SpongeBob SquarePants cake when you were expecting a sweet baby shower confection. The short two-tiered cake featured a pink marzipan ballet slipper and a blue sneaker. Underneath the mismatched footwear were alternating blue and pink letters that read, “It’s a . . .” When the cake was sliced, a luscious pink shade of strawberry cake hidden under the frosting would reveal it’s a girl.
I put the cake box on the passenger side floorboard of my car and wedged it in tightly with small boxes to keep it from sliding around. I phoned Heather to tell her that I was on my way and that I’d need someone to hold open the front door for me so I could carry in the cake.
Holly was already on-site overseeing the decorations. Things were shaping up.
We unboxed the cake to a chorus of oohs and aahs all around.
“Liv, does this look even to you?” Holly called out from the living room. She and Tiffany had strung a clothesline across the curtain rod in the bay window.
I suggested some slight adjustments and the two women hung a few small toys and baby items from the line. Adorable little outfits would be clipped to the line later as Heather opened her gifts. Packages from Tiffany ensured the gifts to be opened would include a pink tutu and frilly dress. The gift table positioned beneath the clothesline featured a stuffed pink elephant and blue rhino, which matched the cute zoo animals theme in the nursery.
While Tiffany and Holly decorated the living room, Heather and I worked on setting out items for brunch. The menu included ham with mini biscuits, made by Heather’s mom; cheesy grits, which were being kept warm in the oven; granola and Greek yogurt parfaits topped with fresh strawberries and blueberries, chilling in the fridge; mini bagels, which would be offered with an assortment of flavored cream cheese spreads; and juices and coffee. Holly would be making omelets to order, something she had a flair for.
Heather looked tired and the shower hadn’t even started. I encouraged her to take a seat in the living room and prop her feet up on the ottoman until the guests arrived.
“We’re in really good shape,” Holly reassured her.
“Are the favor bags tucked away safely?” I asked. “We don’t want anyone to sneak a peek at those little pink tutus until after the reveal.”
We heard a car door slam.
“Here’s Mama, even though we told her not to come early,” Tiffany said after peering out the front window.
“It’s fine,” I said. “We’re just about ready to roll and the other guests will be arriving soon.”
Normally with a budget party like this where we were only hired to do the planning, Holly and I would just come by to oversee the setup and give the hosts one last boost of confidence, and then slip out before the party began. But since Heather was so hugely pregnant she could hardly move, and probably shouldn’t be on her feet too much, Holly and I had decided between ourselves that we would stay and be hands-on for this one. Tiffany had also given us some indication that there could be a bit of a power struggle between Heather’s mom and mother-in-law. Hopefully, we could serve as a buffer and keep them in neutral corners. Most people may not realize it, but managing contentious family situations is an integral part of a party planner’s job.
About fifteen minutes later the other guests began to arrive. Everybody hugged Heather, who had managed to dislodge herself from the easy chair. Tiffany collected gifts and placed them on the gift table. Holly got everyone started on beverages.
The juices would actually play a part in a shower game called My Water Broke. Ice trays of different sizes had been filled to varying degrees. A miniature baby doll had been placed in each ice tray slot. The ice cubes would be dropped in the chilled juices and would melt at varying rates. Once a cube was completely melted, releasing the baby, the guest was to yell, “My water broke!” The first one to do so would win a prize.
Our plan called for serving the food first. As a party planner I’ve learned that the earlier in the day a meal is scheduled the more important prompt service becomes. People get cranky when they’re hungry. Heather had been right about her Aunt Rose having a big appetite. She was working on her second plate before everyone else had been served. But I wasn’t worried about running out of food.
Holly was whipping up omelets with the speed and efficiency of a short-order cook.
After everyone had eaten, we played a couple of the usual games—passing around a bag that people reach into to feel baby-related items and guess what they are, and having guests suggest possible baby names beginning with certain letters of the alphabet.
Holly and I were busy in the kitchen. Tiffany walked over and touched my arm. “Liv, Heather wants you and Holly to join us for the games. Come on in here and sit down. We’ll work on clearing up later.”
Holly sat in an empty chair near the gift table and I squeezed into a tight spot on the end of the sofa. I spoke to Heather’s mom, who was sitting in a chair beside the sofa, but I was honestly more interested in the gossip that the women next to me on the sofa were dishing out.
“I heard Heather’s mother-in-law was against the marriage,” a woman known to me only as Deena said in a hushed tone. “Didn’t think Heather was good enough for her baby boy.”
“Well, Heather didn’t exactly live like a nun before she and Josh got together,” the other woman, a chubby redhead replied. “’Course Josh ain’t no prize, either. But I guess he and Heather are a pretty good match.”
“Yeah, and at least Heather knows who her baby’s daddy is, which is more than I can say for that Weems girl Josh used to run around with,” Deena said.
“Oh, I know it. That child’s father could be any one of a half dozen men in Delbert County.”
Oddly enough, there’s more than one Weems family in Delbert County, so I was trying to figure out which one they were talking about. I finally decided I should be ashamed of myself for listening to idle gossip and began chatting with Heather’s mom.
In the pass-the-bag-and-fondle-the-contents game, everyone was stumped by something called baby bangs. It’s a fringe of hair attached to a delicate hair band that makes it look like the baby has more hair—an infant toupee, basically. It’s completely ridiculous but was good for a few laughs at the shower.
Heather had decided she wanted to reveal the cake before opening the gifts to allow people to savor dessert while she was unwrapping presents and so everyone could chat about the big “It’s a girl” revelation.
I was helping Holly in the kitchen and listening to the background of laughter going on in the living room when I heard someone yell, “My water broke!” I grabbed the gift bag we had designated for the winner of that game and walked into the other room. As I passed Heather I saw she had suddenly stopped laughing and put
her hands to her belly. I also noticed a puddle on the hardwood floor between her feet and realized she was the one who had called out about the water breaking—and she wasn’t talking about the game. I’m not an expert on these matters, but I know enough to know when a pregnant woman’s water breaks it’s time to get her to the hospital.
I placed my hand on Heather’s shoulder and told her everything would be okay. Tiffany had gone into the bedroom to gather up the party favor bags.
“Holly, get Tiffany. Tell her she needs to take Heather to the hospital.”
Chaos momentarily broke out as Heather’s mom and mother-in-law took in the scene, panicked, and then tried to compete for who should be in charge. Holly ignored them both and seized control.
Holly clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Ladies, it looks like this sweet baby girl has decided she’s ready to make her grand entrance,” she said.
Holly instructed Heather’s mom to go and fetch Heather’s packed bag for the hospital and her mother-in-law to call her son and tell him to meet them at the hospital because he was about to become a daddy.
“Tiffany, you take Heather to the hospital in her car. Mamas, the two of you should follow in one of your vehicles, so one of you will be able to drive Heather’s car back here later on. She and Josh won’t need both their cars at the hospital, and Tiffany can ride back here with her mom.”
Heather started toward the front door, with her sister at her arm. She stopped, surveyed the mess, and said, “We need to at least put away the food.”
“You go have that baby—we’ll take care of everything here,” I assured her.
All the guests peered out the window as Tiffany backed out of the drive and drove off toward the hospital. A couple of women said hasty good-byes, but everyone else asked what they could do to help.
I started assessing which food items to put in the refrigerator, which to wrap and send home with guests, and which items should go in the trash. Holly supervised sorting through the baby gifts and picked out the things that the baby might be able to wear right away, such as the smallest sleepers. We put those and some receiving blankets in the washing machine so they would be laundered and ready to use.
Other gift items were taken into the nursery. Toys and books were put on shelves. Diapers and wipes were placed on the changing table. Once the laundry had run, we folded all the cute little clothes and put them in what seemed to be the appropriate drawers in the nursery.
Some of the ladies were taking down the decorations and putting them away, while I finished washing up the last of the dishes. After everyone had gone and Holly had taken one last look around to satisfy herself that everything looked right, we both left and headed for home.
* * *
In some ways it felt like it had been a full day, but it was only about one-thirty when I got home. I put the few goodies I had brought home from the shower in the fridge, grabbed a Diet Coke, kicked off my shoes, and went through to the den.
With my feet up on the sofa and my beverage on the table beside me, I checked messages on my phone. There was a message from Di wanting to know if I was up for a run to the mall in Hartville this evening.
I replied, Shopping sounds like fun. I’ll swing by your place. Sixish?
She responded almost instantly with a thumbs-up.
There was also a text from Larry Joe, whom I could hear hammering away on something upstairs. It said, What should I do about lunch?
I texted back, Fix yourself a sandwich. I’m in the den.
Shortly, I heard my husband stomp down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “I’m fixing myself a sandwich like you told me to. You want anything?”
“I’m good.”
In a few minutes he came into the den with a beer and a pile of turkey lunchmeat, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and pickles stuffed between two slices of white bread.
“How’d the shower go?”
“It was pretty exciting. Heather went into labor. She’s at the hospital now.”
“Wow. You really know how to put on a party.”
“What about you, are you making progress on getting the shower upstairs operational again?”
“Yes, ma’am. I estimate you will be luxuriating under a massage showerhead within two or three weeks.”
I had my doubts, but tried to seem positive.
“Honey, if you think that sandwich will tide you over, we’ll have supper about five. I’m meeting Di around six to go to the mall.”
He went back to doing whatever it is he does for hours to the upstairs plumbing and plaster. I dozed off and on to the droning of some old movie starring Elizabeth Taylor on TV.
I made an uninspired supper of spaghetti with store-bought marinara sauce, but it did say “organic” on the label. After tossing a small side salad to go with it, I called to Larry Joe that supper was ready. He couldn’t hear me for the racket he was making and I was too lazy to traipse up the stairs. I texted him.
What did people do before cell phones?
Larry Joe and I sat down to supper. He said grace, nicely remembering to pray for God to watch over Heather and the baby. After the “amen,” he launched into a sermon.
“Liv, before you and Di start conspiring to get Earl off the hook by finding Dave another murder suspect, I just want to say . . .”
I tensed up, expecting Larry Joe to lay down the law about how I needed to keep my nose out of it.
“I’m behind you on this one hundred percent.”
I’m sure the surprise registered on my face.
“But . . .”
Somehow I knew there’d be a “but.”
“I want you to be careful. And if you hear anything that could point to another suspect, you need to tell Dave and Earl’s attorney right away—no digging up the dirt on your own. And don’t keep me in the dark, either. I might even be able to help. Okay?”
“Okay. You can even tag along with us to the mall if you’d like. I imagine we’re just going to do some window shopping and toss around ideas about possible suspects.”
“I think I’ll take a pass on that and let you and Di scheme in your own peculiar way. But let me know what you come up with.”
“You’ve got it.”
I gave Larry Joe a quick kiss, grabbed my purse, and started toward the door. Then I stopped, turned around, grabbed him, and gave him a big hug and kiss.
* * *
Di was watching out the front window of her trailer and hurried out the door as soon as I pulled up. She climbed in and buckled up.
“I like that top,” Di said about the blue and white summer blouse I was wearing.
“Thanks. Mama gave it to me for my birthday.”
“She did good.”
“She has her moments.”
“How’s she holding up?” Di asked.
“She seems to be mostly in denial. But that’s probably a good thing. Maybe it will keep her from meddling in the investigation.”
“Right. She should leave the meddling to us.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So what’s our plan?”
“Before we come up with a plan, we need to come up with a list of likely suspects.”
“There’s a long list of people who didn’t much care for the man,” Di offered.
“Yeah, but which of them is better off financially now that he’s gone? That seems like a good place to start.”
We made the uneventful trip from Dixie to Hartville ruling out everyone we saw during the fireworks. I pulled into the mall driveway and parked near a side entrance. A group of giggling teenaged girls fluttered past us as we approached the door.
“Are we shopping for anything in particular?” I asked.
“No. Why?”
“You were the one who suggested we go to the mall.”
“Oh, I just thought it would be nice to get out for a bit. And the mall’s air-conditioned. I wouldn’t mind looking for some earrings.”
“Cheap or expensive?”
“Definitely cheap.”
We strolled past the jewelry store and into an accessory shop with lots of costume necklaces, bracelets, and earrings.
“These are different,” Di said, holding up a pair of earrings featuring crystal skulls with red eyes.
“Those are definitely you,” I said.
We were the only customers in the store, but we didn’t dare mention possible suspect names out loud. We might be out of Dixie, but we were still within the boundaries of Delbert County.
“Ooh, what about these for your mama?” Di said as she held up a pair of earrings featuring swans with really long necks. “They’d go perfect with the swans in the pond.”
“I’m not sure I should encourage her.”
Di couldn’t decide on earrings, but she ended up buying a cute little denim and rhinestone purse before we left the shop.
“Maybe we could scout for a wedding dress for your mother. What does the bride wear to an outdoor, Viking, gondola, classy hoedown wedding?”
“Beats me, but I’m sure Mama will have some definite ideas about it.”
“Your mama did promise to go with just a simple wedding if you clear Earl’s name.”
“I wouldn’t bank on that. Did I tell you Earl actually asked me to keep Mama occupied with wedding plans so she wouldn’t worry about him? He basically said he wants her to be happy so just give her the wedding she wants and he’ll sign the checks.”
“That’s really sweet,” Di said.
“Yeah, it’s sweet. But it doesn’t make my life any easier. You know I gave up the wedding-planning part of my business because I just couldn’t deal with all the drama. And that was planning weddings for relatively sane, reasonable people.”
“I think you deserve some ice cream,” Di said as we approached the food court.
We each ordered a hot fudge sundae.
“Let’s stroll down to the empty end of the mall, where the JCPenney used to be,” I said.
