“I hear that,” Arthur said approvingly.
I grinned. I had been a little worried the first time I brought my Northerner boyfriend to meet my family, but he had charmed them all. “Just plain folks,” had been the final verdict.
“So how are things up your way?” Vasti asked. “Are you still teaching school, Richard?”
“Richard doesn’t just lecture,” I said sharply. “He’s also writing articles. His paper discussing the third murderer in Macbeth was just accepted for publication.”
“Is there much money in that?” Arthur asked.
“Not a penny,” Richard said.
“Scholarly journals don’t actually pay,” I added. “You write papers for the prestige and to get noticed. That’s how you get tenure and research grants.”
“Not to mention the spread of knowledge,” Richard said.
I sighed inwardly. When would I learn not to get so defensive when I was in Byerly? “It’s a very important paper,” I said lamely.
“Isn’t that interesting?” Vasti said, but her expression said plainly that she wasn’t the least bit interested. “Have y’all seen Thaddeous yet? I hear that he’s bringing a date.”
“News does spread quickly,” I said. “I don’t think they’re here yet, but I’m getting pretty curious.”
“Curious?” Vasti said. “That’s not the half of it. If he brought her to the reunion, he must be planning to marry her.”
“Now don’t you go telling that poor girl about the Burnette curse,” Arthur said. “You’ll scare her off.”
Vasti frowned. “It’s not a curse—it’s a tradition. It worked out all right for you, didn’t it?”
“I’m not complaining,” Arthur said quickly.
“You know,” Richard said speculatively, “I’ve been thinking about this tradition. Now the way I understand it, if a non–Burnette comes to the reunion, he or she ends up married into the family. Right?”
“That’s how it works,” I said.
“Do they always marry the one that brought them, or do they get to pick and choose?”
Arthur hooted. “Pick and choose! That’s a good one.” He slapped Richard soundly on the shoulder. “Richard, you’re all right for a Yankee.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Richard acknowledged.
Just then Vasti gasped. “Oh my goodness!”
“What?” I turned in the direction she was staring. Our Great–Aunt Maggie had arrived, and she had dressed to impress. In her own way, that is. She was wearing her usual blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, but her sneakers were the really impressive part of the ensemble. They were hot pink high tops with purple tiger stripes.
She came over. “Hey there, Vasti. Now isn’t that a pretty outfit you’ve got on.”
“Why thank you, Aunt Maggie,” Vasti said, but she just couldn’t make herself pronounce the return compliment that good manners demanded.
“You look very nice, too,” I finally said.
Aunt Maggie snickered. “Laurie Anne, your mama taught you right, you know that. I was going to wear a dress but I couldn’t find not one thing in my closet that was fitting to wear, and I didn’t see the point of buying something I wasn’t going to wear but the once.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“I love your shoes,” Richard said, and darned if he wasn’t serious.
Aunt Maggie held up one foot so he could get a closer look. “They got a whole batch of them down at the Thrift Store, brand new, and they only charged me four dollars for them. I couldn’t pass that up. What’s your shoe size, Richard? I could see if they’ve got a pair that will fit you.”
“I wear a ten,” Richard said.
I could just see him wearing shoes like that to lecture on Shakespeare at Boston College. He was never going to get tenure at that rate.
“How about you, Laurie Anne?” Aunt Maggie said.
“No, thanks. I just bought a new pair of sneakers.” Then, to change the subject, I asked, “Have you been here long?”
“Nope, just got here. I swear I don’t see hardly a soul that I recognize. I don’t know why I come to this thing anyway. I have to pay rent for my booth even if I don’t show up.” Aunt Maggie usually spent her weekends at the local flea market, selling paperback books and all kinds of knick–knacks.
“I’m sure folks will be glad to see you,” I said.
“If they’re so all fired glad to see me, why don’t they come visit instead of waiting until the reunion to hug onto me. Besides, I didn’t bring anything to eat, and I shouldn’t show up empty–handed.”
“There’s plenty of food here already. And no matter how much you fuss, I know you enjoy the reunion.”
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Aunt Maggie admitted. “It is right nice to see all of us in one place. Those of us that are left, anyway.”
I nodded, knowing she was thinking about her brother, my grandfather. The last time I had come to Byerly was when Paw was in the hospital, the victim of a brutal attack. When he died, Richard and I had set about finding out who killed him.
“Well,” Aunt Maggie said, “I think I’ll go see if there are any other old folks around. I’ll talk to y’all later.” Then she said to Vasti, “Have you got any more of those buttons for Arthur? I forgot to put mine on.”
I know Vasti was trying to decide whether or not she wanted Aunt Maggie to wear a button with those sneakers, but she smiled and said, “Of course. Here you go, Aunt Maggie.”
Aunt Maggie pinned it on, winked at me, and headed into the crowd.
Once she was gone, Vasti said, “Arthur, if I ever start dressing like that, I want you to lock me up in the nut house and throw away the key.”
I said, “Vasti, you know she only wears sneakers like that to get a rise out of people. If you’d quit noticing, she’d quit wearing them.”
“How on earth could I not notice those shoes?” Then Vasti gasped again, even more dramatically, and said, “And would you look at that!”
“Now what?” But this time, I couldn’t blame her for her being taken aback. Our cousin Thaddeous, as usual the tallest man in the room, had just come inside the hall with a woman on his arm. And what a woman she was.
“Can you believe what she’s wearing?” Vasti said in a shocked tone.
Obviously Thaddeous had not told Joleen what people wore to the reunion. The men were in suits, and other than Aunt Maggie, who was old enough to make her own rules, the women were wearing nice dresses. In contrast, Joleen had poured herself into a pair of blue jeans and wriggled into a bright red tube top that didn’t look like it was quite up to the strain. The only thing that kept the outfit decent was the thin cotton shirt she had put on over the tube top. Though it was unbuttoned, it was tied around her waist and at least covered some of her freckled pulchritude.
“Does she really think she’s fooling anyone?” Vasti asked. “Her hair has got to be dyed.”
Dyed or natural, her red curls were impressive, especially the way she had teased them up several inches above her head.
I guess Thaddeous saw us watching, because he smiled and came our way. He was smitten all right. I could tell from the way he was walking that he thought this lady was the best thing since sliced bread.
“How’s everybody doing? Good to see you two in town,” Thaddeous said, and exchanged hugs with me and Richard.
“Joleen, I want you to meet my cousin Laurie Anne Fleming and her husband Richard.”
“Just Laura,” I said, knowing that it was a losing battle.
Thaddeous went on. “And this is my cousin Vasti Bumgarner and her husband Arthur. This is Joleen Dodd.”
“Hey,” Joleen chirped.
“Nice to meet you, Joleen,” I said, and Richard said something comparable.
“Joleen,” Arthur said, drawing the name out. “That’s an awful pretty name. Wasn’t there a Dolly Parton song about a lady named Joleen?”
“I believe there was,” Vasti said sweetly. “The Joleen in tha
t song was a homewrecker, wasn’t she?”
“I guess that song was before my time,” Joleen said, smiling just as nicely as Vasti was.
It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but I couldn’t really hold it against Joleen. Vasti did tend to bring out the worst in people.
“Vasti, it looks like you’ve fallen down on the job,” Arthur said. “Thaddeous doesn’t have a button.”
“You are so right,” Vasti said, and produced yet another one.
“And how about one for Joleen?” Arthur added.
“I don’t think Joleen has anyplace to put one, Arthur,” Vasti said.
“That’s all right,” Joleen said. “I’ll pin it onto my pocketbook strap.”
Vasti had to hand her one after that.
We chatted for a few minutes, and then Thaddeous said, “Well, if y’all will excuse us, I want to go introduce Joleen to some of the rest of the folks.” He strutted off, Joleen on his arm.
Arthur said, “Come on, Richard. I bet these two want to have a little girl talk.”
“Then let us make an honourable retreat.”
That sounded suspiciously Shakespearean to me, but at least Richard omitted the attribution as he and Arthur retreated.
I wish I could say I was above idle gossip, but I wasn’t. I wanted to talk about Joleen nigh about as much as Vasti did.
“Can you believe that?” Vasti said. “I have never seen anything like that at the Burnette reunion. I’m pure ashamed for her to be wearing one of Arthur’s buttons.”
“Well, every vote helps,” I said. “I just can’t imagine Thaddeous dating a woman like that.”
“When it comes to women, men don’t have the sense God gave a milk cow,” Vasti said with far more cynicism than her age allowed for. “They think with what’s in their britches, not with their heads.” She shook her head ruefully. “I don’t know if I can ever call that one ‘Cousin.’ ”
“Come on, Vasti. We’ve just met her. She may be very nice. I mean underneath it all.”
“Laurie Anne, with what she’s wearing, there’s nothing underneath that we can’t see.”
I resisted the impulse to giggle. “Besides, we don’t know that Thaddeous is serious about her.”
“Then why did he bring her here?”
I had no answer for that. Thaddeous knew the family tradition as well as we did. No wonder Aunt Nora was concerned.
“Look!” Vasti said. “She’s going to the bathroom. Come on!”
I’d like to be able to say that I only went along because of the death–grip Vasti had on my elbow, but to tell the truth, I was fairly curious myself.
Joleen was in one of the stalls by the time we got in there, so Vasti and I killed time by pulling out brushes and working on our hair. After a minute, Joleen joined us and somehow managed to tease her bangs into standing up just a little bit higher.
“I just cannot get my hair to do right today,” Joleen said. “It won’t stand up worth a flip.”
Actually I thought Joleen could teach a few things about hair to the punks who stood around Harvard Square, but knowing that this would not be considered complimentary, I settled for saying, “I know what you mean.”
I was counting on Vasti to subtly bring up the subject of Joleen’s relationship with Thaddeous, and I didn’t have long to wait.
“So Joleen,” Vasti said, “have you and Thaddeous been dating long?”
That was about as subtle as Vasti ever got.
Joleen said, “Not really, but I’ve had my eye on him for a while now. I finally got him to ask me out this weekend, and when he told me about your reunion, I let him know right quick that he could bring me along if he wanted to.”
I was impressed. I couldn’t think of anything that would induce me to come to someone else’s family reunion. Coming to my own was bad enough.
Joleen plucked one last hair into place, and said, “You know Laurie Anne, I hear you and I have something in common.”
“What’s that?” I asked. It certainly wasn’t our figures, I thought ruefully. Hers was much bigger than mine in all the favored places.
“Computers. You know about computers, don’t you?”
“I’m a programmer, mostly database management stuff.” I modestly refrained from mentioning my degree from MIT.
Joleen went on, “I use a computer in the office up at the mill.”
“No kidding. What kind of system are you working with?”
“Just a little one. What do they call it? A PC? Mr. Walters has me type up his memos with it.”
“Those are nice,” I said politely. Trust Burt Walters to buy a computer and then use it as a glorified typewriter.
“Sometimes I think it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Always crashing and stuff, and then I have to start all over again.”
“They can be ornery,” I agreed.
“You know, Laurie Anne,” she said in a confidential tone, “I’ve been having a little trouble with my computer. Maybe while you’re in town you could come by the mill and take a look?”
“Maybe,” I said vaguely.
She put her comb away. “Well, I better go find Thad before he thinks I’ve run out on him.”
“Thad?” I said to Vasti as soon as Joleen was gone. I had never known Thaddeous to allow anyone to call him anything short of his full name. But then, I had never known him to date anyone quite like Joleen before.
Vasti shrugged her shoulders. “Men are so stupid,” was all she said.
Once out of the ladies room, we spotted our husbands in a cluster of other young men. As we approached, I heard someone saying, “Pick and choose? I’d sure like to pick and choose!” There was some hearty male laughing, which dwindled when they saw me and Vasti. Vasti gave me a look that said as plain as day, “Didn’t I tell you that men are stupid?”
Richard extricated himself from the group and joined me while Vasti went to pull Arthur away and hand out more buttons. “Having a good time?” I asked.
“Very nice. How about you? Have you obtained any information on Joleen yet?”
“Not much yet, but give Vasti another hour or so.”
“You are, of course, above such concerns.”
I stuck my tongue out at him in reply. “Who shall we mingle with now?”
“Actually, I think they’re about to start serving lunch,” he said.
Sure enough, women were trotting to and fro placing platters and bowls on a line of tables down the center of the room. A line of eager Burnettes was already starting to form, and we took a place at the end.
Though everybody insists that we Burnettes get together each year purely for companionship and that the meal is only for convenience, the amount of time that goes into preparing the food tells the real story. Though there is no formal competition, I’ve heard more than one aunt crow when her dish was the first one emptied and others looking crestfallen when they had leftovers to take home.
Richard and I did our best to make sure nobody felt left out. I loaded my plate with ham, fried chicken, pulled pork barbeque, macaroni and cheese, snap beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, cole slaw, a hunk of cornbread, and one of Aunt Nora’s biscuits. The lasagna Richard and I had brought was gone before I could get any.
“I guess I’ll have to come back for dessert,” I said once my plate was stacked as high as I could manage.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Richard said, looking at his plate.
“You can suit yourself, but I’m not about to pass up Aunt Daphine’s apple cobbler.” I looked around at the rapidly filling tables. “Tell you what. Give me your plate and I’ll find us a place to sit while you go get us some iced tea.”
Richard agreed, handed me his plate, and I snagged the last empty table. I wasn’t alone for long, because Vasti appeared almost instantly.
“I found out all about Joleen Dodd,” she said triumphantly.
“What did you find out?” I asked.
“Joleen and her mama only moved here about three months ago. They�
�re from somewhere in South Carolina, but they left town in a hurry because the mama is in the middle of a nasty divorce. Her third husband, by the way, and not Joleen’s father. Burt Walters hired Joleen right away and made her receptionist even though there were three local girls applying for the job. I think we can guess why.” She raised her eyebrows significantly. “Everybody is surprised that she’s dating Thaddeous, because the men she’s been dating up to now have all had a whole lot more money than any Burnette.” She tried to look modest when she added, “Except for me and Arthur, of course.”
“Maybe that means she really likes him,” I ventured. “Thaddeous is an awfully nice fellow.”
“Laurie Anne, I don’t think ‘nice’ is what Joleen Dodd is looking for. In three months she’s already made herself quite a reputation.”
“You found all that out in a hurry,” I said, pretty impressed.
“Actually, I knew part of it already. I just didn’t realize who Joleen is because of her last name. Joleen’s mama is Dorinda Thompson, who works for my mama down at the beauty parlor. And with these two, like mother, like daughter.”
“Dorinda can’t be too bad,” I said, “or Aunt Daphine wouldn’t have her working for her.”
Vasti just shrugged. “Mama hasn’t been feeling too well lately.”
Richard arrived with our iced tea right about then.
“Is it terribly crowded over by the drinks?” Vasti asked him. “I am so thirsty, but I haven’t been able to get anywhere near there.”
“Why don’t you—” Richard began to say.
I nudged him under the table and interrupted with, “Why don’t you go check, Vasti? I’m sure the crowd will have died down by now.”
“I suppose I’m going to have to,” she said, giving Richard another chance to offer her his iced tea. By now Richard had taken my hint, and took a long swallow himself. “I guess I’ll see you two later,” she said and headed for the side of the room away from the drinks.
“I could have given her my drink,” Richard said once she was gone.
“I know you could have, and with just about anybody else I would expect you to, but you know how Vasti is. If you got her a drink, then she’d want you to go get her food. If she had her way, she’d never have to tend to herself.”
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 02 - Dead Ringer Page 2
