“Well, you know that my part of this was to find out what he does for a living. It’s almost as hard. Right now, I’m not able to chase down his grades even. They say that they have no record of him going to the local college. Where else do they think someone like him would go? An Ivy League college? Not fucking likely.” There wasn’t any way that she would have allowed him to go to college if she’d been in charge of him. Why did anyone think that he should be bettering himself when he could barely afford to feed himself? “Also, you’re not going to believe this, but the hospital is saying that if any of us go around there again—sniffing, they said like we were dogs—but if we go sniffing down there again, they’re going to not just call the police, but bar us from being able to be treated there. Like that would happen. I don’t do local any more than you would. Christ, this is a nightmare. Well, I’m at the salon where I have an appointment. I hope they don’t make me look like I’m going to a Halloween party or something equally bad.”
Today? She had to be ready by today? This was going to cost him, Eita thought. When she spoke to Clayton about having Mars change his last name, she was also going to demand that he move out of the country. There just wasn’t enough room around here for him to be taking up space while she was alive.
After fourteen phone calls and being told no, a word that Eita detested, she was no closer to having anything done for her to show up in public. As a last resort, she called the local place that had been around since she’d been dating Clayton. Closing her eyes when Pam’s Ham It Up answered her call, she told them what she needed.
“Oh, sure. We can squeeze you in, Mrs. Wilkerson.” She didn’t even question how she knew her name. She figured that all hair places had a hotline, as she did, to keep track of their customers. “Can you be in soon? I have an opening for all three things you need done right now.”
“Three things?” She told her hair, nails, and makeup. “Oh, no. I do my own makeup. I can handle that part. And just so we’re clear, you’re not going to make me up to be some sort of fool, are you? I won’t pay if you do. I’ve had a really shitty day, and I won’t tolerate you making me the laughing stock of the town.”
“You sure do know how to butter a person up, don’t you? You come on in, and we’ll get you set up for the funeral today. Poor Holly. She was such a wonderful person. Not at all like you are.” Eita thanked her. When the girl at the other end of the call laughed then hung up, Eita didn’t know what to think.
Pulling on her last year’s clothing, she made her way to the parlor. Not a salon, but a parlor. Like they were going to have tea with their hair being fixed up. This had to be the most ludicrous thing that she’d ever had to do, getting her hair fixed by some woman named Pam at Pam’s Ham It Up.
Since they were expecting her, Eita got put right in a chair. After being asked what she wanted, telling the infamous Pam she had a picture of her hair when it was done that she could use, Eita found herself getting her hair washed.
Christ, it was like she was touching all her nerves in her head and calming them. Eita had never had her hair washed with such hard, strong fingers. When she was asked to sit up, with help, her headache that she’d been dealing with for the last several days was suddenly gone. Her ears tingled with renewed blood circulation. Even her hair seemed to have gotten something special from the washing. Eita, in a word, felt wonderful. And she hadn’t even had her hair cut.
Pam didn’t chat with her. Eita told her that she hated small talk, and would not tolerate her bringing her into her family problems. But that didn’t stop her from talking to everyone in the room with her.
Of the five chairs there, three were occupied, including her. Eita watched as the woman sitting next to her chair, pulled a little table over, and began removing the red polish that Eita preferred on her nails. Thinking that she’d be rushed through that part of her parlor experience, she was surprised when both her hands were put into a warm bath. The little bowls were ceramic and prettily made. She thought that they’d look very nice in her own bathroom at home, but didn’t say that to the woman doing her nails. Instead, she made a mental note to look at the bottom before she left and send her maid out to get them. Even if they were cheap.
Pam turned Eita’s back to the mirror, but Eita told her that she wanted to keep an eye on what she was doing. There wasn’t going to be cutting her hair the wrong way so that she’d not be able to go out into public until it had grown out.
“You should really work on your manners. I mean, I have a pair of sharp scissors in my hand, ready to cut your hair, and you’re insulting me.” Pam smiled at her in the mirror. “But then, from what I’ve heard, you don’t know the meaning of treating someone nice, do you? Not even your own sister-in-law.”
“I treat all my sisters-in-law the way I like to be treated, I’ll have you know. We’re the best of friends.” Pam told her that she was talking about Holly. “Holly wasn’t my sister-in-law. She was the worst kind of person, sleeping around and raising a little bastard that we’re all ashamed of.”
Pam looked at her again, and this time Eita could see the anger on her face. She thought that she’d stop cutting her hair, but she only turned her away from the mirror. When Eita demanded that she let her see her job, Pam yanked her chin up so that they were eye to eye.
“Listen, bitch. You keep your mouth shut, and I’ll fix your hair. Otherwise, I’m going to cut only half of it and tell the entire town at the funeral home that you’re nothing but a fucking cunt that needs to be avoided at all cost. And if you think to ruin me, well, you go right ahead and try, you disgusting bitch. I’ve raised nine kids and fostered five more. You don’t want to fuck with me. I don’t give a shit how much money you think you have. Now, shut your trap and let me do my job, or else. I’m not shitting you, Eita, you fuck with me, and you’ll live to regret it. Or not. I don’t care. Sit there and shut up.”
Her nails were no longer pampered. They were taken out of the pretty bowls, and the bowls were put in the trashcan. The woman told her that like her, they were no longer nice, they’d been tainted. When she scrubbed her nails and fingers before drying them, Eita was sure that she’d lost several layers of not just skin, but nail bed as well. This was going to be a major disaster. She was going to look like a horror movie, she knew it. And it was all Marsden’s fault. The little fucker was going to pay for this. She was going to tell him all about it today when she saw him.
Twice she wanted to get out of the chair and leave. It only took one look from the other woman to have her sitting still. There was something so scary about her that Eita figured that she might be possessed or something like that. At the very least, she had to be an ex-con.
Eita figured that she could wear a scarf to the funeral today and that no one had better say a word about it. Getting more and more pissed as she sat there without anyone to complain to, Eita decided that she was going to add this shop to places that she’d shut down.
The florist had been a bust for her—so far anyway. The owner wouldn’t sell no matter how much her attorneys pressed him to do so. Nor did all the personal threats that she’d put on them make a difference to him. Even going so far as to put a bad review on all the spots that she could think of did nothing. There were lines of people there daily after that, and she couldn’t get anyone to get away from it.
However, they had never fallen from her list. Eita’s list had grown over the years to not just include Holly, but anyone that pissed her off. Sometimes she’d sit down and go over the list when she was feeling particularly pissy, and find that she was happy when even one person was crossed off. While she didn’t have anything to do with Holly being killed, she’d taken great pleasure in marking her name off her list.
When her hair was finally finished—or she supposed that was what it meant when they all seemed to just walk away from her—Pam told her how much it would be for her nails and her hair, and she was sure it was going to look just h
ideous. But her nails were beautifully done, not a spot out of place. They were smooth, too, as if they’d been painted by a professional. She’d never say that to anyone here. Nor would she tell her friends where it had been done. They’d never believe that she stepped so low anyway.
The price, far less than a quarter of what she normally paid, was a pittance to her. Paying the woman at the cashier, she didn’t even bother with looking in the mirror. The sooner she got out of here and home so that she could do damage control, the better. Even in the car, she didn’t once look in the rearview mirror, fearful that she’d have an accident and not be able to attend the funeral at all. There wasn’t any way that she was going to let go of this opportunity to embarrass and ridicule Marsden. She wanted a crowd when she told him that none of them were going to pay shit for him. That whatever bills he incurred while planning this without her say so was going on his ass, not hers.
Eita decided that she needed to get away for a little while, just to get her body and her mind back in shape. Two months in a nicer place than Ohio was just what she needed. Do some shopping and spend a great deal of money. She might even tell the others that they were going too. It was time that the women of this family did something for themselves instead of for everyone else that were total fuck ups.
Chapter 5
“My goodness, Eita. You look ten years younger.” Clayton couldn’t believe that this was his wife standing before him. “Whatever you did, you have to continue doing it. You’ve always looked much younger than your age, darling, but right now, you could easily pass for my daughter. People are going to be so jealous.”
Clayton had heard about the trip to town, the way that his wife had insulted Pam and her staff. He’d also heard about how she hadn’t left any tip. Clayton, of course, had had one of his men go right there and leave one for Pam, a hefty tip of several hundred dollars.
All the stories he’d been hearing about Eita and the other women were bothering him in ways that he couldn’t believe. At first, several years ago, he’d heard an occasional rumor about his wife or one of the others. But of late, it had been several times a week—almost daily, as a matter of fact. And now this with Holly.
No one told him directly, of course, what Eita and the others were doing. He had his own spies working with their ears to the ground. He was disturbed about some of the things that people were saying Eita had done to the funeral director’s niece, Abby. There were others too, but that one bothered him to no end. And even though it had happened over five years ago, he still heard stories about how Eita hadn’t gotten her way and had taken it out on the young woman that was an employee of the little shop.
It had taken him months to keep her from shutting down the florist that he used when he wanted or even needed to get Eita flowers. He liked the people there. The owner and he had been buddies since they’d been in grammar school together. Leaning back in the limo while Eita talked on her cell, he thought about the list of things that he was still to this day looking into about his wife and in-laws.
In addition to what had happened, or what he’d heard had happened, to Abby and the hairdresser, there were other things as well. Two weeks ago, Eita had trashed an entire shop in Columbus because they had suggested that she might want to try on a larger size than she’d tried on. He had no idea why that had caused such a rage at the tune of several hundred thousand dollars, but he’d had to pay it, without an itemized list, or she would have been taken to jail.
Then there was the trouble that she’d caused at a birthday party. Eita had just shown up at a little boy’s party, berated all the food that was being served, and made the parent as well as the little boy cry. Clayton was still trying to figure out why she’d been there in the first place. All she told him was that she was a Wilkerson and that she should be able to go anywhere she wanted. Clayton thought that his wife was off her noodle.
“Are you even listening to me?” Clayton smiled, not committing himself to anything that would piss her off again. “I said that we should have left an hour ago. Now because Marsden set things up without my permission or say so, I have to arrive after he does. I don’t know why he thought that he had any right to plan anything. His kind doesn’t have a cent to their name.”
“It was his mom, darling.” The look, the glare, told him he’d be sleeping someplace else tonight and not his own room. Which he never understood. She never slept in the same room as he did. Why was she able to get him to sleep in another part of the house like she was in the room too? So far as he knew, when he was banished, no one slept there. Plus, he had to travel down to the room to get his clothing in the morning, because heaven forbid he got to take anything of his out of the room for the next day.
The driver told them that he’d have to drop them off, as the lot seemed to be unusually full. Of course, Eita objected, telling him that he’d park then open the door for the two of them. After what seemed like half an hour, she told the driver that he should have told them that the parking lot was packed and there wasn’t any place for him to park the stretch limo.
Getting out first, Clayton reached into the limo to hand her out. She was fussing with her clothing as they entered when he saw his nephews. North wasn’t with them that he could see. Nor was Marsden. But the young woman Abby was there, looking as tastefully dressed as he’d ever seen anyone her age dressed.
“There must be another funeral going on. This is why he should never have been in charge, Clayton. He’s overbooked the place, and now we’ll all be scrambling to get a parking place when we come here. We’re going to be doing this three times, no less.” She nearly stumbled, and he caught her before any real damage was done. “Will you watch where you’re dragging me to? My gracious, Clayton, are you drunk?”
Her voice was loud, and he saw several people turn toward them when she finished. Even Abby and his nephews turned to look. Before he could wave at them, tell them hello, and that he was glad to see them, they each stood up, turned their backs to them, and walked to the back of the funeral home. Clayton hadn’t been sure what to expect with the kids, but that certainly was a little hurtful. He looked at his wife.
“I don’t drink, and you well know that. Keep your voice down, or so help me, Evelyn, I will sit in the limo and wait for you to come back out. I will not tolerate you treating me like one of your staff.”
She must have believed him because she didn’t say another word.
As soon as they entered the funeral home, Clayton knew that his wife had been wrong about a great many things concerning Marsden and his mother’s funeral.
“We’re here for the Holly Wilkerson funeral.” The gentleman at the front door told her that she was in the large chapel. “What about the other funeral you have going on? I would have thought they’d have been there. I’m not paying for the extra if that’s what Marsden said to you.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, ma’am. But there is only the Wilkerson funeral today. I’m afraid that you’re much too late for the viewing. Mars had the casket closed an hour ago.”
Before Eita could argue with the man, Clayton pulled her along with him. Clayton didn’t want to have to go bail her out of jail or pay the man’s hospital bill. Right now, he only wanted to sit down with Eita and calm her somehow.
“Did you hear what he said? Marsden closed the casket. He can’t do that. I didn’t get to look her over.” Clayton asked her why she thought that she needed to do that. “She’s dead, isn’t she? What if he buried her with something that belongs to the big house? Our things. I swear, Clayton, you never think beyond your nose at times. I’m betting that the entire casket is full of all the missing things from the house.”
“What missing things? There is nothing missing. And if Holly does have something that she got from our parents, she has every right to it. If she wanted to toss it, which I would have, then that would have been for her to decide.”
Thankfully E
ita told him to leave her alone. Something was wrong with her, and he needed to figure it out soon.
Getting up, leaving her right where she was seated, he made his way around the room. No one was speaking to him, which didn’t bother him overly much. When he got to the casket, he couldn’t help but think that his baby sister was in it and that she had died much too young. Putting his hand on the beautiful oak, Clayton couldn’t fault Marsden for choosing something so beautiful for his mom. If given the chance, he would have done the same thing.
“Dad.” He turned and looked at North. Pulling him to him for a much needed hug, he felt foolish when North didn’t return it. Clayton pulled back and apologized. “What are you doing here? I don’t think that Mars thought that any of you would want to show up.”
“Holly was my sister. Why wouldn’t we be here?” Instead of answering him, North looked at his mom. He did, as well. Eita was with the other women, all of them dressed, he just realized, in varying shade of bright red. Why would they do that? “Did something happen that I need to be made aware of? With your mother, I mean?”
“You mean today or since last night?” North was looking at him when Clayton turned back to him. “Keep her away from me, Father. My best friend in the entire world has just lost his mother, and I won’t have her making a scene as she’s done several times since Aunt Holly passed away. I’m serious about this. I’m a grown man, and I will not hesitate to put her in her place if she so much as tries to hurt Abby either.”
Marsden (Wilkerson Dynasty Book 1) Page 6
