Suddenly, somebody was holding her, pinning her arms to her side.
“Mary Bliss. Stop. Mary Bliss. Get ahold of yourself.”
It was Charlie. He was barefoot. Dressed in baggy blue pajama bottoms and an undershirt. His hair was mussed and he was unshaven. He had his arms wrapped around her, pushing her gently away from her victim. She was so blind with pent-up rage, she hadn’t even seen him run into the room.
“Come on, now,” Charlie said soothingly. “Leave him be. Leave him be.”
“He’s ruined everything,” she said, dissolving into tears. “He was supposed to be dead. And now he ate the chicken salad. Let me kill him, Charlie. Just please let me kill him.”
“No, no,” Charlie said, gently stroking her hair. “No killing. Killing is bad.”
He looked over at Dinky, who was standing by the back door, dabbing at his bloodied face with a kitchen towel.
“Who the hell are you?” Charlie asked, his voice cold and imperious.
“Hey, man,” Dinky protested. “Who are you? I’m a friend of Katharine’s. This chick came in here this morning, and she freaked out. She beat the shit out of me. For nothin’. She’s fuckin’ nuts. I want her arrested.”
“I’m Katharine’s husband. This is my house,” Charlie said. “I think you’d better leave.”
“No way,” Dinky said, his voice menacing. “Katharine invited me. She’s gonna help me get a job. I ain’t going nowhere.”
Charlie’s eyes hardened. He looked around the room, his eyes lighting on a bottle of Smirnoff vodka sitting on the kitchen counter. V8 juice was spilled on the countertop. Nearby, an elaborate waterpipe rested atop a plastic bag of dried leaves.
“What’s that?” Charlie asked, pointing at the bag and the pipe.
“What?” Dinky said, wide-eyed. “That ain’t mine.”
Charlie released Mary Bliss, walked over to the counter, and picked up the pipe and the bag. “This. Marijuana and drug-related paraphernalia.” He held the bag in one hand, hefting it, giving it some thought. “Probably about six ounces, I’d say. In this state, that amount will get you possession with intent to distribute.”
He reached for the phone. “On second thought. Stay right there. I’m just going to give the police a call. See what they think.” He pointed at the back door. “And that door looks like it’s been jimmied. So that’s breaking and entering.”
“Hold on, dude,” Dinky said. “Let’s talk about this. I never broke in here. Katharine invited me in. See, me and her got a deal. And this chick, man, she’s the one you wanna talk to the cops about. The chick’s working a scam. Plus, she tried to kill me. That should count for something.”
“Mary Bliss,” Charlie said, his face stern. “Have you ever seen this man before?”
“No,” Mary Bliss said, her voice faint. “Never.”
“And did you try to kill him just now?”
“Not really,” Mary Bliss said. “I was coming over this morning to pick up my chicken salad. For the wedding I’m catering. And he was here. He must have broken in, because he was right here in this kitchen. I think he must be drunk. And on drugs. Because he attacked me. I was trying to fight him off when you came downstairs.”
“She’s fuckin’ nuts,” Dinky wailed. “See? I’m the one who’s bleeding. The chick tried to kill me.”
“In self-defense,” Charlie said. “So, let’s see. I can have you charged with breaking and entering, aggravated assault, and possession with intent to distribute.”
“And don’t forget the chicken salad,” Mary Bliss said. “He ate two hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of my chicken salad.”
“Felony burglary,” Charlie said, nodding with satisfaction. He picked up the phone again.
“Fuck it,” Dinky said, throwing down the bloodied kitchen towel. “I’m outta here.”
57
Mary Bliss collapsed onto a kitchen chair. Charlie sat down beside her. A short time later, Katharine drifted in, fully dressed, and began making the coffee.
“Well,” Mary Bliss said, exchanging worried looks with Katharine. “I guess I better load up what’s left of my chicken salad and head home.”
“What’s your hurry?” Charlie asked. He was trying to smooth out the pages of the morning paper.
“The caterer is coming at nine to pick it up,” Mary Bliss said. “And he’s going to write me a check too.”
Charlie checked his wristwatch. “It’s only quarter of. Plenty of time to fill me in on who that man was and what the hell he was doing in my house.”
Katharine switched on the coffee grinder and let it run a minute longer than was absolutely necessary.
Charlie folded the newspaper into a neat rectangle. “I’m waiting,” he announced.
Katharine shot Mary Bliss a look.
“All right,” Mary Bliss said. “I’m the one who got us into this, so I guess I’ll be the one to explain.”
“All of it,” Charlie prompted.
“His name is Dinky Davis,” Mary Bliss started. “And we thought he was dead. But he’s not.”
“I see,” Charlie said. “There seems to be a lot of reincarnation around here.”
“You can’t blame it all on Mary Bliss,” Katharine said. “I’m the one who hired him to impersonate Parker.”
“But I’m the one who went out on the boat with him,” Mary Bliss said. “And I’m the one who paid for the death certificate.”
“I gave her the money,” Katharine said.
Charlie’s head swiveled from left to right. From Katharine to Mary Bliss.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You went down to Cozumel, wandered around, hired a complete stranger, that degenerate, to impersonate Parker? Then you staged some botched-up boating accident, all in an effort to collect on Parker’s life insurance?” He shook his head. “I’m stunned. I really am. I knew there was something going on, but I never dreamed the two of you would attempt something as imbecilic—not to mention criminal and downright dangerous—as this.”
Mary Bliss hung her head. Katharine sipped her coffee for a minute.
“It almost worked,” Katharine said finally. “And it would have worked. How did we know he would get drunk and crash the boat? It was a really beautiful plan, Charlie. Mary Bliss was going to let him off the boat—”
Charlie stopped her. “I don’t want to hear another word. I’m an officer of the court. And what you’re talking about is fraud. You could both go to prison.”
Mary Bliss sighed. “I’m sorry I got Katharine mixed up in this, Charlie. And I’m sorry you got mixed up too. And I’m really, really sorry Dinky Davis showed up here last night.” She raised her chin. “But I’ll tell you what I’m most sorry about. I’m sorry it wasn’t really Parker on that boat.”
“You don’t mean that,” Charlie said, patting her hand. “You’re just upset.”
“No,” Mary Bliss said. “Parker took everything. Robbed me. Robbed Erin. If he wanted a divorce, I think I could have handled that. But he didn’t do that. He snuck out in the middle of the night. Like a common thief. I guess I made some stupid choices. But I didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t leave me any choices.”
Charlie folded the newspaper and set it aside. “I wish you’d talked to me. You could have told me the truth. We would have figured out something.”
“Like what?” Mary Bliss asked. “Parker did a great job. He put me in a hole so deep, I could never dig myself out. Not legally, anyway.”
“Legally is the key word,” Charlie said. “Parker didn’t defraud just you. He defrauded the mortgage company when he did that refinance. He falsified your signature on that power of attorney, so it’s not a valid document.”
Mary Bliss did a double take. “You mean, I don’t owe them the whole seven hundred thousand dollars?”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Charlie said. “I should be able to get the company to stop the repossession action, after I present them with your affidavit about the phony power o
f attorney. The signature on it definitely isn’t yours.”
“That’s it?” Mary Bliss said, her voice rising. She giggled. “That’s all it takes? I get to keep my house?” She jumped up and kissed Charlie on the top of the head.
“Charlie Weidman, if Katharine doesn’t take you back, I’ll marry you my own self.”
Charlie pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you forgetting something? You’re still married to Parker McGowan. And he’s out there. Somewhere.”
That sobered her up again.
“God, what a mess I’ve made of things,” she said, slumping down into her chair. “Even if I get to keep the house, how do I undo everything else? How do I tell Erin the truth? That her lying, thieving daddy isn’t dead after all. He’s just on the lam.”
Katharine poured Mary Bliss a cup of coffee. “Guess what my mama always said was true.”
“What did your mama always say?” Charlie asked.
“That it’s easy to squeeze the toothpaste out. It’s gettin’ it back in that’s the killer.”
“That may be the only thing Mamie was ever right about,” Charlie said. “That and her chicken salad. And her martini. Mamie could mix a mean dirty martini.”
“The chicken salad!” Mary Bliss jumped up again. “I almost forgot. That caterer will be at the house any minute. And I’m ten pounds short. What’ll I do?”
Katharine didn’t miss a beat. “Do what Mama did. One time, Daddy came home from work and he saw a bowl of that chicken salad in the icebox. He ate half the bowl, not realizing Mama was having bridge club the next day. She liked to have killed him.”
“But what did she do?” Mary Bliss asked.
“She got out her best silver platter and loaded it up high with pretty lettuce leaves. Then she threw in a lot more mayonnaise and chopped pecans and green grapes and sliced water chestnuts. Nobody knew the difference.”
Mary Bliss thought it over. “That would work, I guess. Or, I could just tell the caterer the truth—that I’m about five pounds short.”
“The truth,” Charlie said dryly. “That would be a novelty for you. What about the real issue, Mary Bliss? Are you ready to come clean about Parker? With the insurance company? And Erin, of course.”
Mary Bliss had taken a head of lettuce from Katharine’s refrigerator and was already slicing it into thin ribbons. “I can’t talk to Erin. We had a huge fight after I went through her things and found out she’s been sleeping with Josh Bowden. She left and she hasn’t been back, except to pick up clean clothes. She blames me for everything, including losing her daddy.”
“You know what the answer to all this is, don’t you?” Charlie asked. “We have to find Parker. Make him come home and deal with this mess he’s created.”
“How?” Mary Bliss asked. “Just tell me how to find him.”
“Matt Hayslip,” Charlie said. “He’s a smart sumbitch. He’s got a couple of leads. He tracked down those bank photos, and he’s established a money trail. I really believe he can find Parker.”
“No,” Mary Bliss said flatly. “I don’t want anything to do with that man. I mean it, Charlie. I’d just as soon leave things the way they are. I don’t want that man messing in my business.”
“That man?” Katharine said, raising an eyebrow.
“I mean it, you two,” Mary Bliss said, giving them both a stern look. “Leave Matt Hayslip out of it.”
“You may not have a choice in the matter,” Charlie pointed out. “He doesn’t work for you, remember? And I get the feeling he is a very determined kind of guy.”
58
The days thudded by. Mary Bliss worked every shift she could get at Bargain Bonanza. One day she demonstrated Frozen Tooty-Frooty Tofutti, which went over like a screen door in a submarine; the next day, she cooked so many boxes of Microwave Ginger-Honey Chik’n Bitz that she lost count.
She’d fixed two more fifty-pound batches of chicken salad for Gerran Thomas’s weddings. She promised herself she’d never eat chicken again.
After a week Erin reappeared at home. Just like that. One morning, Mary Bliss came downstairs and Erin was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a Coke.
“Hey!” Mary Bliss said, swooping down to kiss her daughter.
“Hey,” Erin said quietly. She did not return the kiss.
“Honey, we need to talk,” Mary Bliss started. “I’m so sorry I’ve made such a hash of things. I hate fighting with you. I hate having you mad at me. You’re all I have left. We girls have to stick together…”
Erin shoved her chair back abruptly. “I gotta go. I’m late for work. And I’ve got soccer camp after that.”
Mary Bliss caught hold of Erin’s pocketbook as she was swinging it onto her shoulder. “Erin, just give me five minutes. We really need to talk. It’s pretty important.”
Erin stopped dead in her tracks. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said flatly. “I live here. You live here. That’s it. Just leave me alone and we’ll get along fine. Okay?”
“It’s about Daddy,” Mary Bliss started.
“Just shut up!” Erin screamed. “No more goddamned lies! I won’t listen to you. I won’t.”
She stomped out of the kitchen and a minute later Mary Bliss heard the Honda screech out of the driveway.
The phone rang. Mary Bliss let the answering machine pick up.
It was Matt Hayslip. Again. He’d called every day for the past two weeks. The message was the same. He wanted to see her. He needed to talk to her. He wanted to help.
“No more help,” Mary Bliss told the machine. “Not from you, anyway.”
But she would take all the help she could get from Charlie Weidman. He was still staying at Katharine’s house. Mary Bliss knew he’d moved out of the basement and back into the master bedroom, but Katharine was staying uncharacteristically quiet about the nature of their relationship.
Charlie had started to put weight on again. His color was better, and he was going in to his law office four days a week now. He’d been in negotiations with the mortgage company. Mary Bliss had signed depositions stating that she’d never given Parker her power of attorney, and that she never would have consented to a cash-out mortgage on her house.
The bankers seemed to believe her. There was just one hitch. Parker had their money. And they wanted it back.
“Join the club,” Mary Bliss had told Charlie. “I want my money back too. But I don’t have a clue where Parker could have gone.”
She didn’t, either. The only person who might know was her mother-in-law.
But her last visit with Eula had been truly awful. Eula was really sick this time. The doctors said she was in kidney failure. They wanted her to undergo dialysis, but Eula wasn’t about to spend her last days hooked up to a machine.
“Probably pump me full of poisons,” she said, glaring maliciously at Lillian King, who was attempting to coax Eula into taking her medicine.
“Now, Miz Eula, you know that’s not true. Your doctors want you to feel better, that’s all,” Lillian King said.
“The new doctor’s an Ay-rab,” Eula told Mary Bliss. “That’s all they get working in here. Ay-rabs and nigger girls and Chinks.”
Mary Bliss was mortified, but Lillian King just laughed off the insult. “You callin’ me a girl, Miz Eula? That’s mighty good of you.”
When the nurse was gone, Mary Bliss closed the door to the hallway.
“Meemaw,” she said, taking a seat close to the bed. “I need to talk to you. About Parker.”
“He’s dead,” Eula said. “Or so you say.”
“He stole a lot of money from some people,” Mary Bliss said. “Not just me. Other people. A mortgage company. His business associates. There are detectives looking for him.”
Eula snorted. “Detectives? Do they think they can outsmart my boy? You know what Parker was famous for when he was just a little boy? Hide and seek. He could hide so good, none of the other children could ever find him. They’d just give up and go
on home. Anyway, my son is no thief. That’s just more of your lies. To try to get money out of me.”
“No,” Mary Bliss said, shaking her head. “It’s not about the money. It’s about Erin. I’m worried about her. Since Parker disappeared, she’s different. Moody, sullen. She won’t even talk to me.”
“The child is fine,” Eula snapped. “I’m the one who’s dying. And nobody around here seems to give a hoot and a holler. I hurt all the time. My bowels are either locked tighter than Dick’s hatband or I’m spewing all kinds of nasty stuff. You know they got me wearing a diaper? A grown woman wearing a diaper!”
“I’m sorry you’re in pain,” Mary Bliss said simply. She got up to leave and felt she’d aged ten years since she’d walked in the door of Meemaw’s room. She squeezed Eula’s hand, tried to plant a kiss on her cheek, but Eula turned away.
“I’ll see you next week,” Mary Bliss said.
“If I’m still alive,” Eula shot back.
Mary Bliss drove home holding her breath. They’d had no rain in two weeks. It was in the upper nineties, and heat shimmered off the asphalt pavement. She didn’t dare turn on the air conditioning. Her car was making a whirring sound under the hood, but she didn’t get paid until Friday, and all her credit cards had long since maxed out. She patted the dashboard. “Stay with me, baby. Don’t you quit on me too.”
As she coasted into her driveway, the whole car seemed to shudder, and then it stopped. All the lights on the dashboard lit up.
“Shit,” she said. The car shuddered again. She stroked the steering wheel. “I didn’t mean that. Don’t mind me. I’m just mad at the world.”
“You always talk to your car?”
Mary Bliss startled. Matt Hayslip was standing right beside the car.
“Only when I’ve given up on talking to humanity,” she said.
He poked his head in the window, ignoring the cold stare she was giving him.
“Try and start it up again,” he said.
Little Bitty Lies Page 31
