Raspberry Crush

by Jill Winters

  "Why, what did you take away from it?"

  "I don't know; it just doesn't make any sense," Billy said, pulling her crocheted mittens out of her coat pocket and slipping them on. Already she felt her nose and cheeks burning a little from the cold. "If Ted was really concerned that someone from his past was after him, like he told Claudia, why would he just show up at the town square, getting stupidly drunk, like he didn't have a care in the world? Why wasn't he more careful? More guarded?"

  "Maybe he didn't expect whoever was after him to be at the jubilee," Seth said. "Or maybe the line he fed both Claudia and your aunt was complete shit; no offense."

  "But if he was murdered, then someone had to be after him," Billy countered. "The same person who's after me now..." She shuddered as she said the words, and dark worries swam in the back of her mind, but this was nothing new, because mortality was her albatross. Seth put his hands on her shoulders affectionately, and when Billy looked up into his face, her eyes searched his. "And that's another thing. I keep thinking about what Joe said. That the person threatening me is probably someone I know, like a friend or a coworker...."

  Her voice trailed off as a sudden, jarring thought occurred to her. One that was just too crazy. "Oh, my God," Billy mumbled. "Oh, my God!"

  "What?" Seth said anxiously, his eyes sharpening as they bored into hers. "Billy, what are you thinking?"

  "Oh, Seth," she mumbled, dropping down onto a park bench to get her head straight. Her mind was frantic with thoughts that didn't make sense, yet made perfect sense. "I think I figured it out." He sat next to her, leaning forward, waiting for her to explain. "First of all, I think you were right. I think that the person from Ted's past—the person who killed him—was someone he never expected to be at the jubilee. Someone who lied to him about the foods he could eat. Someone who conveniently disappeared right before Ted dropped dead, and resurfaced only after the commotion settled. Someone who works at Bella Donna, and could easily find out my address and phone number from the employee files in Donna's office."

  "Wait a minute...."

  "Georgette," Billy said, clutching her mittened hands together, desperate to grasp all the implications of what she was thinking. Memories came flooding back to her, fast and sharp. Georgette was married many years ago to a man who'd left her. At the Kenmore Pub she'd shown Billy a photo of herself back then, and it matched Claudia's description of Ted's first wife to a tee. When Georgette had spoken to Ted at the jubilee about the menu, she hadn't looked him in the eyes—in fact, she'd barely even turned around—and now it made sense why. She hadn't wanted Ted to recognize her after all these years.

  Seth expelled a breath and said, "So Georgette Walters is really Gertrude Swain."

  * * *

  "There must be some way we can find out for sure," Seth said later, as they rode in his car toward the city. "Can't you just check her driver's license at work when she's not looking?"

  "She doesn't drive," Billy said, remembering that Georgette had mentioned on more than one occasion that she'd let her driver's license expire many years ago. "But she has to be Gertrude Swain. Think about it: After Ted took a payoff from her family, she disappeared—like Joe said—and started over with a fake name. That's probably why she never officially married Gary; it would involve legal documentation. And she must be the one threatening me."

  "But how would she even know you're looking into Ted's murder? Did you tell her?"

  "No."

  "Unless..."

  "What?"

  Seth glanced over at her, and Billy noticed the color in his face from the cold outside, and the way it illuminated the glittering hazel of his eyes. "Maybe Georgette knows about Ted's relationship with Penelope, and your connection to her. Have you ever mentioned Penelope at work?"

  "Sure, sometimes."

  "Maybe Georgette's been following Ted for years, watching him, waiting to get her revenge. And maybe she put it together that your aunt Penelope was the same Penelope Ted had been involved with. Who knows, maybe she knew you'd talked to Penelope about Ted." That had been the same night that Billy had found tomatoes on her window. But did that mean Georgette had been following her? If so, was she following her now?

  "So, what, you think that everything that's happened has all been part of some elaborate scheme?" Billy asked nervously, checking out her foggy window to see if any white pompadours were in the distance.

  "I don't know," he said, sighing with frustration as he slid to a stop at the red traffic light ahead. He turned to her. "What should we do next? Tell Joe?"

  "Oh, he'll just yell at us and blow us off. I mean, I know Joe's a great guy, but we're going to have to have a little more to go on before he'll take this seriously. He's never gonna believe that Georgette is Gertrude unless I come up with something more tangible than my own personal opinion." Which reminded her, the justice system really needed an overhaul. "I'm not sure how, but I have to try to find a link between Georgette and Ted. Someone is out there, someone who hates me—or wants me to go away—and I have to see this through."

  "No, we have to," Seth corrected, smiling softly at her, leaning down as though to kiss her, but then he kissed her cheek, just brushing it quickly, and pulled back to put an appropriately platonic amount of space between them.

  As the light turned green, Seth turned back to the road while emotion reached inside Billy's chest, and fervently gripped her heart.

  Chapter 24

  "Psst."

  Billy leaned farther forward, trying again to get her mom's attention. "Psst."

  What, was her mother ignoring her? Billy had scored a seat directly behind the teacher's pet so she could grill her for information. Specifically, she wanted to see if Adrienne remembered anything Penelope might have told her about Ted's first wife. Anything that might help confirm Billy's theory about Georgette, so she'd have something to take to Joe.

  Billy desperately wanted to shield her aunt from the pain of dredging up her relationship with Ted again. Ideally, she would also like to avoid telling Pen about Ted's death until she could offer her a better understanding of Ted's past, and how his leaving was in no way a reflection on her. And who better to turn to for details than the self-proclaimed expert on Aunt Pen's life, Billy's mother—a.k.a. the Great Truth Teller.

  Unfortunately, Adrienne was too transfixed by Judy—too torn between gazing with adoration and taking notes like a maniac—to notice. Next to her was Corryn, lazily sitting in her chair, resting her cheek in her hand, almost looking like she needed it: to prop her up. (On a side note, Roynald Membrano was sitting on the other side of Corryn, looking lovesick.)

  "Today we're going to delight in the wondrousness of fresh herbs," Judy said, standing in front of the room, talking like a Stepford chef, and making a point to pronounce the H in "herbs."

  "Now, can we have one or two volunteers come up front and try to guess which herbs are which? I've laid several herbs out on the table. Who will come up?" Predictably, Adrienne flapped her hand with rabid enthusiasm. "Roynald, how about you?" Possibly Judy noticed Roynald looking at Corryn instead of her, and felt like putting him on the spot as punishment.

  "Yes, all right," he said, flashing a tremulous smile at Corryn, who smiled mildly in return.

  "And Roynald needs a partner..." Judy said.

  Billy expected Adrienne to jump out of her seat, and actually to vault over Judy's head like a leapfrog to get in front of the class, but instead she turned to Corryn and whispered loudly, "You go, too. Go up with Roynald. C'mon, go!" Corryn looked irritated as hell, probably because Adrienne's idea of whispering needed work, especially when it was laced with desperation. "Corryn, go up there!"

  "No," Corryn hissed under her breath.

  "Come on, he likes you!" Adrienne went on, making superobvious motions with her head. "Go up there!"

  "Mom, stop it!" Billy whispered from behind, and Adrienne heaved a martyred sigh, followed by an I try so hard shake of her head. Corryn stayed planted in her seat.

/>   After Roynald and another student guessed three out of the six herbs correctly, they were appropriately patronized by the grande dame, and sent back to their seats. Then Judy went behind the counter to finish making soufflés, using the basil, thyme, and rosemary.

  As soon as Roynald left to use the bathroom, Adrienne turned back to Corryn. "He's a nice boy; why don't you talk to him? What's wrong with you?"

  "What's wrong with me?" she asked incredulously.

  Leaning forward, Billy jumped in. "Get off her back, Mom. She doesn't like him that way. It's none of your business who she likes anyway!"

  "I'm her mother!"

  "Yeah, don't remind me..." Corryn mumbled under her breath.

  Adrienne's eyes shot over. "Well, I think that was a very mean thing to say. Corryn, you're mean, you're rude, and you're nasty."

  "So I'm your clone, then?"

  "Oh, stop, both of you!" Billy whispered. They looked back at her, both fuming. In some ways they were so alike. Neither could let anything go, and when they got frustrated they both looked like these tiny brunette fireplugs about to explode. "Corryn, just ignore her."

  "But she's—"

  Billy cut off her sister's protests. "And Mom, stop being a martyr. Stop butting in and pushing her on Roynald, who you claim is a nice guy, but who shut the elevator doors on me the first day of class, so as far as I'm concerned is subhuman. Now both of you just shut up!"

  "Herbs really add delectable texture to any dish, as well as voluminous layers of rapturous flavor," Judy went on, as she greased ramekin cups for the soufflé, and Billy tried to get her mom's attention again. But now Adrienne was giving her the silent treatment. Billy could only assume it was because she'd taken Corryn's side. "Psst, Mom," Billy said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "Mom!"'

  "Oh, what is it?" she asked, sounding irritated as she angled her head back.

  "Remember how you showed me that picture of Aunt Penelope with that ex-boyfriend of hers, Ted?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, do you know if, when they were dating, he ever mentioned marriage?"

  Adrienne scoffed. "If they did, it obviously didn't amount to a hill of beans. He left her, and, as you know, Penelope never married."

  "Right," Billy said, stifling a scream, "but what I meant was, did he ever mention being married? In the past?"

  "Well, how should I know what they talked about? Penelope's not the most open person in the world." She's not? "In fact, if you want to know the truth, I always felt like she looked down on me."

  Oh, please—she did not have time for this. "Uh-huh, that's a shame, but back to Ted's background—"

  "It was like she always thought she was just a little bit better."

  "Mom, can you please focus here?"

  "Miss Cabot!"

  Billy jerked to attention as Judy scrutinized her under scolding eyebrows. "Apparently you're an expert on chiffonades?"

  "Um... no. No, I'm not."

  "Well, you must not need instruction," Judy continued smugly, "since you feel perfectly content to talk in my class. Perhaps there's something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

  "No, I'm sorry," Billy stammered, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment because all eyes were on her. On primal instinct, she turned to her mom for some sort of support or feeling of protection. What she got instead was disapproval, but at least Corryn had the decency to look back and bite her lip in sympathy.

  "Now, everyone pair up," Judy said to the class, just in time for Roynald to return from the bathroom (with a tiny scrap of toilet paper stuck to his heel). "Everyone pick a partner," Judy reiterated, and Roynald's eyes darted straight to Corryn at the word "partner."

  Oh, no. Billy had to protect her sister this time. "Come on, Corryn; be my partner," she said quickly, and grabbed her hand.

  "Thank you," Corryn whispered on a giggle as they headed to the kitchen area.

  "But wait..." Adrienne floundered.

  "See ya later, Mom," Corryn said over her shoulder.

  "Where are you two going?" Adrienne called after them as Roynald came closer. "Maybe the four of us can all work together."

  Never gonna happen.

  When Billy glanced back, she saw her mom and Roynald heading to a station together. She smiled at Adrienne and waved.

  * * *

  "Do you have anything without aspartame?"

  The girl behind the counter at the tiny frozen yogurt shop, with a perpetually drooped-open mouth and a glazed, vacant look in her eyes, just shrugged.

  "Mom," Billy said, leaning restlessly on the counter, "if you want it sugar-free, then probably not."

  "Yeah," Corryn said, gently licking her cone. "Come on, Mom—live a little."

  Adrienne paused, haplessly scrutinizing the chalkboard menu yet again before throwing her hands in the air and expelling a breath. "Oh, why not?" she said with a laugh. "I'll have what they're having." That was pretty major for her, considering that Billy and Corryn were both having large cones of Dutch chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. As it was, if it weren't for the concept of "bonding," Billy doubted her mother would even have agreed to stop at the dingy little frozen yogurt shop on Comm. Ave. after class.

  The girl behind the counter, whose dim expression still hadn't changed, turned to make the cone, and Billy tapped her mom affectionately on the arm. "I'm proud of you, Mom. It won't hurt much, I swear."

  Once they were all seated in a hard, plastic booth in the corner, Corryn grinned and said, "So, Mom, how was working with Roynald tonight? Is he still your new best friend?"

  Billy laughed.

  "Well..." Adrienne began, licking her cone as a form of a pregnant pause. "He's a very nice young man...." Another pause. "But, uh..."

  "Yeah?" Corryn pressed with a glint of laughter in her eyes. Their mom was stalling, and it was painfully clear.

  "Well... I changed my mind. I think maybe he's not right for you, Corryn." She looked from one daughter to the next, then said, "To be honest... you were right. I suppose he is kind of a dud."

  "Kind of?" Corryn said, shooting an incredulous look at Billy.

  Then Adrienne giggled—giggled—and said, "And he's a little strange, too!"

  "A little?" Corryn said.

  Billy laughed, then said, "Mom, why do you think he's strange? What did he do?"

  "Oh, my God, he couldn't stop asking me questions. 'Do you like cooking? Do you like our teacher? Do you like soufflés? What's your favorite number?' " She waved her hand through the air. "Oh, please, he was driving me crazy! Then I asked him what he does for a living, and guess what?" Billy and Corryn sat forward with interest. "He works for the Census Bureau."

  "Well, I told you he was weird," Corryn said, "but you wouldn't listen."

  "I thought you were just being closed-minded," Adrienne said in her own defense.

  "No way. I mean, I'm sure there's someone out there for him, but he was just too odd for me."

  Billy nodded and threw in, "And what about how he closed the elevator door on me the first class?"

  "Oh, get over it already," Corryn said, giggling, and Billy started laughing again.

  "This is fun," Adrienne said, and licked some rainbow sprinkles from her oversize cone. "I wish... I wish Penelope and I could be as close as you two are."

  After a momentary pause, Billy said, "I didn't think you felt that way about Pen."

  "What do you mean? She's my sister," Adrienne stated simply. It wasn't that simple. But maybe it could be.

  "I know, Mom, but you just never seem... proud of her."

  "Belinda. How can you say that? Of course I'm proud of her. She knows that. I'm sure she knows that." Except that Adrienne's voice faltered a bit; she wasn't all that sure.

  "Then why do you always make rude comments about how she lives her life?" Corryn asked bluntly.

  "I just don't want her to forget what's important. It's because I love her—you know, like the way I tell you two things. Out of love."

  "Yeah, about tha
t—" Corryn began.

  Billy interrupted: "But how can you expect to be close to Aunt Pen when you act like a nagging, judgmental know-it-all? You know—like a mom?" Temporarily speechless, Adrienne pressed her lips together as Billy continued, "And when you're always saying that you don't want us to end up alone like her?"

  "Well, wait a second. No, I don't want you to be alone," Adrienne said. "I want you to find someone, like I found your father, so you can have a family. I'm sorry if that makes me a bad mother."

  "It doesn't, Mom, but why do you have to criticize Pen?"

  Adrienne sighed with a hint of resignation. "I guess I see how much you both look up to her, and I'm afraid that you'll want to be like her. I mean, I know she's happy, but that doesn't mean that if I could pick the ideal lives for my daughters I'd choose the one she has."

  It made sense, and Billy believed her mother, but there was something else going on. Maybe it was something that could be defined only by the muddled dichotomy of siblings—love and jealousy, closeness and anger, fierce devotion and acute competition. Happily, Billy and Corryn's relationship was unmarred by that kind of dynamic—probably because of their seven-year age difference and what seemed to be an innate friendship.

  If Adrienne wanted to be as close with Aunt Pen, she had to be a better friend. She had to stop comparing their lives. And she had to stop projecting. In fact, for the first time it occurred to Billy that her mom might actually feel a stab of envy for her older sister, who'd built a career out of her creativity, who'd accomplished some thing Adrienne never had, and who'd earned the respect and admiration of Adrienne's daughters. Not that Adrienne would ever trade what she'd accomplished, her family.

  But still. Was it possible that Adrienne judged Pen because somewhere in the back of her mind, she was afraid that Pen was doing the same thing to her?

  "Mom, I've been thinking. Remember how you used to sell those welcome mats and stuff?"

  "Yes. What about it?" Adrienne asked, looking confused by the abrupt switch in topic.

  "Well, you seemed to love that. Wouldn't you have fun if you tried something like that again?"