by June Shaw
Mom took that thought in for a minute. “How sweet.”
People had begun moving to the area set up as a cafeteria. The two chief administrators, other staffers, and residents headed there. As we fell into step with the crowd, I spied our mother’s beau walking up ahead. A slender female resident spoke to him with a large smile. I recognized her as Miss Clarice, the person who wanted him for her own. He gave her a slight smile in return, and I felt a pinch of annoyance. Why?
Mainly I experienced a sense of relief mixed with dread. Since our mother hadn’t started fussing at us for meddling in her business by trying to get her moved to another table, she obviously didn’t know about those plans yet. She would probably be pleased to get away from Miss Clarice, but wouldn’t be happy if she discovered we encouraged such a move. She wouldn’t know our motive was to get her away from that lady whose interest in the same man might make Mom want a permanent situation with him much sooner than she might be planning.
He sat with three other men a few yards away, his back toward Mom’s table. That was good. Maybe. To my surprise, I realized I continued to accept that they would be together. Still, something inside me tugged against that taking place. The cafeteria was filling. I looked around but didn’t see Emery Jackobson. He probably only stopped by to visit someone. He may have already left.
A half dozen people gave Eve and me double takes. Most people in town knew us as identical twins. These who stared obviously didn’t. Unless they’d heard we were linked to our most recent customer’s murder or had heard us here arguing with him.
The clatter of dishes called my attention to staffers who had already begun serving trays of food to people at their tables. The enticing aroma of homemade bread made my mouth water.
Mom took her seat at the table where we had seen her sit before. Nobody else was with her.
Eve and I walked close. “Is anyone else coming” Eve asked, “or can we join you?”
Mom shook her head. “No, you can’t. The others often get here late.” She moved her fingers like she was shooing us away. “Go on and join those ladies. The staff will be serving meals at your table, so go get yours while it’s hot.”
Checking the table a few feet away, I spotted two staffers carrying trays holding plates and glasses and rolled napkins that would hold silverware. They set them in front of two who sat there.
“Here’s my meal. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.” Mom waved her fingers as though wanting us to go on. A woman in navy served Mom a tray holding a meal that looked scrumptious. Shrimp stew on rice, lima beans, cole slaw, and a plump brown roll that smelled like it was right out of the oven sat on her plate. A tall glass of iced tea stood beside her rolled paper napkin, and next to the glass sat a bowl holding what had to be crunchy cherry cobbler.
“Yum, that all looks terrific,” I said. “We came on the perfect day.”
“I’m sure it will be. Now let me eat,” Mom said, “and go eat yours.”
Some of the servers moving to tables carried bowls of vegetable soup and tuna sandwiches instead of the main entrée, a choice guests were also given at each meal. Although some of the people here must have stomach problems or other ailments that made them watch their diet, I couldn’t imagine eating what came out on those trays while others devoured shrimp stew and cobbler.
Not far from us, the woman we’d met who carried her urn set it in the center of her table. I wondered how her seatmates felt while they ate, knowing a dead man sat in front of them.
Eve and I stepped over to the table where we had been assigned. Both ladies seated there gave us warm greetings. They were friends of our mother’s that we had known a long time. They chatted with us, asking which one was which.
“How is your love life going?” the woman who always wore long pearls asked Eve while she unrolled her napkin and set it on her lap. “Are you dating anyone now? Getting ready to get married again?”
That question made me squirm inside. We were used to a few of the residents asking sometimes rude questions that people in other settings normally avoided. It was like many believed that being of a certain age gave them permission to do so. That was ordinarily fine with us, but now Eve would tell them how much she loved Dave.
“You’ve had what, four, five marriages already?” The one with shoulders so thick they made me think of linemen on professional football teams lifted her fork and looked at my sister.
“Only three.” Eve shrugged and added, “Who knows when I might get married again? But I’m not ruling it out.”
“Way to go,” the lineman lady said with a nod. “I’d get married if I ever had the chance.” She stabbed two lima beans and chewed them. Using her empty fork, she waved it back and forth at both of us. “Either of you know of any available man I might get to join me?”
I do, I thought, my mind going to our mother’s beau. I saw Mom’s eyes turning to where he sat and feared she did not want him available much longer.
“I’ll look around and let you know if I find any available man,” Eve told the woman with us.
“I’d appreciate that.”
Our other seatmate kept quiet once her food came. She attacked one item on her tray after another. Her cherry cobbler was one of the first things that almost disappeared, leaving only a trace of red and a few brown and tan crumbs behind in the white bowl.
“What do they do about people with diabetes?” Eve asked her. “That cobbler looks too tempting to serve to people eating with you if you can’t have any.”
“They make some with a sugar substitute. They do that with a lot of desserts.” The food stabber lifted a forkful of rice with two medium shrimp.
Our mother’s seatmates had joined her at the table, I noticed. Eve and I hadn’t been served our food yet, but they had gotten theirs immediately after they sat. The people serving meals were doing an amazing job, getting plates out to everyone so quickly. Ours were probably slower in coming because we weren’t regulars.
“This all looks so great,” I said to Mom a couple of feet away from our table.
“If I ate like this every day, I’d weigh five-hundred pounds,” Eve, the spoilsport, chimed in.
“Ladies,” Mom said to the other ladies who had filled in her table, “you’ve met my daughters, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” one of them said. Another one nodded. Clarice, who wanted to take Mom’s man, only stuck her nose in the air as though she had sniffed some offensive object. Nothing smelled foul in those plates, so I imagined she was reacting to Eve and me. I was disappointed in myself for having the urge to go over there and twist her skinny nose.
Our food arrived. We thanked our servers and didn’t hesitate to get started. Words at our table and at others quieted while we all ate. The shrimp were wonderful, the stew seasoned well with bell pepper and garlic. I enjoyed a bit more of a garlic flavor in any stews, so I used the garlic powder from the center of the table and also sprinkled on a dab of the hot pepper provided. The well-shouldered woman had eaten all her food except for her stew. Before even tasting it, she added lots of salt and four shakes of hot pepper. She took a tiny taste, smiled like a woman who had just found love, and set one forkful of stew after another into her mouth.
I thought I could do the same thing. My stew was so tasty, I started to eat it rather quickly, but then took time from it to try my lima beans. Seasoned perfectly with pieces of salt meat, they were wonderful. The coleslaw swam in more mayonnaise than I was used to, but my bite of cobbler made me forget any complaint. Nice and sweet with the cherries, it had a crunchy crust on top and even a thick bottom layer of crunch. Before I knew it, I had finished my dessert. Then I looked up and saw Eve grinning at me.
“Yes, I love sweets,” I told her.
“So do I.” Those were the first words spoken by the pearl-wearing woman in a long time. Almost all her food had been devoured.
I was going to ask Mom what s
he liked best and already knew what she would say. She loved any kind of cobbler. When we were young, she would make peach or cherry cobbler as a special treat. She always ate as much of it as we did.
Coughing came from her table, making me look there even though our seatmate who’d made her meal disappear had begun telling us a story about her newest great-granddaughter. I wanted to make certain it wasn’t Mom getting a cough or choking. It was not. The woman coughing was her competitor. She took a swallow of her drink, and her coughing stopped.
I returned to tuning in to the story being told at my table about a little girl who had gotten really sick last January with the flu.
“Clarice, what’s wrong? You don’t look well,” a lady at Mom’s table said in a loud voice, causing the four of us to look there.
The chair nearest us got shoved back as did most others near as projectile vomit spewed onto plates. Miss Clarice continued to vomit, making people nearby scramble. A few in the area rushed toward her, but most scattered away with utters of disgust.
I hurried close hoping to help, grabbing my unused napkin and Eve’s to wipe the sick lady’s face. Someone from the cafeteria area would probably bring towels.
“What can we do for you?” Eve stood on her opposite side.
“Clarice, do you want my daughters to help you to your room?” Mom laid a hand on her arm. Without warning, more vomit gushed. Some of it just missed Mom’s fingers
Staff members wearing navy were helping residents who required assistance move to other places. The administrator and her assistant rushed near.
“How do you feel?” the administrator asked the ill person, who appeared barely able to give her head the slightest shake and seemed unable to voice words.
Rita Picou, the assistant, carried clean wet towels she’d brought from the cafeteria. She wiped Miss Clarice’s cheeks and chin. Using another towel she’d carried in over her shoulder, she wiped what she could off the ill lady’s hands and dress.
Miss Clarice began to cough as much as she had before.
“Let me through.” The nurse rushed forward between those parting to give her a clear path. “Move aside,” she told those of us still standing close.
Stooping near the woman who’d gotten sick, she asked, “Do you feel real bad, Miss Clarice?” Getting a slight nod in response, she said, “Then you don’t feel like it’s over. Do you hurt anywhere?” Before waiting for a response, she leaned close and used a stethoscope to check the her chest. The woman heaved on the nurse’s cheek and long black hair.
She jerked back. Face pinched in annoyance, she told the administrator, “Get an ambulance. She needs to get checked by a doctor.”
Most of the people who lived here had scattered. Staffers ordered everyone to leave the room. While Eve and I headed toward the nearest bank of elevators with Mom, I spotted the woman and man who did most custodial work around here and felt sorry for them when they came carrying buckets and mops.
“Miriam, are you okay?” Mom’s beau had stepped up behind us. He took her hands when she turned to him.
“Yes, I’m fine. The poor thing must have come down with a bad virus.”
“I certainly hope you don’t catch it.”
“Thank you.” She let go of his hands and gave him a small hug. “I’m fine.”
Eve cleared her throat. He pulled back from Mom and looked from my sister to me. “You two take good care of her.” He smiled at her. “She told me you always do.”
“She always took the greatest care of us,” I said. “We’d never want anything or anyone to hurt her.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” He returned full attention to our mother. “You’re going down for your nap now, and I’ll see you much later?”
“You know you will.”
“It was nice seeing all of you today.” He spoke to Eve and me, and we nodded in return.
One elevator had just taken off. “You two can go home now,” Mom told us. “Everything will be fine here.” Her eyes flitted toward the silver-haired man using a cane to walk away. Yes, she did care about him. She returned her attention to us.
“We’ll go up to your room with you,” Eve said, “just to make sure everything’s okay.”
Mom fisted her hands on her hips. “Young ladies, just because one person became sick at my table does not mean anything puts me at risk. And I do not need my daughters to take care of me.” Her lips pinched into a thin line. “No matter what you may think, I am not an invalid, and I do not need you seeing about me or telling me what I can or cannot do.”
Ooooh, this mother was different from the gentle one who was always sweet to us with her actions and words. This one seemed much more independent than the softer one. Maybe her ill rival caused it. Maybe her daughters were in the way here, and she instead wanted to be with her intended.
An elevator door dinged open. “Let us know if you need anything,” I said and kissed her cheek and then watched her lips relax.
“Yes. Stay well.” Eve kissed her opposite cheek.
“And when you find out, let us know what Miss Clarice has,” I said, and Mom assured us she would. We walked off before the elevator doors shut to take her and anyone else who got on with her away. The halls we passed were clear. Probably almost everyone went to their rooms or suites.
“That was almost a good meal,” Eve said once we stepped outside.
“Almost.”
“He seems to care about her.”
“Yes.” I considered a minute. “I only wish we didn’t feel so concerned about his reasons.”
Eve frowned. “I know.”
I sighed. “I hope Miss Clarice’s all right and it’s just a little stomach bug.”
“Me, too. And Mac was sick. Let’s hope Mom doesn’t get it.”
My own frown deepened with that thought. I headed for my truck, about to open the door when a siren called my attention toward the far end of the parking lot. It sounded like the ambulance would come in from there. As always when I heard one of them, I said a silent prayer for the person needing help.
My main concern was our mother. She had sat right next to the woman who’d seemed so violently ill. After we found out what that illness was, we could be more assured that Mom wouldn’t come down with the same thing. Illnesses struck older people harder than those much younger.
Chapter 17
A phone call came soon after I got on the road. I dug in my purse, found my phone, and answered.
“Sunny, it’s Dave. Your mother is all right, isn’t she?” Concern strained his voice.
“Yes, she’s fine. Why are you asking?” My stomach muscles jerked tight. Could something have just happened to her that he learned about but I didn’t? Spotting a driveway ahead, I whipped in. I threw my gears in reverse and was backing to turn and speed back to the manor when he replied.
“I’m working near the manor and just saw an ambulance there.”
“Oh.” I pulled my foot farther back from the accelerator. “No, she wasn’t in it.”
“I didn’t want to scare you. I was just concerned about her.”
“That was sweet of you.” What a great man who’d look after my mother. “Where are you working?” I glanced at houses to the right of this one but didn’t see his truck at anyone’s house.
“My crew and I are installing an alarm system in a new house near the Baptist church.”
The church was to my left. I aimed my truck in that direction.
“Do you know if the person they brought away will be all right?” In the background, two men began speaking to each other, probably members of his crew.
Would she be all right? “I think so. Nobody died. One of the female residents got sick.”
“Good. Then maybe I’ll get to see you again soon?”
I reached the corner and turned right. His truck and his work van sat in the driv
eway of the house I’d noticed going up.
“Sunny? Are you still there?”
I slid my window open and pulled into the driveway Dave stood next to. When he saw it was me, his lips curved into a wide smile. He put up his phone and came to my door.
“No, I’m not there. I’m here.” I gave him an even wider smile.
“How great to see you.” He stepped up to my door and pushed his face toward me as though he was going to give me a kiss. A few feet behind him, a young man holding equipment that they used for jobs watched us. Dave and I had never really kissed in public. He obviously didn’t care. Neither did I. I pressed my lips against his.
“It’s good to see you, too.” My peripheral vision let me see the worker grin. He turned and carried his things into the house.
“Did you have lunch yet? I could slip away for a few minutes and take you out to eat.”
“Nice. Thanks, but I ate at the manor.”
He placed his warm hand on my shoulder. Um, the effect he was having on me made me feel that being anywhere with him now was a nice place.
He squeezed my shoulder and grinned. “Guess what? You caught a fish.”
“What? When?”
“Right after you left my camp, something started taking your pole. I grabbed it right before the whole thing went in.”
I couldn’t imagine how large the fish must have been. “What was it?”
“Catfish, a big one.”
“I wish I could have caught it. I love the way they attack your bait and pull it down and put up such a fight. The big ones really bend your pole.”
He laughed. “You’ve lived down here a lot longer than I have and had that experience much more often. If you keep coming to my camp with me, I’ll let you catch another one.”
“I’ll need to do that soon. Fresh-water cats make great eating.”
“We’ll have it for supper sometime soon.” His lips pressed into a small pout. “I didn’t catch anything, but I stopped trying after you left.”
