To lighten up the mood, she said, “You know, girls, if we’re able to do this, it could open up a whole new business opportunity for us. Just think how many women there are out there who would like one last chance to tell their late husbands what pieces of crap they were. I think we might be onto something here.”
“That would be the perfect job for you, Sophie, since you never have a kind word to say about anyone. Bad-mouthing dead men, seems like that’s right up your alley,” Ida observed.
“Better than what you would do to them,” Sophie said.
“Exactly what is that supposed to mean?” Ida snarled.
“Stop it, you two! Arguing over dead men? Give us all a break. Quit sniping at each other. Sophie, let’s go downstairs and prepare for tonight’s séance. And not another word about anyone!” Toots commanded.
“You’re no fun,” Sophie said as she made her way down the hall. “You realize we haven’t had a cigarette in the last half hour?”
“I’ve been chewing your nicotine gum. Now that you mention it, let’s go have a smoke before we get started. It could be our last,” Toots said dryly.
The two women grabbed their packs of cigarettes from the kitchen table, went outside, and sat down on the steps, where they each lit up. After two cigarettes apiece, they went inside, where Bernice, Mavis, and Ida looked like matching pigeons in the slate gray outfits.
Toots had a brief thought. If Abby or Chris saw them now, they would have them committed for sure. Five old women dressed like doves as they prepared to speak to the dead. But, the bottom line was this: They were having the time of their lives. And for now, that was enough.
Sophie retrieved the candles and wineglasses from the hutch in the kitchen. Holding her book in one hand, she read the instructions on how to properly place the glasses on the table. She followed the instructions to the letter.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ida asked.
“Put the tablecloth on first. Once the glasses are rimmed with salt, you know, kind of like a margarita, we’ll place them on the corners of the table.” Sophie poured table salt on top of a dinner plate. “Supposedly, this salt is to ward off any evil spirits we don’t want to come through.”
Once the table was properly set, the candles lit, the salted wineglasses placed in their proper position, Sophie, Toots, Mavis, and Ida proceeded to take their places around the table, each one of them sitting at a corner representing a cardinal point of the compass. Bernice sat between Toots and Sophie.
Sophie opened her book and began to read out loud. “Spirits of the dead, hear us in our hour of mourning. We’re looking for the spirit of Walter Manchester. Bastard and drunk that he was. Walter, if you are here, please give us a sign of your presence. We are in grief over your loss.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “We wish you to come through tonight. North, south, east, or west. Walter, wherever you may be, find your way toward us and grace us with your presence.”
The room remained silent. Other than the ticking of a grandfather clock, nothing could be heard.
They remained in total silence, waiting for Walter to make his presence known. After several minutes, when nothing happened, Ida spoke up. “What do we do now?”
“The book says we should offer something meaningful, something this spirit might have cherished in life.”
“Well, you gave him your virginity, so that’s out of the question. Not that it was ever anything of value,” Toots added with a smile.
In a harsh whisper, Sophie said, “You think so?”
“I know so,” Toots remarked.
“If this is going to be nothing more than a pissing contest, I have better things to do,” Bernice groused.
The dining room radiated a warm golden color from the flames of the many candles. If one were inclined to believe in such things, this was the perfect setting to receive spirits, ghosts, or an entity of any kind.
“Let’s join hands. We’ll give it a few more minutes and try to channel our energy. The book says this makes us a stronger unit.”
“Oh, Lordy, Lordy. I don’t believe we’re doing this,” Toots said.
Sophie kicked her beneath the table. “Hush!”
Suddenly, the room chilled. It was so cold that each of the women shivered.
“Did you feel that? I think something is happening.” Sophie scanned the room.
“I felt it. It was a cold breeze, and I heard it, too. It was the air conditioner kicking on. I honestly doubt we’ve accomplished anything tonight. I suggest we end this foolishness and try it the way we did before. At least we made contact then,” Toots suggested.
“I agree with Toots. Let’s just start over tomorrow night. This doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe the spirits don’t like this house,” Ida suggested.
“You may be right, but let’s not leave just yet. If that skunk of a husband of mine doesn’t want to make his presence known, I say we make him an offer he can’t refuse. Toots, do you remember the wedding gift you gave me when Walter and I married?”
“No, not really,” Toots replied.
“Well, I do. One of the gifts was a bottle of wine. You told me it came from Christie’s, you know, the auction house in New York City?”
“Surely you’re not talking about that bottle of Château Mouton Rothschild Jeroboam? Please, don’t tell me Walter got his hands on that.”
“No, he didn’t. I’ve carried it with me all these years. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. You don’t know how hard it is to hide alcohol when you’re living with a drunk. I knew it was a very expensive bottle of wine, something Walter would have given his eyeteeth for. He might’ve been a drunk, but a cheap one he wasn’t. He only drank the best. I told him one of the girls at the office purchased it at Woolworth’s, and the dumb ass was too snookered most of the time to realize that Woolworth’s didn’t even sell wine.”
“If Walter is going to make his presence known, he better do it real quick. I’m ready to call it a day,” Ida said.
“Let’s give it one more serious try, and if nothing happens, we’ll call it a night,” Sophie suggested.
Suddenly a foul scent blew gently throughout the room, followed by a loud banging noise that startled them.
“What was that?” Mavis said, her voice filled with fright.
“I hate to say it, but I think it’s the shutter. It’s banging rapidly, and it sure as hell isn’t from the wind,” Toots said, all traces of humor gone. “There isn’t the slightest breeze out tonight.”
Sophie looked from left to right. “Walter? If that was you, let us see or hear a sign of your presence. A sign that we cannot mistake for anything or anyone else. If you’re here, make yourself known. Now!”
Just as the words left Sophie’s mouth, she felt a force near her, then a silence that was deafening. Out of nowhere, all five glasses suddenly toppled over and started rolling on the table. Then, as fast as they started, they stopped.
“Bernice, go in the kitchen and bring back a corkscrew and an extra wineglass. We’re going to open this now,” Sophie said calmly.
“Sophie Manchester, you realize that bottle of wine is worth more than one hundred thousand dollars?” Toots said in utter amazement. “I hope . . . Never mind, it was a gift. You can do with it as you please.”
Bernice raced back into the dining room, corkscrew in one hand, a wineglass in the other. Sophie took the opener and proceeded to open the bottle of sixty-year-old wine. She reseated all five wineglasses, wiped the salt off the rims, then filled them with the exquisite wine.
“I would like to propose a toast,” Sophie said.
Each of the five women held her wineglass high in the air.
“To my late husband, Walter. He didn’t come through tonight, so I must assume he’s rotting in hell as we speak. I don’t think there is anything I would enjoy toasting more than his ass roasting on hot coals for eternity.”
All five clinked their glasses together. “To Walter.”
After their first sip,
they placed the glasses in front of them. A wine so old, so expensive, must be sipped. While they waited for the wine to warm their insides and tickle their tongues, a foul gush of air blasted through the room, once again causing the glasses of wine to tip over, emptying every last drop on the clothes Mavis had loaned them.
“My dresses! What just happened?” Mavis cried out.
Toots, Ida, Bernice, and Sophie looked down at their borrowed attire. The wine had left deep, blood-colored stains.
“Walter, you asshole! No one else but you would pull a stunt like this. I wouldn’t have thought you, of all people, would ever let one drop go to waste. You sicken me! You’re a prick in death just like you were in life,” Sophie yelled, her voice laced with anger.
Wind blew across the room, extinguishing the candles and leaving the room in total darkness.
Sophie looked down at her ruined dress. “These clothes look like maxi pads. I think I’ve proven that I can summon any specific person at will. We’re going to have to do this more often. We have the power to solve some of life’s greatest mysteries.”
Chapter 14
“And that’s my big secret,” Mavis explained. Over breakfast, Mavis revealed what she had been up to for the past several months. She wanted to help lay those to rest who couldn’t afford it, but in a dignified manner. When she told the story about Pearl Mae Atkins, the women all cried like babies. Even Sophie’s eyes misted over.
“Why didn’t you just ask me for the money?” Toots asked. “I would’ve helped you.”
Mavis blotted at her eyes with a tissue. “I know you would, and I appreciate your offer. But this was something I had to do on my own. I checked my Web site this morning. I have thirty-seven more orders on top of the twenty-three from yesterday. After last night’s . . . event, I’m five short. What is even worse, I’ve run out of material.”
“So can’t you just order another bolt of it? I’m pretty handy with a sewing machine, and so is Toots. If these patterns are as easy as you say they are, between the three of us we should be able to fill your orders ASAP,” Ida said.
Mavis shook her head. “That’s the problem. Not any old material will do. Because I want my customers to wear these clothes more than once, I invested in the best fabric I could afford. Not to be boastful or anything, but Oscar de la Renta sometimes uses the same supplier.”
“That’s pretty darn impressive,” Toots said. “So what are your long-term plans? Do you want to stay Internet only, or have you thought of opening stores?”
“Right now the Internet is my best option. In the future, I wouldn’t rule out a small catalog or something of that nature. I want to stay unique, not something that can be found at Sears or JCPenney. Yesterday, when I was visiting Catherine, she offered to sell my designs in her shop, but I told her no. She agrees with me. Good Mourning is a one-of-a-kind idea.”
“Yeah, until someone else picks up on the idea,” Sophie added. “Then you’ll find your designs in Wal-Mart, Target, and, if you’re really lucky, Walgreens.”
Bernice piped up. “Hey, there is nothing wrong with buying your clothes at Walgreens. See these shoes I’m wearing?” Bernice lifted her foot up in the air. She wore a pair of knockoff Crocs in hot pink. “I paid four ninety-nine for these perfectly good shoes.”
“It’s perfectly acceptable to buy a pair of knock-around shoes at Walgreens. I don’t think the average grief-stricken consumer looks for a mourning outfit in a drugstore, that’s all,” Ida informed them.
“I found a supplier yesterday in North Charleston. It’s a warehouse on Meeting Street Road. They’re called Jay C. King’s. From what I could gather, that area is similar to the fashion district in New York City,” Mavis explained.
“Then what’s the problem? We go there, pick up however much fabric, come back here, and sew our asses off. And yes, I do know how to sew,” Sophie informed them.
“I wish it were that easy. I learned from Catherine that there is no way they would sell to me because I only need a few bolts of fabric. This warehouse only sells orders in bulk, and even if they did sell small orders, you have to have an account with them to even think about buying from them. They’re top of the line,” Mavis said.
“You’re positive they wouldn’t sell anything to you?” Toots asked.
“Absolutely. Catherine told me they actually have guards, and a security system to rival that of Fort Knox.”
Toots appeared deep in thought. “What if we didn’t actually buy the material from them? What’s stopping us from going into the place at night and taking it? I honestly doubt they would miss a few bolts of fabric.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized how insane, how totally off the wall she sounded.
“You’ve got to be kidding. You’re talking about stealing? Catherine said they have a steel door with a lock that not even a bulldozer could push. The lock itself, according to Catherine, is six inches of hardened steel. I don’t think our fragile hands have the ability to bend that kind of steel even if we did eat our spinach,” Mavis said laughingly.
“Apparently you and Catherine had quite a conversation,” Toots said.
Bernice poured a fresh round of coffee, and Sophie removed a coffee cake from the oven. Once their necessities were replenished, the two women sat back down to resume their conversation with the others.
“Seriously, stealing is out of the question. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I just love what I’m doing, but I have to be realistic. The supply-and-demand issue . . . Well, everything is happening faster than I anticipated, which I suppose is a good thing if I were better prepared.”
“Success is always unexpected, Mavis. Let me call Henry Whitmore at the bank. If this warehouse is as exclusive as you’re saying, I would bet my last dollar Henry knows who they are. I’ll see if I can pull a few strings, if you want me to,” Toots offered.
In a sweet voice, Mavis said, “I hate to ask. You already have enough to do.”
“And that’s what keeps me going. That’s what makes me happy,” Toots said.
Mavis was right. Toots did have enough to do, but doing was what kept her alive. Sitting around twiddling her thumbs was not in her nature. Staying busy, enjoying her life, her daughter, and her dearest friends, now that was embedded deep in her DNA. And when she could, helping those in need made her happy. She would be the first to admit that she liked the finer things in life, but she would also tell you that material things could be replaced, people couldn’t.
“I’ll go upstairs and make that call,” Toots said, getting up from the table.
“And don’t forget to call Dr. Pauley. Remember, he wants to check Mavis,” Bernice added as Toots headed upstairs.
Toots gave Bernice the thumbs-up.
Upstairs in the privacy of her room, she looked up Henry Whitmore’s home phone number, then Dr. Pauley’s. Deciding Mavis’s fabric issue was the more important one, she located Henry’s number first.
Toots glanced at her watch before making the call. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t too early for a business call. They’d all had a late night last night finishing off Sophie’s sixty-year-old bottle of wine. It was fifteen minutes after nine. Late in the business world, but she knew for a fact that Henry seldom arrived at the bank before ten. She punched in his number, anyway, and he answered on the third ring.
“Don’t tell me you decided to back out of the bakery deal. I was just about to call your new friend, Jamie,” Henry said.
“Good morning to you, too, and no, I’m not backing out of the bakery deal. I need a favor,” Toots explained.
“What now? Don’t tell me you have invested in another business venture. I know you have millions in this bank. But if your spending continues, your accounts are going to shift into the six-digit mode.”
If Henry weren’t such a good friend, Toots wouldn’t have allowed him to speak to her in such a manner. But he was, and it was okay.
“No, I’m not investing in another business, but I need a fa
vor, and it’s a very important one. And if you can help me out, I’ll keep my millions in your bank until they throw dirt on my face,” Toots said.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can do, though I can’t make any promises,” Henry said.
“There’s a factory, rather a warehouse, in North Charleston, on Meeting Street Road. I need to set up a business account ASAP. Mavis needs several bolts of material for a new line of clothing she’s working on, and they’re the only place in town that has what she needs.” Toots paused.
“You’re talking about Jay C. King’s? Am I right?”
“You guessed right. Now, what I need from you is this.” Toots gave him all the details Mavis had given her. As luck would have it, Henry was golfing buddies with Mr. King. He’d call him immediately; he told her that King owed him a favor. And he didn’t fail to remind her that she would owe him one more favor after this.
Dr. Joseph Pauley had been Toots’s personal physician for over twenty years. He was in his midseventies but passed for sixty. With a full head of white hair, clear blue eyes, at least six feet tall, and without an ounce of body fat on him, he was extremely handsome, and he was also kind and decent. Joe was “good people.”
When Mavis had come to Charleston last year, it was Dr. Pauley who gave her the clean bill of health and the warning about her weight that had set her on the road she now walked. Toots couldn’t wait for him to see Mavis. She seriously doubted he would recognize her. Joe was single; he might even want to date Mavis. She had a quick flash of the pair as a couple. It didn’t seem plausible, but one never knew.
His receptionist answered the phone, and Toots chatted with her for a few minutes before scheduling an appointment for Mavis for the following afternoon. She knew this was simply a formality. Once Joe knew she’d called, he would return the call and more than likely come to her house, as he had before, to examine Mavis.
She replaced the phone and mentally checked these items off her shit-to-do list.
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