“I’m telling you that man is bad news.”
I couldn’t agree more.
I was about to knock on Virginia’s front door when Lovey swung it open.
“Come in, come in,” she gestured with her drink. “You came at just the right time. We’re having cocktails.”
At two o’clock on a Thursday afternoon?
Aunt Shirley knocked me aside, causing me to stumble into the wall. “I’ve never turned down a cocktail before.”
I groaned and followed them inside.
CHAPTER 6
* * *
“I hope you don’t mind,” Virginia said, “but I’ve asked Lovey and Dotty to stay. We’ve been friends for about sixty years now, and they’ve been right there with me through the marriages and deaths of all my husbands. Better friends I couldn’t ask for.”
I gave Aunt Shirley a meaningful look. These were exactly the type of women she needed to be hanging around.
“Not at all,” I said. “I think it’s wonderful you guys all live on the same floor and right next door to each other. Aunt Shirley is lucky to have you guys for neighbors.”
Aunt Shirley shot me a “get real” glare that I ignored. I was determined to enjoy myself with this interview and the ladies surrounding me. It would be a nice change of pace to be around actual nice old ladies.
Virginia’s apartment was nothing like Aunt Shirley’s. There was vibrant color everywhere. A lot of old Victorian-style Queen Anne furniture, collectible antiques, and myriad pictures adorned the walls.
I walked over to look at family pictures. Some were of Virginia surrounded by what I assumed were her children and grandchildren. Others were of her at different stages of her life with different men. I assumed these were her husbands. In every picture, Virginia was the image of perfection.
I turned and looked at Virginia standing with the other ladies by the bar. Even though she was probably in her seventies, she was still a strikingly beautiful woman with her platinum blond bob, prominent cheekbones, narrow nose, and full lips. Her body was still trim and fit, too.
She reminded me of Helen Mirren from the Red movies. I think Mirren is one of the most beautiful women in film today. And the fact she likes to play characters that are strong and can kick butt is a huge plus.
“Ryli,” Lovey called over to me from the bar, “what would you like to drink?”
“Water is fine.”
Silence.
“It’s a cocktail party you ninny,” Aunt Shirley snapped. “You can’t have water. You have to have a drink!”
I sighed. Obviously I was going to have to be a full participant in order to get what I wanted. “How about a beer?”
Silence again.
Aunt Shirley opened her mouth, no doubt to chew me out, but Virginia laid a hand on Aunt Shirley’s arm. “How about an Old Fashioned, dear? It’s one of my favorite drinks.”
I shrugged. I had no idea what that even was. “Okay.”
There were probably nine different types of hard liquor on the countertop, seltzer water, a shaker, and an assortment of small bottles called bitters in various flavors. Orange slices, maraschino cherries, olives, and tiny pearl onions were sitting in a white, compartmentalized serving tray.
These women obviously took their cocktails seriously.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“This,” Virginia said primly, “is a dying art. Back in our day, cocktail parties were all the rage. Women didn’t drink beer, we drank real alcohol.” She crushed up a sugar cube with the back of a spoon, added bitters to the sugar and mixed it together until it was a murky liquid. She then added a cherry and crushed it up in the glass before adding three ice cubes. Next came two ounces of bourbon, a quick stir, and a garnish of another cherry and a sliver of orange.
“Here you go…an Old Fashioned. Sure to cure what ails you. It’s what I always drink.” She handed me the diminutive drink. It looked and smelled strong enough to put hair on my chest.
“Shouldn’t you put like a lot of seltzer in it to water it down?” I asked.
They all laughed at me. Obviously that was a ridiculous request to them.
“I’ll take a Gin and Tonic,” Lovey said.
“Manhattan for me,” Dotty added.
Virginia turned to Aunt Shirley. “I’ve heard about how much you love your tequila, so might I suggest a Spanish Fashion?”
Aunt Shirley gasped. “That used to be my signature drink back in my cocktail party days. How did you know?”
Virginia smiled sweetly at Aunt Shirley. “Lucky guess. I’d say the drink suits you.”
I peered over the shoulder of Lovey and watched as Virginia started mixing and pouring drinks.
“A Gin and Tonic is self-explanatory,” I said. “And I’ve at least heard of a Manhattan. But what’s a Spanish Fashion?”
“Heaven in a glass,” Aunt Shirley sighed.
Virginia laughed. “It’s a combination of tequila, sweet vermouth, bitters, and a maraschino cherry.”
“At this rate, we’re all going to be schnockered by 2:30,” I said.
Another round of laughter.
“Honey,” Lovey said, “we’ve been having daily cocktails since we were in our twenties.”
Once all the drinks were poured, Virginia invited us into her living room to start the interview. She held court sitting in a cream colored satin wing chair with ornate dark armrests and legs. Aunt Shirley and I sat on a smaller matching loveseat, and Lovey and Dotty sat across from us also in a matching loveseat. At least I think they call them loveseats. Maybe they were settees? This kind of fancy furniture always threw me off.
Lovey and Dotty were conservatively dressed, like Aunt Shirley, in slacks and flowery dress shirts with buttons down the front. Virginia was elegantly dressed in a yellow and blue knee-length dress with a matching blue cardigan sweater—matching the blue of her eyes.
Everything about this woman screamed sophistication and poise.
“Where shall we begin, dear?” Virginia asked.
“Well, instead of jumping right into your marriages,” I said, trying not to notice the way she flinched, “how about we start with you three. Have you always known each other?”
“Lovey and I have,” Dotty said, swirling her Manhattan. “Virginia moved to Granville during our fifth-grade year. Around 1954 or ’55, wasn’t it?”
Virginia nodded. “Around there. My daddy was a lawyer, and he moved us from Kansas City to Granville to open his own practice.”
“And you all became instant friends?” I asked. I tried to ignore the fact I could hear Aunt Shirley’s ice clinking, signaling she was about done with her drink already.
Dotty and Lovey exchanged looks. I didn’t know how to read it.
“Well, to be honest,” Lovey said, “even before Virginia moved to town, Dotty and I had to keep our friendship on the down-low as you young people say. My daddy was the only doctor in town while Dotty’s dad was…”
Dotty smiled at Lovey. “You can say it.” Dotty turned to me. “My dad was the town drunk. When he came back from World War II, he was never quite the same.”
My eyes filled with tears. I knew what she was saying. For a few years, we lost Matt to survivor’s guilt after he came back from his tours in Afghanistan. There’s a lot more help and understanding of what PTS and survivor’s guilt is today than there ever was for men coming back from wars years ago. In fact, if it wasn’t for Garrett’s friendship, understanding, and help, I don’t know where Matt would be today.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said kindly.
Dotty waved me off. “My dad died from liver failure when I was in seventh grade. My mom left with the first guy that came through town, and I was left alone.”
“Omigod!” I exclaimed.
Dotty smiled at Lovey. “Lovey came forward and told her parents about us being secret friends, and so they decided to take me in, raise me in their home. Virginia’s parents and Lovey’s parents became fast friends, which meant
we all got to hang out together. So naturally, we’ve pretty much all three been inseparable throughout our lifetime.”
Lovey took a sip of her drink. “Times were different in the early ‘60s when we graduated from high school. Most women got married, started a family, and stayed home to raise their babies. But after graduation Daddy let Dotty and me work at his doctor’s office, while Virginia pretty much married Barry straight out of high school.”
I perked up at the mention of the first husband. Finally, we were getting to the reason I was here.
“Barry,” Virginia sighed. “I still miss him to this day.”
“Before we start on Barry, could I have another drink?” Aunt Shirley asked.
I groaned. Why in the world I had to bring her to this interview, I don’t know. I needed to have a serious word with Hank when I got back to the office.
“Of course,” Dotty said. “I’ll make it for you. I’m gonna need another drink too if we’re going to talk about this. You guys go ahead and talk.”
No time like the present. “So, tell me about Barry.”
CHAPTER 7
* * *
Virginia got a faraway look in her eye and smiled. “Barry was seriously the love of my life. He was everything I ever wanted in a husband. He graduated with us, you see.”
Lovey got up and retrieved a box of tissue while Dotty came back with a refill for both her and Aunt Shirley.
“So before I tell my story, I want you to know that this time period spans over fifty years. While these stories may seem sad, please understand for me it’s fifty years worth of memories and love. I have two wonderful children, and every one of these men loved me and I loved them.”
I nodded and smiled at Virginia. “I understand. And that’s exactly what I want for you. I want you to tell your love story this Valentine’s Day.”
“Thank you.”
“So what happened with Barry?” Aunt Shirley demanded.
“What happened? I married him. And for a very short time, we were deliriously happy. See, Barry contracted tuberculosis as a little boy, and he never fully recovered from it. There was no vaccination back then like there is today. One day he came home from work—he was working at my daddy’s law office doing filing and legal paperwork for him—and he was very sick. To be honest, I wasn’t overly worried at the time. He was almost always getting the flu or pneumonia or bronchitis.” Virginia shrugged. “Unfortunately he just didn’t recover. He was sick one day, gone the next. We called the doctor—Lovey’s dad—and he and the girls came right over. We’d only been married a little over a year.” Virginia sighed and blew her nose. “Five months before my twentieth birthday, and I was already a widow.” She grabbed another Kleenex out of the box and dabbed her eyes. “I really, really loved him.”
Lovey soothingly patted Virginia’s hand while Dotty went to fill Virginia’s glass with another Old Fashioned.
“Yep,” Lovey added, “Dotty and I stayed throughout the night, taking turns sitting with Barry. Unfortunately everything we did just wasn’t enough. He died the next day.”
“What did your dad think happened?” I asked Lovey. “Was there an autopsy done?”
Lovey shook her head. “Honey, again these were different times. Barry contracted tuberculosis when he was a child. He was lucky to still be alive. We all knew it was a matter of time before Barry got so sick he couldn’t fully recover.”
“And Lovey’s right,” Virginia added. “Even Barry’s parents were surprised he lived as long as he did. A common cold could leave him incapacitated for weeks. There was extensive damage to his lungs from the TB.”
“And your second husband?” Aunt Shirley prodded.
Virginia quickly looked down at the table, saying nothing for a few minutes. “Stanley really was a good man. He just took the coward’s way out.”
Aunt Shirley frowned. “I see. And what drove him to that?”
Drove him to what? I don’t see anything.
“I honestly don’t know.” She suddenly looked frail and sad beyond her years. “Let me start at the beginning. See, it took me years to get over Barry’s death. I didn’t remarry until many years later. I was probably twenty-six or so when I met Stanley. He was a prosecuting attorney in Brywood, and my dad really liked him.” Virginia smiled softly and took another drink of her Old Fashioned. “And Daddy was right. Stanley was everything I could hope for. Juries loved him because he was so personable. In the seven years we were married, I had two kids—Stanley Junior and Rachael. And he loved those kids. With all his heart he loved those kids.”
“Cutest little things you ever saw,” Lovey added. Her round cherub face flushed from the alcohol.
“Stanley loved his job and he loved pampering me and the kids. I can’t remember once in the seven years we were married that he ever said a harsh word or yelled at either me or the kids. He loved us all so much.”
“He sounds wonderful,” I said. “What happened?”
Virginia swiped at her eyes. “I honestly don’t know. My mom had been sick a few days earlier, so I told Stanley I wanted to visit her and dad, and that the kids and I would be back Sunday night. My parents had moved to the country a few years before and were living in between Granville and Brywood. Stanley said that was fine. He had a trial on Monday he needed to prepare for. So I packed the car early Saturday morning and left. I talked with him briefly Saturday evening around four and everything was fine.”
“You doing okay, Virginia?” Dotty asked gruffly. “We can take a break if you need.”
Virginia shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “When the kids and I came home Sunday evening, I found him in his study. There were two empty bottles tipped over on his desk, and he’d shot himself in the head.”
Whoa!
“And you never had a red flag or anything?” Aunt Shirley demanded.
“I swear to you, no,” Virginia said.
“Neither did we,” Lovey added. “He always seemed so happy with his life.”
“So his death was ruled a suicide?” I asked gently.
Virginia nodded. “As much as I can’t believe it, yes.”
“And my God did those babies take it hard,” Dotty said and took a drink. “They may have just been youngins, but they cried for months after their daddy was gone.”
I picked up my Old Fashioned and swallowed past the lump in my throat. The burn of the liquor going down felt nice on my suddenly dry throat.
Virginia wiped her eyes with the wadded-up tissue. “I know it will be hard to shy around his death in your article, but please know that the Stanley that shot himself was not the Stanley that we all knew and loved. I have no idea what suddenly drove him to take his own life.”
“I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to write the article yet, but rest assured it will lift up the love you had and received from these men, not about their deaths.”
Virginia wiped her eyes again. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“And your third husband?” I asked as gently as I could. “What about him?”
All three ladies laughed, breaking the somber mood.
“Oh boy,” Lovey hooted, her cheeks jiggling with movement. “Where to start about him?”
“Bob was a partier. A good-time guy,” Virginia said. “He loved food and drinking. I married him when I was in my fifties.”
“I still miss his pasta primavera and cheesecake,” Dotty sighed.
Virginia set her drink down on an end table next to her. “Bob was the manager of the produce department at the local grocery store here in Granville. That’s how I met him. He was stacking apples, singing opera, and had such an air about him I was immediately drawn to him. Of course I’d seen him before—Granville is a small town with only one grocery store. I knew his wife had died years before and he was single, but I never had the nerve to approach him.”
“He sounds larger-than-life,” I said.
Virginia laughed. “He was actually. He was over six feet tall
and weighed nearly three hundred pounds. Anyway, one thing led to another, and three months later I was married. He loved to entertain. He did most of the cooking in the house which was fine by me.” She sobered and shook her head. “We’d been married five years when he suddenly died of a heart attack at our annual Christmas party we held every year.”
“Omigod!” I gasped. “He died in front of your guests?”
Virginia nodded her head. “But understand, it’s the way he would have wanted to go. Surrounded by his friends, his food and drink. The doctor had told us if Bob didn’t lose weight, his heart would eventually give out.”
Dotty swirled her drink slowly and methodically. “Went down right in the middle of your living room floor and pretty much died before he hit the ground. It was that sudden.”
“So shocking,” Lovey added.
“I miss those Christmas parties.” Dotty downed the last of her cocktail.
Lovey nodded. “He sure was a good time.” She broke out into a smile and nudged Virginia’s knee. “This calls for another round. Let’s have a drink and toast Bob.”
I did my best to try and keep up with the number of drinks these ladies had consumed, but I’d lost track. Thankfully I was still nursing my first drink.
“I promise not to make this article depressing,” I told Virginia as Dotty went to mix another round.
Virginia smiled. “Oh, honey, it’s not depressing. Love is never depressing. I loved every one of these men differently, and every one of them holds a very special place in my heart. I put myself out there each time because I believed love would conquer all. I still believe that. Love should never be skirted away from…it should be whole-heartedly embraced. Even if it doesn’t turn out like you thought it would, it’s still better to have loved than not.”
I looked at the clock. Aunt Shirley and I had been here about two hours. Hank would be leaving the office around five, so I had less than an hour to draw up an outline for him. “I guess we should be going. I think I have everything.”
Old Fashioned Murder (A Ryli Sinclair Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 4
