Murder Melts in Your Mouth

by Nancy Martin

Daddy said, “We do a very festive Thanksgiving, too. I presume all our tax issues will be settled by then. It’s only a matter of paperwork now, I’m sure. Nora sets a lovely table. She’s a miracle-worker with centerpieces. That is, if she doesn’t decide to house-sit for those peculiar friends of hers. What on earth would you do with yourself if you move into the city, Nora?”

  “Walk to work?” I said.

  “But think of all the joys of family living you’d be missing!”

  I was thinking precisely of those dubious joys when I told Daniel and Eric I’d look after their home, but I changed the subject. “Tierney, did you find an investor for Amazon Chocolate?”

  He settled down on the quilt again to sunbathe. “My friend the loan shark came through,” he said lightly. “A silent partner, I guess you could say. Amazon Chocolate’s going to survive.”

  Mama had been sharing the big umbrella with me, reading from a book with a tattered brown cover. Suddenly she gave an exclamation and sat up. “Here it is!”

  “Here what is?” Daddy inquired.

  She planted her forefinger onto the yellowed page. “Exactly the ceremony we need to have for Emma!”

  Emma’s shadow appeared over us, and she blocked the glare of the sun. In her hand was another can of ginger ale, fresh from a vending machine. “What kind of ceremony?”

  Mama’s sequined sunglasses sparkled. “A godparents’ incantation! At least, I think that’s what this is. My translation from the Inca text might be off.”

  “You’re reading an Inca text?”

  “No, Nora, this is an interpretation by the famous mentalist Charles Merriman—with footnotes in Incan symbols. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He was a famous nineteenth-century Jesuit who left the order to become a scholar in metaphysical beliefs of ancient cultures. That was before he turned to magic acts to make a few bucks. Of course, he lived out his days in a mental institution, but that was after he wrote this brilliant book.”

  “Sounds like a bestseller to me,” Emma said.

  Mama took off her sunglasses and pinned Emma with a disapproving glare. “Don’t you want your baby to have all the advantages? You know, a healthy appreciation for spiritual well-being begins in the womb, Emmaline.”

  Michael woke beside me and lifted the paperback book off his face. He squinted up at my sister. “Emmaline?”

  She kicked his ankle.

  Mama clapped her hands together smartly. “We need volunteers! Spiritual godparents, anyone?”

  “I nominate Nora,” Libby said in a shot.

  “And Mick,” Emma added. “If he’s going to make fun of me, he’s got to pay a price.”

  He laughed. “Sure, Emmaline.”

  Michael’s skin had turned a delicious shade of bronze in just a couple of hours. Stretched out beside me, he looked like a Roman god, but he appeared to be unaware of the effect he had on passersby. He rolled over on one elbow. “What do I have to do? Wave a palm frond at a virgin or something?”

  Mama frowned at her book. “Let’s see. First there’s something here about embracing the cosmic forces with an open heart and then…” She flipped a page. “Ah, do both of you solemnly swear to uphold peace in the universe and—and—oh, dear, I’ve lost my place. No, here it is. In the perpetual motion of the sun, moon and stars, you must take each other’s hand. Go on, do it!”

  Laughing, I reached for Michael’s hand.

  “In the sight of all who gather here, do you vow to forswear all others?”

  “Okay,” Michael said.

  “And pledge to remain joined despite all tribulations—and—let’s see here, tempests in storm-tossed seas?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Whatever that means.”

  “And you must revere this joyous bond every day of your life together, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”

  “Wait a minute,” Michael said. “This sounds—”

  Mama picked up the pace, rapidly bulldozing over his objections. “Do you love this woman above all others?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you, Nora, do you vow to spend the rest of your life bound in happiness to this man?”

  “Mama—”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do,” I said as Michael’s hand tightened around mine. “But—”

  “Then, by the blessings of this gathering, I hereby declare that you—”

  She flipped the page and said, “Oh, dear. I think this is the wrong ceremony. It says we can declare that you are joined for life. Does that mean…?”

  “Kiss her quick,” Jacque advised Michael. “Just in case it’s for real.”

  “Mama, what have you done?” I cried. “The Blackbird Curse!”

  My mother closed her book with a snap. “Whatever do you mean, Nora?”

  “The family curse! All the Blackbird women—our husbands die!”

  “Don’t be silly, darling. That old curse only counts when the father objects to the marriage. Or if the ceremony takes place during a leap year. And there’s something about Halley’s comet, too, but I’m not sure about that part.” She put her sunglasses back on and settled contentedly into her chair. “Your grandmother Blackbird was never very clear.”

  “Daddy?” Libby said. “Do you object to this marriage?”

  “Well, I keep hearing rumors about a jail sentence.” My father put on a stern face. “Just what’s that all about, young man?”

  “I can’t lie to you, sir. I’m going away for a little while. It’ll give me a chance to think about the kind of life I want to make for your beautiful daughter. But I expect to be back in time for that Christmas goose.”

  “And what are your prospects, may I ask?”

  “Prospects?”

  Tierney was laughing. “The newspapers say he’s taking over a whole family business.”

  “Is that true?” I asked hotly. “Is that why yesterday’s newspaper suspiciously disappeared?”

  “Nora—”

  “Sorry, Mick,” Tierney said. “I thought she knew.”

  “It’s just a few loose ends,” Michael assured me. “Hardly anything at all. I can take care of it from inside, no problem.”

  Michael kissed me, and I hesitated only for a moment before kissing him back. Libby brought out the chocolate-covered strawberries, and Jacque popped the cork from a bottle of chilled champagne. Emma gave me a hug, and I think she meant it.

  Daddy proposed a long-winded toast that ended with, “It’s wonderful to have a plumber in the family!”

  After we drank champagne from paper cups, Michael pulled me down to the edge of the water, and we waded into the surf. Children shrieked and splashed around us. An elderly couple stood ankle deep nearby. I saw Rawlins catch a wave, showing off. Watching him from her boogie board, Shawna caught sight of me and waved. I waved back.

  Michael said, “So this is it? As close to married as we can get?”

  “We’ll talk about it. When I come to visit you in jail.” I took his hand as a wave splashed against our knees. I looked at the horizon and breathed deeply of the sea air.

  Michael said, “You okay?”

  I tipped my face up to him. I had learned to love many people in spite of their flaws. Somehow, that realization made me ready to have my own family now.

  “Yes,” I said. “Let’s be happy.”