“Well, you and I know that,” the taller woman whined, “but, evidently, Rita thought differently.”
Shades of Bitsy Duhe, Charlotte thought, as she tried again to tune out the women’s malicious gossip session, but again it was no use. Whether she liked it or not, she was a captive audience.
“Anyway,” the taller woman continued, “no matter how many times Mimi denied it, Rita just couldn’t get past it. And we both know that Rita is not exactly the soul of discretion. She claimed that she’d caught ’em in the act.”
“Nooo,” the shorter woman drawled in a tone of utter disbelief.
“Oh, yeah,” the other woman replied.
“But if she caught them doing it, then it must be true.”
The taller woman shook her head. “Not hardly. Rita has been known to lie. Regardless, Rita, like a ninny, went and blabbed it to anyone and everyone who would listen.”
“Aw, come on now. Why on earth would she do that? You’d think she’d be too humiliated to want anyone to know.”
“I kid you not. That’s exactly what she did, mostly, I suspect, to humiliate Mimi and cause her problems with Gordon. Of course, poor Mimi found out. But even worse, Gordon found out what Rita had done, and woe to anyone who upsets his Mimi. Suffice it to say, Rita’s little scheme backfired. Gordon didn’t believe any of her gossip, and since he couldn’t get back at Rita directly, he got back at her through Don.
“Why, Don was Gordon’s right-hand man,” she continued. “But after Gordon heard what Rita had done, he made Don’s life a living hell. First he fired him. Then he made sure that no other dealership in the city would touch him with a ten-foot pole.” With a sigh, she added, “Needless to say, the two couples aren’t friends any more, and ever since, Rita has had it in for Mimi. And you can mark my words, that’s the only reason that Rita wanted to be HHS president to begin with. Just her little way of getting back at Mimi.”
The shorter woman shook her head. “Poor Don. That’s just awful.”
Charlotte washed the last of the dirty dessert plates and rinsed it. In her opinion awful was too tame a word. More like cruel and downright nasty.
“But what on earth made Rita think that she could win against Mimi in the first place,” the shorter woman continued, “especially after all that Mimi’s done for HHS over the years?”
The other woman shrugged. “Who knows,” she said, as she swirled what was left of the wine in her glass. “But I’m here to tell you, you can bet your prize roses that’s not the end of it. No siree, not by a long shot.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
The taller woman glanced around the room, then leaned closer to her friend and lowered her voice. “I overheard Doreen Mires tell Karen Douglas that if Rita didn’t win, Rita and some of her cohorts were going to quit and form their own garden club.”
“Shh, the others might hear you,” said the shorter woman, as she glanced around, but the taller woman waved away her concerns.
“They’re probably in the parlor,” she said.
The shorter woman frowned. “So how come Doreen and Karen know so much?”
The taller woman shrugged. “Maybe they’re in on it. Maybe they’ve hooked up with Rita.”
“But if I recall correctly, don’t Doreen’s and Karen’s husbands work for Gordon too?”
The taller woman nodded. “Yep, they each manage one of his dealerships.”
“Well, if what you said about what Gordon did to Don is true, then Karen and Doreen had better watch their step if they know what’s good for them. I know I would.”
“You’re right about that,” the other woman agreed. “If Gordon thought for an instant that Doreen and Karen were in cahoots with Rita or had turned on Mimi, he’d do the same to their husbands as he did to Don in a New York minute. Why, I heard—”
“Hey, you two.” Another woman approached the two gossips, and they both plastered fake smiles on their faces. “I think our twenty minutes are up,” she said. “Everyone is heading back to the parlor.”
To Charlotte’s relief, the two gossips followed the other woman, and within moments, the rest of the women in the dining room wandered back to the parlor.
In the kitchen, Charlotte stood at the sink and stared at the dirty wine glasses stacked on top of the cabinet. Had what she’d just overheard been vicious gossip, or was it true? If it were true, then what she’d heard had been a far different picture of Gordon Adams than the one that June had painted in her conversation with Mimi on Monday. According to June, Mimi’s husband was the salt of the earth—generous, loving, and protective. But if the gossip were true, then Gordon Adams was a ruthless, vindictive man, a man who shouldn’t be crossed.
And what about Mimi? Was Mimi just an innocent victim, a woman who was the object of another woman’s unfounded jealousy, a woman in need of the protection of her powerful husband?
Charlotte thought back to the first day she’d met Mimi…the dead trees…the stinky flowers she’d been planting to get back at her neighbor…Charlotte shook her head. Hard to imagine that the woman she’d met that day needed anybody to protect her. So which was the real Mimi, and which was the real Gordon?
Who knows and who cares. Just mind your own business, do your job, and for Pete’s sake, stop wasting time.
“Okay, okay, enough already,” Charlotte muttered in response to the voice of reason in her head.
A minute later, the now familiar rapping sound of Mimi’s gavel echoed from the parlor. Evidently, she had finally rejoined the group and was calling the meeting back to order.
“Thank goodness,” Charlotte whispered. She glanced at her watch and wondered how much longer the rest of the meeting would take. As far as she was concerned, the sooner it was over, the better. She rubbed her lower back and grimaced. For one thing, she was tired, and being on her feet for the past hour without a break had made the dull ache in her back grow more painful. Visions of a nice long soak in a hot tub of water danced through her head.
“So get busy,” she told herself. If she could get the dining room and kitchen cleaned up now, once the meeting was over, straightening the parlor should only take a few minutes. Then she could finally go home.
The water in the sink had grown cold, so Charlotte drained the sink, refilled it with hot sudsy water, and placed the dirty wine glasses in to soak. Then, she headed for the dining room to collect the remaining dishes.
Since she’d already cleared out most of the plates and platters, all that were left were a few coffee cups and saucers. Clearing off the buffet was her first priority, and as she stacked the cups and saucers that hadn’t been used back into the china cabinet, she heard Mimi announce that the group needed to decide on which charity would be the recipient of the proceeds from the upcoming fall plant sale.
“I think that new women’s shelter in the warehouse district would be a good place to sponsor,” one woman said. “It’s a worthy cause and would gain HHS a lot of respect in the community, not to mention a lot of publicity.”
“I agree with Doreen,” another voice chimed in. “It’s only been open for a couple of weeks, and I heard that it’s almost full already.”
“That’s certainly a worthy project, Karen,” Mimi said, “but I had another project in mind. The renovations on the old Hebert plantation upriver near Luling are just about finished, and since our group’s function is the preservation of heritage plants, I was hoping that the money we raise could be used to help with the landscaping. We could also donate some of the plants that are needed.” Mimi paused, then continued, “If there aren’t any other projects you all want to consider, then I’ll open up the discussion for the two that have been proposed.”
Charlotte only caught bits and pieces of the discussion that followed as she moved between the kitchen and the dining room, but what she did hear was heated and fraught with tension. If nothing else, the women were passionate about their convictions. And they were divided right down the middle, with one faction su
pporting Mimi’s plantation project, and one supporting Doreen and Karen’s women’s shelter.
Charlotte was polishing the buffet in the dining room when Mimi called for a vote. “We’ll vote by a show of hands,” she told the group.
In the dining room, Charlotte nodded her approval as she removed the crocheted tablecloth. Live and learn. No secret ballots this time.
“Okay, then,” she heard Mimi say, “it’s agreed that the Hebert plantation will be the beneficiary of our annual fall sale.”
“Ah, excuse me, Mimi.” Charlotte recognized the voice as that of the woman who had suggested the women’s shelter. If she remembered right, the woman’s name was Doreen.
“Karen and I have an appointment and are going to have to leave.”
“But, Doreen, we still have a lot of planning left,” Mimi argued.
“That may be, but I’m sure that you all can finish planning everything just fine without us.”
“But—”
“Are you coming, Karen?” Doreen asked pointedly.
“You betcha,” Karen answered. “I’ve had just about as much of this as I can stand for one day.”
Either play the game my way, or I’ll just take my ball and go home. In the dining room, Charlotte shook her head as she recapped the lemon oil and placed it back into her supply carrier. These women are unreal, she thought. Just like a bunch of children.
The moment the front door closed, the bees in the parlor began buzzing with a vengeance. Then the rapping of Mimi’s gavel started.
“Ladies,” Mimi cried. “Ladies, please come to order.”
With another shake of her head, Charlotte headed for the kitchen to wash and dry the last of the wine glasses. Once that was done and she had put them away, the only chores left were washing the coffee urn and cleaning the parlor.
Once again she noted that the silver urn needed polishing, but that would be a job for another day, she decided. For today, a good washing would have to suffice.
She glanced toward the direction of the parlor. Maybe she could go ahead and get started on the parlor even though the women were still meeting. If nothing else, she could pick up any cups and saucers and wine glasses that might be in there.
Should she or shouldn’t she? she wondered, but as she reached for the coffee urn, a sudden, unexpected wave of weakness came over her, and she gripped the edge of the sink instead.
Low blood sugar. She grimaced. It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced the feeling, and she immediately recognized it for what it was. Being a borderline diabetic wasn’t a problem most of the time as long as she took her little pill each day and stuck to her diet. But sometimes, like now, for whatever reason, her glucose level would plummet, leaving her shaky and weak.
Charlotte sighed. She’d learned to keep a supply of glucose tablets handy for just such rare occasions, but naturally, she was out. She had intended to get some—she really had—but never got around to it.
“So much for cleaning the parlor,” she muttered. Besides, Mimi might not appreciate the interruption while the meeting was still in progress. What she needed at the moment was a jolt of sugar and a few minutes to recover. Maybe now would be a good time for a break.
Charlotte eyed the coffee urn again. More than likely a bit of caffeine with a half teaspoon of sugar would give her what she needed. And there was probably just enough left in the urn for a cup. Charlotte poured the coffee into a cup and spooned in a bit of sugar, then seated herself at the kitchen table. As she sipped the coffee, she noted that at least the pain in her back had eased to a dull throb.
Low blood sugar, backaches…“You’re turning into a sickly old woman,” she complained, as she took a few more sips of coffee.
Charlotte had just finished her coffee and was feeling somewhat better when she heard a commotion in the hallway. Maybe the meeting was finally over, she thought. If it was over, she figured that by the time she washed the coffee urn, the women should be cleared out of the parlor. And once she straightened the parlor, she could finally go home.
When Charlotte entered the parlor, only Mimi and June were left. Mimi, looking a bit tired and drawn, had slipped off her shoes and was sitting on the sofa with her feet propped up on the coffee table. In her lap was a spiral notebook and pen. June was sitting in a winged-back chair adjacent to the sofa.
With a brief glance around the room, Charlotte surveyed the damage. There were a few wine glasses and cups and saucers that needed clearing away, and once she returned the extra chairs to the dining room, the only thing left to do would be to vacuum.
Other than a brief smile and nod to acknowledge Charlotte’s presence, Mimi’s attention was on the notebook in her lap. “I had hoped to finish up today,” Mimi told June. “But what with all of the mess going on, there was just no way.”
“We still have a couple of weeks,” June offered. “And hopefully everyone will show up on Monday again.”
Mimi frowned. “That reminds me.” She glanced over at Charlotte. “I’ll need you to stay late again on Monday, Charlotte. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Charlotte told her, “but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
June leaned forward. “Ah, Mimi, I hate to bring this up, but…”
“But what?”
“It’s about Rita.”
Mimi groaned. “Do you have to? I’m so sick of that woman I could scream.”
“Me too,” June agreed. “And you know I wouldn’t even mention her name if I didn’t think it was important.”
Charlotte began gathering the cups and saucers and wine glasses. Maybe June was going to confess to rigging the election, and if she did confess, then that would mean that Mimi wasn’t in on the fix.
“Okay, okay,” Mimi said. “Let’s have it and get it over with.”
“First of all, I heard some talk that she’s forming her own garden club.”
Mimi shrugged. “More power to her, but I doubt if she can dig up any members—any who have money, that is. She simply doesn’t have the right social connections.”
“Don’t be so blind, Mimi. She already has nearly half the members of HHS for a following—the vote count proved that. And I suspect that half includes Karen and Doreen. But neither has committed herself yet, at least not openly. They’re both afraid of what Gordon might do if he finds out.”
“I’ve halfway suspected as much about those two all along,” Mimi replied. “But they had better watch their step. If I find out for sure that they’re in cahoots with Rita—or I should say, if Gordon finds out—then their husbands could find themselves standing in the unemployment lines along with Don Landers. That woman has caused us enough misery and embarrassment already, and I won’t have her infecting anyone else with her lies.”
“Ah, speaking of lies.” June grimaced. “That brings me to the other thing I wanted to discuss. You heard that pointed remark she made about cheaters?”
Charlotte’s ears perked up, and no matter how many times she told herself to go about her business and ignore the two women, her curiosity got the best of her. Glancing at the tray full of dirty dishes, she began rearranging them. Only so they would be balanced evenly, she told herself, and not just because she wanted to hear Mimi’s response.
Mimi sighed deeply. “Yeah, I heard it, and you and I both know she meant more than just the election.”
“Exactly,” June agreed. “And so did everyone else. I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but she’s still spreading those awful rumors about you and Don. I heard that she swore she’d seen the two of you together just last week.”
“Oh, pu-lease,” Mimi groaned. “The woman is obviously a nut case. Anyone with a brain can see that. And she’s jealous,” she added. “She’s so jealous that she can’t see straight.” She shook her head. “Don is a nice enough man, and I had considered him a friend once upon a time, but that was before Rita became obsessed with the idea that he and I were having an affair. Why, the woman wou
ld have to be crazy to think that I’d risk everything I have with Gordon for someone like Don.”
So much for a confession from June about the votes, Charlotte thought, as she picked up the tray and headed for the kitchen. But maybe June didn’t need to confess. Maybe Mimi had known about the fix all along.
Judge not lest ye be judged, so just stop it, Charlotte.
Once in the kitchen, Charlotte unloaded the tray and washed and dried the remaining glasses, cups, and saucers. She was putting the last wine glass away in the china cabinet when Mimi entered the dining room, a check in her hand.
“All that’s left is to vacuum the rug in the parlor,” Charlotte told her. “Then I’ll be leaving.” She closed the door to the china cabinet and faced Mimi.
Mimi shook her head and waved a dismissing hand. “That’s okay. Don’t bother vacuuming. The rug is fine. Besides, it’s getting late.” She handed Charlotte the check. “I included a little extra for all of your help today.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thank you.”
Mimi nodded. “You earned it, and don’t forget, I need you to stay late on Monday again. We’ve still got some details to iron out about the fall charity sale.”
“See you Monday then,” Charlotte said, and within minutes, she had gathered her supply carrier and vacuum from the kitchen and was headed out the door.
All day the van had been baking in the heat. When Charlotte opened the back door of the vehicle to load her supplies, the heat inside hit her like a blast from a furnace.
Any other time, Charlotte would have opened all of the doors to release some of the heat before getting inside, but she was so thoroughly disgusted by all that she’d heard and witnessed the past two hours that all she could think of was getting home.
At home she could forget about Mimi, June, Rita, and HHS. At home she could take a shower and relax and savor the peace and quiet.
Chapter 5
The weekend had passed much too fast, Charlotte decided, as she knocked on the Adams’s front door on Monday morning.
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