Jack Loves Callie Tender (A Southern Cousins Mystery prequel, companion guide and cookbook)

by Webb, Peggy

  I hurried back inside. “His bike’s out there. Where does he live, Lovie?”

  “I don’t know exactly.”

  “Think, dear heart.”

  “A small town, I believe.”

  Two things I learned about Lovie that day. She eats under stress, but she keeps her wits about her. Considering that we now had only fifteen minutes till the ceremony, and she was Callie’s right hand gal, she was remarkably absent of hysterics.

  I’d never had family, had never even wanted one till I met Cal. But it was beginning to look like my bride came with a bonus. I was going to enjoy having Lovie as a cousin.

  “The guy knew enough to tail your cousin and he knew about the wedding,” I said, hoping to jog her memory. “That would indicate he’s either from somewhere nearby or he has connections to someone who is.”

  “Pontotoc!” Lovie yelled. “He’s from Pontotoc.”

  “Good work, dear heart.” Charlie pulled out his cell phone, and I didn’t have to ask to know he was calling in reinforcements from The Company. They’d have a chopper in the air within minutes of his call. Looking for a green hearse somewhere between Mooreville and Pontotoc.

  “Charlie, he’s either got an accomplice who will take his bike back, or he’s going to ditch the hearse somewhere close and walk back to get it himself.” I turned to Jon. “Was anybody with him?”

  “Not unless they were waiting outside or in the chapel.”

  “It’s unlikely,” Lovie said. “Chef Clemson’s a known loner. Probably because nobody can stand to be around him.”

  Lovie was spitting so much fire, she looked like she could caramelize crème brulee without a torch. I was appreciating her more by the minute.

  Charlie spoke into the cell phone. “Check Ruby Nell’s farm and Gas, Grits and Guts. We think he’ll ditch the hearse and double back for his bike.”

  I was itching to get in the helicopter and be there when they nabbed the cake thief. After I finished with Chef Clemson, he’d never mess with another Valentine.

  But for once, I had to be content to stay out of the action. I didn’t want my bride to walk down the aisle and not find a groom. Cal was not the kind of woman you left standing at the altar.

  And if I did, only temporarily, I feared I’d never get a second chance.

  Meanwhile, Charlie was still issuing commands on the phone. I held out my hand and he passed it to me.

  “Big ‘Un, is that you?” I said.

  “It’s me, Panther. Whatever you want, name it and you’ve got.”

  “Get that cake back to the Wildwood Baptist church a.s.a.p. And then hold the culprit till after my wedding. I’d like a word with him.”

  “You got it. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”

  Before I signed off, I turned to Charlie. “Are we done here?”

  “Done.”

  I signed off with my Company cohort, handed Charlie his phone and straightened my tie.

  “Then let’s go. There’s a wedding I need to attend.”

  I put the search for the wedding day thief out of my mind. It’s not every day a man gets married, especially a man who had sworn he would never walk down the aisle.

  But that was before I met Callie Valentine.

  I shook Charlie’s hand then headed back to the dressing room where I’d spend my last few minutes before I made Cal my bride.

  o0o

  My human dad makes everything sound easy. You’d have to know Jack to understand that he skips over the parts of the story that would draw attention to himself.

  But I’ve learned a few tidbits from years of being his confidante. And what I didn’t learn by being lending an ear, I found out by judicious eavesdropping.

  The real low down is that ordinarily The Company doesn’t use its agents and one of its helicopters, to boot, to search for a missing wedding cake. But Jack is their premiere agent, the one who has risked more, dared more and succeeded more than any of five of their best men put together. What Jack wants, Jack gets.

  Currently, he wants Callie back. And I’m doing my part to make that happen.

  Actually, the whole town is in a conspiracy to get them reconciled. And no wonder!

  Most of them were at the wedding, and to hear them tell it, it was the kind of wedding you never forget.

  Since Fayrene was a principle player in the secret search for the thief, I’ll tell her version first.

  o0o

  Fayrene

  There I was, standing in the dressing holding back information that would have had any other woman passed out on the floor receiving artificial perspiration. But years of being the driving force behind Gas, Grits and Guts had given me an advantage over ordinary women. Business sense plus a very good set of NBA made me the perfect one to keep Ruby Nell from going into wisteria. The bridesmaid was missing and there was no sign of the man who was going to give away the bride.

  “It’s not like Lovie to abandon Callie like this,” Ruby Nell said, which didn’t do a thing but irrigate Callie.

  “Holy cow, Mama. If you don’t calm down, you’re going to make me nervous.”

  “Callie’s right, Ruby Nell. Calm down. Lovie’s in charge of the deception. She’s bound to have a dozen last minute details to tend to.”

  All the while I was being calm as a cantaloupe, I was trying to keep from breaking out in a sweat, myself.

  The church was air conditioned, but it didn’t feel like it. Thank the Lord somebody had the forthright to bring an oscillating fan. I went over to stand in front of it and cool off. I was still worried about getting sweat circles under the arms of my out-of-town silk dress.

  About the time I was worried that the thief had moved from stealing wedding cakes and hearses into kidnapping – a grand lark if I ever saw one – Lovie came strolling in as if nothing had happened.

  I was full of questions, but I had sense enough to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to spoil the day.

  Lovie winked at me and I winked back. One of the reasons I’m considered Mooreville royalty is I’m a minx when it comes to holding back gossip that is nobody’s business.

  Ruby Nell began asking her a million questions, but Callie just said, “Mama, calm down. You’re making so much racket, we’ll never hear the wedding march.”

  Their little argument wouldn’t have stopped Ruby Nell, but Charlie did. He walked in about that time and held out his arm to Callie.

  “Are you ready, ladies?”

  “I thought you’d never get here, Charlie Valentine.”

  Ruby Nell pretended to act huffy, but I could tell she meant exactly the opposite.

  Charlie winked at me. “After you, ladies.”

  I guess you’re thinking it’s strange that I got to walk in with the mother of the bride. But there’s one thing about the Valentine family that you need to get straight. When it comes to making a choice between tradition and friendship, they choose their friends every time.

  Lucky me. I had a front row seat to the most romantic wedding of the century.

  Jack was the handsomest man I’d ever seen in a tuxedo. Several edible women among the guests let out a sigh you could hear clear to Gas, Grits and Guts. If I’d been younger, I’d have been swooning too.

  And Callie looked like a princess bride, thanks to my clever last-minute altercations.

  The ceremony itself had me and Ruby Nell both dabbing at our eyes. Discreetly, of course. We’re not the kind of women to steal somebody else’s show.

  And what a show it was. The bride and groom wrote their own vows. If ever anything was more beautiful than Jack telling Callie she was the only star in his sky, his true soul mate, I don’t know what it would be.

  Jarvetis could learn a thing from that man. The only time he ever gets sentimental is when he talks to Trey, his redbone hound dog.

  Of course, during the whole time I had the missing wedding cake in the back of my mind. I wondered if they’d find it in time for the deception.

  Chapter Nine

&nbs
p; Jack and Callie have both remained silent on the subject of their actual vows. I guess they consider that part of the wedding sacred. Or maybe they can’t talk about the vows because it brings up memories so powerful they’d have no choice but to move back in together where they belong.

  Of course, Jack’s at home waiting for us even as I speak, but Callie says it’s temporary, even if he did put the star on her Christmas tree.

  I wouldn’t bet the cotton fields on that one. (“Hmm, catchy title,” the clever dog said with a knowing smirk.)

  Jack’s wedding to Callie was as famous as mine to Priscilla back when I had two legs instead of four. The only difference was venue. Theirs was famous in Mooreville and surrounding area; my wedding celebration spread from Graceland around the world.

  I’m not going to keep you in suspense about my human parents’ wedding cake. But first I have to correct a few mistakes in Fayene’s version of the wedding.

  Lovie’s the one to do it. But before I share her story with you, I’m issuing fair warning. I’m the only one she’s ever told, canine or human. You have to swear not to repeat a word.

  o0o

  Lovie

  Aunt Ruby Nell and Fayrene sat in the mother-of-the-bride section and bawled like dying heifers the whole ceremony. After Daddy sat down from giving away the bride, he tried to shush them, but when have I ever seen those two pay any attention to what anybody says?

  Most of the time they act like they’re the Queen of Everything. That’s my title. But I’m big enough to let them go on with their misconceptions. If it makes them happy, who am I to interfere?

  I’ll have to say that my cousin looked more beautiful – and happier – than I’ve ever seen her.

  And when they started saying those vows, I almost cried, myself. Of course, I was only half listening. That may sound tacky of me, but you’ll have to remember I worried that the cake I’d worked so hard to make perfect was at this very minute being hauled all over northeast Mississippi. We’d be lucky to get it back with all the layers intact, let alone the bride and groom I’d placed on top.

  And another thing…Callie had said her vows to me so many times I knew them by heart.

  “Listen to this, Lovie,” she’d say. Then she’d rattle off the whole spiel and ask if she needed to change anything.

  “No. They’re perfect.”

  “Are you sure? I was thinking maybe they were too sentimental.”

  “Last I heard, a wedding is supposed to be a sentimental occasion.”

  I finally got Callie satisfied about what she’d written. It was Jack who was the bigger problem. Three days before the wedding, he came to me in a panic.

  “I’m no writer. I need help.”

  He was not telling a lie. I tried subtle guidance, but when that didn’t work, I gave up and wrote the vows myself.

  On the big day, I had to pinch myself from mouthing the words along with Jack. I was pleasantly surprised to discover he had added some nice touches.

  I’ll carry the secret to my grave about my part in authoring the groom’s vows. Callie would die.

  I’m happy to say I nailed Jack’s vows. By the time he was finished pledging his love to my cousin, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

  It was a perfect way to prime the crowd for the love song.

  Jack didn’t know Callie was going to sing to him. And he sure didn’t expect me to lend a good alto harmony to her first soprano on the chorus. But the best part is that Cal wrote the song. I’ve always told her she could have been a famous singer, but she’s happy running her beauty shop. Besides, who am I to make suggestions about anybody’s life?

  I was well on my way to being a concert pianist when I got so far off the track I can’t even hear the train.

  The song was a huge hit. It didn’t surprise me one bit when the guests stood up and clapped. One of them even yelled, “Encore.” Roy Jessup who owns Mooreville’s Feed and Seed, I think.

  The preacher had to ask for silence so the bride and groom could hear him pronounce them man and wife. When he said, “You may kiss the bride,” everybody stood up again, clapping and cheering him on.

  Jack didn’t disappoint them either. No church peck for those two. Watching them kiss you’d have bet your life’s savings they’d spend of the rest of their lives in marital bliss.

  Of course, you know what happened about all that.

  What you’re wondering is what happened to the cake?

  After I’d marched back down the aisle, I made a bee-line for the reception hall. And there was the cake, smack dab in the middle of the table. But it was not a cake to make a caterer proud. It tilted dangerously to the left, and the roses on the bottom layer looked as if somebody had flattened them with a spatula…or a big old Chef Clemson- style thumb.

  “Shut the doors,” I shouted. “And don’t let anybody in here for five minutes.”

  Jon was already at my side with the tools of my trade. As I set to work, I noticed dangerous looking men in aviator sunglasses back in the kitchen. Probably guarding the thief.

  But I didn’t let myself get sidetracked. What I did was pull off a miracle. By the time the doors opened even Callie didn’t know that the wedding cake had been on a wild ride in Fayrene’s hearse.

  The rat who did it would have to wait. I wasn’t about to let him spoil my celebration with Cal.

  She and Jack were glowing. He hugged me extra tight, and whispered, “Thanks.”

  Maybe Callie heard him. Maybe not. But I’m the only one who knew what he meant.

  As soon as I could, I slipped off to the kitchen. The sight of another chef handcuffed and dejected took thoughts of revenge right out of my head. All the ways I’d planned to make him suffer, all the nasty things I’d plan to say congealed into two sentences.

  “Looks like you’ve had a bad day. Can I get you a piece of wedding cake?”

  He declined, and I walked out. I figured it would be a long time before I’d see Chef Cleat Clemson at cooking competitions. If ever.

  I spotted my cousin chatting with Aunt Ruby Nell and Daddy, and headed in that direction. On the way I passed Jack heading into the kitchen.

  I’ll never know what he said to the wedding thief. All I can say is that Chef Cleat Clemson left Pontotoc, and hasn’t been seen around these parts since. Some say after he paid his dues to justice, he left the country. I wouldn’t know, and don’t care to find out.

  All I know is Callie would soon be tossing the wedding bouquet, probably aiming it right at me. It would take some fancy footwork on my part, but I had no intention of catching it.

  o0o

  Callie did aim the bouquet at Lovie, and she was accurate, too. It landed right in Lovie’s hands. But she fumbled around till she got it tossed off to one of the Moffett girls. Stories vary about which one.

  My money is on Leonora, who takes every opportunity to stop by the beauty shop when Jack is in town. She’s rumored – by Fayrene and Ruby Nell – to have stolen more than one woman’s man in the small town of Mooreville, Mississippi.

  But I have news for her. She’s not about to steal my human daddy from my human mom. Let her try, and she’ll be walking on legs without ankles.

  Besides, Jack wants only one woman.

  As we pull into the driveway, I see him waiting at the front porch entrance, standing under a sprig of mistletoe that wasn’t there when we left.

  “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be mistaken for a courting man.” Callie sounds like she’s complaining, but I hear the upbeat in her voice, see the way she lifts her shoulders and smiles.

  She parks and then comes around to open my door. “Come on, Elvis. Let’s get that man inside where he belongs.”

  She’s got that right. If I have anything to say about it – and I plan to have plenty – the next time around I’ll be best dog at the altar and the nuptials will stick.

  I heave my nimble self out of the Dodge Ram and give my dog collar a little shake, rattle and roll. Look out, everybody. Elvis
has left the building.

  -The End-

  o0o

  Enjoy these great cake recipes from Lovie’s Luscious Eats!

  Lovie’s Shortcut Version of Chocolate Cherry Cake

  Note from Elvis: Lovie’s really, really, really fattening recipe. If you gain fifteen pounds with one bite, don’t blame me. Blame my fan Cindy from Palmer, Alaska. This is her great recipe!

  Cake:

  I box of Devil’s food cake mix

  1 21-ounce can of cherry pie filling

  1 t. almond extract

  2 eggs, beaten

  Combine: l box of Devil’s food cake mix, 1 (21) oz. can of cherry pie filling, 1 t. almond extract and 2 beaten eggs. Mix well then pour in 13 x 9 pan and bake at 350 degrees for 45 min.

  Frosting:

  I c. sugar

  5 T. butter

  1/3 c. milk

  1 c. chocolate chips

  Chopped pecans

  Frosting: In saucepan combine: l c. sugar, 5 T. butter and l/3 c. milk.

  Boil l minute, stirring constantly. Stir in l c. chocolate chips until melted. Pour hot mix over warm cake and sprinkle with chopped nuts.

  Elvis’ Ooey Gooey Peanut Butter Banana Cake

  Note from Elvis: This recipe is from long-time fan, June Dearman, a member of the Tupelo Elvis Fan Club. June loves to tell about the time I was appearing in New Orleans when she was just a schoolgirl. All the girls had heard I was coming, and as I drove by the school in my limo, they were outside in the school yard doing a cheer that went something like this: “E – L – V – I – S. Who’s the best? E- L-V-I-S.” Of course, that was back in the days of sideburns and sequined jumpsuits. But I can guarantee if I put a little swivel in my hips and showed up at the Silver Moon Club in Tupelo where my fans now meet, I could still give them a thrill. After all, four legs twitching are better than two!

  1 box yellow cake mix ½ c. creamy peanut butter