Bill Hayes walked over. “I hope you’ll be staying for dinner. Tony is making a rib roast big enough for a small army.”
“So you’re Marjory’s husband,” Brax said. “Matching golf clothing—just as we were told.”
“Dinner will be served in the garage.” Tony laughed as he joined us.
“Garage, huh?” Austin said as they moseyed in that direction. The pole barn-sized garage had a bar and pool table at one end. Tables and chairs had been set up. Metal antique signs hung on the walls and shelves displayed collectible steins.
Eleanor and I walked back into the house and helped Elsie and Marjory carry the side dishes and put them on an empty table covered with a disposable tablecloth.
“This was more food that I expected,” I said as I set down two bowls of lettuce, one containing a spring mix and the other iceberg.
Everyone clapped when Tony carried in the rib roast and stood at the ready to slice it for us.
Austin was seated across from Henry, and the way he looked at Henry was nothing short of admiration.
I led the line for the food and was satisfied when I was the first to sit down. The rib roast melted in my mouth. “This is so good, Tony,” I exclaimed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like it before.”
“Rib roast is the best if you slow cook it. I know we all tend to want to make something much easier.”
“Are you a chef?” Brax asked.
“No. I stay at home most of the time.”
“I’ve been trying to tell Tony he needs to start a catering business. Helping with the fish fry in town doesn’t count,” I said.
“I’ve never lived in a small town,” Austin admitted. “But a fish fry sounds great. I hope they’ll have one while we’re here.”
“There will be one this Friday,” Tony said. “All the money goes to fund the local senior citizens who need help with utility bills.”
“That’s a great charity. I’d love to get involved,” Austin said.
Henry glanced up and narrowed his eyes at Austin, even if only slightly.
“And I’d love to get a few recipes from you. Maybe we could talk later over a drink. They must have somewhere in town where you can get a cold one.”
Henry sighed. “Tony’s too busy to meet you for a drink.”
“Oh, are you two friends?”
“We’re ... together.”
“That’s Henry’s way of saying I’m his house bitch,” Tony exclaimed with a haughty look.
“I’ve never called you that, Tony, and you know it. Tony is my —.”
“Husband?” Austin asked.
“I was going to say significant other,” Henry said as he walked over to Tony. “Why don’t you get something to eat? You’ve worked hard preparing this meal.”
Tony sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve been touchy of late. I really appreciate you taking time off this week. We should go sailing.”
“But I thought you got seasick.”
“You’re right about that.” Tony laughed.
I wasn’t able to take my eyes off Tony and Henry. It was quite clear how much they loved one another, but they rarely displayed it publicly. They were well accepted in Tawas and it was great to see Henry involved with Jack. Before Jack and Elsie got together, he lived at Henry’s house. Jack had never been a kind man. He might be described as spunky if the speaker was inclined toward politeness, but grumpy old man would perhaps be more a more apt description... Eleanor had tangled with him verbally for years. Jack was known more for dating much younger women, and when word got around they were paid to date him, it caused people to laugh at him behind his back.
Elsie and Jack had a thing years ago, and he hadn’t been exactly truthful about the status of his marriage at the time. When Elsie discovered the truth, she ended things quickly. Fast forward forty years and Elsie and Jack reconnected in big way. Both Eleanor and I were shocked how quickly things progressed. She even moved him into her house temporarily. Henry bought his father a house, and they lived there now, but after a small electrical fire Jack’s son is having the house rewired. So now they’re back at Elsie’s temporarily.
I strolled over to where Brax and Austin were seated. “So tell us something about yourselves.”
“You already know all about me,” Jack grumbled. “Too much actually. If that Eleanor butts into my business anymore I’ll —.”
“I haven’t butted into your business in a long time,” Eleanor gasped. “Not since we doubted Elsie’s sanity for getting involved with the likes of you.”
“Whatever you say, Tuna Lady,” Jack shot back.
Eleanor whipped a slice of Italian bread at Jack’s head. It bounced off and landed perfectly on his plate.
“Now play nice,” Elsie said. “And I’ll have you know I haven’t lost my mind. I actually love Jack, and he’s made me quite happy.”
“The same goes for me, blue eyes.” Jack grinned.
“I can see what Roman was talking about,” Brax said. “I wish my grandparents were that much fun. I was raised in Reno; my father was a professional poker player.”
“Oh really?” Eleanor gushed. “That sounds like fun.”
“It sounds lonely to me,” I said. “Children aren’t allowed in casinos.”
“They are if my uncle is the pit boss.”
“That’s a horrible place for a child to be,” Elsie said. “They’re lucky something awful didn’t happen to you.”
“I was lucky all right; lucky at slot machines. Old folks paid me money to stand next to them when they played. They said I was good luck, and I pocketed a sum if they won big.”
“So how did you wind up in California?” Henry asked.
“My uncle has a bungalow in Los Angeles.”
“Where you went to college?” Eleanor asked wistfully.
“I took odd jobs and in the evenings wrote short stories. I was hoping to publish them until I met Austin and he suggested that I try my hand at writing screenplays.”
“I had a few years of experience with writing screenplays,” Austin said. “There was this cafe where all the hipsters hung out. Most of them artistic types ... writers ... artists. We’ve never wanted to write for a major movie. We were working toward landing a writing gig for a sitcom.”
“Or so we’d hoped,” Brax said. “I’m so glad we met Roman Douglas at the cafe. He goes there to scout for new talent, and he took a chance on us.”
“So here we are,” Austin finished. “I don’t have some great Hollywood story to share with you.”
“He’s a private person. That’s all you’ll get out of him.”
“That’s enough for me,” I said.
“It’s time for dessert,” Elsie announced.
We helped clear the table and put away the food before Elsie and Marjory each carried in cream pies.
“Hey, I thought you’d converted to a healthy lifestyle, Elsie,” I said.
“This is sugar free—and quite tasty, as you’ll soon find out.”
“My pies are much better, of course,” Marjory said.
Elsie sighed loudly. “I must admit we’ve each been developing our recipes and it’s been quite competitive.”
I smiled as I’d never known Elsie and Marjory to be competitive. They were more like sisters. They also lived similar lifestyles. There was a time Eleanor and I didn’t feel as if we fit in, until we met them and it became quite apparent that they’re no different than anyone else in town.
I walked over to the table and stuck my finger to the edge of one of the pies for a taste.“Mmm, quite tasty,” I announced.
“Agnes, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” Eleanor asked. “Nobody wants your fingers in their pie.”
My hands slipped to my hips. “I only tasted the edge of one of them.”
“Still, keep your paws off the pies—or else.”
My brow shot up. “Or else? What are you going to do, call the pie police?”
“Sheriff Peterson would happily
show up to resolve this debate,” Elsie said. “Especially now that he promised to stick to the diet his wife put him on.”
“Hogwash,” Eleanor exclaimed. “I can’t see that lasting for long the way that man loves doughnuts.”
“You really need to introduce us to him,” Brax exclaimed as Eleanor inched toward the pies.
“Oh he’s quite nice,” I said as Eleanor plopped her meaty hands on the table, scooped up one of the pies and threatened, “I don’t think you’ve had enough of a taste of that pie.”
“But that’s my pie you’re holding, Eleanor,” Marjory frantically said. “And I’ve worked all week perfecting my recipe, so could you please set it back down, gently.”
Eleanor held the pie as if she planning to plant it in my face. “I’m only kidding,” Eleanor said as she stepped back. That’s when the pie sailed through the air and landed in my face.
I wiped the cream filling from my eyes and grabbed handfuls of the remains and smashed them into Eleanor’s face. I then picked up Elsie’s pie and planted it on the tip of Eleanor’s head with a grin. “Pay backs!”
“Stop it, girls,” Elsie shrieked. “We worked hard to make those pies.”
“I’m sure you made more than two,” I choked out between chews. The pie was actually pretty good.
“If I did I certainly wouldn’t bring them out when the two of you are here.”
I tried the best I could to clean the remnants of the cream pie from my face while the writers were busy tapping on their phones and taping video to boot.
“Do you usually have a food fight at a get-together?” Austin asked.
“Only when Agnes and Eleanor are in attendance,” Elsie said. “I expect you girls to clean up your mess.”
“We call them barbecues when we get together, even if the food isn’t cooked on the grill.” I laughed.
“Elsie is more known for her card parties,” Eleanor added. “They usually involve spiked lemonade, but apparently Elsie is turning over a new leaf and is no longer making spiked lemonade.”
“It’s not as bad as Agnes and Eleanor make it sound,” Marjory said. “We just enjoy a little adult beverage at our card party.”
“We did enjoy,” Elsie reminded them. “I’m living a much better lifestyle these days. If you gentlemen would like to come back inside the house I’ll be able to give you a slice of our pies.”
“Agnes and Eleanor, I believe Elsie doesn’t want the two of you inside ruining her pristine kitchen,” Jack said. “It might be a good thing if you head on home before you make yourselves look more foolish than you’ve already proven yourselves to be.”
Eleanor doubled up her fist, but I guided her back to the table, where we spent the next few hours cleaning up our mess. I had to be honest, I was ready to head home for a long hot shower until I was no longer a sticky mess.
Chapter Four
Early the next morning I received word that a convoy of semis was heading into Tawas while we were having breakfast at the Whitetail Cafe.
Eleanor and I hurried up Newman Street as the ten o’clock train slowly crept past.
“Oh great, we’re missing it,” Eleanor wailed.
“Missing what exactly?”
“I wanted to be there when all the production trucks rolled past.”
“I did too,” I honestly admitted. “But luck isn’t on our side this time.”
“Don’t say that,” Eleanor quickly hissed. “You’ll give us bad luck.”
“I don’t believe in good or bad luck. What happens happens.”
“And what’s happening right now is we’re missing it. Why is the train moving so slowly?”
“Because it’s going through town. I don’t think you’d want it to zoom past the way some people blow across the tracks at the last minute.”
“Is that why we’re walking?”
“You know, I don’t know why we’re walking. I suppose I thought we’d have a better view that way.”
“How are we going to follow the convoy?”
“What is wrong with you, Eleanor? We won’t miss anything important. They’re making a movie about our investigative adventures.”
The last car of the train disappeared up the tracks.
“Finally!” Eleanor sighed as she hurried across the tracks, where semi-trucks were nearly bumper to bumper as they rolled up U.S. 23.
She leaned into me and I smiled. “This is so surreal,” I murmured.
She pinched me and I let out a small cry. “I know.” Eleanor laughed. “Sorry, I had to pinch you for luck.”
I wanted to give Eleanor a pinch she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, but instead I walked back to the car. Eleanor was rooted to the same spot where I’d left her. I skidded to a stop and beeped the horn, laughing when she jumped.
She shot me a dirty look as she climbed into the car. “You’re so funny.”
I inched toward U.S. 23 until Eleanor shouted for me to stop. I had no choice but to listen to her because I’d never be able to cross the street with the trucks so close together. I counted trucks, as I usually count train cars, and was shocked when I reached twenty at the end of the convoy.
“Are you certain those trucks are all for the movie, Agnes?”
“I can’t say for certain, but where else could they be heading?”
“To the point, where those writers Brax and Austin told us they’d be setting up.”
“How can they capture our adventures at the point? We’ve never solved a mystery there,” Eleanor complained.
“Where else would a production be able to set up in town? I’m certain they’ll be shooting scenes at locations throughout town.”
“I’m sure Roman will be able to explain their plans.”
“I wonder. Andrew is still concerned that the script might not portray us properly.”
“I don’t know that much about movie deals, but I believe we were supposed to be given a chance to review the script before production begins. But that doesn’t mean he’ll change it based on what we think.”
I had to admit Eleanor made a good point. “I hope Roman doesn’t do us wrong.”
“If he does I’m gonna give him a one ... two... ”
“And a three, I got it.”
There was finally a break in the traffic and I followed the trucks to the point, where Sheriff Peterson had a deputy directing traffic. He waved us alongside his police cruiser.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Sheriff Peterson shouted from his car window.
“Why not? The movie is about us.” I asked the slightly trimmer sheriff.
“Because I agreed that I wouldn’t let anyone else through, not that I have to explain anything to either of you.”
“Certainly Roman didn’t mean that about us.”
“Roman who?”
“Roman Douglas the director, duh,” Eleanor said from her side of the car.
“I don’t know anything about a Roman Douglas.”
“He’s the director,” I explained.
“I met the director. Her name isn’t Roman.”
“Her?” I gasped.
Eleanor crossed her hands across her chest. “Apparently we’re being kept in the dark.”
“I think you’re right, Eleanor. I better speak to Andrew about this.”
“Don’t forget to head south, you know, because you live in that direction,” Peterson said.
I didn’t care for his tone, but I headed toward home all the same. “That Peterson is certainly giving us a hard time,” I grumbled. “I can’t believe Roman isn’t directing our movie.”
“Maybe the sheriff has it wrong.”
“He didn’t sound like he had it wrong.”
Eleanor poked a finger in the middle of her chin. “Woman director. I can’t say I don’t love the idea. I mean, how can a man possibly portray our lives properly?”
“True, but I’d love to meet her and soon. We could help her make the movie even better.”
“So what do you suggest?”
&
nbsp; “We should head back to my house and see what Andrew has to say on the matter.”
“Unless he’s totally in the dark, just like us.”
WE LUMBERED INTO THE house carefully, stepping over dead mice on the porch. Ick!
“How many times have I told you to not bring your kill back to the house?” I scolded Duchess as Andrew held her, petting her beneath the chin.
“Don’t blame Duchess. She has an admirer. A tiger cat has been bringing mice all day.”
“So a tomcat?”
“It appears that way.” Andrew’s face became serious and his brow furrowed. “She’s fixed, isn’t she?”
“No, but she hasn’t gone into heat in a long time.”
“She might be now for all you know,” Eleanor offered.
“Why else would a male cat be lurking about,” Andrew added. “I suppose we’ll know if Duchess starts popping out kittens.”
I frowned. “I certainly hope not. That’s all I’d need.”
“Aww, but kittens are so cute,” Eleanor declared.
“And hard to get rid of,” I grumbled.
Eleanor’s face reddened. “You mean adopt. I hope you meant adopt.”
“Of course,” I grumbled. “We need to speak to you, Andrew, about something important.”
Andrew smiled and made way for his favorite chair and eased down. “Shoot.”
“That’s exactly why we’re here,” Eleanor exclaimed. “Trucks have been roaring into town.”
“Eleanor is right. Semi-trucks are heading to the point, but that darn Sheriff Peterson wouldn’t let us follow them.”
“He was directing traffic,” Eleanor added with a huff. “Tell him about the director.”
“If you’ll allow me to get a word in,” I sighed. “I was under the impression that Roman Douglas would be directing the movie.”
“No?”
“Peterson told us the director is a woman.”
“Roman might be too involved in another project. You can’t possibly have a problem about the director being a woman.”
“No, but perhaps I’d feel better if we could meet her today.”
“So what are you suggesting exactly?”
“Just that I’m going to find a way out to the point today. No way am I allowing Peterson to stop me.”
Tawas Goes Hollywood Page 3
