“Oh, we have a backup plan, Agnes. If the café fails, we’re going to change the sign to Miss Clawdy’s Brothel, and underneath it’s going to say, Y’all come on in and check out our menu. You want a job answering the phone for us?” Trixie asked.
Agnes narrowed her eyes and clucked her tongue like a hen gathering chickens in a thunderstorm. “I knew when they let you move in here there would be trouble. I swear to God you are a bad apple, girl. Only one over here worth a dime is Cathy, and that’s because she’s kind like her mother was. I can’t believe that Claudia took one look at those two little babies and named the wrong damn one after me. Catherine should have my name. Not Marty!”
“Why thank you, Aunty Agnes, but I disagree about the names. Marty is just like her Aunty Martha Agnes, so I think they were named right,” Trixie said.
Agnes shook her bony finger at Trixie. “I’m not your aunt and if I was, I’d take you to the river and drown you.”
* * *
Cathy was in the yard pulling weeds away from the sweet williams and the marigolds on the east side of the house when her phone rang. She didn’t even check the ID before she pulled it out of her bibbed overall pocket and answered it.
“Hello,” she said sweetly.
“Cathy, what was going on there last night?” Ethan said.
“Agnes thought someone was in the bedroom hurting Trixie.” Cathy sat down and pulled the sleeves to her sweater down to her wrists. “I was coming home when Beulah called me. She was afraid that Jack had been shot.”
“Okay, then. I just had a few minutes and wanted to check on you. I’ve got another campaign meeting this evening. It’s a busy time with the last weeks of the election. I’ll see you on Saturday night.”
“I love you, Ethan,” Cathy said.
“Me too,” he answered.
Why was it so hard for him to actually say the words, I love you? He had to love her, didn’t he? He had proposed and they were getting married in less than two months.
Cathy put the phone back in the bib pocket and leaned back on her elbows.
The phone rang again and she bit back a string of cuss words that would have scorched the hair out of a bullfrog’s nostrils when she saw that it was Anna Ruth.
“Hello?” she said tersely.
Marty would have loved it if she’d lost her temper and actually said all the words about to explode in her head.
“I just had to touch base with you since we’re club sisters now. Are you involved with the craft show this fall? Violet called and asked me to be at the Chamber meeting tonight and I wondered if we might get a cup of coffee afterward.”
“I’m not involved with that,” Cathy said.
“Marty?”
“No?”
“Don’t tell me Trixie is.”
Cathy sighed. “Anna Ruth, Trixie is my oldest and dearest friend. I’m not talking about her to you.”
“Well, I’m your club sister, so that card trumps a friendship,” Anna Ruth shot back.
“I don’t think so.”
Anna Ruth could suck the energy out of a Jehovah’s Witness in thirty seconds flat.
“Well, I’m a better friend because I’ve worried myself sick all day that Trixie might have caused you to have a heart attack last night.”
“Why would I have a heart attack? Healthy people don’t have heart attacks at thirty-four,” Cathy said.
“Well, you do have to deal with a drunk friend, and there is the stress of the wedding,” Anna Ruth said. “I’ve got to go now. I’m in front of the community room. Oh, I can see you across the street. I’m waving at you. About that coffee afterward. We could still go.”
“As you can see, I’m busy, so no, thank you.” Cathy disconnected and put the phone back in her pocket.
A fat robin flew down from a tree and pulled a nice big juicy earthworm from the earth where she’d been digging. She sat very still and watched him. And then it dawned on her that Trixie had already left for the Chamber meeting and Anna Ruth was on the way. She should at least warn Trixie!
She sat up so fast that it startled the robin. He flew away and dropped the worm on her bare foot. She flicked it off and grabbed the phone out of her pocket. She hit the speed dial button for Trixie and tapped her foot as she waited. On the fifth ring it went to voice mail. She tried a second time and it went straight to voice mail.
Too late.
She couldn’t get dressed in time to go support Trixie in the meeting where Anna Ruth was headed. And she sure couldn’t show up at a town meeting in her overalls. Lord, Violet would stroke out right there in front of everyone.
If Trixie wasn’t home in an hour, Cathy would call the police station and ask what Trixie’s bail was for strangling Anna Ruth until her big blue eyes popped out of her head. Cathy would hock everything, including Miss Clawdy’s and Marty’s Caddy if it was necessary to get Trixie out of jail. She just wished she had had time to get cleaned up and see the fireworks.
* * *
Trixie held a paper plate with three small thumbprint cookies. They weren’t bad, but one bite said they weren’t from Annabel’s kitchen. That night Annabel had brought a dip with horseradish sauce and cream cheese and Trixie hated horseradish. She should have volunteered for refreshments and brought Marty’s pumpkin tartlets. At least people wouldn’t be wrapping them in the cute little purple napkins and tossing them into the trash can like they were doing the thumbprint cookies.
Violet Prescott, Cathy’s future mother-in-law, popped the wooden gavel on the podium twice. The room went silent and everyone proceeded to find a chair like little windup toys. Trixie turned her paper plate upside down in the trash can to cover up the cookies and the horseradish dip that had nearly sent her into a gagging fit. Violet shot a look her way that said she’d best get in her seat, so she hurriedly slid into the last chair in the front row. She looked up at the clock and got another ugly stare from Violet. No one questioned her ability to start a meeting right on time! The first thing a Cadillac citizen learned was Violet was the queen bee in Cadillac. The second was that you never ever crossed Violet. The third was that you never approached her unless she held out the golden scepter—that being her forefinger, which was, honest to God, adorned with a fourteen-carat gold fingernail.
“If everyone is seated, we will begin our meeting.” Violet’s double chin wobbled like a bobble-head doll every time she moved. Trixie bit her lip to keep from giggling. Laughing at the queen could get her in big trouble. She might have to eat that horrid horseradish dip as punishment.
It wasn’t until she was seated that Trixie realized she was elbow to elbow with Anna Ruth Williams. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t kill her. That was against the law. And her ex-husband sure wouldn’t cut her any slack when he threw her in jail. Now that was an interesting idea. Sex in a jail cell with him handcuffed to the bars.
Anna Ruth realized who had sat down beside her and gasped. Trixie kept her eyes straight ahead. There was no justice in the world or it would not be a sin or against the law to shoot a cheating husband’s new bimbo. Finally, curiosity got the best of her and she looked right at Anna Ruth. But the woman’s eyes were on Violet as if she were God.
“This meeting is called to order. Old business?” Violet asked.
No one said a word. Someone did cough in the back row, but he cut it off short when Violet gave him an evil glance.
“Okay, we’ll get right on to the new business. Anna Ruth Williams is representing the City Council tonight and is here to ask us to support them in a decision about zoning. Anna Ruth, honey, come right on up here. You have five minutes and then we’re moving on to the next item on the agenda.” The gold fingernail indicated that Anna Ruth could leave her seat and take her place behind the podium.
Anna Ruth stepped right on Trixie’s toe when she stood up.
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry.
How clumsy of me.”
She pranced up to the front of the room in her tight little pink skirt, matching tight sweater, and pink high heels and threw her blond hair back over her shoulder with a flick of her hand. Freshly manicured pink fingernails with cute little diamond accents glittered under the fluorescent lighting. Lord, she was another Violet Prescott in the making. When the old girl died, she’d probably leave that gold fingernail to Anna Ruth in her will.
“Hello, everyone. As you all know, there are several historically old houses on the three hundred block of Main Street. When the town was laid out, two blocks, the fourth and fifth blocks to be exact, were declared commercial lots. All others were zoned residential so that people wouldn’t have cafés or coin-operated laundries right next door to their beautiful homes. The three hundred block has four houses on the south side that are at least fifty years old and five on the north side of the street that are that old or older. We need to remember that our town is steeped in history. I’m here to ask you to support the Council that the old Andrews’ home be zoned from commercial back to residential. It’s come to our attention that another business has petitioned for a rezoning on that block, and we simply cannot have our old homes being destroyed.”
Trixie was on her feet in an instant. “Why would you do that? We were given a commercial zone for that corner that was supposed to be good indefinitely. We are a contributing business to Cadillac. Our café brings in tax dollars, and all three partners participate in community affairs.”
“The lawyer for the Council, Clayton Mason, has reviewed the papers, and he says that it does say that you have commercial zoning, but it does not state a time limit. So we either need to zone the whole block or revert your zoning. We either stop it now or pretty soon the whole town will be ruined.” Anna Ruth dabbed at her blue eyes with a tissue she pulled dramatically from under the podium. “I just can’t bear to see those old historical homes with businesses in them. If I’d been on the Council, Miss Clawdy’s…” she snarled her nose before going on, “would have never gotten a commercial license to ruin such an old house in our quaint little town.”
“You have my support,” Violet said. “I always said those old houses on that street are of historical value to the area and should not be made into businesses.”
Trixie was still on her feet. “Everyone in this room eats at Clawdy’s on a regular basis. Why in the hell are you all in such a tizz about the house now?”
“You leave one bad apple in the barrel and pretty soon they’re all rotten. If this keeps on, there could be a McDonald’s buying up one of our precious old houses and razing it for the space to put in a fast food place. How many of you want that right next door with that kind of noise and traffic? And we’d thank you to keep your comments clean, Trixie,” Anna Ruth said.
“I want to talk after she gets her five minutes,” Trixie said.
“Then get your name on the agenda for the next meeting,” Violet said. “Now all of y’all be thinkin’ about what Anna Ruth has proposed, and when we meet again, we’ll discuss it then. I’ll be expecting a vote in November. The people wanting to put a business in the old Shambles’ place need an answer by then. But personally, I believe that we should rezone it back to residential.”
“I should get to state my opinion if she gets to do hers,” Trixie pressed on.
“You are not on the agenda. Sit down, Anna Ruth. I’ll close things.” Violet took over the podium again.
Trixie did not sit down. “I thought we were here to discuss the Craft Fair, not a zoning issue.”
“That’s next week, Trixie. You need to read the memo that Clayton Mason emailed everyone.”
Trixie slumped back into her chair. She hoped that God would strike Violet dead before the next meeting. Hell, she might even help Agnes make her life miserable.
“Now any more new business?” Violet asked.
No one said a word.
Trixie jumped when Violet hit the gavel on the podium and said, “The next meeting will be next Thursday to discuss the Craft Fair, for those who don’t bother to read the memos. We are adjourned.”
Anna Ruth smiled smugly as she walked right in front of Trixie on her way to the refreshment table. Trixie stuck her throbbing toe out and didn’t even try to catch Anna Ruth as she tumbled ass over teakettle, knocking down the chair she’d been sitting in on her way to sprawl out on the floor. Amazing! The woman wore white cotton granny panties!
“Oh, my!” Trixie bent to tug Anna Ruth’s tight little skirt down over her thighs. “Those heels are demons to walk in, aren’t they?”
* * *
The house had been occupied by Andrews since it was built in the ’30s. It was a charming two-story white frame house with big pillars holding up the wide porch, a driveway on the west side, and flowers blooming everywhere Cathy could plant them, but it didn’t have enough parking space to support a business. That’s where Darla Jean first came into the picture. She offered them the use of her parking lot right across the street for a free dinner every so often.
The first Andrews had owned a cotton gin in town. They left the house to their son, a lawyer, who left it to his son, also a lawyer. When those folks were gone, their two daughters, Marty and Cathy, inherited the place and turned it into Miss Clawdy’s Café six months later. Marty quit her job as a full-time teacher at the Grayson County College in Sherman but stayed on to teach adult basic education classes once a week. Cathy quit her job as a home economics teacher in Tom Bean, just south of Cadillac. And just before the café opened, Trixie quit her job at the Cadillac Community Bank to join them.
Getting the right zoning and all the legal papers to put in a business had taken time and money, but now it was not only up and running—it was a thriving business. The only reason Violet and Anna Ruth were so eager to shut them down was that Anna Ruth was afraid Andy would kick her out and go back with his ex-wife. Little did she know that Trixie was still way too pissed at him to take him back.
“I don’t want him for anything but a romp in the hay, Miss Granny Britches,” Trixie said aloud as she angled across Main Street to the café.
She expected to go right to her room and work on her scrapbooking the rest of the evening, but Cathy was waiting on the front porch in one of the rocking chairs. One look at her said volumes. Cathy could never play poker because everything she thought showed on her face.
“Did Agnes die?” Trixie asked.
She could hope, couldn’t she?
“I tried to call but you had your phone off. Was it awful?”
“What?” Trixie asked.
“Anna Ruth was at the meeting, right?” Cathy asked.
“How did you know?” Trixie asked.
“She called me on the pretense of being worried,” Cathy said. “I couldn’t be ugly to her. We’re in the club together. She told me that she was coming to the meeting. I tried to call you but it went straight to voice mail and I didn’t want to crash the meeting by showing up out of the blue, so I kept pulling weeds and deadheading plants and worrying my head off.”
“Well, you might not be in the club together very long, darlin’,” Trixie said. “She was there to propose taking back our rights to a commercial zoning. Another business wants to buy the old Shambles place next to Agnes and now the Council is thinking about sending us back to a residential status.”
The rest of the color drained from Cathy’s face. “No!”
Trixie sat down in the other rocker. “She’s just mad at me and trying to run me out of town. She’s afraid Andy will come back to me for some decent sex. I can’t imagine anyone as prissy as her liking sex, but I guess she does since she was able to talk him into bed in the first place.”
“I don’t think she did as much talking as he did, Trixie. Blame Andy. He’s as guilty as she is, maybe even more so,” Cathy said.
“How’s that? It took both of them,” Trixie
asked.
“He was married and she is so young. Now tell me about the meeting. Why didn’t you tell them what you think? I can’t believe you didn’t storm up to that podium and rant and rave.”
“Sorry suckers wouldn’t let me talk because I wasn’t on the agenda. So I tripped Anna Ruth and enjoyed watching her fall on her face. She wears white panties.”
Cathy slapped a hand over her mouth. “You didn’t!”
“I did, but she deserved it. She stepped on my toe and it’s still throbbing. I think it may be broke,” Trixie said.
“I’m so sorry,” Cathy said.
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault and it’s worth the pain to get to deliver the payback. Let’s go in. I need a drink.”
They circled the house and went in the back door. Trixie went straight for the cabinet and grabbed the Jack Daniels.
Cathy was still pale as a ghost when she slumped down in a chair.
Trixie poured an inch of whiskey into each of two glasses. “Tip it up, darlin’, and drink it like a cowboy in an old Western movie. It’ll put some color back in your face. We aren’t going to lose our business. We’ll put Agnes to work for us.”
Cathy shook her head. “It’s not you they’re after. It’s me. Ethan doesn’t want me to work when we are married. I wouldn’t tell him that I’d sell out or quit my job so he and Violet are going after it a different way. If I sell or quit, they’ll drop this thing. If I don’t tell them I will, then they’ll shut us down. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Violet wouldn’t burn us out to get her way.”
Trixie threw back her whiskey and poured another shot. “Could be it’s both of us they’re after. Remember the line in that old movie? ‘They haven’t seen trouble, but it’s coming.’ Well, they’d better not mess with us because we’ve got Marty on our side.”
“And Agnes. Don’t forget her.” Cathy picked up the glass and sipped. She shivered and said, “This stuff is vile. How do you drink it?”
The Sisters Café Page 6
