The Sisters Café

by Carolyn Brown

  Cathy popped her hands on her hips. “It’s not funny! It’s horrible. I hope when you two get married that you get a mother-in-law who’s twice as bad as Violet.”

  Trixie wiped her eyes. “Had one and am grateful that she moved to Florida the second year of my marriage or there wouldn’t have been a third year. Well, shit! If she’d have stayed, I wouldn’t have wasted all those years. She could have broken us up instead of Andy’s cheating.”

  “And I don’t intend to ever get one. I’m learning my lessons from you, sister,” Marty said.

  See there, Trixie thought. Andy had been lying about Marty voting for that hussy. No way would she vote for Anna Ruth and then call me sister!

  Chapter 7

  “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy” was blaring from the CD player when Jack walked into the café that morning. He grabbed a table in the smaller room and nodded at Trixie.

  She filled a mug with coffee and carried it to him. “You just gettin’ off work?”

  He covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “I am and it was a boring night. Hey, I forgot to tell you. Couple of days ago a guy stopped out front and asked directions to Dallas from here. He’d taken the wrong highway out of Sherman. Anyway, he asked me which one of y’all was Miss Clawdy.”

  Trixie smiled. “Had he been in here?”

  “Had beans and greens with y’all that very day. I told him about the café being named for the twins’ mamma. He said it was the best food he’d ever eaten, so pass that on to Marty.”

  “I will,” Trixie said. “Hey, did your mamma mention the voting at the social club the other night?”

  The music stopped and then Elvis started singing “Suspicious Minds.”

  Heat inched its way up the back of Jack’s neck. “Why would you ask that? You know that what goes on in their club is so secret that they have to sign their names in blood just to get inside Violet’s house. That’s probably why Marty don’t go very often. You remember how she acted when she saw blood when we were kids?”

  The door opened and eight people trailed in together.

  “You won’t be able to sleep if you leave before you have breakfast,” Trixie said as she turned away from Jack’s table.

  “You are probably right. But this is my supper since I’m just getting off work. What’s in the fridge from yesterday? I’ve had my mind on beans with a big chunk of corn bread, greens on the side, and maybe a piece of fish.”

  “Got enough beans and greens for you, but the fish is all gone. Pork chop do? You could have picante or pepper jelly with it.”

  “Oh, yeah! Both. A side of picante and pepper jelly with my corn bread.” He exhaled slowly. He’d barely escaped that bullet, but Trixie really did have a suspicious mind, and she would find out about that damned vote. He just hoped he wasn’t the one who told her.

  * * *

  Cathy could scarcely believe that Violet was smiling when she opened the door that morning. At least until her gaze dropped to the same suit Cathy had worn to the club earlier in the week. The smile faded and her highly arched brows shot up another inch.

  Cathy breezed past her into the house. “Thank you so much for your advice on what to wear, Violet. But I didn’t have time to shop and I didn’t have a thing in royal blue. Trixie did have this gorgeous scarf she picked up last week at Walmart that matched so I borrowed it and didn’t wear Mamma’s pearls. What do you think?”

  “It’ll have to do. You’re too tall to wear one of my better suits, or we could whisk you up to my bedroom and change you. The scarf is cheap, but it does match.”

  Cathy ignored her and asked, “Where is Ethan?”

  That’s when Violet noticed that Cathy wasn’t wearing panty hose and sucked up enough air to blow her lungs right out of her rib cage.

  “I told you to wear hose. Now they’ll have to take the picture from the bust up and I wanted a less personal one. What’s the matter with you, Catherine?”

  “I shaved my legs,” Cathy said.

  Violet shook her head. “I just hope no one got a picture of you at the club and puts it in the Cadillac News this week. There will be a big spread in the Sherman newspaper, and it would be tacky if you were seen in the same suit in both papers on the same day.” Violet shut the door with enough force to rattle the pretty crystal vase on the credenza. “Ethan and Clayton are in the study. I’m hoping that gigantic purse of yours has the prenup in it and you’ve signed it?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t have time to read it last night. I’m not very smart when it comes to legal papers, so after church tomorrow, Darla Jean is bringing her lawyer to the house, and he’s going to explain all the fine points to me.”

  Violet turned beet red and looked like she was about to explode. Cathy thought for sure she’d fall on the floor any minute, grasping at her throat and rolling her eyes back in her head. The doorbell rang, but she didn’t hear it until Cathy pointed.

  “What?” she snapped.

  Cathy pointed over Violet’s shoulder. “Press is here. Right on time. I’m going to duck into the study so that Ethan and I can make an entrance together. Don’t you think that will be a nice campaign move?”

  Violet spun around. Her voice was sugary sweet when she opened the door for the press. But Cathy had no doubt that she would pay for her little rebellious streak. Violet would make sure that fitting back into the perfect mold was very painful.

  * * *

  Clayton could never sit in the chair he had coveted his whole life, which was the one in the Oval Office in the White House. His background would never stand up under the pressure. But he could make it to that office in a slightly less public position if he was a patient man. Ethan Prescott the fourth, with his perfect background, was just the person who could get him on the first rung of the ladder. There wasn’t even a parking ticket on his record. And Catherine was a perfect choice of a wife. She was poised, kind, and he could already see her making a big splash for education and children. Oh, yes, he would enjoy managing Ethan’s campaign for this election and then moving right on up to the big one in a few years. Everyone started on the bottom rung and it took lots of grooming to get them to the top.

  He’d had a few misgivings when he researched Catherine Andrews. Her sister’s reputation wasn’t nearly as sterling. But then it could be used to his benefit. Other politicians had relatives with less than stellar reputations and it made for excellent press coverage. Drop the right little tidbit in the right place and suddenly Catherine and Ethan were in the news. His file on Catherine was an inch thick and there wasn’t one bad word in it.

  He looked up from behind Ethan’s desk and smiled when Catherine walked into the room, but it did not reach his brown eyes. She barely glanced his way and went right to the chair where Ethan sat and braced a hip on the arm. When Ethan looked up, she brushed a kiss across his lips.

  “You were supposed to wear a blue suit. Ethan has dressed accordingly, so you would match and make a statement, and where is your lapel pin?” Clayton asked.

  The woman had the audacity not to answer him. She brushed a piece of lint from Ethan’s shoulder and said, “Darlin’, you look very handsome. If the polls were open today, I’d vote for you. Shall we go on out and make our entrance for the press?”

  Clayton’s eyes grew an extra layer of ice. “Did you bring the prenup?”

  Finally, she looked at him. “No, we’ll talk about that later. Today is Ethan’s big day. We don’t want to ruin it. Besides, my lawyer couldn’t get away until tomorrow to go over it with me. Ethan?”

  For the first time Clayton wondered if he’d chosen the right woman. It was salvageable if she didn’t shape up. She could always die. The press from that would be wonderful. Clayton could just see Ethan at her funeral, touching the casket, tears rolling down his cheeks onto his black suit, and at the cemetery laying flowers on her tombstone. Oh, yes, the public loved to support a poor bereave
d widower.

  * * *

  Ethan had a lovely honest smile, and he flashed it at the camera when he and Catherine walked out of the study, her hand tucked away in his. She was a beautiful woman, and he was grateful to Clayton for being instrumental in getting them together. It had all started so innocently. Clayton had told him that the woman he had been seeing was not the wife of a politician and that if he was serious about the election he had to think past his selfish desires. He needed a woman who had a spotless past and a good name. Ethan had mentioned Cathy, and Clayton stayed on his back until he finally did ask her out. Now they were standing in the foyer with the press cameras lighting up the room.

  Catherine kissed him on the cheek and said, “It’s your turn to shine. You’ll make them all vote for you. Call me when you are ready for the picture of us together.” Then she quietly faded back into the study.

  Like his mother, Catherine knew what to do, and she did it. She was a lady, and she’d bring grace to his life and office. Too bad he didn’t love her, but then, like Clayton said, “Love is one thing, marriage is another, and sex gets the top billing with neither love nor marriage being a factor.”

  * * *

  Marty had a gorgeous blue suit that she had worn to her father’s and mother’s funerals. Cathy had planned to borrow it, but when she awoke that morning, the first thing she saw was that danged prenup on the desk with her e-reader right beside it. Symbolically, they represented what she wanted and what she was going to get.

  That’s when she had decided to wear the same suit she’d worn to the club. The scarf was one that she’d received from a fellow teacher when she quit teaching. The lie about the scarf had slid off her tongue so slick that she wondered if she and Marty had really switched spirits that morning.

  Clayton rounded the end of the desk on his way out as she entered the office. He was a nice-looking man. Nothing he could do short of plastic surgery would ever make him look less like the devil to Cathy, but maybe there was good in his soul… somewhere.

  “I’m on my way out to the conference, Catherine,” he said.

  “I’m sure you are. This won’t take long. That prenup is on my desk at home. My lawyer is really coming tomorrow, and we’re going to read it together. That is, if you call off the dogs on this zoning law. If not, I’m going to shred it.”

  “When the prenup is in my hands, I’ll call them off. It’s up to you how much damage gets done before that,” he said.

  She wasn’t backing down this time. Violet could have her way with the stupid cake, but her dress was bought, and she wasn’t going to sign that blasted prenup until Clayton backed down on the zoning issue. She didn’t want Ethan’s inheritance or Violet’s house, but she was not giving up her job or her mother’s car. That much was as reasonable as she planned to get.

  “There’s a meeting tonight. You know who to call to make it go away, Mr. Mason. I can look at that prenup favorably tomorrow, or I can tear it up and you can start all over. We’re pretty close to the election for problems, aren’t we?”

  She sat down on the arm of the same chair where Ethan had been sitting moments before. “Trixie is going to the meeting. When she comes home with the news, I’ll know what to do. Oh, and I want that whole block, both sides, zoned commercial. That way, if Aunt Agnes decides to sell her house, she’ll get more for it. Now run along so you can be in the pictures. Don’t forget to smile. It makes your features less harsh. And tell Violet that I’m in here waiting for her summons when I’m needed.”

  He flashed a look over his shoulder that sent shivers down her spine as he left. Cathy fell over into the chair, threw her head back on the chair, and took six long breaths. Where on earth had she gotten the courage to say that? And what had she just done? Clayton could kill her by staring at her ten whole seconds with those icy eyes.

  “One for e-reader. Zero for prenup,” she said, wishing she had a shot of Trixie’s Jack Daniels.

  * * *

  It was not possible to take off deodorant that was applied in the morning and leave only the sweat smell of a whole day’s work in its wake. Trixie would have done so if she could, and then, when Anna Ruth sat down beside her at the meeting of Council and Chamber committees that evening, she would give her a big hug.

  Trixie didn’t change from the jeans and T-shirt with Clawdy’s logo on the front. She just laid aside her scrapbook papers, dusted what bits of paper she could see from her jeans, and walked kitty-corner across the street.

  The awkward silence that met her said that she’d been the topic of conversation, but she didn’t care if they were painting her as the smelliest villain in all of Texas. She wasn’t there to model the newest fashions. She was there to keep that damned zoning dispute from closing Clawdy’s.

  “Am I late?” she called out.

  Violet’s glare was probably meant to shrivel her up into nothing but a sweaty prune, but it made Trixie giggle.

  Violet shook her chubby finger at Trixie. “And what is so funny?”

  The woman looked like she’d just eaten a cow-pie sandwich. What had happened at the press thing that day anyway? Cathy had said that it went well, but the look on Violet’s face didn’t back up Cathy’s story.

  “Were you looking out the window and talking about how tacky I look?” Trixie answered with a question. “That’s what it looked like when I came in and the whole place went quiet as a tomb.”

  “Of course not!” Anna Ruth blushed.

  Violet edged her way to the front of the room and everyone else found a seat. “We have better things to discuss than the ex-wife of one of our policemen, Trixie. Now that we are finally all here, let’s get on with the meeting. This is informal so we aren’t calling it to order. We’re here to discuss the Craft Festival. The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society usually takes the job of the concession stand at the football field, but this year we are in charge of our very own table with handmade items. Of course, Ethan will deliver the speech and we’ll be passing out little flags to everyone to wave after Ethan gives his speech and we play the National Anthem. So the Chamber will take the concession stand and work along with the police department. Anyone have a problem with that?”

  So much for it being informal. The queen was in the room.

  Trixie raised her hand. “That’s from six to nine, right?”

  Violet smiled. “Yes, it is.”

  “Then as spokesman for the Chamber, I’ll agree. How many policemen can I have for the concession stand?”

  “That’s up to you, Trixie. I can’t imagine you’d want to work with your ex-husband, but I’m sure you can persuade enough of the others to help you. Now on to the next thing. The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society would like to take charge of the booth spaces at the Jalapeño Jubilee. We’ll make sure their fees are paid and everyone is set up to their best advantage. And this year instead of roping off a side street, we have gotten permission from Andy to use Main Street.”

  “Which two blocks?” Trixie asked.

  “The block to the west of Miss Clawdy’s and the one to the east.”

  “Are you planning to use the Christian church lot for extra parking?” Trixie asked.

  “I’m sure that the preacher won’t mind,” Violet said and started to go on.

  “I’d get her permission first and ask Andy if he’s willing to clean up the mess that will get made,” Trixie said.

  Anna Ruth cleared her throat.

  She could ahem until there was a snowstorm in Cadillac in July, but Trixie wouldn’t stop talking about Andy. She’d been married to him fourteen years, and she knew him better than Anna Ruth did.

  Violet held out the golden fingernail to Anna Ruth. “Put that in your notes. I’m sure you can talk Andy into doing that for us and you can go talk to the preacher over there.”

  “Darla Jean,” Trixie said.

  Someone in the back snickered.


  “What?” Violet raised an eyebrow.

  “The preacher is Darla Jean. It might go better if you know her name. And I’d like to know what’s been decided about the zoning issue.”

  Violet’s mouth clamped shut so tightly that Trixie wondered if she’d gotten her lip gloss and superglue mixed up. It took a while but finally Violet quit working her jaws and held up a hand. Trixie figured that meant they’d be talking to Darla Jean’s lawyer about more than a prenup the next day.

  “That has been resolved. Clayton Mason has reviewed the papers for all parties involved. It appears that the Council is willing to rezone that block into a commercial status. Now on to the next thing. How many food vendors at Cadillac’s Jalapeño Jubilee this year? And do they all have to have some form of jalapeños as in salsa, pepper sauces, or jellies to sell?”

  A person at the back said that the food vendors brought in a lot of business so it was decided they’d let whoever wanted to sell Indian tacos, baked goods, chili, or whatever at the Jubilee. However, the only way they could get the coveted Jubilee Award for best booth was to serve jalapeños in some form.

  Trixie’s mind was running in circles like a hamster on an exercise wheel. They’d gotten their zoning status, but it had been too easy. It had something to do with that press conference. What in the hell had Cathy done?

  “And the last thing is, I understand Martha Andrews has damaged her Caddy again. It’s a shame that she drives like a drunk teenager, but what are we to do?” Violet smiled at Anna Ruth.

  “So,” Violet drug the word out dramatically, “we won’t have the vintage Caddy to bring up the rear of the parade. We need one for Andy to ride in as last year’s celebrity, so y’all be thinking of one by the next Council meeting.”

  “Doesn’t Marty always head up the parade? It’s tradition,” someone asked.

  Violet puffed out her chest and turned on her best smile. “We are changing things this year. Ethan will be riding in a brand spanking new Caddy limo at the front of the parade. Now I don’t think we have anything else, but Annabel has made her famous pecan sandy cookies, and we have coffee for anyone who’d like to stay and visit.”