“Must’ve been those hot dogs. I bet they’ve been sitting out all day and they’re tainted. I knew we should have manned the concession stand as well as our own table of homemade gifts. You can’t trust Chamber and the fire department to get things done right,” Violet said weakly.
After the things she’d tried to spread about Cathy, Marty figured she deserved more than an upset stomach. Marty wouldn’t have blamed Cathy if she did poison her, but her sister was too nice to do that. Now Agnes was a different story altogether.
“Anything I can do to help? Should I get Ethan so he can take you home?” Marty asked.
“No, I wouldn’t ruin his evening for anything. This is our day of glory to be at home court and let all his constituents get to know him,” Violet said. “I do believe it is just a case of nerves.”
“Constituents are what he has after the election,” Marty said.
Violet swung open the door. Marty squirted more soap in her hand and washed them again. “He will win this election. And if he doesn’t, it’s all your sister’s fault.”
“Mrs. Prescott,” Marty lowered her voice to a whisper, “I would be careful what I spread about if I was you. Agnes loves me, but I would not cross her. You, on the other hand, she would gladly kick right out in front of a semi. And Cathy is her favorite.”
* * *
The cloud that Anna Ruth floated on was hundreds of feet above the earth and Ethan was the only other person on it. He loved her! The whole town knew and Trixie, bless her heart, had let the cat out of the bag.
When Beulah relieved her, she handed over her flags and winked at Ethan. They’d have to be discreet until the election, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t meet in private. By the first of the year, she’d be living in that big house with Violet and Ethan. Cathy didn’t know how good she could have had it, but Anna Ruth was so glad that she’d refused to sign those papers. Anna Ruth would have signed them in a heartbeat. Just let him ask her if she’d give up her teaching job to be his wife.
She was standing in the line at the bathroom when Violet came trotting across the field—again.
“Oh, hello, Violet. Come on up here and take my place in line, honey,” Anna Ruth said.
“Get out of my way!”
“Are you not feeling well, Violet?” Anna Ruth sputtered.
“I’m feeling just fine but don’t you be getting any cute ideas about the rumors Trixie started tonight. They are not true. Ethan is heartbroken about Catherine breaking up with him over that policeman down at the precinct. It’s horrible that she threw my son over for a womanizer. It’s more than he can take. Finally, it’s my turn,” Violet said.
Anna Ruth stepped aside and Violet rushed inside again.
* * *
Business had slowed down to a crawl and Agnes got bored with her job just before it was time for Ethan to crawl up on the flatbed trailer and do his speechifying. She’d eaten the two tarts that she wouldn’t sell to Violet and had a hamburger. Her butt was numb from sitting on the bar stool too long. She’d done her duty to her niece and given Violet those pieces of fudge. Now it was time for her to go take her place at the edge of the parking lot where she could hear all about why she should vote for Ethan.
Should was the word. Wouldn’t was the truth. She wouldn’t vote for that pansy-assed politician if the only other candidate on the ballot was Anna Ruth, and she hated her for taking her spot in the social club.
She popped out her lawn chair and set it right smack over the extension cord bringing electricity from the field house to the flatbed trailer.
“Hey, Marty.” She motioned her over. “I’m tired and I want to get situated before Ethan tells us all his bullshit. You can finish up my shift.”
“What if I had a mind to get my chair situated?” Marty asked.
“I’m older than you are and it won’t hurt you to help your sister,” Agnes said.
“Okay, what do I do?”
“Ask Cathy.”
* * *
“Cathy, what has Agnes been doing?” Marty opened the back door. “She sent me to finish her job.”
“She’s been taking money, but we’re only a few minutes from closing down. I bet all the crafts are already picked over, but it wouldn’t be nice to leave without hearing Ethan’s speech,” Cathy said.
“That old girl is brilliant.” Marty laughed.
“How’s that?” Cathy asked.
“She got to play, doesn’t have to pick up her toys, and now she has a front row seat to probably throw tomatoes at Ethan. She’s got her lawn chair right up next to the platform,” Marty said.
“Oh, dear God. We’d better get on over there and stop her from doing something crazy. I figured she’d want to be as far from Violet as possible.”
“That woman always has an agenda. If she’s sitting there it’s because she’s planning something wicked. We’re all three in here and Darla Jean is out there somewhere. I saw her buying some items for her sister’s Christmas presents. Want me to call her and see if she’ll go babysit?” Marty asked.
“No, Agnes promised she wouldn’t start a fight,” Cathy said.
“But she didn’t promise to be good if she could agitate Violet into starting one first,” Trixie said then moaned. “Well, shit! Look who is on duty tonight.”
“Who?” Marty saw Andy the minute the word was out of her mouth.
“Andy will be introducing Ethan’s campaign manager,” Jack said. “And then the campaign manager introduces Ethan. It’s a big affair, you know.”
“Seems like a lot of introducing to me,” Trixie said.
“It is what it is. This is small-town Texas where everything is a big splash, including the fall Crafts Festival.”
“Hey,” Darla Jean came around the end of the concession stand, “don’t close up yet. I need another cup of hot chocolate. The wind has shifted from the south to the north. Looks like we’re in for a cold snap after all.”
Cathy poked her on the arm. “I’ll get one ready for you but then we’ve all got to go keep Agnes out of trouble.”
Darla Jean peeked around the end of the concession stand at the football field parking lot. Craft tables were set up in two long lines. The football field had been roped off with yellow tape with signs saying that no walking on the grass was permitted. The back gate was open so folks could use the bathrooms, and the front gate was open so folks could get to the concession stand.
“She’s just sitting there waiting for Ethan’s speech.”
“Not Agnes. She’s got something up her sleeve,” Marty said.
“It’s time to shut the place up if we’re going to hear the big speech. We’ll come back and clean up afterward.” Jack unhooked the chains and locked the flap.
* * *
Agnes shivered when the wind did a turnaround. Her orange sweatshirt was warm enough in the concession stand where there was heat from the grill, but outside it wasn’t keeping her warm. However, she’d bet dollars to horse shit that she fared better than Violet right then.
Violet had to be chilly in that straight navy blue skirt and lightweight sweater. She should have turned around backward and looked in the mirror before she went out in public wearing that sweater. The fat rolls on her back looked like a couple of piglets under a navy blue blanket as she trotted back and forth to the bathroom. And she had on high-heeled shoes. She had made so many trips in those high heels that she would probably have to have her knees replaced before Christmas.
Agnes giggled at that vision. Life couldn’t be a bit better.
The flatbed trailer, all decked out in bunting, sat waiting ten feet from her. Andy stepped up to the microphone and tapped it. The buzz of the crowd dropped enough that he could introduce Clayton Mason, the campaign manager for Cadillac’s own future Representative.
Shit introducing more shit!
Both o
f them probably thought that the applause was for them, but folks were clapping because the festival would be over soon and everyone could pack up their wares, get the hell out of the cold wind, take their rowdy kids home, give them a bath, and put them to bed.
Clayton said a few words and then Ethan took the platform.
The clapping and whistling was louder that time. The crowd must like Ethan more than she did.
He got out two sentences before she bent down to tie her shoes and unplugged the long extension cord bringing electricity from the field house to the flatbed. They might find the problem, but just to make sure it wouldn’t work if they did, she kicked half a can of lukewarm Coke over to spill on both ends.
His mouth moved. People close to him caught a few words.
Someone yelled, “We can’t hear!”
“Who cares?” Agnes yelled back.
Andy ran over to beat on the microphone but nothing happened. He grabbed the cord and followed it, asked Agnes to move to one side, and quickly found the connection.
“Got it,” he yelled and snapped it together.
Sparks flew.
Andy threw it down and jumped backward.
Fire blazed up from the dead grass that had sprouted up in the cracks in the asphalt covering the football field parking lot.
Agnes picked up her lawn chair and moved it back five feet more so Andy and Ethan could stomp the blazes out with their pretty, shiny black shoes. When the ruckus was over, Andy went back up on the platform and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Sorry about this, folks. We’ll have to catch Ethan’s speech at the next big thing in town, which will be the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society Jubilee, just a week before the big election day.”
He turned to Ethan and shrugged. “Sorry about that. Some kid must’ve run past and tripped over it and then someone else spilled soda pop on it.”
Agnes was so glad that she was looking right at Violet at the very moment it dawned on the old girl what had happened. It was the most beautiful sight in the world.
It only took ten steps—Agnes counted them—to bring Violet and all her anger to Agnes’s chair. She’d promised she wouldn’t start a fight, so she couldn’t say or do one thing until Violet made the first move.
Violet shook her fist and yelled, “You bitch! You dosed that fudge and now you’ve ruined Ethan’s night in his hometown. All because you are mad over your slutty niece? God, Agnes, I thought you had more class than that.”
The comment about Cathy brought Agnes up out of the chair. “You done made a big mistake. I won’t stand still and let you call Cathy a slut.”
Violet’s open hand made contact on Agnes’s jaw, jerking her head to one side.
Agnes came at her like a bull elephant and grabbed a handful of hair to hold her steady while she kicked her shins a dozen times.
Violet pushed Agnes and they both went down on the concrete, rolling around through the burned out place, collecting dead grass and ash on their clothing and skin. It was a blur of flying fists and red and black hair. Agnes caught one on the arm, but she landed a solid right to Violet’s good eye. One of Violet’s damned old spike heels got Agnes on the arm and the blood ran to her fingertips, but Agnes used that wicked right to bloody Violet’s nose the next chance she got.
Arms circled about her waist and more were suddenly around her legs, but she kept throwing punches, landing a couple more on Violet’s arms before they dragged her away. Even then she managed to get in one more kick.
“Turn me loose, damn it! I’m not finished. She done stepped over the line when she called my niece a slut,” Agnes yelled.
Trixie had her arms wrapped firmly around Agnes’s waist and held on for dear life. Cathy hugged her from behind, pinning both of those wicked fists to her side. Marty was flat on the ground with both her arms around Agnes’s legs. Darla Jean was in front of her, keeping Violet at arm’s distance.
Ethan, Clayton, and Andy finally corralled Violet. They carried her kicking and screaming toward the flatbed with Ethan and Andy holding her back and Clayton scowling as usual.
She got one hand free and rocked Andy’s jaw, got a foot free, and was on her way back to Agnes when Andy slapped cuffs on her wrists.
“You need my extra set?” Andy yelled at Trixie.
“I think we got her,” she hollered back.
Violet yelled above both of them. “You take these things off me right now. It’s her fault and I’m pressing charges. Andy, take her to jail.”
Ethan handed her his sweaty handkerchief to hold against her bloody nose. “Mother, settle down!”
Agnes finally relaxed, stopped trying to get free, and yelled across the distance. “She hit me first, Andy. I was minding my own business and she went crazy. I should’ve got the first hit in since it’s my boyfriend she’s sleeping with. I told her she’d better leave him alone or I’d black that other eye. Take her to jail. Or turn me loose and you can take her to the damn morgue.”
“She’s got a boyfriend?” Trixie gasped.
“Hell no! She’s just pestering Violet,” Marty said breathlessly.
“Do you?” Trixie looked Agnes in the eye.
Agnes winked.
“Okay, okay! Jack!” Andy motioned to his off-duty deputy to help him.
“Yes, sir?” Jack took a step forward from behind Agnes’s corner.
“You stay here to supervise everyone getting their stuff out of the parking lot. I’m taking this whole bunch down to the station to cool off. Y’all can ride with me.” He pointed at Violet’s crew.
He turned to his ex-wife and raised an eyebrow. “Trixie, can I trust you to get her down there?”
“Oh, we’ll be there, all right! I’m filing assault charges against her. Look at my arm and this is my best shirt. She’s going to pay for it, too,” Agnes said.
* * *
Agnes went from raging to giggling to laughing like a hyena on the way to the station. Her mind had finally snapped and Marty would put her in a nursing home. There wouldn’t be a thing she could do about it because not even Darla Jean could live with a raging lunatic.
“When did you get a boyfriend?” Darla Jean finally asked.
“Hell, I ain’t got a boyfriend and there ain’t a man alive that’d take on Violet. Not after she bitched Ethan’s poor old daddy into the grave. I always felt sorry for him,” Agnes said.
“Then why did you rant about Violet sleeping with your boyfriend?” Trixie asked.
Agnes sat between Marty and Darla Jean in the backseat. Cathy drove and Trixie rode shotgun. She leaned forward, propped her arms on the back of the front seat, and said, “You gave me the idea when you said that about Anna Ruth and Ethan. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me, but she’s always had to be perfect.”
“You may have just ruined Ethan’s election,” Cathy said.
“No, he’ll do that on his own. I just had a bang-up good time. Paybacks ain’t bitches; they’re wonderful.”
The Cadillac jail, like the restrooms at the football field, had been built fifty years before, but unlike the restrooms, the only use it got was an occasional Saturday night drunk. It had two cell blocks separated by bars, each with a long bench on one side and a stainless steel commode in the corner.
Violet was sitting on a bench in one cell, but the door was open when Andy ushered Agnes into the other cell.
“You all can wait outside,” he told Trixie.
“Not me. Agnes sits in the can; I sit with her,” Trixie said.
“But you don’t even like her,” Andy said.
“You really think those bars will keep her from snatching Violet bald-headed?” she whispered. “Remember the shotgun?”
“Me too.” Darla Jean went inside with Agnes and sat down stoically on the bench.
Andy shook his head. “Only one person. You can’t both stay.”
“She is my spiritual adviser,” Agnes said. “And I want my nieces too. They’re my bodyguards. That woman is crazy. She’ll eat her way through those bars and kill me.”
The other three women filed into the cell and sat down beside her.
“No one is going to hurt you in my jail,” Andy growled.
“I know it because I have my spiritual adviser and my bodyguards. Violet can have four if she can roust up that many friends. I don’t imagine she can, and Lord only knows her spiritual adviser is Lucifer and he’s got his hands full making deals with politicians right now.”
Violet jumped up and was out the door before Andy could get to it, but he did manage to slam the door to Agnes’s cell.
“I want my lawyer and my son and I want Agnes Flynn locked up a whole year for assault.”
Agnes stood up. Cathy and Marty got between her and Violet, who had both hands stuck through the bars trying to reach Agnes. Trixie grabbed one of Agnes’s hands and Darla Jean got the other one.
“Sweet Jesus, but you are strong,” Darla Jean said.
“Jesus ain’t got a damn thing to do with it. You two leave me alone. I’m not getting that close to her. She might give me rabies. She might already have given them to me when she tried to cut my arm off,” Agnes said.
“You are going to jail,” Violet said.
“You hit me first so I was just defending myself.”
“You put stuff in my fudge!”
Andy ushered her back to her cell and quickly slammed the door.
“Aunt Agnes, you said you didn’t poison her!” Cathy exclaimed.
“I didn’t!”
Violet started a high-pitched moan like she was dying for sure. “You poisoned me? What did you use? Now I’ll never live to see Ethan in office.”
Agnes shook a finger at her. “Stop your caterwauling. I didn’t poison you. I just used five bars of Ex-Lax in a pan of fudge. And I mixed Miralax with the milk so I wouldn’t have to put in that pinch of salt. It was guaranteed to start working in one hour or less. Didn’t miss it by much, did it? If you die tomorrow morning, we can bury you in a shoebox, Violet Prescott, because you won’t be full of shit no more.”
The Sisters Café Page 17
