Casket Case (16 page)

The crowd let out cheers and hollering, and a lot of them made a dash to the beer.

“Do you want a beer?” Frank asked Jane.

“What is there to eat?” she said. “I’m hungry.”

That’s when I noticed that the back wall of the salon was lined with cloth-draped tables full of food. Frank took Jane’s hand and led her to the refreshments. I tagged along as best I could with people stopping me for hugs and congratulations.

Daddy said he’d planned a fish fry and catfish stew. I knew the electricity had been off at his house, but he usually cooks fish outside on gas. The wind and rain would have made that impossible. One thing for sure, the food on the long tables hadn’t come from Daddy’s house.

Somebody had made a run to Beaufort for food because we don’t have a KFC nor a Pizza Hut in St. Mary. Buckets and buckets of fried chicken, pizza of every kind, and bags of chips with opened dip containers beside them covered the crisp white cloths. There was enough food there to feed all of St. Mary’s residents plus a few extras.

“I smell meatballs,” Jane said. “I want meatballs.”

“Sorry, no meatballs,” Frank answered.

“I know they’re here. I smell them,” Jane protested.

“Check the pizzas,” I suggested. “I’ve heard of pizzas with little miniature meatballs on them.”

Frank cut me a disgusted look. “I’m who called and ordered the pizzas before Mike went to Beaufort to pick them up because Domino’s in St. Mary has no power,” he said. “I didn’t order anything with meatballs.”

“But I
smell
meatballs.” Jane’s tone was becoming argumentative. I wondered if Frank was familiar with this side of her. Had he seen the stubborn part of Jane yet? “Here you two have eyes to see and refuse to look. If you did, you’d find the meatballs for me.”

I walked the length of the tables and saw no meatballs on anything. I grabbed a paper plate and helped myself to a chicken leg and a slice of pepperoni pizza.

“Did I hear someone ask for meatballs?” I recognized that Charleston accent immediately and turned around to see Levi Pinckney and Tattoo Girl holding l-o-n-g boxes labeled “Nate’s Sports and Subs.” Levi moved chicken buckets and pizza boxes closer together and made room for the cartons of subs. He flipped one open, and the smell of meatballs permeated the room.

“Meatball party sub for the lady,” he said as he slid a portion onto a plate and passed it to Frank to hand to Jane.

“I’ll take a piece of that, too,” Frank said.

“Let me introduce you,” Levi said to me and motioned toward Tattoo Girl. “Callie, this is Denise Sharpe. She works with me at Nate’s. With this rain, business was so bad that Nate called and said we could close the shop. We’d had the radio on, listening to the weather, and when we heard about the party on WXZW, we decided to come over. Since we didn’t hear about it until too late to buy a gift, we brought along some party subs.” He paused. “Denise, meet Callie Parrish, the birthday girl.”

Denise grinned and said, “Happy birthday. Aren’t you the woman who was in earlier this week? Sat with the sheriff and asked about Levi.”

Levi’s eyebrows shot up. “Asked about me?” he said.

“Yes,” I answered. “The night you told me you’d buy me a sub, but you weren’t there.”

“Why were you with the sheriff?” Just like a man to ignore what I’d said.

“I wasn’t really
with
him. Jane and I ran into him, and we wound up sitting together. What does it matter since you weren’t there anyway?”

“Roselle was having a hard time. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

I had no reply to his cavalier response. He must have sensed my mood because he turned to Denise. “Let’s get a couple of beers and circulate,” he said.

Once again, my blue eyes changed color. If that man kept it up, they might turn permanently green. Like when I was little and crossed my eyes. Daddy always told me to stop it or they’d stay that way.

Was Levi dating Denise? She seemed a little young for him, but then, what’s age but a number? I couldn’t help that the man created little urges in me that I’d tried to keep tamped down for a while. I hoped he didn’t know about my personal desires, but I still didn’t appreciate his being at my party with a date. Then what he’d said registered in my mind.

“Heard about the party on the radio?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “When Pa realized there was no way we could have it at home and Odell said move it here, we called DJ Cousin Roger and had him announce that the party would be here. I think Cousin Roger invited anybody shut in with no power tonight to come join the celebration. There are sure people here that I don’t think any of us Parrishes invited.”

Many of the guests were people I’d never seen before, and they all made a point of expressing their birthday wishes. Close friends were also celebrating with me. Rizzie had even brought her grandmother Maum with her as well as Tyrone, her foster brother.

Maum is a tiny little lady of indeterminate age. I’d met her on Surcie Island when I attended a bluegrass festival there. We’d become friends and I visited her about every two weeks to keep her fingernails and toenails manicured and polished in the newest shades.

“I’m so glad you came!” I said, and hugged Maum.

“Wouldn’t want to miss you turning thirty-three. You got me off the island, Callie. Thirty-three. That’s almost one-third of a century. I’m a whole lot closer to a century old than that.” She nodded toward Tyrone. “Get me another piece of that chicken while I talk to Callie here.” He headed toward the table and Maum turned back to me. “I don’t really need more chicken. I just sent him away so I could tell you some woman talk.”

Rizzie rolled her eyes.

“Callie,” Maum went on, “you enjoy your youth while you can. There’s gonna come a day that you get up and look in the mirror or into a clear pond of water and you’ll see your reflection. And right before your eyes, everything will droop. Your face, your fanny, and your ta-tas.”

“Maum!” Rizzie exclaimed.

“She’s past thirty,” Maum said. “She knows ta-tas will droop one day. I’m just telling her to enjoy her youth while she has it.” Tyrone returned with a plate of chicken and a piece of pizza. Rizzie convinced Maum to go sit at one of the side tables. I didn’t bother to tell her that my ta-tas would never droop so long as Victoria’s Secret kept stocking those inflatable bras.

People of all ages crowded Slumber Room A. Some of my friends from school were there with their children and insisted on showing their offspring to me. Sometimes I think women who do that feel sorry for me that I don’t have any children, but I’d rather not ever have any than have one fathered by my ex-husband, Donnie.

Pearl White and George Carter were snuggling over in a corner. Pearl was wearing a lime green sundress. Levi and Denise stood across the room laughing. Jane and Frank were acting like this was a date, and even though people kept talking to me, I felt a little like a fifth wheel until I saw Daddy and my other brothers bring instrument cases from behind the food tables.

John signaled me with his finger. Not the “bad” finger. The motion was the one that meant
Come here
.

When I managed to move through the crowd to where Daddy and my brothers stood, Daddy pulled out a case I recognized and took out the most expensive instrument he owned—a pristine prewar Gibson banjo. He handed it to me.

“You gonna let me play the Gibson tonight?” I asked with delight.

“I’m gone let you play it tonight and from now on,” Daddy said. “I never gave you a birthday present before. This is my gift to you tonight, and I know it can’t make up for all the years that have passed, but with the rain and our power off, I haven’t had much time to go out and buy you thirty-two presents to make up for the lost years.” His best Larry the Cable Guy grin crept across his face. “But I did buy a generator, so the freezers are on and we won’t lose all the frozen fish. We can have us a big fish fry later.”

Aside from John, my family is not very demonstrative, but I reached up and hugged my daddy. He got all embarrassed-looking, so I kissed him on the cheek and made him blush redder than a boiled crab.

I said, “Don’t worry about the other years. You’ve made this one perfect. I love you, Daddy.”

“We’d better get busy picking or our guests will think all we’re gone do at this party is eat.” Daddy had displayed as much emotion as he could handle. We formed a circle and Bill kicked off “Salty Dog.” Soon people were dancing in the middle of Slumber Room A. This was a first for me. We’ve had live musicians play at funerals before, but never any dancing.

Playing
music and harmonizing with my brothers and Daddy always makes me happy. I even forgot to watch Levi and Denise until I noticed them dancing together. When we took a break, Odell stood in the middle of the room and announced, “If you’ll move to the sides of the room, my brother, Otis, will bring in the cake.”

I wondered how far a cake would go with this crowd, but when Otis pushed in a cloth-covered table, it had four large cakes on it, not just one. The biggest had pink sugar roses, “Happy Birthday Callie,” and lit candles on it. I looked down at the wheels on the cake table. They were metal, and the table was above waist-high.

That’s when I realized that my cakes were displayed on a sheet-covered gurney. I wondered if they’d used a new sheet or if this was one we’d used in the prep rooms. Not that they’d use a dirty one. If it were a used prep sheet, I was sure they’d gotten it from the clean laundry delivery, but it was still a little weird.

The crowd’s rendition of “Happy Birthday” was loud and boisterous. I noticed that one of the beer tubs was empty and the other was getting low. Wonderful food, good music, and lots of beer make for a great party and loud singing.

I hadn’t expected gifts, but after I blew out the candles, people started handing me packages. For someone who’d never before had a real birthday party, this was fantastic even if the wind was blowing a gale outside and the sound of the rain drowned out some of my thank-yous.

Buh-leeve me, I had never seen so many boxes of candy, bottles of cologne, mystery books, jars of bubble bath, and all kinds of other things, including an assortment of nail polishes from Rizzie and Maum. Tyrone gave me a little sweetgrass basket he’d made himself. Bill’s girlfriend, Molly, gave me a crystal dog—a Great Dane like my own pet Big Boy.

After I’d opened all my presents, Frank and Jane began serving cake and we started back playing music. Dennis Sharpe, the Carefree Pet man, came over, carrying a musical instrument case.

“When I heard you folks playing, I just had to go home and get my Dobro. Can I pick with you?”

“Sure,” Daddy replied. Most acoustic musicians welcome strangers to play. Sometimes that’s bad because not everyone plays very well, but Dennis Sharpe was fantastic on that resophonic guitar. The only thing bad was that every once in a while he’d scoot over to where I was and pat me on the shoulder. His touch made my flesh crawl as I thought about where he obtained cats and dogs for his Carefree Pets.

Otis stacked up all the gifts and told me he was putting them in my workroom. I was watching him take away my birthday loot when it happened.

I heard it before I saw it.

“Leave me alone!” The scream was louder than the music, the wind, and the rain all together.

“You put your finger in my cake. Who would let a blind girl serve food anyway?”

There she was—Dorcas Lucas at the cake table screaming at Jane, with Jane yelling right back at her even louder. Jane uses her fingertips to measure, to gauge, whether it’s how full a coffee cup is or how wide a slice of cake is. Of course she’d slightly touched each slice of cake she’d served, and though we’ve got plenty of gloves at Middleton’s, nobody had thought to offer her a pair.

“My hands are clean. If you didn’t want cake from me, why didn’t you get a piece from someone else?” Jane chuckled and a silly grin crossed her face. Then she continued, “On second thought, if you look like you act, you’re probably too ugly to get a piece from anyone.” Jane roared with laughter after this comment. I was sure Jane had helped diminish the beer supply.

I carefully put the Gibson back into its case and moved over to Jane. I put my hand on her arm. She jerked away, screeching, “Don’t you touch me, you . . .” She shouted a whole lot of names that I won’t even repeat.

That crazy Dorcas Lucas began bouncing: up, down, left, right. As she moved, she reached around me, tapping Jane at different places on her shoulders. Jane flipped out, trying to strike at where the woman seemed to be. I pulled Jane away, but she couldn’t tell who had her and fought against my restraint.

Frank grabbed her from me and said, “Jane, Jane, it’s me, Frank. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, no!” I didn’t mean to yell as loud as I did. “Jane’s my best friend. She’s not leaving. This witch is!” Okay, I confess, I didn’t say “witch.”