Divas Do Tell (38 page)

“
That’s
the news you called me before daylight to share? And since when have you been an early bird anyway? You’re always up until four or five in the morning and sleep past noon.”

“You can be so cranky. I’ve decided to be on a different schedule. Jackson Lee had me up early anyway so I can pay the fine and get Uncle Eddie’s tractor from the repair shop.”

I went temporarily lightheaded. How on earth had I forgotten about Daddy’s John Deere? If he found out it was gone and broken before it could be repaired and returned he’d be so upset.

“So did you get it from the repair shop?” I squeaked.

“Of course not, Trinket. It’s too early. Everything’s closed. I’m just up so I can get there early. I’ve already talked to Spike, and he’s going to put a rush on it when he gets in to work. When do you think is the best time to bring it back?”

“When Daddy isn’t home,” I replied. “Maybe I can take him and Mama out to eat. Let me know when it’s ready so I can lure them away from the house.”

“I’m glad he hasn’t noticed it’s gone yet.”

“Me, too.”

As always, I spoke too soon. Still groggy, I went downstairs to start the coffee but was once again behind my mother. She turned to look at me, a half-smile on her lips as she said, “Good morning.”

“Is it? It’s too early for me to tell,” I said, stumbling toward her for a cup of coffee.

Mama laughed, then Daddy came through the kitchen door, a thunderous expression on his face. “Someone stole my tractor,” he boomed. “Call the police!”

My heart sank. Too late. This wasn’t going to be easy to explain.

As Mama started toward the kitchen phone I put up my hand. “Wait. I know where the tractor is.”

Daddy turned toward me, surprise written all over his face. “You do? You know who stole it?”

“It wasn’t stolen. It was just . . . er . . . borrowed. It’s being fixed up and will be back in the shed long before grass-cutting time.” I hoped I was right. Daddy looked quite upset.

“Who borrowed it?” he wanted to know.

I decided not to hedge. He’d find out the truth anyway. “Bitty borrowed it. There was a slight problem so as soon as it was out of the impound lot it went straight to the repair shop.”

“Problem? Impound lot? Repair shop?” my father echoed. He looked dazed. He really does love that silly tractor. I’m not at all sure why. While it’s not normal to form attachments to inanimate objects, I find myself doing it all the time. My Ford Taurus, for instance, is a cherished part of my life. It’s rarely let me down, starts every time I put the key in the ignition, and rides so smooth I think it’s better than Bitty’s Franklin Benz. That thing is like a tank.

“Why did Bitty borrow the tractor?” my mother asked.

I sighed. “Why does Bitty do anything? Well, you see, she’d had a small accident in her own car and ended up staying here with me to recuperate. When she felt better she decided to go into town, but I was at work, and her Benz was still in the repair shop and her other car at home in her garage. So she borrowed the tractor to get into town. Yes, I know. It sounds stupid. But you know Bitty.”

“Yes,” Mama said with a sigh similar to mine, “I know Bitty.”

Daddy didn’t say anything for a minute. He just looked at me with reproach, and I felt guilty. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It just never occurred to me that Bitty would fire up the John Deere and ride it into town. If it hadn’t locked up on her she might have been able to get it to stop, but it did and she didn’t, so kept circling the courthouse. She took out half the lawn, a flowerbed or two, and some bushes. Since she’d also run over some of the movie peoples’ cables in the street I think someone called the police, and Rodney Farrell showed up. That’s how it ended up in the police lot.”

For a moment it was quiet. Then my mama started to snicker. She quickly put her hand over her mouth, but it didn’t completely muffle the sound. She tried to make it sound like a cough but didn’t fool me or Daddy. Finally his lips twitched. The dark expression on his face eased into amusement, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

By the time I told the entire story and my part in it, both my parents were laughing so hard tears ran down their cheeks. Mama leaned weakly against Daddy, fanning her face with one hand.

“Oh lord, that child has always been a mess. Poor Sarah used to fret so over her. I always said Bitty was born under a lucky star. She manages to come out on top every time.”

“Well, she did get stitches in her head, but she was lucky not to be hurt worse in the car wreck. Riley Powers broadsided her,” I said. “He was driving his dual cab truck, or he might have been the one in the hospital with stitches. That Benz is a tank.”

“It’s the rest of us who need to worry,” Daddy said. “Bitty may be under a lucky star, but we aren’t so lucky. One of these days all our luck is going to run out.”

Even though he doesn’t believe in such things, sometimes my daddy can be prophetic.

BUSINESS AT Carolann’s shop is notoriously slow in the first few months of winter, but this year the shop had gotten a nice bump from the movie people and curious tourists. We were fairly busy all morning. After lunch, Rose Allgood showed up with news about the factory she’s about to open in Holly Springs. It was once a toy factory. Now it would manufacture adult toys and mundane things like plastic spoons and forks. It’s nice to diversify.

“You should have made it to Bitty’s,” Carolann said to Rose as I checked out a customer. “It was lovely. Bruce Wallace is not only gorgeous, he’s very nice.”

Rose shook her head. “I’d have come if not for the emergency consultation the architect and engineer dropped on me. I never knew a few inches one way or the other could make such a huge difference in an assembly line.”

“There’s always some detail that can muck things up,” I said as the customer left with a bag of lovely new underwear. “Usually that detail is Bitty.”

We all laughed. As mentioned before, we all know Bitty.

“She certainly has a talent for doing the unusual,” Rose said in her offhand manner. “I’m always amazed.”

“As are the rest of us,” I agreed.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did when Bitty suddenly popped up, striding into the shop with all the assurance of a runway model.

“Good afternoon, all,” she said breezily. “I thought I’d find you here. Trinket, we never did finish our discussion about Sandra. Here. I brought the tabloid with me so you can read it for yourself.”

She plopped down a folded section of one of the sleazy tabloids. I’d begun thinking of them as sleazy ever since they began printing unflattering photos of me. I meant to ask Jackson Lee if I could sue them since they didn’t get my permission, but hadn’t yet. At any rate, I picked up the tabloid and saw the article she’d mentioned under the heading:
Actress Rekindles Romance?
“What well-known actress shooting a movie down south kept a late night with her former husband? Rumor has it that the May-October relationship is on again. Here’s a hint:
Steel Magnolias
meets
The Greek Gladiators
.”

I looked up at Bitty. “What does that mean? What Greek gladiators?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Trinket, don’t you ever read anything but Walmart ads? Bruce hit it big with his gladiator movie. He was already a rising star, but that put him on the map.”

“And the ‘May-October’ reference must mean Bruce is May and Sandra is October. How clever. Not to mention bitchy. Who writes these things?”

“No Nobel prize winners in that group,” Rose remarked, and I nodded agreement. Bitty rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, as busy as I am, and I still find time to keep up with current events.”

I looked at her. “Really? Who’s our vice president? Our Secretary of State?”

Bitty gave me a blank stare. It probably mirrored the one I had given her about the tabloid rumors. Then she dismissed my questions with a wave of her hand.

“That’s a different set of current events.”

“Of course. Movie stars are much more important than heads of state.”

“I didn’t say that. But the tabloids found out that Sandra and Bruce are together again when we didn’t even know. They must do around-the-clock surveillance, don’t you think?”

“It’s possible,” I agreed.

Carolann said, “The tabloids are always ahead of everyone else at digging up dirt on people. I think they must know where all the bodies are buried. So to speak.”

“An appropriate analogy,” I said. “I can see why Sandra wants to move somewhere much more private.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention that Sandra moved out to Snow Lake this morning,” Bitty said and I turned to gape at her.

“Snow Lake? Already? How did she manage that?”

Bitty smiled. “Laura called me late last night to tell me she’d gotten hold of the family who owns that beautiful place with the big iron gates on the little peninsula. It’s very private. No one can get in the gates unless buzzed in, and since it’s back at the far end of the lake’s middle finger, no one can spy on her by boat without being seen. I called Sandra, and she went out there immediately. One of the assistants is taking all her clothes and things to her.”

Carolann tilted her head to one side, frowning. “Is she going to like driving out there and back every day? It’s much more convenient in town I’d think, since this is where most of the movie is being filmed.”

“Oh, they’ll send her driver for her. Being a big star, she can get anything she wants just by asking someone to bring it out to her. That’s the way they do it in Hollywood.”

“I imagine she wants to get away from all the fans and constant demands on her free time too,” Rose suggested. “From what I’ve seen, actors don’t get a lot of free time when they’re filming a movie. Late nights and early mornings have to be difficult. I’m amazed they manage to evoke such drama and passion on-screen.”

“Don’t forget off-screen.” Carolann grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “Do you think Sandra and Bruce are really together again? Wouldn’t it be exciting if they got married here?”

I barely kept from rolling my eyes. It’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that I had so many other things to worry about that tabloid gossip was far down on the list. Bitty is near the top. Only my parents’ health and my daughter’s welfare beat her out. Personal money issues hover just below the
Will Bitty do something else stupid to get us nearly killed
position on the list.

Bitty, however, was more than willing to voice conjectures on the Bruce-Sandra romance possibilities. I eased away from them and found some underwear to fold. By the time I was ready to leave, they’d finished hashing and rehashing the romance issue, so I escaped without being forced into offering my opinions. It was still light outside, with winter easing toward spring.

Just as I reached my car, Bitty trotted down the back steps and toward me, juggling her dog-in-the-sling with a sack of new silk undergarments. “Trinket, wait a minute,” she called, and I leaned back against my car while she navigated the ruts and cracks in the uneven pavement.

“You should try out for the Flying Wallendas,” I said when she reached me.

She gave me a blank look. “Who?”

“The Wallenda family. Famous aerial acrobats? Walk a tightrope eighty New York floors up in the air?” When she still stared at me, I added, “I think one of them fell to his death doing one of the stunts, and they didn’t do it for a while.”

“Oh. I think I do remember that. It was awful. Why would you say I should join them? Are you trying to kill me off?”

“No. If I was going to do that, it’d be in a fit of pique, not a planned murder. I just meant I don’t know how you manage to walk across rubble in nine inch heels without falling.”

“Good heavens, Trinket, you take the long way around to get to your point, don’t you.”

“I learned early. So what are you up to now?”

“Uncle Eddie’s tractor is ready. Do you want to drive it out to him?”

It was my turn to stare at her with incomprehension. “Huh?”

“The tractor,” she repeated. “It’s ready. Someone has to take it to him or drive it out there. I thought you might want to do that.”

“Why would you think that? I have no intention of doing anything like that. You rode it into town. So technically, it’s your responsibility to ride it back to where you got it. Here. Hand me your dragon. I’ll watch her while you take it back.”

Of course, I knew she wouldn’t do anything remotely close to driving it back. It was just fun to watch her face when I suggested it.

A gust of cold wind lifted the collar of her light jacket as she pondered a way to get me to agree. I can read her like a book sometimes. Finally she said, “I’ll have it delivered by truck.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. So, what are you doing now?”

“Jackson Lee was going to take me out to dinner, but something came up with the big case he was working on, so he’s had to go over to Oxford to talk to another attorney. Why don’t you come by the house? We can drink something warm. I have leftovers, too.”

When I hesitated she said, “You don’t have to go home to feed critters so you can stay as long as you want.”