Laughter in the Wind (8 page)

Rebecca told her how Mary had moved to St. Louis several years before she died and of the secrecy surrounding her death. She hadn’t been able to find any relatives in the area despite all her research. They looked closely at the other markers in the cemetery but garnered no new clues.

“Why does your dad think you would fall in a grave if you walk over it?” Olivia asked, stepping carefully around where she thought each coffin would be buried.

“They used to not put those concrete vaults in the ground to put the coffins into so over the years the wooden coffins would rot and the ground would settle and become soft at the top. I guess people would sink down into the dirt some if they walked over one in that condition. I’ve never seen it happen but I’ve always been told about it,” Rebecca explained.

“Do you spend a lot of time in cemeteries then?” Olivia teased.

“Well, actually, more than you might think. In the summer, about once a month, Dad and I mow the family cemetery on the other side of town. Every Memorial Day, we have a family picnic at the old log church at the family cemetery grounds and about a month before that we have a work day and different members of the extended family show up to do upkeep on the old church and keep things repaired. I’ve also been to probably twenty or more funerals in my life.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—twenty funerals?”

“Yeah, at least. I don’t know, maybe more. I didn’t really keep count, you know.” Rebecca was surprised by Olivia’s reaction. “Does that seem strange to you?”

“Yes,” Olivia answered definitively. “I have been to a total of three funerals and I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone our age who has been to nearly as many as you. Is this a secret hobby of yours or something? Is there some strange morbid side to you I need to know about?”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s really not that unusual around here. Everyone in a small town knows everyone else. So every time anyone dies, almost the whole community either goes to the visitation, the funeral, the cemetery, or some combination of the three. Everyone stands around and visits with everyone else and if the deceased is from a large family like my dad’s, it can be like a family reunion, especially when we all get together for the dinner afterward.” Rebecca realized it was probably hard for someone from a big city with a scattered family to comprehend the local culture surrounding funerals.

“That sounds nice, in a way. I mean, if you could call a funeral nice, that is. It sounds like everyone kind of sticks together to get through the grief. That sure beats trying to handle it alone. I remember when my Gran died. I was about ten and I felt so isolated. Everyone sat quietly like they were afraid to talk. After the memorial service ended, everyone just went home like nothing had happened. Nobody talked about anything and I remember how confusing it was to me.”

“That sounds like it must have been hard on you, just being a kid and all.”

“I think I’d like your way a lot better.”

Rebecca remembered Grandma’s explanation about the circumstances around Mary Farthing’s funeral. “Grandma said there was a lot of secrecy surrounding Mary’s death. She died in the city and they brought her back to bury her close to their home. I got the feeling it wasn’t a typical funeral for this area, either. I wonder why?”

“Maybe it’s been Mary’s ghost everyone has seen all of these years and the ghost did the digging,” Olivia suggested in a teasing manner, changing the tone of their conversation.

“I think that’s highly unlikely,” Rebecca responded in a manner indicating her doubt in the presence of ghosts.

As they were leaving, Olivia asked, “Where does this little road go?”

“Oh, there’s an old farmhouse up there.” Rebecca had a sudden thought. “Do you still have that picture with you, Olivia?”

“Sure, here in my coat pocket,” she said, pulling it out quickly.

Rebecca was already several steps ahead of her, hurrying up the small road. As she rounded a small bend to the abandoned, ramshackle farmhouse she eagerly turned and took the picture from Olivia. “I thought I recognized that house. This is it, I’m sure of it. This house used to look like that house in the picture.”

At first, Olivia looked at the decaying building doubtfully. The roof had partially collapsed into the second story and the porch roof curved down like a grotesque clown smile between the first and second stories. Some of the rusted tin from the roof lay scattered across the yard, and the faded plywood that had once boarded all the windows had been removed in places, probably by vandals. She had a hard time imagining the house as it must have once appeared. After studying the picture again, however, she became as convinced as Rebecca. The windows were in all the right places, the general outline was the same.

Olivia grabbed Rebecca in a quick hug and jumped up and down with her. “You did it, Bec! You found the house!”

Suddenly both stopped moving, straining to hear a distant sound. From back around the bend came a sound of women laughing. “Did you hear that?” Olivia asked.

“Yeah, come on.” Rebecca grabbed her hand and they dashed back along the route they had just taken. When they rounded the bend, they saw no evidence that anyone was there or had been there.

After looking around for a few more minutes, Rebecca walked back into the cemetery to look at Mary’s headstone. She said, “I think I did more than find the house, Olivia. You know, the Farthings lived in that house when the picture was taken. I’ve seen copies of the deeds. I may have found MJ for you.”

“Wow. I get it. You think MJ was Mary J. Farthing.” Olivia had walked up behind her to consider the stone again and looked and sounded shocked that they had linked so many things together. “So, who was Ralph?”

“I’m not sure.” Rebecca laughed. “You expect me to figure everything out for you? Do I look like Sherlock Holmes or something?”

Olivia donned a serious face and studied Rebecca from head to toe, causing Rebecca to blush hotly. “I would choose
something
to answer that question, and I don’t believe you are all ears, either.” She smiled that funny smile, turned before Rebecca could gather herself to respond, and headed back through the pasture toward Uncle Jim’s house.

Rebecca followed, not hurrying to catch up immediately but letting her thoughts catch up with all the light flirting that had taken place so far. She decided she was okay with the direction things were heading so she picked up her pace to finish walking quietly beside Olivia.

On the drive back to Rebecca’s house, they decided to look through their research again to see if they could find a link between MJ, Jane, or Ralph. They chose to combine their mysteries as one and the mood stayed light as they speculated wildly about how they could be linked. Olivia joked about getting a shovel and coming back to the graveyard at midnight. Rebecca told her she was crazy and if she fell into an old grave or was pushed into one by a ghost, it would serve her right. They entered Rebecca’s house still laughing and teasing each other.

“I didn’t realize your father and Uncle Jim were that amusing,” her mother chimed in, which added to the girls’ laughter. “And thank you for wearing your caps.”

This only made them laugh more. As soon as they were able to control their giggles, they filled her in on the events of the afternoon. They both brought their notebooks to the table and looked through them as Rebecca’s mother prepared supper. They had offered to help but she had shooed them away, telling them to work on their mystery instead. Although they were disappointed to not discover more clues in their papers, they still considered the afternoon a wonderful success.

Chapter Seven

Supper went quickly and Rebecca’s parents asked Olivia questions about her experiences growing up on and around army bases. She also explained more about her family in St. Louis.

“My great-grandma was Jane Smith. We always called her Gran. She was the oldest child from a large family, they’re all dead now. She died several years ago, at the age of ninety-nine. Smith was her maiden name, I guess she must have changed it back to Smith when my great-grandfather died. No one would ever talk about him, so I don’t even know what his name was. The Smiths were an influential family in the city at that time. One of Gran’s brothers was a banker, one was a doctor, her father was a judge. Gran lived with her parents while she raised my grandmother. Grandmama was her only child.”

“Did you ever live with your Gran or Grandmama?” Beth asked.

“When we were little and my dad would deploy, Mom would move us, my two older brothers and me, to stay with one of Gran’s younger brothers or sisters. They were all pretty old then, so we would have to play quietly and be on our best behavior. We were always glad when he was stationed stateside. Gran lived with Grandmama then. I don’t know why but we never stayed with them.”

“Sounds like you had to grow up pretty quick,” Beth observed.

“I guess,” Olivia said. “But it was okay. I mean, Mom and Dad had to sacrifice too, when he went away. It was kind of like that was our part. We were a team.”

Rebecca and Olivia offered to clean up the kitchen after the meal, allowing Rebecca’s parents to shower and change clothes to attend the visitation in Rockford.

“Girls, have a good evening,” Rebecca’s mother said as they left. “Olivia, make yourself at home. We should be back around nine or so.”

“Bye,” they said in unison as they put the last of the dishes back into the cabinets.

Rebecca suddenly realized she was alone with Olivia and the nervousness she had been fighting all day returned in a flash. “So, would you like to watch some TV or a movie?” she offered in a somewhat croaky voice.

Olivia shot her a strange look but followed her silently to the living room where Rebecca indicated the stacks of movies under the TV. Olivia knelt on the floor and flipped through the DVDs quickly. “Do you have any favorites?” she asked.

“I like some of the older ones, like
Beaches
,
Sleepless in Seattle
or
Fried Green Tomatoes
,” Rebecca said. “But really, I’m not too picky.”

“Let’s watch
Fried Green Tomatoes
,” Olivia said, picking out the DVD from the stack. “Do you have popcorn?”

“I can do better than that. I have popcorn
and
cherry Coke,” Rebecca offered.

She hurried to the kitchen to put the popcorn in the microwave and returned with two tall glasses of cherry Coke, setting them on the coffee table. She showed Olivia how to get the movie started then returned to the kitchen for the popcorn. Just as the opening credits were rolling, she brought in a large bowl of popcorn and sat down next to Olivia on the sofa.

Rebecca was aware of her bad habit of stuffing herself with popcorn. She would catch herself shoving handful after handful into her mouth as if she were starving to death. Tonight, she was determined to control herself. After all, it was impolite and unattractive.
Uh-oh!
There went Rebecca’s thoughts, out of control again.
So, now you’re worried about whether you are attractive or not. What is that supposed to mean?

Stop!
She told herself, allowing a muffled sound to escape from the force of the command.

“Did you say something?” Olivia asked.

“Uh, no. I just belched. Must be the Coke. Excuse me.” Rebecca was getting more flustered.

Olivia must have noticed her unease because she focused her attention on the movie, giving Rebecca time to collect herself. Finally, she relaxed and began to enjoy the movie, so much so that she barely noticed when Olivia moved the empty popcorn bowl from where it sat between them on the sofa and put it on the coffee table. Olivia shifted closer to her so their thighs touched lightly. Rebecca was surprised when the movie ended to find her arm along the back of the sofa behind Olivia’s shoulders, and Olivia snuggled tightly against her side. She felt so comfortable, she didn’t move as she used the remotes to turn off the DVD player and switch the TV to an all-music channel. She was trying hard to keep her mind quiet and to just enjoy this strange, warm new feeling of closeness.

“What do you think about the movie?” She had been so intent on staying relaxed that Olivia’s voice almost made her jump.

“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked, suspecting Olivia had more than a general response in mind.

“Do you think they were just best friends or do you think they were lovers?” Olivia asked softly.

Rebecca had wondered that very thing every time she had seen the movie but had never been sure. “I don’t know. But I’m not sure it really matters, because they obviously loved each other. They lived their lives together, as a family.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Olivia said. She turned her head to look closely at Rebecca.

Their noses were only a few inches apart and Rebecca could feel Olivia’s warm breath against her face. She sat motionless, and if the world was still turning, she was no longer a part of the rotation. Olivia smiled slowly then she gently leaned forward, closing the distance between them. When her lips touched Rebecca’s, Rebecca thought she had never felt anything so soft, so hot and so smooth in her entire life. She felt like she was melting, starting at the lips. She nearly cried out when Olivia broke the contact.

Rebecca opened her eyes to see Olivia looking at her with that funny smile. “I hoped that was the reaction I was going to get,” Olivia said quietly.

Rebecca answered by leaning toward her, seeking another kiss.

Rebecca’s friends had teased her about being “Sweet 16,” then “Sweet 17,” then “Sweet 18.” They had told her she didn’t know what she was missing. She had told them they were crazy. Over the next several minutes, she made up for all that lost time, learning all she ever needed to know about the art of kissing. And although she had no one to compare her to, Olivia was about the best teacher anyone could ever hope to have. If kissing felt this good, she, not her friends, must have been crazy.

Rebecca’s annoying thoughts had all been strangely silent during this time. She was too caught up in the feel of those fabulous lips then in the feel of Olivia’s soft body pressed against hers, their breasts pressed together. Olivia stroked her hair, her face, her back. Rebecca ran her hands across the soft curves of Olivia’s hips then pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, feeling like she wanted to pull Olivia into her own skin. Olivia moved one hand around and placed it between them, flat against Rebecca’s breastbone. She gently created a little space between them and slowly eased out of the kiss.