NOT What I Was Expecting (7 page)

“You are
overreacting.  Everyone embellishes their resume,” CeCe explained, as if that
should make me feel better.

With a tenuous
hold on that frayed thread, I leaned into CeCe and said just above a whisper,
“I wasn’t applying for a job, CeCe!  This is going to ruin . . . .”

“There they are.  Girls!” 
I heard my mother’s sigh of relief from 20 feet away.  She was walking toward
us with her arm around a distraught Shirley.  “CeCe, Maggie, I have to go speak
to Eliza’s family, because I’m representing the City Council.  I don’t feel
right about abandoning Shirley when she’s so upset.”  Pearl turned to Shirley,
“There, there dear.”

So that’s where I
got it.

“The girls will
stay with you, won’t you girls?”  Although it was phrased in the form of a
question, the look on Mother’s face left no wiggle room for our response.

“Of course we’re
here for you, Aunt Shirley,” I rushed in to put my arm around her shoulder, since
my mother had removed hers and was backing away.

“We’ll take care
of her Aunt Pearl,” CeCe practically oozed with relief.  No doubt she was
enjoying the fact that I had been interrupted before I was able to say
something we would probably both regret later.  I’d regret that I said it, and
she’d wish that she hadn’t deserved it.

CeCe turned her
attention to her mother.  “I know it’s upsetting, but did something happen to
make you this sad before the service even started?”

Shirley nodded,
wiped her eyes, and blew her nose with the tissue in her hand.  She tried to
speak clearly, “I was just talking to Viola Simpson from the Garden Club.  Her
nephew is a deputy with the Sheriff’s Department, you know.  I believe he was a
few years ahead of you girls in high school.  He’s a good-looking boy, used to
be on the track team, his aunt was telling me.”

“Mother,” CeCe
interrupted, since Aunt Shirley’s stories tended to be heavy with detail. 
Normally, CeCe would love to hear more since her mom was referring to her one
and only true love, Deputy Ben.  None of this was news to CeCe, because if it
was a detail about Ben, CeCe already had it down in triplicate.  “You were
going to tell us why you’re so upset,” CeCe nudged Shirley back on topic.

“Viola’s nephew,
Ben, is involved in Eliza’s murder investigation, and she just told me Eliza
was beat up pretty badly before she was strangled.”  The tears began to flow
once more but more calmly this time.  “Isn’t that just awful?  That poor dear. 
What she must have gone through.  To live such a peaceful life and have it end with
such violence.  It’s so sad,” Aunt Shirley was not able to say anything more
now that her tears were seriously streaming again.

I had to admit I
was getting a little misty-eyed myself.  Why would anyone feel it was necessary
to beat an 82 year old woman?  She couldn’t have been a threat to anyone.  It
didn’t make sense.  Aunt Shirley was right.  That was no way to leave this
world.

CeCe attempted to
steer her mother back to Ben’s aunt, since focusing on Viola, who was alive,
seemed less painful.  “So, Deputy Ben told his aunt the horrible details of
Eliza’s death?” CeCe inquired.

“Ben loves his
aunt, and I’m sure they have no secrets.  They’re very close, since she is one
of the few relatives he has left.”  Shirley hesitated for only a second and
then added in a conspiratorial tone, “Actually, he didn’t want to upset her by
going into the sad details.  She ended up accidentally overhearing his phone
conversation with the sheriff’s office.  Ben was at her house when the office
called to give Ben the autopsy results.  He didn’t want to disturb his aunt,
such a thoughtful boy, so he took his cell phone and went onto the porch to
take down the information.  Viola went into the living room, which was a little
stuffy, so she had to raise the window.  Then she noticed some dust, so she
stayed to tidy up and accidentally overheard Ben’s conversation.”

Shirley was making
this all sound coincidental, but I wasn’t buying it.  From the smirk CeCe was
trying to hide, I suspected she wasn’t either.  There was no benefit to
pointing out the questionable coincidence, since a mother’s right to know
usually outweighs any privacy issue.  It falls under the category of legally
entitled concern in her child’s life and wellbeing.  Viola’s now deceased
brother was Ben’s father, so I’m sure in her mind there is some sort of clause
to that rule that allowed her to stand in for Ben’s mother in certain
situations.  If she was anything like the sisters, there wasn’t much she
couldn’t justify.         

“C’mon, Mother. 
Let’s go sit for a minute until you feel better.”  CeCe shot me a look just
before steering Shirley toward the rows of chairs that had been set up.  The
look said, “
I’d better take care of her
,” but I suspected she was
thinking “
I’ve got the Mom Shield, so you can’t fuss at me now.
”

Since Aunt Shirley
was taken care of, I headed back to talk with Luke who was standing alone with
Barney.  The good thing about holding on to my anger with CeCe was that it
seemed to counteract my fear of saying something stupid in front of him. 
Good.  Maybe I could correct the initial impression I’d made as an empty-headed
klutz.

When Barney saw me
approaching, he gave me a wave and slight nod as he headed toward Eliza’s
family who were engrossed in a conversation with my mother.  Luke remained and
smiled at me as I walked over.  I tried not to look directly into the pools of
warm chocolate, I mean his brown eyes, without giving the impression that I was
intentionally avoiding the pools of — well, you know what I mean.  My intention
was to launch into the subject of him in order to avoid any more discussion
about me, but he beat me to the punch.

“Hello again,
Maggie,” he greeted me.  “Now maybe you can tell me more about your community
service.  I’m afraid the only service I’ve ever done in this community was
court ordered and a long time ago.”  I studied his face for a second to
determine if he suspected CeCe had lied and was now making fun of me.  His only
amusement appeared to come from the jab he took at his past, and I believed I
was seeing genuine interest in his expression.  Although my plan had been to
avoid my ‘volunteer work’ all together, I couldn’t look him in the eyes and do
anything except come clean.  Well, sort of.

“I’m afraid I have
to apologize for CeCe,” I began.  “I must have mentioned running into you,
literally, at the Build-N-Fix-It.  She’s a little protective and couldn’t stand
the idea of someone having a less-than-flattering impression of me, so she
exaggerated the glowing description of my efforts.”  I couldn’t very well tell
him that CeCe, unlike me, believes in love at first sight and was convinced he
was my soul mate, just because I had this stupid little crush on him.

“Oh, okay.  So
which part wasn’t an exaggeration?” Luke asked without any judgment in his
voice.

I suspected this
was about to go south fairly quickly.  He was probably going to feel foolish
for falling for the lies CeCe told, and that would make him angry.  That would make
him want to get as far away from me as possible.

There was no
turning back now, so I blurted out, “Maybe fabricated would have been a better
word than exaggerated.  I’m really sorry about that, Luke.  She didn’t . . . .”

I expected anger
or disgust to be evident on his face, but I was caught off guard when he began
to chuckle.  “Fry never told me you two were so funny,” he laughed softly.

I wasted only a
couple of seconds trying to decide if he meant funny as in “ha-ha” or funny as
in “weird.”  Oh well, I might as well ask.  It’s not like the question could
make him think less of me than he already did.

“Do you mean funny
like strange or . . . ,” I tried to inquire.

“I mean, I didn’t
know you had such a sense of humor,” Luke explained, smiling warmly.  “That
sounds like something Fry would have done.  No wonder he loves working with you
and CeCe.” 

It’s a miracle!  A
man who doesn’t take himself too seriously?  Who knew they really existed,
because I have to say, this would be my first time encountering such a
creature.

As I tried to
think of something charming and witty to say, Barney came back and began to
usher Luke toward Eliza’s relatives.  “Excuse me.  Can I borrow Luke for a minute? 
I want Eliza’s brother to meet my family,” Barney explained.

Bless you, Uncle
Barney, I thought.  While I was enjoying the conversation with Luke, I was
happy to have it end on a high note.  Especially when I noticed the chocolate
pools sparkle as Barney called him family.  I guess when you don’t have much,
you cherish what you have.

As I headed toward
CeCe and Aunt Shirley, I was intercepted by my mother.  “Maggie, did you offer
condolences to Miss Eliza’s family?  They’re very nice folks, even if they are
from Ohio,” Mother allowed.  She grew up being taught to be suspicious of
Yankees based on stories handed down about the War of Northern Aggression.  In
spite of her upbringing, I don’t think Mother ever met a Yankee she didn’t
like.

“Not yet, Mother. 
How are you doing?”  Although she looked better than Aunt Shirley, she didn’t
look good. 

“Oh, I’m fine,”
she said, with a wave of her hand for emphasis.  “I just feel bad for Eliza’s
brother and his wife.  They are so disillusioned.  They’re in their eighties
and their health is failing, which is enough to cause concern.  Then their home
was broken into about a week ago.  Fortunately, they weren’t home.  Now Eliza’s
been murdered, so they’re feeling very upset and vulnerable.  Crimes,
especially those against the elderly in this country, are out of control.”

“Poor things,” I
commiserated. 

“I know,” Mother
agreed.  “Do you know they called Eliza just after their break-in last week to
remind her to be careful since she lived alone?  They told me she assured them
this town is very safe, and she always kept her doors and windows locked, so
she said not to worry about her.  We will definitely be discussing how to make
things safer for the elderly at the next council meeting.”

“Don’t upset
yourself, Mother,” I encouraged.  “Think of your blood pressure.”  I was trying
to be comforting, and that might have worked with Aunt Shirley.  Unfortunately,
I was addressing my mother.

“Young lady, there
is nothing wrong with my blood pressure.  Your blood pressure could probably
take a lesson from my blood pressure, that’s how good it is.”  I could see
Mother was working herself up now.  “If I really wanted to make you jealous, we
could talk cholesterol.  My levels . . . . ”

“Sorry, mother.  I
forgot to whom I was speaking,” I justified until I decided to diffuse the
situation with a little honestly.  “You do realize it’s your fault I suck at
comforting others.  You never let me get any practice, because you have always
been determined to handle things in your own way.  How do you think that makes
me feel – knowing I can’t comfort my own mother?”

“Don’t say ‘suck,’
dear,” Mother couldn’t help correcting.  “And what do you mean you can’t
comfort people?  You have always been successful at everything you’ve done, and
that includes bringing comfort to others in their time of need.  I just don’t
happen to need comfort at the moment.”

See, that is why I
can’t stay mad at her.  Even when she doesn’t need me, she still likes me.  I
gave my mother a hug and said, “I love you too, Mother.  Now I better go speak
to the family, because I think the service is about to begin.”

I walked over to
Eliza’s brother and his wife and introduced myself, “Hello, I’m Maggie Eastman,
and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”

“That’s very kind
of you.  I’m Cheryl Parker, and this is my husband Joseph,” Eliza’s
sister-in-law responded.  “We’re still in shock.  This was so sudden, you
know.  It’s comforting to see others who cared about Eliza.  It breaks my heart
every time I look at Barney over there,” she nodded in the direction where Luke
and his Uncle Barney were standing.  “Eliza wrote of him often, and it’s clear
he will miss her tremendously.  He is such a sweet man.  He was always there
for Eliza, helping her take care of some family business and things like that. 
He was chatting with us for a while, but he seemed to become confused and
excused himself.  Your mother explained that it’s beginning to happen more
frequently with him.  I guess being on the city council, she keeps up with most
things on most people.”

I must have looked
surprised and confused as I was trying to figure out how she knew I was Pearl’s
daughter.

Reading my
expression, Mrs. Parker responded, “Oh, your mother pointed you out when we
were talking earlier.  She’s so proud of you, and with good reason.  You are a
lovely young woman.  Apparently, Barney’s nephew agrees since he hasn’t taken
his eyes off you since you came over.”

“What?”  I felt my
face go red and my throat close up, which left me speechless.  And I hadn’t
even turned around to look at him yet.

“Please take your
seats,” the priest instructed, so I quietly slid over to sit by CeCe and the
sisters.

CHAPTER 5

After the funeral
CeCe and I went to the Big & Blessed Maternity Shop to relieve Fry.  We were
filling Fry in on the details of the funeral, omitting the ‘Luke makes me weak
in the knees’ part of course, when CeCe’s phone started playing, “
Pour some
sugar on me.”

“Hey, Mother, I –
what?” CeCe asked.  “Okay, okay.  Calm down and start at the beginning.”

CeCe’s intense
tone brought our conversation to an immediate halt, allowing Fry and I to
eavesdrop more effectively.

CeCe was saying,
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, poor Mr. Trudeaux, right, well, that shouldn’t be a problem
since you’re a great cook.”  CeCe paused to listen for a minute, and I could
hear little squeaks coming through the phone.

“Oh, I see,” CeCe
said, nodding her head.  “Hmm, yeah, that’s a problem.  Um, oh, wait.  I
know!”  She turned to Fry so fast we both jumped.  “Fry, are you free this afternoon
if we don’t need you here?”

“Madame,” Fry
corrected, “I may be cheap, but I am never free.”

CeCe’s eyes rolled
heavenward.  I really do worry that they’re going to stick that way one of
these times, and she’ll spend the rest of her life looking at the inside of her
skull, which would be awkward.

“Fry, are you
available this afternoon to help my mother?” she said through clenched teeth,
nodding her head up and down vehemently.  Fry’s head and mine involuntarily
began to nod up and down with her.

“Why, yes I am,” he
agreed. 

“Did you hear
that, Mother?” CeCe announced gleefully into the phone with her hands making
calm, soothing motions.  “Fry’s available to help, so just relax.  Everything’s
going to be fine.  Yes, he’ll be there soon.  Yes.  Okay.  Bye.”  She hung up
the phone and leaned weakly against the counter.

“What’s going
on?”  I asked.

“My mother’s in a
state because Mr. Trudeaux broke his leg,” CeCe said in exasperation and threw
her hands up in the air as if that explained everything.

“Are they close?”
I asked, trying to make sense of what I’d heard so far.

“No.” CeCe
responded.  “He was supposed to cook a huge pot of jambalaya for the Senior and
Single meeting tonight.”

“Are we talking
about the bonbon meal?” I asked.

“Exactly,” CeCe
replied.

“He fell off a
ladder getting the big pot out of the attic and broke his leg.  Now he has
asked my mother to cook it in his place.  He even sent over the pot, the
ingredients, and his recipe.”

“That shouldn’t be
a problem.  She’s a great cook.”  I said smiling, now that the problem was
solved.

“That’s what I
said, but there is a problem.  His recipe is not doable for my mother.  His
instructions are along the lines of – add the bell peppers, onions, and pork,
then sauté for about two beers.  Then add the sausage and sauté for about one
beer and on like that.  You see the problem?” CeCe inquired.

“Your mother
doesn’t drink except for a glass of wine now and again,” I said as I began to
grasp the situation.

“Bingo,” CeCe
exhaled, relieved that I finally understood.  “That’s where Fry comes in.  She
needs him to, uh, assist her while she’s cooking so she can follow the
instructions to the letter.  She’s never attempted a big batch of jambalaya
like this one, so she feels she better stick to the recipe.  Mr. Trudeaux is
known for his awesome jambalaya, and everyone is looking forward to it.”  

She turned to Fry,
“No pressure.”

“None felt,”
confirmed Fry, with his
this-will-be-fun
grin.

A few minutes
after Fry left, a pack of five teenage girls all dressed in cheerleader outfits
breezed into the shop.  CeCe and I have learned not to try to figure out the
customers but rather just wait and see.  They waved and smiled at us, so we
waved and smiled at them.  They walked in and out of the clothes’ racks, talking
a mile a minute to each other and giggling.

After a few
minutes of this I looked at CeCe, “Time?”

“Sure,” she
nodded.

I walked over to
them smiling, “May I help you ladies?”

“Oh, yes,” said
one girl.

“We’ve got so much
to shop for,” said another girl.

“She’s so lucky,”
said yet another.  “She married the captain of the football team,
and
she’s going to have a baby!”

Then there was
another chorus of “she’s soooo lucky!”  It became obvious that it was the
pretty blonde in the middle that was the sooo lucky one.

“Would you like me
to show you around the shop?” I asked her.  “Obviously you’re not showing yet,
but then when the time comes you’ll know what we have.”

“That would be
super awesome,” the mom-to-be bubbled.

“Okay then,” I
said cheerfully.  “Follow me.”

First I took them
to the undergarments section.  “These may be some of the first things you’ll
need to buy.  Sometimes you can still fit in some of your clothes, but your
normal underwear just can’t hang in there anymore.  Even before your stomach
starts to grow your breasts will get bigger.”

The girls got very
excited.

“You’re soooo
lucky,” one of her posse repeated.  “You even get bigger boobs!  That’s so
unfair.”

Another girl
picked up a bra and said, “Look how plain this bra is though.  Don’t you have
lace or colors?  Oh my God!  It’s got a trap door and your boob falls out!  Oh
my God!”

This was followed
by many “Oh my Gods” and “eewwwws.”

“Those are our
nursing bras.  You won’t need that until just before the baby arrives,” I said
gently.

The mother-to-be
looked shell shocked and said, “Oh, my God!  I’ll have to wear that to feed the
baby?”

“If you decide to
breast feed, yes,” I said wishing this girl’s mother was here instead of her
posse.

The young newlywed
just stood there and tried to process the information.  It must have been hard
to think with all those “Oh, my Gods!” flying around.  I could see this was a
lot for her to digest, so I tried to move the gang to the t-shirt section.  I
wasn’t fast enough.  One of the girls spied the maternity panties.

“Oh MY God!  Look
at the size of these things.  Oh, my God!  Are you going to get this big?” she
said holding up one of our most humongous pair of panties.  They looked at the
mother-to-be who looked helplessly at me.

I wish Fry was
here.  He’d have this young mom-to-be wrapped around his little finger and
welcoming the joys of motherhood.

“A lot of women
don’t get quite that large, so I don’t think you have to worry about that right
now.  There are some cute tops over here that you should see.”  They were all very
quiet now, but they followed me.

I took a sassy
little red and black shirt off the rack.  “You would look so spectacular in
this,” I said cheerfully.

She actually
smiled.  Thank you, Jesus.

“CeCe,” I called
over my shoulder looking for support.  “Come help me find a few more things to
show this adorable little mother.  I just can’t decide, because she’s so
pretty.  Everything would look great on her.”

Her posse did a
chorus of, “Oh my God, it’s so true.”

Then one of the
girls said in a terrible voice, “What
is
this?”

I turned to see
her holding up a large, full-bodied dress meant to cover your belly to the very
end of your pregnancy no matter how large you grew.

“It’s a dress,” I
said, but that’s all I had time to say.  The expectant mother fled the shop in
a trail of “Oh my God’s.”

The other girls
rushed after her while asserting, “Honey, it’ll be okay,” and “that could never
happen to you.”

I yelled after
them, “Don’t worry.  It snaps back after the baby comes.” 

The bells jangled
as the last one exited the shop.

She just needed
some time.

The rest of the
day was blissfully uneventful.  We took a few hours to work on inventory after
the shop closed before calling it a day.  Since the sisters had promised us
some jambalaya leftovers, we headed over to their house after we left the shop.

“How do you think
Fry made out?” CeCe asked as we pulled up in the driveway. 

“I guess we’ll
find out,” I said. “There are still some cars here.  How long can these people
party?”

We walked into the
house, through the great hall that goes down the middle of the house, and
straight to the back door.  As we stepped outside, we saw Fry standing in the
middle of eight single seniors very animatedly telling a story.  Suddenly, they
all burst out laughing.  I guess he was making out okay.  We found the sisters
by the food tables beginning to pick up plates and decorations.

We walked over and
I asked, “Did the jambalaya turn out all right?”

“Perfect,” my
mother exclaimed happily.  “Fry was such a help.  And boy did he hit it off
with all the single seniors.  He’s been invited to our next shindig.  He’s a
hoot.”

Ah, Fry.  He is such
a renaissance man.  The last few stragglers to leave the party were patting Fry
on the back as they told everyone goodbye.  I turned and saw Fry walking up the
steps of the house.

“Fry, where’re ‘ya
going?” I wanted to know.  I’d been thinking on the drive over that this might
be a good opportunity to pump him for some details on Luke.  Casually, of
course, I was hoping.  I can be very casual.  I’ve been known to be deceptively
casual at times.

“I’ll be right
back,” Fry answered.  “Ms. Eleanor needs my advice on something before she
goes.”

“Please call me
Ellie,” insisted Ms. Eleanor to Fry.  “All my friends do.”

I smiled and shook
my head.  Good ol’ Fry.

CeCe walked over
and helped me cut the balloons from the table legs.  “Did Fry say he’s staying for
a while?” CeCe asked, going for nonchalant but not quite sticking it.

“Yeah, I think
so.  Why?” I asked not at all nonchalant.

“I was just
thinking,” she said.  “Maybe we can find out something else about Luke.  I mean,
if it happens to come up in conversation.”  She added a wink on the end, just
in case I didn’t get her meaning.

I got it.

“I was thinking
the same thing, but please let me do the digging.  Okay?” I pleaded.

“You think I can’t
be subtle.  Well, missy, let me tell you, I can subtle like nothing you’ve ever
seen before,” CeCe said obviously offended.

I sighed deeply. 
That’s sort of what worried me.  “Okay.  Just don’t try to dig too deep, or
he’ll never let me hear the end of it,” I suggested.

She smiled,
satisfied now.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll both just ask a few harmless questions. 
He won’t even notice,” CeCe assured me.

Uh-huh.

We made a few more
trips into the house to finish cleaning up and then sat in the lawn chairs that
had a tray of lemonade on the table next to them.  The sisters were relaxing in
front of their flat screen with their feet up, since we told them we’d handle the
inside clean up in a few minutes.  First things first.  We had to pick Fry’s
brain.

Fry walked up and
asked, “How are my favorite ladies?”

I patted the chair
next to me, “Come, tell us about your evening,” I said sweetly.

“Absolutely,” said
CeCe.  “Tell us everything,” she encouraged as she gave me a knowing look.  The
look, unfortunately, was also caught by Fry.

“What up, ladies?”
he asked eyeing us suspiciously.

“Nothing,” I
answered quickly.  “It’s just a beautiful fall night, so we thought we’d enjoy
the stars and visit with you.  We got you some lemonade.”

He bought it.

“Awesome.  I was
beginning to feel parched.  How did things go at the shop today?” Fry wanted to
know.

“Good,” CeCe told
him.  “It was really busy, but that’s a good thing.”

“Sweet,” said Fry
raising his glass.

“Sooo . . . ,”
CeCe said, and I instantly knew what was coming next.

I tried to use ESP
to send her a
Stop, it’s too soon!
message.

“Why don’t you
tell us more about Luke?” CeCe continued.

Oh no!  She said
it.  Crap.  Why doesn’t that ESP message stuff ever work?  After all, our high
school science teacher used to tell us he thought we shared one brain between
us.

Fry had been
looking at CeCe but now immediately turned to look at me.  “What would you like
to know?” he said slyly.

All of a sudden
the ice cubes in my glass became so fascinating, I couldn’t look anywhere else.
 CeCe stepped in to pry Fry’s unwavering glare off me.

“Why don’t you
tell us more about Luke’s Uncle Barney?  You sounded as if you really liked him,”
CeCe suggested innocently.

Yes!  Atta girl,
CeCe.  Don’t jump right into the love life questions.

“He’s a cool old
dude.  He was really cool when he was younger, too.  He was telling me how he owned
a tugboat business.  He was a tugboat captain first, which is cool enough, but
then he started buying up boats as he could afford them.  Like an entrepreneur
or something.  When he retired and sold all the boats, even he was surprised at
how much he made from them.  The old dude is living the good life, man.  He’s
always trying to buy things for Luke, but Luke won’t let him,” Fry laughed and
continued.  “Luke’s always been an independent cuss.”

“Has Luke ever
been married?” CeCe asked.

Oh yeah, she subtled
like nothing I ever
wanted
to see.

“Noooo,” Fry
responded, looking over at me again.

I needed a
distraction.  There must be a UFO in this night sky somewhere.  What was that
tune that calls them again?

“He’s never been
married,” Fry maintained.  “I’m sure he must have met a lot of babes during his
travels with the Peace Corps, but I’ve never heard him mention anyone in particular. 
To hear him tell it, it was mostly him up to his knees in mud and bugs.  Well,
mud, bugs, and thugs of all kinds.  I would NOT want to have been in some of
the situations Luke’s been in.  Man, he’s turned into a tough guy.  Really
knows how to handle himself, you know.  He had to, I guess.  I really admire
the dude.  I don’t think I could’ve done it.”