The Witch and the Borscht Pearl (21 page)

“I know you
think
she is,” I said, “but what if she’s really guilty?”

A shadow fell across Mrs. Risk’s face, and the planes of her body suddenly, amazingly, shrunk into very old age and she became to my astonished eyes a bent-backed crone with claw-like fingers and craggy features. She looked at me as if through a haze of pain that I didn’t understand. “If Pearl is guilty, it will negate all the decades I’ve spent learning to understand human nature. If Pearl has been true to herself, she can’t be guilty.”

I blinked and the vision disappeared. I felt a shiver of fright pass through me. I stared at her for another moment, but she showed no signs of returning to the shape of whatever I’d seen. What had been in that tea?

“You could be wrong. What about the evidence you found? Pearl could’ve lied to us,” I insisted.

“Pearl’s made a career of telling uncomfortable truths in endearing ways,” said Mrs. Risk with a half smile. “Why should she start lying now?”

“Seems to me she started back in August,” I snapped.

I whirled away from the window and began to pace, slapping my arms roughly. I needed to wake up, to decide what to do. Do? I rubbed my cheeks with my palms in despair. Think!

“Does Bella know Pearl has no money?” I asked suddenly.

“I don’t know. Oh, by the way,” she continued in a thoughtful tone of voice, “Michael says Bella has a record in France.”

“For what?”

Mrs. Risk’s mouth twisted. “For shoplifting. Extortion. And a little spot of fraud from some con games I gather she participated in. He offered to send me the names and details but I said not to bother. No convictions.”

“Why? Where the victims all men and they dropped the charges?”

Mrs. Risk’s eyes twinkled just the slightest. “I didn’t ask.”

“Oh, fine. Just terrific. I suppose you’re sure she’s innocent, too?”

“I haven’t decided what to think about Bella. I’m not defending her. I just want—”

“You just want Pearl to live happily ever after, no matter what! Free of suspicion, her comeback a raging success, with her beloved sister also free of suspicion. All her dreams come true. Just because you happen to care about her. Omigosh. How naive can you get for an old woman?”

Mrs. Risk laughed outright. “I beg your pardon? OLD?” At that moment she looked very young, amazing me again.

Jezebel chose that moment to stalk across the room from the fireplace. Our arguing must have disturbed her. She approached me stiff-legged, crouched at my feet for a split second, then lunged her front feet upward to land them high on my thighs. She unsheathed her claws and in a slow luxurious cat-stretch, gouged my legs all the way down to the floor.

“Ow!” I jerked away too late. “I felt that right through my jeans.”

“She’s angry with you that you don’t trust me,” murmured Mrs. Risk. She went to the coat stand by the door and lifted her cloak off the hook. She wrapped it around her, looking very much the witch and again agelessly vital. “I’m going to Solly’s to sit with Pearl. Although, I suppose I should start calling the place Bella’s. Want to come?”

Helplessly I gazed at her from across the room. “Sure,” I finally said, giving up. I wanted so much but had no idea how to get it, or even what ‘it’ was. I stood and took my coat from her hands. “We’ll have to stop by the shop. Daniel—”

“Oh, I’ve already called Daniel. He said he’d be happy to open the shop after school, and that you weren’t to worry about the orders that came in yesterday. A friend of his who has access to a car will deliver them for you. Free. The friend thinks it’s fun and has nothing better to do. Hmmph. Fun. Only an infant would think driving a car is fun.”

She opened the door and we faced the frigid weather together.

W
E ARRIVED
at Solly’s—Bella’s—after eleven. I slogged through the puddles to reach the door, still feeling limp and slightly drugged. I also still felt spooked at the illusion I’d experienced of Mrs. Risk’s … old age?

The housekeeper, Mrs. Harmon, opened the door with only a glum look as a response to our greetings. After taking my coat and Mrs. Risk’s cloak, she rolled off into the back regions, abandoning us unannounced.

“She must be counting the hours until she can retire,” I murmured. “Either that or the glamour of keeping house for Bella has faded already.”

We stepped to our left into the living room, searching for life. There we found Bella sitting by herself on the sofa, staring into a roaring fire. Pearl was nowhere in sight. Bella never stirred. Was she too exhausted to move, or just didn’t care what happened around her?

Before either of us could speak, Zoë entered the room and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of us. Heaving an indignant sigh, she strode forward until she stood between us and Bella.

I felt my eyebrows lift. “Protecting Bella from us now, Zoë?”

She asked plaintively, “What is it about us that attracts you?”

“Where’s Pearl?” I asked.

“She went to lay down,” said Zoë.

“Zoë,” began Mrs. Risk. With an exaggerated sigh, Zoë transferred her attention pointedly from me to her. “Would you mind going with us to another room to talk? Obviously Bella isn’t eager for company.”

“Me neither,” said Zoë.

Mrs. Risk smiled. “But we don’t have to worry about you, do we dear? You’re stronger than all of us put together.”

Zoë bristled. “You should be worrying about me all right. Only not about my health. I know a lawyer who’d love to sink his teeth into a harassment suit.”

“Who, that single cell-brained Bruce Altman?” asked Mrs. Risk with a humph. “Never mind. If you talk with us now, we’ll leave you alone forever after,” said Mrs. Risk as if dangling a juicy worm in front of a fish.

“Liar,” she said succinctly.

“Takes one to know one,” I said, only just refraining from sticking out my tongue.

“When did I ever lie to you?” she demanded, glaring at me.

“Why? Have you lied so much you lost track?”

Mrs. Risk said, “Come with us. Before we’re done I think you’ll regret your gratuitously insulting remark.” Taking Zoë’s arm, she led her through the connecting door to the dining room, which I closed behind us. We pulled out chairs and grouped ourselves at one end of the broad table.

“I never lied to you,” protested Zoë. “Not that I care about you, but I don’t lie.”

“Well, let’s say you let us believe some things that weren’t exactly true,” said Mrs. Risk.

“Like?”

“Like that Pearl was heartbroken to relinquish her romantic interest in Solly.”

My eyes widened. But we now knew this was true. Didn’t we? I glanced nervously at Mrs. Risk.

She continued, “You stated it in hopes of covering the fact that your outrage, which was genuine, was really for yourself.” Solly’s portrait loomed over us at my left. The twinkle in his pigmented eyes dared us to uncover his tangled relationships.

Mrs. Risk gazed intently at Zoë. “If you loved Solly so much yourself, why were you promoting his alliance with Pearl? Even though Pearl is your good friend, friendship shouldn’t demand such a sacrifice.”

Zoë flushed an unhealthy purple. Finally, she said, “Look at me, what chance did I have?” Her voice was hoarse with either fury or embarrassment. “Take a good look, although I got to tell you—I may be overweight now, but years ago, I was just flat obese. Pearl helped me get my weight more under control.

“You probably won’t believe me when I tell you that I had Solly on his knees when I was twenty nine.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I was so in love with him that I—I gave him everything. And him? He hardly made space in his busy schedule for me. I thought he would marry me, in my stupidity. I thought—well, hell with what I thought. He wanted Pearl. Always Pearl, who never gave him a second look.”

“Maybe that’s why he went after her so hard,” Mrs. Risk ventured. “Some men like the unattainable. It’s safer.”

“Oh, stuff your pop psychology. What does it matter now, anyway? But back then,” said Zoë bitterly, “I was ten times the woman Pearl was. And twenty times as attractive. But even then she was my best friend. There’s nobody with a heart as generous, as good as hers. So if I had to lose Sol, hell, all right, I’d at least lose him to Pearl. That made it bearable.

“A few years passed, I started putting on the pounds, and any hope I had for Solly …” Tears welled in eyes as crusted over with wrinkles as an old turtle’s. I felt answering tears threaten in my own.

“Did you ever marry?” I asked.

She glared at me. “What for?”

Good point.

Mrs. Risk said, “Pearl told me she really didn’t mind when Bella ‘took’ Solly away from her. She’d been feeling guilty. She worried she was being selfish because she didn’t love Solly romantically. She said she really only wanted somebody to share her life. A companion. She was lonely. When Bella showed up, she was much more eager to share her life with her sister instead. And when Bella and Solly fell in love—”

“Solly fell, but not Bella,” snapped Zoë. “That woman’s got a heart as cold as a—” She looked at Mrs. Risk and actually chuckled. “You really a witch?” she asked.

I looked at Mrs. Risk with interest. How would she answer?

Mrs. Risk’s obsidian eyes narrowed. “That’s what some say.”

I sighed in disappointment.

“And you don’t discourage them, right?” Zoë snorted. “I don’t blame you. Why not? Touch of the theatrical in all of us.”

I nearly laughed out loud. She’d definitely nailed Mrs. Risk on that one.

“So you thought Solly really was in love,” Mrs. Risk said. “Yes, that’s what I thought, too.”

I said to Mrs. Risk, “Maybe Bella wasn’t really cold, maybe she was just playing hard to get. If he liked going after what he couldn’t have, maybe that’s how she grabbed and then kept his attention.”

Zoë shook her head. “You could be right about her effect on him. But there was nothing fake about her act—at least toward Solly. Her cool ‘don’t touch me’ shtick was for real.”

“Did Solly sleep around?” asked Mrs. Risk.

“Humph. Do cats scratch?”

Reminded of Jezebel’s parting gift this morning, my thighs throbbed.

“How could he be that horny?” I asked. “He was sixty.”

Zoë gave me a scornful look. “So? Sixty, shmixty. Age has nothing to do with it. Went after every woman he could shtup.”

“Oh? Like who?”

“Like who not? Except me and the other old fat ones.”

I leaned back. “Boy, you’re a hot blooded bunch.”

“Look here. Don’t assume that just because a woman’s old she wouldn’t welcome a nice warm roll in the sack just as eagerly as you, with your young firm body. Do you like sex?”

I squirmed, but didn’t reply.

“Well, so do most of us, although a few would rather eat worms. But isn’t that true of people your age, too? Always a few ice cubes in the glass.”

Late life sex. “Never gave it much thought,” I admitted.

“Well, think it or not, you’ll be in my place before you know it.” She said this with ghoulish resentment as she stood up.

“Wait. Tell me about Vivian Steiner?” asked Mrs. Risk. I noticed she’d been enjoying Zoë’s little lecture to me.

“What about her?”

“Can she be trusted?”

Zoë gave a short laugh. “With what? Your husband? Nah.”

“Is she a liar?”

“I thought it took one to know one. She should know,” stated Zoë nastily, tipping her head my way. She stalked towards the kitchen, smacking the swinging door open hard with her palm as if she imagined my face on the other side of it.

Mrs. Risk heaved a deep sigh. “Rachel, when you make friends, you make them for life.”

She stood up, and so did I, stretching.

“Still tired?” she asked.

“No. Just stiff. I could use a little exercise.”

“Then come upstairs with me to see Pearl.”

“Oh, I see. You want to watch Zoë throw me out of here, right?”

She didn’t bother to reply, but headed for the stairs, so, keeping a ready eye out for Zoë, I followed. Making straight for Solly’s—Bella’s—bedroom, she opened it and stepped in quietly.

Pearl stood brooding before the window that overlooked the front yard.

“Hi, girls,” she said without turning around. “What took you so long to come up?” She must have seen our car sitting in the drive.

“Zoë told us you were resting,” I said.

Mrs. Risk went to the window and, putting her arm around Pearl’s broad shoulders, gave them a squeeze.

“What’s new?” asked Pearl, morosely.

“Well, Rachel’s discovering that people over the age of fifty still have that old devil stirring in their loins,” said Mrs. Risk.

Pearl turned around and laughed. “No. And who opened your eyes for you, Rachel?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t have needed Zoë to tell me if I’d thought about it,” I said loftily.

“Oh, I’m sure.” A grin lingered on Pearl’s face. “You heard about Sadie, didn’t you? After her husband passed away, she kept his ashes in a tall decorative urn on the mantelpiece. Once a week she’d lift down the jar and blow the dust off the lid. All their married life he’d begged and begged for blow jobs. She’d promised she’d do it but only over his dead body.”

“Uh, huh,” I muttered.

“Maybe you’ll like this one better. Henny Youngman’s joke: An elderly couple went to the doctor. The man says, ‘We want to know if we’re making love the right way. Would you look at us?’ The doc says, sure, so they make love on his examining table. The doc says, ‘You’re making love perfectly. That’ll be fifty dollars.’

“They come back six weeks in a row and do the same thing. The seventh visit, the doc said, ‘Why do you keep coming back? I already said you’re making love properly.’ The man says, ‘She can’t come to my house and I can’t go to her house. A motel would charge us eighty bucks, but you only charge us fifty and we get thirty back from Medicare.’

Mrs. Risk laughed. “It’s nice to see you flexing your muscles, Pearl.”

“Going to stick around all day?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.

“I want to. People will be showing up again about five to make a minyan. Besides, I feel funny about leaving Bella alone in this big house. She keeps telling me to go, but I keep hanging around,” she looked wistful. “Like some big old bone nobody wants.”