Thicker than Water (15 page)

By this point, Rudy had come into the living room, and my mother-in-law came stumbling out of the bathroom, with her hair in curlers and cold cream plastered on her face. I hadn't realized until that moment that Mrs. O'Shea had no eyebrows. Even that freak of nature could not distract me from Helen and what had just transpired.

“You cannot expect to be in your position,” Helen said, “and not have to endure a few personal digs.”

“I agree,” I said.

“What happened tonight was way over the top,” Stephanie said.

“You've taken more abuse from the mayor and not reacted like this,” Helen said.

“The mayor has never claimed to be my friend. He has declared himself my enemy from the get-go. You and half those people in that room are my friends, and the other half are far from what I would call my enemies. At least that's what I thought. What happened, Helen?”

She shrugged. “People…”

“People what?”

“Want what they want,” Helen said.

“You could have stuck up for me, Helen. I'm crushed.”

“Because I ran against you?”

I stepped up close to her then. “It's not the presidency, Helen. That is not the issue. The real issue here is the Gaheimer House and the historical society in general. There's a reason Sylvia was in charge of everything, Helen. It's because she founded it, she supplied everything for it. She worked her ass off for it! Now, I don't care if I'm president or not. What I do care about is the gall of the people in that room thinking that they can move
my
—yes, that's right—
my
collections to a different location. And cut the Gaheimer House out completely, which is what it's all founded on in the first place. And totally discount all my hard work and dedication. Anyway, you can't move the historical society, because like it or not, it all belongs to me! People were ready to just take my things and run. Did anybody even think about what that sounded like? ‘Oh, we don't want you to have any part of the historical society, Torie. But we still want to use all of your things.'”

“Torie, that's not true,” Helen said.

“Yes it is,” Stephanie said. “I was sitting there, I heard every word. That is exactly what some of the people were suggesting.”

“New Kassel has a historical society because Sylvia gave it one,” I said.

“Maybe we should continue this discussion during daylight hours,” Mrs. O'Shea said from behind me. “You'll wake the children.”

“I tell you what, Helen. You go right on back to the meeting and you tell them that I've decided to withdraw my nomination.
And
my things. You guys just found your own little historical society. Without my help. Without my collections. Without my monetary gifts. Okay?” As soon as I said it, I knew I'd said too much. Tomorrow I would feel different, and I might have just burned a bridge. But what happened at the meeting was so bitter that it burned my heart.

“Torie, you don't mean that. Eleanore is just being a brat,” she said.

“It wasn't only Eleanore speaking in there, Helen,” I said.

“Torie, I was not one of them. You know I wouldn't do that to you,” she said.

“No, you remained perfectly quiet throughout the whole thing,” I said.

Helen backed away from me and lifted her hands in defeat. “All right,” she said. “Have it your way.”

Once Helen was out the door I let out a very muffled scream. In other words, I screamed without opening my mouth. Stephanie came over then and gave me a hug.

“What the hell happened tonight?” Rudy asked.

“You heard her,” Stephanie said. “They ganged up on her and started accusing her of things. It was terrible.”

“Well, obviously not everybody ganged up on you, or you wouldn't have won,” Mrs. O'Shea said.

“Nice to know I still have some friends,” I said.

“You didn't really mean what you said?” Rudy asked. “You're declining to serve and all of that?”

“I meant every word,” I said. Then I remembered. I turned to Stephanie. “How did you do? Did you win?”

“Actually, I did. By one vote,” she said. “I am now the corresponding secretary of the possibly defunct historical society of New Kassel, Missouri.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Ahh, it's all right.”

The phone rang then. Rudy answered it. “It's your mother.”

“She's heard,” I said.

“Really,” Mrs. O'Shea said, rolling her eyes. She pulled her robe closed and turned to walk back to her room. “This town is abominable.”

I made a face at the back of her head and plopped down in the recliner. “I don't want to talk to her,” I said to Rudy, who was waiting patiently with the telephone in his hand. “Tell her I'll call her in the morning.”

“All right,” Rudy said and shrugged.

“I'm going to go,” Stephanie said. “I've got a doctor's visit early in the morning.”

“All right,” I said. “Thanks for everything.”

“Sure thing,” she said. “I locked up and set the alarm for you.”

“Oh, good,” I said. I had totally forgotten.

As she left, Rudy walked into the living room and sat down on the piano bench on the other side of the room. Fritz ran up and scratched at my legs. He wanted up on the couch but was far too short-legged to get himself there without help. I picked him up and began petting him.

“You … Torie … I … This is too surreal,” Rudy said.

“Tell me about it,” I said. “I couldn't believe it, Rudy. I could not believe the venom.”

“No, I mean, you can't give up the historical society.”

“Watch me.”

“Torie, this is all you know!”

“Maybe I'll learn something new. Isn't that what Collette is always after me to do? And your mother? They'll be happy.”

“But it's who you are,” he said.

“Well, people change.”

“Sylvia would not be happy to know that she willed you everything and now you're just going to … to … what exactly?”

“I don't want to talk about it, Rudy. I just want to be left alone. I need to calm down.”

After a long pause he finally raised his hands and said, “Fine.” With that he walked out of the room. As I heard his steps on the staircase, I nestled Fritz even closer and reached for the television remote control.

Nineteen

I took my mother out to brunch the next day at Pierre's Bakery. I couldn't tell if the stares and gawking that we were having to endure were real or imagined. The town was used to seeing my mother out and about, so it wasn't like when we went to St. Louis and people tripped over themselves looking at the lady in the wheelchair. Either the unusual attention that the two of us were getting was my imagination or the entire town had heard what transpired last night. I was betting on the last one.

“I'm just saying that you should take more time to consider what you're doing,” Mom said. “What will you do?”

“Well, I'm thinking about going back to school. Maybe I could get a teaching job like Stephanie.”

“You hate children.”

“I do not hate children. I have three of my own and adore the ground they walk on!”

“Okay, you hate other people's children.”

“Well … okay, maybe.”

“So teaching probably wouldn't be a good job.”

“Maybe I could get a research job. Like at a university.”

“Oh, they're just handing those jobs out left and right.”

“I don't really need to get a job, Mom. I have more money than I ever thought I would have, and I have an income from the rental properties that surpasses anything Rudy brings home. Maybe I'll just do some volunteer work,” I said and took a bite of my pastry. “Hey, maybe I'll do nothing.”

“You'd die within a week.”

I shrugged. “I don't hate other people's children. Just the ones that think they're the boss. Well, and not even those, because then I'd have to hate my own daughter.”

“I'm really sorry about last night,” Mom said.

“Eh, don't worry about it,” I said.

Colin stepped into the bakery then, clanking the cowbell on the door as he came through. He pulled up a chair, leaned over and kissed my mother, and then said, “Did you get me anything?”

I handed him a white paper bag. He opened it and smiled. “Well, Torie, I think I've struck out on the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“I've been going through all of the pictures taken at the Strawberry Festival, including the ones from your camera. I can't get a clear shot of the perp who attacked you. We do have some skin and fibers from the wig we found discarded, but with nothing to compare them to, they're kind of useless.”

“We have to have a suspect first,” I said.

“Right.”

I took a drink of my tea and glanced around the room.

“I heard about last night,” he said. “Angry mob.”

“It was … You know, I don't care. Really, there are starving people in the world, people who have land mines in their front yards, people who have dirt for floors. Who really gives a crap what happens to some dinky little historical society in some podunk depressed town?”

“Podunk?” Colin asked.

“Depressed?” Mom asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe Mrs. O'Shea is right. Maybe Rudy and I should move up to St. Louis County. You know, back to civilization.”

“Oh, my God, it's worse than I thought,” Mom said.

“What?”

“You're agreeing with your mother-in-law. Do you hear yourself?”

“I'm only saying that it's really pretty trivial. All of it.”

Just then Sally Huber made her way to our table. I now owned Sally's house. “Hi,” she said.

I sat up straighter and wiped my mouth. “Hello, Sally.”

“I hate to interrupt,” she said and waved at my mother and Colin.

“No, go ahead,” I said.

“Um … I was wondering if you could have Rudy come over and check the leak in the basement.”

“Sure,” I said. “Tonight when he gets in.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Well, you all have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

My mother was staring at me when I finished my tea. “What?”

I wasn't sure exactly what she was thinking, but clearly something had upset her. “Nothing,” she said. As much as I hate it when parents do that, I'm just as guilty of it, so there wasn't a whole lot I could say about her saying, “Nothing.”

“Are you going to work today?” Colin asked, eyeing the two of us suspiciously.

“Yeah,” I said. “Regardless of what happens, I still need to finish going through Sylvia's things.”

“How's that going?” Mom asked.

“Pretty good,” I said. “A little sad.”

“Are you going to keep any of her things for yourself?”

“A few things. Some personal things. Like her and Wilma's baby shoes, and most of her photographs. A few pieces of jewelry…” I frowned.

“What's wrong?” Mom asked.

“Have either one of you seen Sylvia's ring?”

“What ring?”

“That white gold sapphire ring. She used to wear it on special occasions. I can't find it anywhere,” I said.

“Did you bury it with her?”

“No,” I said. “The only ring she was wearing was the one Hermann Gaheimer gave her. And I buried her with one of her rosaries. I've been looking all over for that ring. I mean, it's not that valuable, but it was my favorite thing of hers, and I wanted to keep it.”

“Why would we have seen it?”

“Because I think I wore it once. I mean, I know I was going to wear it. I can't remember if I actually did. I just thought maybe you guys would remember it,” I said.

“No,” Mom said, “but I'll keep an eye out for it.”

“Hey, any word from your PI?” Colin asked.

“I should hear from him today.” I picked up the tab and looked at it, then put money down to cover it. “Okay,” I said. “Well, the company was wonderful. I'm off to work.”

With that I left the bakery, all eyes watching me as I went. I didn't really care. I walked down to the Gaheimer House, head down, thinking about what I would do today. Stephanie wouldn't be in, and I had quite a few things to try to finish.

Before I knew it, I was at the house and letting myself in. I should finish the bedrooms today. Then the only things left would be Sylvia's office and Wilma's room. Stephanie had already taken care of the kitchen and the bathrooms and quite a few boxes of possessions for me. The first thing I did was grab a Dr Pepper and boot up my computer. I dashed off a few e-mails, including one to Laura James, the genealogist in Iowa, asking if she had any information on the O'Shaughnessy family of Dubuque. I then posted a few items on GenForum. I was still very curious about Millie O'Shaughnessy. Besides, after yesterday's fiasco, finding out who she was would be a welcome distraction.

A few hours later I was upstairs in Sylvia's room, packing up the last of her things. There were several boxes for charity and a single box of possessions for me to take home and keep. Among the items in that box was a scarf that Sylvia always wore, a sheer emerald green that glistened when the light hit it. I had also kept a few sets of her hair clips, a few pieces of jewelry, her hairbrush set, her sewing basket, and her baby shoes. Now I just had Wilma's things to go through. When Wilma died, Sylvia shut the door to her sister's room and never entered it again. Wilma's things wouldn't be as tough for me, though. She'd been dead longer, and Wilma had meant something entirely different to me than Sylvia had.

There was a buzz at the door, and I went downstairs to answer it. “Elmer,” I said, opening the door wide. “Come in.”

“I just came by to say how sorry I was about last night,” he said as he stepped across the threshold.