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Authors: Phyllis Smallman

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BOOK: 1 Margarita Nights
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A line of black limos stood at the curb and the parking lot was full of very expensive metal so Evan abandoned his car on the grass verge along the driveway at three minutes to ten.

The Jacaranda Unitarian Church on Pine Street was where Jimmy and I had been married at his parents’ insistence. Perhaps they thought an official white wedding would make me into the daughter-in-law they wanted or perhaps they hoped that the traditional ceremony could keep our marriage from turning into the train wreck they knew it would be. In any case, I hadn’t been back since that Saturday in June and it felt like coming full circle walking up to the door, shaking with apprehension and dread, to say goodbye to Jimmy.

I wanted to slip into the very back pew but Ruth Ann wouldn’t have it. Grasping my arm in a death grip, she clicked down the aisle with tiny little steps and unless I wanted to cause a scene, I had no choice but to go where she dragged me. In the front pew the Travis family clung to each other and all the pews behind them were full, something Ruth Ann had failed to take into consideration.

Ruth Ann and I huddled together in the aisle staring at the out-of-town relatives and family friends. They stared back. I begged the floor to open up and swallow me. When it didn’t happen, I tugged at Ruth Ann, trying to drag her back to the rear of the church.

“Sherri,” Cordelia whispered and slid sideways, forcing the rest of the people in the pew to squeeze together and make room for us.

The rustle of bodies caused the witch to turn around. Eyes flashing with hate and malice, she would have cursed me but for Mr. Travis putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right, Bernice.” He turned her back to the front.

Still, the whole congregation heard her say, “I don’t want her here.”

Face flaming, I slipped in next to Cordelia with Ruth Ann right behind me. Cordelia took my hand and I clung to it like a life preserver.

After the service the minister asked everyone back to the Royal Palms for refreshment. Somehow I was sure the invitation didn’t include Ruth Ann and me, but knowing Ruth Ann she was going to insist on making an appearance. What a perfect way to end this lovely social event.

 

The minister stood at the door shaking hands with the mourners as they left. As he shook my hand he leaned over to kiss my cheek, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Sherri.” “Thank you, Noble.” I answered.

Cordelia slipped past me and went to stand beside her husband.

I kissed her cheek as well. “Thank you, Cordelia.”

Evan showed up and took my arm. Smart man that he is, he must have been hiding out at the back of the church. “Will you go to the Royal Palms?” I asked. His face screwed up with distaste. “Why?” “I don’t know, except I really want to know what happens there. Talk to everyone and see if there’s any hint Jimmy might be pulling a fast one. I keep asking myself who was on the
Suncoaster
? And where’s Jimmy?” “But Jimmy’s dead, isn’t he?”

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe not.”

He stared at me in astonishment and then shot off to tell Noble. Marley took Evan’s place. I asked her to go to the Royal Palms as well.

“I can’t promise to keep my hands off Bernice’s throat. She only has to make one little comment and there’ll be blood on the floor.”

Six feet away, Dr. Travis supported his grief-stricken wife to a black limo. “No matter what, Jimmy was her only son. She believes he’s dead. I’ll never forgive him for this.”

Then over Marley’s shoulder, I saw Cordelia standing alone, staring at Evan and Noble. The look on her face said she’d finally added two and two up to the right number.

Chapter 42

I touched her arm and Cordelia pivoted to face me but it took her a few seconds to realize who I was, and then her bewildered face formed into a hard mask of anger. “It’s Evan, isn’t it?” she asked.

 

No more lies, no more cover-up. Even if I’d wanted to lie, it wouldn’t have worked. She knew, and once you know, you can’t unknow anything. “Yes,” I replied.

“I’ve been so stupid.”

“Cordelia . . . ,” What could I say except, “This isn’t the place. Come away with me.” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t you think I wanted to?”

“I asked and you didn’t say anything.”

“Would you have believed me? Would it have been any easier?”

She gave a harsh bark of laughter or disgust and then raised her fingers to her lips as if to keep the sound in. Her eyes flew back to her husband. “I can hardly believe I didn’t see it before.” She turned back to me and her lips hardened into bitter lines of self-loathing. “It’s so obvious. It wasn’t you he wanted to be with, it was Evan.”

She started to move away from me. I put out a hand to stop her. “Please,” I begged. “Please forgive me.” I took a deep breath, determine to keep my cool. “I don’t want to lose you.” I dug my nails into my palms. If I started to cry I wasn’t sure I could ever stop.

She reached out to cover my hand with her own. “I’ll call you.”

“Come with me now. This is no place to go into this.”

“Don’t worry I’m not going to make a scene.” She gave a little hiccup of a laugh. “I’m far too well bred for that.” Her hand slid away and I watched her walk towards Noble. As he turned towards her, his smile slid away and his face crumbled into despair. She didn’t say a word. There was no need, he knew it was over.

I was wrong about Ruth Ann. For once she didn’t want to turn the other cheek and kiss ass. I think the reality of my relationship with the Travises had just come to her attention. “They didn’t treat you very well, Sherri.” Even this mild criticism was painful to her.

 

“Why didn’t they ever like you?” She was so earnest I couldn’t laugh.

“I think they had something else in mind for Jimmy.” She looked puzzled. Her scarlet lips bowed down in an unaccustomed frown. “But Jimmy loved you.” For Ruth Ann, love was everything. She believed in romance: lived for it, even sacrificed her children for it. While watching her had molded me into a cynic at a very young age, lately I’d found myself admiring her unfailing tenacity and devotion to hope, hope that survived reality and experience. “You were the one Jimmy wanted. Surely that should have been enough for them.”

She honestly believed that there’s a soulmate out there for everyone. Each new love of her life had her trusting absolutely that this time it would work out . . . this time he wouldn’t cheat on her, or beat on her, or leave her. This time her affair would be the culmination of what all those bodice rippers she devoured told her love should be.

Growing up, I’d never had any idea of what I wanted to be. I only knew what I didn’t want: I didn’t want to be like my mother. My life would be more ordered, more controlled and safe. I guess I pretty much blew that plan when I met Jimmy, no one’s idea of any of those things, and now with Clay . . . well, let’s just say I was batting a hundred.

“Never mind, Mom,” I told her. “Let’s go to the Sunset. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“But they never make you pay there, Sherri.”

“I can’t fool you, can I, Mom?” I tucked my arm through hers and took her along with me to find a ride home. I didn’t think Evan was going to remember he’d brought us to the dance. Right now there were bigger events happening to him.

We didn’t go to the Sunset. Instead, Brian dropped Ruth Ann and me off at my place before he went to the Royal Palms. Ruth Ann came upstairs and I made her a drink, telling her about Jimmy’s tape but editing events so I didn’t scare the hell out of her. I told Ruth Ann about Andy hiding the tape.

 

“I’d like to have it,” I told her, “but all I can get out of Andy is the word
Casablanca
.”

“Why don’t you just rent the movie
Casablanca
? Perhaps you’ll understand what he means when you see the movie.”

“Aren’t you the smartie?” I told her. “And I’ve always considered myself the family brain.”

“That’s all right, dear. You can be the brain. I like to think of myself as the family body.” Her mouth tilted up in an impish beam and for once we spent time together and parted still happy with each other.

Even Tony Bennett’s smooth sound in the background couldn’t sooth my jangled nerves as I started my shift. My body was going through the motions while my brain was on other things. Around five o’clock, Brian and Peter came back to the Sunset. According to them there had been no happy stories of Jimmy at the Royal Palms, just hushed condolences and quickly sipped drinks.

 

“I asked Hayward Lynch if he thought Jimmy was really dead and he almost stroked out,” Brian told me. “After that I was a little more discreet, but as far as I could see, everyone thinks Jimmy went up with the
Suncoaster
. But why would they tell me if they didn’t?” He stared morosely into his drink. Even the smallest thing could make him feel rejected and dejected. His bitch of a wife had really done a number on his self-esteem.

“There’s one thing,” Peter looked warily over the rim of his glass at me. “I heard Bernice tell the minister that the DNA tests to identify the remains have come back. I couldn’t hear what she said about the results or if she even knows them but if they had a service for Jimmy, surely they know he’s dead.”

“But if there’s no body . . .” I still wasn’t ready to give up my belief that Jimmy could defy or trick even death.

Peter’s normal laughing charm gave way to concern. “Maybe you should ask Styles. That way you’ll know for sure if it was Jimmy.” He was telling me that like Ruth Ann I was gifted at denying reality.

Brian knuckled his glasses into place. “Bernice also said that Andy Crown called, looking for Jimmy. That’s it, that’s all I know.”

About nine o’clock, I called the Crowns to tell them where Andy was.

 

“Would you call Steadman and ask him to come out? It’ll have more impact if it comes from you.”

A loud sigh blew down the telephone line and Mrs. Crown said, “We can’t help you. My husband told you we are no longer responsible.”

“I’m not talking about responsibility,” I said, interrupting her. “No one is responsible. I just need all the help I can get.”

“And we’ve given it. We’ve had over ten years of this. You’ve only been with him five minutes and you think you have all the answers—I’m really not impressed.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be a hero. I don’t know the right thing to do. It’s Andy who’s important here, not how you feel about me. I just want to help.”

“What about us? Don’t you think we deserve a little peace?”

“But if you could see him . . . I don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do we . . . that’s the whole point. Please don’t call again.”

I left the bar early. At the Tropicana there was a parking place under the deep shadows of the trees. I hurried to get into it before the car following me into the parking lot took it.

 

The shells crunched under my feet and I was nearly to the steps when I heard the engine rev. Gut instinct and a misspent youth kicked in. I reacted.

Chapter 43

Leaping like a prima ballerina, I sailed into the air, landed momentarily, and then jumped again into the clump of Pampas grass at the bottom of the stairs. The sound of tires digging holes as the car braked and then slammed backwards propelled me forward. I rolled over the railing onto the concrete steps. Landing on my feet and moving, I raced up the stairs without looking to see who was trying to kill me or even if they were coming after me. I just ran.

 

The taillights of the car swerved out of the complex as I pounded on Evan’s door, screaming, “Help, Evan, help,” at the top of my lungs.

BOOK: 1 Margarita Nights
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