Fran Rizer - Callie Parrish 05 - Mother Hubbard Has a Corpse in the Cupboard (7 page)

Otis didn’t answer because right then, Miss Gorman came through the door carrying a large garment bag, puffed out with what must have been a lot of clothes. He might not have answered anyway—Otis can’t stand whining.

“Good morning, Miss Gorman,” he said. “This is Miss Parrish, who dresses our ladies for us. She’ll be taking care of your sister just as you requested.”

“I remember you,” Miss Gorman said to me in a sweet old-lady voice with a drawl. “You were at Molly’s shower. Her husband Bill is your brother.” The lady was the epitome of an elderly lady of the South with her sturdy lace-up shoes and crocheted shawl wrapped around a mint green sweater set that matched her wool slacks. I hadn’t been even slightly cool outside, but Maum always says, “Old bones are cold bones,” so I supposed Miss Gorman might have felt a chill in the air.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “I see you’ve brought more than one outfit. Let’s go in here and take a look.”

I guided her into the first consultation room.

Glad Otis had told me Nina was the one who died, I wondered what happened to the pastel shades of hair the twins had worn at the shower. One of them had a slight blue rinse on her hair; the other, a light lavender. Today, Miss Nila Gorman’s hair was snow white, no way to tell which twin she was. I couldn’t remember who had been lavender and who was blue anyway.

“I’m going to leave you ladies to discuss the details, but you call me if you need me,” Otis said and left the room.

Miss Gorman sat in one of the burgundy velvet overstuffed chairs at the round mahogany table and opened the zippered bag. She laid two identical pink dresses and two identical beige skirt suits across the table, and then she set two pairs of low-heeled pink shoes and two pairs of taupe on the table beside the dresses.

My first thought was the woman wasn’t quite sure which size her sister would need, but they all appeared to be the same size. Beside the shoes, she placed two ziplock bags.

“The tan is for Nina to wear tonight for the visitation,” she said, “and the pink is her funeral dress for tomorrow.”

I sat silent for a moment. Since I’d come to work for the Middletons, I’d never had anyone want me to change the body’s clothes between the visitation and the service, but I could certainly do it for her. Our goal at Middleton’s is to make the customer as happy as possible under the difficult circumstances of their loss.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. I touched one pair of the taupe shoes. “And she’s to wear these shoes tonight?” I asked.

“Now what do you think?” I had obviously annoyed the woman. “Nina’s to wear beige this evening with the pearl earrings and necklace. She wouldn’t wear the pink shoes with that.” She patted one of the ziplock bags. “Tomorrow, Nina’s to wear pink with the diamond earrings and pendant.” She lifted the plastic bag and held it toward me. “Do be very careful with these because they are real pearls and the diamonds aren’t CZ. They’re genuine, too. I’ve put a picture in here that shows how I want her hair done for each occasion.”

“So, you’re saying that her hair will be different tonight and tomorrow?”

“You can do that, can’t you?”

“Certainly, but you might want to check with the Middletons. There may be an extra charge for a second hair style.”

“That’s between the men and me. This is lady-talk. Until a few years ago, Nina and I dressed alike and always looked the same. A while back, she got the idea we needed to express our individualism. That’s when we started putting those ridiculous rinses on our hair and buying clothes of different colors. I want us to go out of this world the way we came in—identical.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that.”

“How can you understand? You don’t have a twin. I understand you’re the only girl in Bill’s family.” A sweet lady, but she seemed easy to irritate. But then, her sister had died. Not just a sister, but an identical twin.

“Yes, ma’am. I meant I understand your wishes, not that I have a twin.”

“Now, here’s the important part. I’m of an age where a lot of my friends are dying. Some of them have been buried by Middleton’s and some by other funeral homes. It looks to me like some of those places just paint everyone’s face to look the same. I haven’t noticed that when I’ve been here. You seem to make bodies look nice and natural.”

I beamed. “Thank you, Miss Gorman. I take my work very seriously and do the best I can for every family.”

“I need to know if you’re licensed to work on living people also or just dead ones.”

“My South Carolina Cosmetology License authorizes me to perform services for both.”

“Good! I’ll be back here at four this afternoon. You’re to have my sister ready for tonight, so that you’ll have time to do my hair and makeup exactly like hers. I’ll come in tomorrow morning between ten and eleven for you to do the same thing before the service.”

She smiled. I sat, too stunned to speak.

“Do you understand?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You look confused. Can you do this?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you understand that the duplicate clothes are for me to put on after you do my hair and makeup?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you? You’re not challenged, are you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Thank the Lord you can say something besides ‘yes, ma’am.’” She stood. “Now, you take good care of those bags. The jewelry is valuable and so are the photographs.” She paused. “I put Nina’s undergarments in the bottom of the garment bag.” She glanced at it. “I saw Mr. Odell Middleton yesterday and Mr. Otis Middleton this morning. I’d heard they’re identical twins, but that must be some mistake. They don’t look alike.”

I explained about the differences in their habits.

“So the difference is because of their life styles,” Miss Gorman said. “That’s one reason it never bothered me that neither Nina nor I ever wed. If one of us had married, had children, or lived somewhere else, it would probably have changed one of us, but not both. I always liked that we lived together our whole lives and stayed together like the Good Lord intended.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I acknowledged.

After I walked Nila Gorman to the door and closed it behind her to the tune of “Rock of Ages,” I called Otis to come up to the conference room. We carried everything down to my work room.

“Did you know what she wanted?” I asked.

“Yes, but I thought it best to let her explain to you.”

“Is the body prepped?” I asked him.

“Odell stayed and took care of her last night. She’s ready for you now or you can go to the hospital to see Mrs. Profit so long as you’re back in time to finish with Miss Nina before Miss Nila comes back.”

“Are there any more clients here today?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I’ll be back right after lunch to get started.”

• • •

When I entered Maum’s room, Dr. Redmond, the heart doctor, stood on one side of her bed and Rizzie on the other. “Her heart is responding to the treatment. If everything continues as it is, we’ll know about the hip surgery within a day or two.”

“But what happens if she doesn’t get well enough for the surgery?” Rizzie looked calm, but her voice had a frantic edge.

The doctor reached across the bed and patted Rizzie’s hand. “Now, let’s not cross that bridge until we come to it. I’m hoping and expecting your grandmother’s heart to respond well enough for Dr. Midlands to replace that hip soon.” He smiled and withdrew his hand. “Any questions?”

“No, not right now,” Rizzie answered. The doctor left the room, and Rizzie turned to me.

“Did you bring me anything to eat?”

“By the time I left Middleton’s, the short order places had stopped serving biscuits. I brought you a chicken sandwich, a cup of carrot salad, and a Coke from Chick-fil-A.” I held the bag out toward her. Rizzie opened it as she sat down in the bedside chair. I remained standing by Maum and began stroking her arm above where the IV was inserted.

“Did you get any rest?” I asked Rizzie.

“This chair opens out to a recliner, so I tried to lie down, but I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I opened them again to be sure Maum was breathing.” She took a bite of the sandwich.

“Too bad she doesn’t snore,” I commented. We both laughed.

“Everything go okay with Ty?” Rizzie talked and chewed carrots at the same time.

“Fine. I gave him lunch money for the week.”

“What?” Rizzie hit the ceiling. “Did he ask you for lunch money?”

“No, but I remembered when I was in school, we paid by the week.”

“That boy’s double-dipping. Your money went in his pocket. I’ll make him give it back to you. I paid for his lunches for a month by check only last week. I have to do that to be sure he’s got food available at school. Otherwise, if I give him cash, he’ll spend the money on something else and go hungry.” She finished the salad. “I pay him well for the time he works at the restaurant, but teenagers have so many wants these days. He’s a good kid, but I don’t manage him as well as Maum does. Like the double-dipping, he tries to get things over on me, and since he started going to school in St. Mary, I think he resents having to live on the island.”

“Boys his age are always a little nutty,” I said.

Rizzie laughed, “That’s exactly what’s wrong with them.”

Maum opened her eyes and moaned softly. Rizzie jumped up and pressed the call button. I leaned over Maum and spoke softly, “You’re in the hospital. Rizzie and the nurses are taking care of you to get you well.”

“Hurt,” Maum whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Cold,” she added.

Rizzie tucked the blankets around Maum’s chin and said, “She needs something for pain,” to the nurse who came through the door at that moment.

“It’s fifteen minutes before she gets anything,” the new nurse said, making me wish we still had that nice Kathleen. “Maybe I can make her more comfortable until then.” She leaned over, lifted Maum’s head slightly, and fluffed the pillow. “I’ll get her another blanket, too.”

Rizzie’s voice rose. “Another blanket and her pillow aren’t going to make her feel any better. Her hip is broken and it hurts. Last night, you people gave her so much medicine that she almost died. Are you telling me that today you can’t even keep her comfortable?”

“Mrs. Profit didn’t almost die last night. It’s hard to determine dosage with elderly patients. That’s why we watch them so carefully. We were aware when she became unresponsive, and we took care of it.”

Rizzie stepped toward the nurse, and for a moment, I thought she was going to hit her. Rizzie is long-legged and tall. The nurse was short and petite. I moved closer to my friend and put my hand on her arm. “Rizzie, the nurse can’t decide how much medicine Maum gets or how often. Last night, it was too high. This morning, it’s too low. All the nurse can do is call the doctor to see if they can adjust Maum’s pain meds.”

I’m sure the nurse had been startled by Rizzie’s size and the threat in her voice, or she would have suggested something herself. She seemed relieved to hurry from the room while assuring us, “I’ll call Mrs. Profit’s doctor.”

Rizzie burst into tears as Maum opened her eyes. “Don’t cry, Teresa,” the grandmother said. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember? You fell late yesterday afternoon at the restaurant. Now you’re at Healing Heart Medical Center.

Maum looked up at me and held up her left hand. She spread her fingers out as much as the wrist brace allowed. “I need my nails done, Callie.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll give you a manicure and a pedicure as soon as your hip is repaired, but before then, I’ll trim and buff your nails.” I knew the hospital wouldn’t want her nails painted bright red during her surgery—something to do with anesthetic. Unlike Rizzie, I was confident the doctors wouldn’t just leave Maum with a broken hip. I don’t know what I thought they would do if her heart didn’t respond to the treatment—maybe put in a pacemaker—but I didn’t think they’d just let an elderly lady lie in bed with a broken hip.

Her dark brown, almost black, eyes widened, and Maum asked, “What do you mean ‘repair’ my hip? Is that why it hurts so bad?”

I left that for Rizzie to answer. It hadn’t occurred to me that Maum wouldn’t be aware of the break.

“Maum,” Rizzie said, “the doctors think you fell because your heart wasn’t beating regularly. They’ve started you on treatment to make it right, but the X-ray shows your hip and wrist are broken. The brace will be okay for your arm, but you need surgery for your hip.”

“I’ve never been in a hospital before.” I hadn’t thought about that, but Maum had spent her whole life on Surcie Island until Rizzie needed her at Gastric Gullah. “I had my babies at the house,” she continued, “and the home remedies helped me when I was sick. I don’t think I want anyone cutting on me.”

The few tears she’d been shedding multiplied into a waterfall, and I have no idea what Rizzie would have said if the nurse hadn’t come in at that moment with a liquid-filled hypodermic.

“On a scale of one to ten,” she asked, “how would you rate your pain?”

Maum looked at her like the question was outrageous. “It hurts,” she said. “It hurts.”