Gracie's Game: Sudden Anger, Accidentally on Purpose (51 page)

"She's not Catholic," Cheryl sniped.

Kelly grinned at her. "Same thing, whatever you want to call it. We're there to remember her life."

"I've never seen so many people crying in my life!" Shawna remarked after the four of them were safely seated in Kelly's car and driving away from the pizza parlor.

"Didn't stop 'em from eating," Cheryl commented.

"They acted like it was some kind of
sin
to be laughing," Shawna said.

"That's really kinda normal," Gracie said. "I felt that way after my father died. You feel
so
sad and also you think everyone
expects
you to be sad. But part of remembering someone is thinking about the good times; it helps you accept the loss, knowing you'll always have the happy memories. But you do feel guilty about it at first."

"Most of those kids didn't even know Meaghan all that well," Shawna continued as if Gracie hadn't spoken. "Why would they cry over her now?"

"Maybe because they were scared and didn't know what else to do," Kelly suggested.

"Scared?" Shawna asked.

"My dad calls it feeling bullet-proof," Kelly explained. "He accuses me of that all the time. He says we're young and haven't seen all the really
bad
things that can happen so we're not scared of anything. But now we've all seen someone we know die, and it's scary thinking it could happen to us."

"That, and they're all thinking of all the mean things they ever said to her, or about her," Cheryl said. "They're telling themselves they wouldn't have done that if they'd only known she was going to die."

"You think they're afraid of Divine retribution?" Kelly asked, jokingly.

"I think Amy is," Cheryl said seriously. "I think she must've told everyone there just how terribly sorry she is."

"She probably really
is
sorry," Shawna said. "Did you see how white she turned when she was asked to take the card to the Pruitts? She was bawling about how she couldn't
possibly
face them, positively freaked-out about it."

"
I
wouldn't want to have to face them either, if I were in her shoes," Gracie said.

"So naturally you jump up and volunteer to deliver the card yourself," Cheryl accused.

"I'm not in Amy's shoes!" Gracie retorted. "Besides, it was a lovely gesture; everyone signed the card and I'm sure her parents will be touched to have it."

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "All of Meaghan's
dear
friends," she quoted in parody of Mrs. Pruitt.

"Okay, maybe she goes a little overboard," Gracie said. "But she means well. We don't have to stay long."

Chapter 45

When the group arrived at the Pruitt's house they found it overflowing with mourners. They were mostly women, and they all looked alike, dressed in their Sunday best as if it were important that they get all dolled up for the occasion. Cynthia Pruitt was hunched into a large armchair, sobbing hopelessly. A coffee table had been pulled up to the chair, its surface covered with pictures of Meaghan from birth to present. Steve Pruitt was nowhere to be seen.

The other women wouldn't let Gracie and her friends close to Mrs. Pruitt, as if they feared the young people would upset her.
Which is probably true,
Gracie thought. The women led them to the dining room where the table was laid out with all kinds of casseroles, sandwich-makings, and desserts. An industrial-sized coffee urn bubbled softly at one end. When they protested that they'd already eaten, the guardian-women insisted they have a slice of pie. Gracie, who could usually eat at any time of day, found she had no appetite under the circumstances. She could hear muted bass laughter from a room at the back of the house; the menfolk must have congregated in a den, or someplace away from all the hovering too-helpful women.

Gracie picked at her pie and wondered what to do. No one said anything as they ate. Shawna looked properly respectful, but Cheryl was starting to fidget and Kelly looked downright bored. Having noticed that her friends' plates were empty she suddenly stood up and dumped her half-eaten pie into the trashcan.

"Thank you so much for the pie," she told one of the women. "It's so very kind of you to help like this." Privately she felt her smile was obviously saccharine, but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"The good Lord put us on this Earth to help each other in time of need," the woman twittered. "And He surely knows this family needs help right now. Thank you all so much for coming."

Gracie recognized a dismissal when she heard one, but didn't let it faze her. "Of course. Now, I'll just pop in to say a few words to Mrs. Pruitt, and then we'll leave."

She turned on her heel and began striding purposefully toward the living room with the church-lady following in her wake, protesting that Cynthia mustn't be disturbed. Gracie ignored her and so did Shawna, Cheryl, and Kelly. Gently she pushed her way between two women so she could get close to Cynthia's chair. The other three hung back.

"Mrs. Pruitt, I'm Gracie Greene. We met…the other night." Inwardly she winced at the hesitation and what it implied, but Cynthia didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, Dear, I do seem to remember you." She closed her eyes briefly and fresh tears ran down her face.

Impulsively Gracie reached out and took Cynthia's hand, squeezing it with the strength of emotion and compassion. "I'm so very sorry about Meaghan," she said, and felt tears of her own forming.

"Thank you," Cynthia said in a hoarse voice as she extricated her hand to reach for a fresh tissue.

Gracie sniffled, and pulled the card from her purse, handed it to Cynthia. "All of her friends at school will miss her greatly, and we wanted you to know how much she meant to us."

Cynthia opened the card and looked at all the scrawled signatures and sentiments. A hush settled over the room as if everyone were afraid of the woman's possible reaction. Though she dabbed at another tear trickling down her cheek, Cynthia smiled. "It warms my heart to know so many young people cared about Meaghan." She slipped the card into her Bible. "I'm going to keep this right here, so I can look at it anytime and know how blessed she was to have such good friends. She never did like that car, you know; she was talking about selling it."

"Yes, I know," Gracie muttered, unsure quite how to respond.

"It's so easy to think that if she had sold it none of this would've happened," Cynthia went on. "But of course that's silly. It wasn't the car's fault."

"No, Ma'am," Gracie said.

"You know, it was the funniest thing," Cynthia said. Her voice quavered a bit and her eyes had a faraway look; in her grief she'd come to the stage of rambling about whatever stray thought relating to her daughter came to mind. "That morning I thought I'd lost her extra key. To the car; I kept it on one of those valet things, you know, that you can detach easily. That way if she lost hers, or locked herself out, then she could come get the duplicate."

Gracie nodded, though she had no idea why Cynthia was saying this. She did, however, understand what 'that' day meant; Friday morning. She glanced behind her to appeal to her friends for help but they just shrugged, as puzzled as Gracie was.

Cynthia shrugged her shoulders and smiled wanly at her own failing. "But I must've just overlooked it somehow, because the next day when Barbara took me home there it was on my key ring when I unlocked the front door."

"That's good," Gracie said, unable to think of any other comment.

One of the women bustled up with a fresh cup of coffee for Cynthia. "So nice of you to come, and please tell Meaghan's friends that the card was much appreciated." The look in her eyes said she meant business, and that business was to get rid of Gracie and company.

"Yes, please thank them for Steve and myself. Tell them I'll keep them all in my prayers," Cynthia said.

"I'll do that, Mrs. Pruitt," Gracie said, patting Cynthia's hand. "I'll keep you and your husband in my prayers, too."

Gracie walked away, her friends following silently. At the front door she addressed one of the women. "It looks like the people from the church are doing everything possible to help the Pruitts but if you should need anything, please don't hesitate to call the school and I know Meaghan's friends will be glad to help."

"Thank you, I'll do that," the woman replied, though it was clear to Gracie that she didn't really mean it. "I guess someone should call and let the principal know when the funeral will be, too."

"Please," Gracie said. "A lot of us will be there. I'm sure Mrs. Baker won't say anything if it's during school hours, so just let us know. Thank you for the pie, and good night."

As they walked out they all felt as if they'd escaped from something; they heaved a collective sigh of relief as the door shut behind them. Kelly put his arm around Gracie's waist and pulled her closer as they walked to the car, though he said nothing.

"I feel smothered," Cheryl said once they got in the car. "Roll the windows down a little, Kelly; I can still smell all the cologne those women drenched themselves in!"

"I can't really blame the men for being off by themselves, but you'd think Steve would want to be with his wife," Kelly said.

Gracie reached over to lay her hand on his arm. "That's because you're a good guy; you'd want to be with your wife at a time like that."

He patted her hand briefly before returning his attention to driving. "And I'd want her to be there with me."

"Enough of this mushy stuff!" Cheryl quipped. "I felt a lot of obligation in that house, but not a lot of love."

"Those ladies wouldn't have been there if they didn't care for the Pruitts," Shawna said. "Besides, I don't think there's really anything they
could
do to take away their pain right now."

"I wasn't talking about the Sunday School class," Cheryl retorted. "Hey, did you notice that Cynthia was wearing Meaghan's purity ring on a chain around her neck?"

"Yeah, I did," Shawna said. "You'd think she'd throw it away or something."

"I think that's why they made up the idea that she'd been raped," Gracie said. "That way the purity ring – and its underlying promise – still counted because rape implies it was against her will."

"I think you're right. She's the kind who'd deny the truth of something just because it didn't fit in with her beliefs," Cheryl said.

"I can sort of see why Meaghan did it, though," Shawna reflected.

"Sure," Kelly agreed. "Her dad's a work-a-holic who buys her
things
instead of spending time with her, and her mother's too busy with bake sales, fellowship dinners, and committee meetings to pay much attention to her."

"Kelly! You're certainly showing your sensitive side tonight," Cheryl teased.

"He's right, though," Gracie said. "She wanted attention so badly she'd do anything to get it. It looks like she picked the wrong guy, always assuming we're right that it's Jake. But I just can't believe he'd kill her because she was pregnant."

Wednesday morning Gracie and Shawna stood on the steps waiting for Cheryl and Kelly. The plan was to take a long stroll through the parking lot and hope that Jake had gone to lunch with someone and left his truck there; they wanted to see if it could possibly have been the vehicle that hit both Madison's and Emily's cars.

"What's taking them so long?" Shawna wanted to know.

"Cheryl probably had to clean up after Home Ec., but I don't know where Kelly is. Maybe he had to make a pit stop," Gracie said.

Shawna stuck her arm up to be seen better above the crowd and waved. "There she is, walking with Andrea. Cheryl! Over here!"

Cheryl and Andrea joined them. "We made tuna casserole today, it was
gross
," Andrea said.

"Yeah," Cheryl agreed. "I don't think
anyone
ate more than a couple of bites. I'm sure glad we're going out to lunch today."

Shawna flicked her eyes toward Andrea, obviously thinking that the polite thing to do would be to invite her to go with them. Any other day they might have. If they hadn't intended to do a little snooping they might have used the opportunity to talk to her about the cyanide, hoping she might give them some clue that fit in with their theory.

"You're waiting for Kelly, aren't you?" Andrea asked. At their nod she continued. "That's okay, I'm going to lunch with Jennifer. She doesn't want to eat in the cafeteria."

"Who does?" Shawna asked facetiously.

"I know, right? But you know how prissy she is, she doesn't want anyone to see the band-aid on her hand. It's the wrong color to go with her outfit," Andrea said.

"Band-aid?" Gracie asked. "What happened?"

"She wasn't paying attention in the chem. lab this morning," Andrea replied. "Apparently she'd spilled some acid on the counter and then stuck her hand in it and got burned. It's just a little spot, but she said it stung like crazy. Hey! There's Kelly over there, talking to Bobby." She pointed off to her right.

Gracie looked that direction and gave a little wave; Kelly began inching her direction while Bobby continued to talk to him.

"What period does she have chemistry?" Cheryl asked.

"1st hour," Andrea said. "She swears she didn't spill the stuff, but then she
would
say that." Andrea chuckled. "I think she's worried it'll leave a scar."

Kelly walked up and said, "Who's hungry?"

"I am!" Gracie and Cheryl replied in unison.

"You guys enjoy," Andrea said.

"You too," Cheryl said as they headed to the parking lot.

"Sorry I'm late, Bobby was bending my ear," Kelly said as they walked.

"Going on about that stupid Mustang I bet," Cheryl said.

"No, he's worried about Amy."

"I imagine so. She must feel really guilty about the wreck," Gracie said. She pointedly looked around at all their fellow students heading out to lunch. "There could be severe consequences."

"Yeah. But Bobby didn't say anything about that. He said he found her sitting on the steps when he got to school this morning. Apparently she'd had some kind of fight with her parents and didn't know where else to go."

"Maybe her mom found out she'd taken the pills," Cheryl said.