The Secret's in the Sauce (16 page)

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Authors: Linda Evans Shepherd

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BOOK: The Secret's in the Sauce
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When I arrived at Lisa Leann’s I saw to my delight that I was pulling in at the same time as Donna and Lizzie. Lizzie looked about as thrilled as Donna and I did. Vonnie’s car was parked next to mine, and I pointed it out to the other girls as I exited my car. “Looks like we’re the last to arrive. Good. The gang’s all here.”

“Good is right.” Donna slammed the door of her Bronco. She gave me a stare and said, “Not that I have any big plans for the night like some people I know, but I don’t necessarily like having my Saturday cut in half.” She looked at Lizzie as we all stepped gingerly onto the snow-shoveled sidewalk. “You look like I feel, Lizzie. What’s up in your world?”

Lizzie waved a leather-gloved hand as though fanning a pesky insect from her face. “Oh, nothing. I just came from seeing Mom. One day she’s as coherent as you and me and the next the Alzheimer’s seems to be taking its toll. Today I saw both sides of the coin within a half hour. I just don’t know how much longer this can go on.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder as we ascended the stairs leading to Lisa Leann’s front door. “There will be times when you think it will never end. But we’re here to help get you through it. Is there anything I can do to help?” With my grip around her shoulder, we’d stopped just one step above Donna and two from the door.

“You can start,” Donna said from behind us, “by escorting her into the shop.”

Lizzie and I turned to look at a scowling Donna. “Hold your horses,” I reprimanded. “Can’t you see our friend is in turmoil?” I looked at Lizzie. “I apologize for my stepdaughter, Lizzie. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”

“For one,” Donna responded, “I’m freezing my back end off out here. For another, nothing has gotten into me lately. I’m happy as a bird, can’t you see?” Then she faked a grin at us, and Lizzie burst into laughter so hard I thought we were going to tumble down the stairs and take Donna with us.

“We’ll talk about this later, Evangeline.” Lizzie took another step to the door, which now opened with Lisa Leann screeching like a parrot.

“What in the world are you doing just standing around out here? Hurry up and let’s get this meeting called to order.”

Oh yes. Let’s.

Lisa Leann nearly had a heart attack when she realized that Vonnie was the only one of us intelligent enough to bring her catering club binder to the meeting. “Ladies, you must bring the binders to every meeting,” she said, sighing like a stiff wind through the pines. “Honestly. How can you possibly take notes if you don’t have your binders?”

We’d all taken off our coats and gotten seated in the parlor, as we’d done in our previous meeting.

“Can you just fill us in on what today’s problem is?” Donna asked from her usual place. “I’m tired, I need a nap, and I have to work tonight so
somebody
”—she cut her eyes at me—“also known as my father, can take a day off to play with somebody else.”

I beamed. “She’s talking about me,” I said, as though they didn’t know.

“Ladies,” Lisa Leann continued. “We have a problem. A very big problem. I received a call from Beverly Jackson. She invited me to lunch in Breck.” For a moment Lisa Leann’s face seemed to flush, I wasn’t sure for what reason. Then she looked at Lizzie. “Over at Mountain Bell Tower Resort, where your children work, I might add.”

Lizzie smiled and Lisa Leann continued.

“Ladies, we have a problem,” she said, leaving me to think, We know this already. “The shower given by the bank employees has been moved from the church to the resort.”

“How is that a problem?” Vonnie asked. Until now, she’d been as silent as a corpse.

“I will tell you,” Lisa Leann said with a sigh, “if you just won’t interrupt me every two seconds.”

Vonnie bustled in her seat, muttering, “Sorry.”

“That’s perfectly all right.” Another deep breath and another sigh. “The problem is that the bank employees have hired an independent bartending service to provide a cash bar at the shower.” She all but glared at Lizzie. “Like you said before, Lizzie, the bank employees are known to drink. And, they want the shower moved to the resort.”

“Oh, dear,” Vonnie said. “I just don’t know if I can go along with this.”

“Come on now, Von,” Donna said, crossing one short leg over the other. “This is no reflection on you. So they want to have a cash bar. So what’s the big deal?”

“When you say ‘to the resort,’” Lizzie began, “do you mean to Mountain Bell Tower Resort where Michelle and Adam and Tim work?”

Lisa Leann blushed again. “Them and one more,” she said, though I have no idea what she meant, nor did I have time to ask because she stomped her little foot and said, “If you will let me finish, I’ll tell you why this is such a problem.” Another deep breath and another sigh. Her shoulders sagged as though under some heavy weight, and she looked dead on at Donna. “Donna,” she began. “Your mother and half sister have started their own independent bartending service.”

We all shifted our eyes to Donna, who paled. “Say that again.”

We shifted again to Lisa Leann, who was now holding up a lavender-colored flyer with “Bar-None” as bold as could be across the top. I reached for it, snatching it from Lisa Leann’s finger grip, and began to read it out loud. “Our service is the best Bar-None,” I read. “We provide a full-service cash bar, open bar, tiki bar . . . oh my . . . blah blah blah . . . Call for a free estimate . . . ask for Velvet or Dee Dee.” I slapped the flyer onto my knee. “How dare they?”

“Give me that.” Donna crossed over to me. I handed her the flyer and watched as she stood over me, reading. Her jaw flexed as her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth. Then she looked at Lisa Leann. “What does this mean? They’re bartending the party?”

“According to Beverly—” Lisa Leann began, but was quickly interrupted as Donna continued.

“I’m going to have to be in the same room with those two?” She looked over at Lizzie. “Michelle’s party is just the beginning.” She walked over to the window overlooking Main Street and Higher Grounds across the street. Her hands rested lightly on her hips, and she bobbed up and down a bit on her heels. “You know why, don’t you?” she finally said, breaking the silence no one else dared break. She turned then and looked at us, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s because of me. They’re trying to get to me.”

“Oh, Donna,” Vonnie said. “You’re crying.”

Donna wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, then raised her hand almost in protest. “No. These aren’t hurt tears, Von. These are tears of anger. Those two make me madder than . . . first the
wedding shower . . . then David . . . now this.”

“David?” Vonnie repeated so quietly that if anyone else had been talking we’d not have heard her.

Donna jerked a bit, looking first at Vonnie, then at me, then back to Vonnie. “Everybody wants to know how I feel about David and Velvet.” She pointed to Lisa Leann. “And don’t go reading anything into this either. But of all the women he could get involved with, he’s got to go and choose that one. And for what? Well, we all know for what. He’s trying to get under my skin.”

“Looks to me like he’s succeeding,” Lisa Leann said.

Donna turned such a hot shade of red I thought she was going to explode. “Oh, why don’t you go bake something, Lisa Leann?” she asked, then stomped over to the coat tree, grabbed her leather jacket, and stormed out the door without even putting it on. We all scampered to the front window and watched as she descended the stairs, all the while shoving her arms into the jacket’s sleeves, then shrugging before sprinting across the street to Higher Grounds.

“She’s looking for Clay,” Vonnie said from beside me.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

Vonnie stared straight ahead. “I just know,” she said. “Call it maternal instinct, if you want, but I just know. A cup of coffee, some of Sally’s bread pudding, and a chat with Clay and she’ll be all right.” Then she turned to me. “Don’t worry, Evie. She’ll be all right.”

I drove my car toward the tavern, all the while forgetting my promise to be home by two. I didn’t even bother to call Vernon, a choice I knew I’d regret later, but I was too angry to think about that at the time. Vernon would understand when I told him everything, I decided. Especially the part about Donna crying.

When I arrived at the tavern I was relieved to see Dee Dee’s beat-up old car parked near the rear. I parked, stomped out of my car, and slammed the door, then proceeded to the bar’s front door, yanking it open with such force I nearly jerked my arm out of the socket.

The room looked like I knew it would. A few ne’er-do-wells sitting at various tables, sipping on glasses and bottles of whatever and whatnot. The large-screen TV blared a basketball game as a haze of cigarette smoke assaulted my nostrils.

As soon as my eyes adjusted to the light (or lack thereof ) I scanned the room for Dee Dee, also known as Doreen, my childhood rival. She was behind the bar, washing out a few glasses, best I could tell. I strolled over to the bar, and without looking up she said, “What’ll you have?”

“A word, if you don’t mind.”

She looked up with a frown. “For the love of Pete. What is it this time?”

The “this time” was in no doubt due to the “last time” I had come to the tavern. Worried that Doreen would cause problems for Donna around my wedding, I’d been brazen enough to fly in here and demand to know whether or not Vernon was Velvet’s father.

“We need to talk. We can do it out here or in your office. Makes no difference to me.”

Doreen rolled her eyes. “I thought you and I had buried the hatchet a few months ago.” She had a point. Still, she’d made Donna cry. When I didn’t answer, Dee Dee called toward the back, “Hey! One of you boys come out here for a minute, will ya? I need to take a break.” She reached into her shirt pocket and brought out a pack of cigarettes. “You don’t mind if I take a cigarette break while you chew me out, do you? It’ll make it set easier.”

“I have no intention of chewing you out,” I said. The very thought was beneath me.

A lanky young man with shaggy hair came bopping from the kitchen to where Doreen stood. “I’ll man the bar for you,” he said.

Doreen smiled her crooked smile at him and said, “Thanks, Shelton. I’ll be back in a few.” Then she headed around to the front of the bar, where I stood staring at the young man.

“Shelton? Are you Shelton Brodock? Treena and Travis Brodock’s son?”

He peered at me through the light hair that covered over his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Don’t let her bother you, Shel,” Doreen said from beside me. “She just thinks she’s God’s gift to Summit View because of who her daddy was and who she’s married to now.” Then she leaned over the bar and exaggerated a whisper, “But let me tell you, I was married to him first, and he isn’t anything to get so uppity about.” The two of them laughed as though they shared some dark secret about my Vernon. Then Shelton looked at me. “Yeah, I’m Treena and Travis’s son. I’ll be sure to tell them I saw you here,” he said, then looked at Doreen again. The two of them shared another laugh at my expense before I turned away and began making my way to the front door.

Doreen was on my heels. “You asked for it.” Another congested laugh barked out of her lungs.

“I am not speaking to you further until we reach the dead of winter outside these doors,” I said.

We exited the tavern. I now followed Doreen to the side of the building and then to where her car was parked. She propped her backside against its trunk, then bent forward slightly to light her cigarette. I stood in front of her, wrapping my arms around myself, hugging my winter coat as close to my body as I could.
This conversation had better be a short one or I’ll freeze to death in the process.

Doreen blew a combination of cigarette smoke and winter air toward me. “So, what can I do you for?” She sounded like a dumb girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Of course I knew better. Doreen had grown up not too far from my house. She and I had even been something close to friends at one time. That is, before she stole Vernon away from me at the age of twelve. From that moment on, she was my sworn enemy.

Before I could answer her question, she went on to another one. “And how’s my ex-husband doing these days? You making him happy?” The emphasis on happy was a clear one, and I blushed.

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well, just why are you here?”

“I want you to cancel out of the Prattle bridal shower over in Breckenridge.”

Doreen drew on her cigarette. “Now, why’d I want to go and do that?” she asked, blowing billows of smoke as she spoke.

“Because.”

Doreen laughed again. “Oh, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

In all honesty, I was a little unsure as to how to answer. But with not a lot of time to wrestle with it, I finally decided that honesty was the best policy. “Look, Doreen.”

“Dee Dee.”

“Whatever. Donna knows you’re going to bartend this little party, and she’s very upset. I’m asking you to do this for Donna . . . for your daughter. She is your daughter, after all, and I’d think you’d be interested in how this might affect her.”

Doreen (or Dee Dee or whatever she wanted to be called these days) threw the remainder of her cigarette to the ground below, then stamped it out under the toe of her scuffed boot. “Of course she’s my daughter,” she said. “And of course I’m interested.” She looked up at me with fire in her eyes. “Don’t you even think about insinuating that I don’t care about her none. Because I do. She’s my baby girl, and I love her.”

“Then show it.”

Dee Dee took a quick step toward me then, and I took another quick step back. “Now you listen here, Evangeline Vesey. Don’t you dare come out here to my place of business and start this show, you hear me? My little girl has a problem with me working an extra job and helping her own sister start a good business in town, then she can come to me and tell me so. She knows how to speak out of her own mouth. I ought to know, I was there when she spoke her first words while your darling husband was out working all the blessed day and night.”

The sound of a vehicle crunching across the front parking lot caught my attention before I could answer the jab. We both turned in time to see Donna’s Bronco come to a stop. She stared at us for a minute, then spun the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot as fast as I would assume she dared.

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