2 Maid in the Shade (15 page)

S
he grinned merrily “Now is that a challenge?”

“I know you better than
that; I think Ben would see through you too and pretty quickly. You are all raucous misbehavior on the outside, complete propriety when necessary and extremely loyal.”

“Would you believe me if I said Jared is just like me that way
?”

“Nope, and stop
marketing mates to me.”

“So Ben
has another surprising side too? Is he secretly a bad boy?”

“You MUST be trying to aggravate me! I just mean he keeps a lot of what he thinks to himself and few people can really get under his skin but when they do…”

“He is a volcano ready to erupt!”

“Fine, Ben is a volcano. He is also true. Definitely for better or worse material, in sickness and in health.”

“And you would label Jared what?”

“Brea
k glass! For emergency use only,” I turned back to the computer and began closing down the documents.

“I
t seems to me that a girl who says she is never getting married might need both. So, one you don't want to live without, one you could die without.”

I
froze. “That’s overly dramatic, but you really are deceptively wise.”

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“No worries. Right now I really hate that about you.”

Facebook Post:
“My method for getting what I want is: First I use honey, then vinegar, then more honey, then hydrochloric acid.”

Chapter 10

W
e went by “Pie in the Sky” and I picked up two fresh chicken pies of Diva Mama’s. Then I bought an extra six pack of the frozen individual ones for Mona and another for me. Lucy picked up several orders from the Diva Mama selection and some individual ones for her maid Betty.

“How is Betty
?” I asked idly as we were waiting to be rung up.

A
passing shadow crossed her face and Lucy toyed with her wild wavy hair for a moment before answering. She pulled at one ginger lock straightening it briefly before it sprang back into the ocean of thick waves and curls that looked so overpowering on her pixie frame.

“Not great. I have to figure something out. She’s a proud woman. Thankfully, she is also forgetful. So if I tell her she cleaned a room already then she snaps at me.
” She says, “I may not be what I used to be but I know what I know and I don’t need to be told I done cleaned that room!”

I
laughed, the imitation was spot on.

“Let me guess, you clean before she gets there.”

“Yeah, except the kitchen and the study. The kitchen is what she tackles before her stories come on the television. She falls asleep in her chair now. When she wakes up we fix lunch, and finish up the great room where I just scatter some things around. Then she does a little in the study. Rod isn’t around much so that isn’t too bad.”

“I guess you can’t hire an extra maid.”

“I wish; keeping the house up to her standards is wearing me out. Of course I could hire someone else, but word would get around, she would be ashamed.”

“Can she retire
?”

“Sure, I set up an account for her years ago and paid off her house when Mother died, I told her it was in the will. But she would never make it in a nursing home an
d someone needs to check on her. That is just a fact.”

“So I
am sure you have thought of a backup plan.”

“I have;
many backup plans. The woman half raised me. I have to decide what’s fair to my family too.”

“Rod
always seems on board with whatever you want; I’m sure any choice you make will be good for the kids.”

“How so
?”

“Example. Role model. Etcetera.”

“True.” She said thoughtfully, “that is true.”

T
he cashier, whose name tag said “Rose” rang up our purchases and sweetly complied with all the different packaging in each insulated bag.

A
s we were turning to leave the bells on the door tinkled and a man walked in. “You got the Diva M-?”

R
ose pointed to the freezer case with the Diva Mama signature logo on it and smiled as she waved us out the door.

W
hen we got to Herb's with the stored document he looked relieved and grateful to see the memory stick. He awkwardly handed me a check and seemed touched by the condolences. I was pretty quick to mention I hadn’t actually baked the pie.

“Come on in and have a piece,” he told us and we happily obliged. 

“I'm so sorry about Mae,” I told him as we grabbed plates and poured milk, “I know you were close.”

“Yeah, but I had no idea she never filed those papers,” he shook his head. “Felt strange to be named as husband in the obituary. It feels wrong
. I think Bill is upset about that too.

“But legally, it’s a fact.”

“Well….. Yeah,” he said digging into his meal, “I tole her Bill was a good man but she was dragging her feet. She was going to marry him, no question; she was just worried about being stuck in her ways. You know, this town don’t take kindly to someone divorced twice. Once, they’ll forgive, twice puts you in a whole ‘nother category.”

“My first wife
, she died some years back.” He shook his head. “That gal; it was all different you know what I mean? I was lucky there. She was real close to getting engaged to my best friend. I was sure he was going to pop the question. Big group of us went out on the lake one day, berry picking, swimming, picnic…you know the kinds of things kids aren’t interested in anymore. And we were together, the three of us, just rambling in the brambles and suddenly I knew my friend was going to ask her soon. But he never got to, she got sick shortly after. Folks called it a nervous breakdown, but I stood by her. He didn’t. I knew she would be okay someday. She was, and she was real brave about it. She could have left town and gotten a fresh start somewhere, but she stuck with me. We got married and as grateful as I was to have her, that pretty gal thought she was the lucky one. Couldn’t convince her to have kids though; she was afraid the hallucinations would come back and she would be a bad mother. We was real happy though the whole time. She died in a car accident in the city. 

N
ever figured I’d get married again myself, but you know, you get lonely and sometimes you think companionship might be enough. It ain’t.

I
liked Mae just fine,” he continued, “but we never should of gotten married.”

He
wiped his eyes and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose.

L
ucy and I stared at each other across the table. “Yikes!” her eyes seemed to say, while mine were thoughtful.

H
erb took a big sip of milk and tucked his handkerchief away, signaling that sharing time was over.

“Well,” he said with a smile, “you can’t expect that kind of luck twice in a lifetime.” He took a big bite of pie then stopped and chewed carefully “Good Lord almighty this pie is so good my taste bugs are doing a jig!”

“You know,
Diva is working on a vegetarian one, she has a portabella mushroom in the works already. You two should get together on something.”

H
e brightened, “Maybe she could just teach me how to bake a pie. I would want my own name on anything that come outa my expertise.”

“
I imagine she could name it after you and cut you in, but Diva Mama? You just can’t approach that kind of pie like an ordinary one. Diva raises the whole concept to an art form. She has the following.”

“Just like Mae’s books”, I co
ntinued, “plenty of people have the knowledge but Mae knew how to serve it up.”

“That don’t make it
just hers though,” he said huffily. “If you had you a dinner party and you hired people to set the table and bring it out of the kitchen they shouldn’t get more credit than the person doing all the cookin’. Life should be more fair; people should be more fair.”

“What would make things right Herb? What would make things fair for you
?”

“
I know one thing now; you make things right for yourself. You gotta make the deal from the start, and you can’t trust other people to recognize what you contributed.”

“
Of course not,” I soothed, “I’m just saying maybe you and Len could work something out. Sometimes it takes two. Like you and Mae you know? You two were a team. Maybe you and Diva Mama could do a forest berry pie. Although that would definitely go under “cautionary cuisine" too wouldn’t it? You can’t have just anyone out there picking berries.”

He
stiffened giving me a steely look as I smiled at him kindly. His shoulders relaxed as he went on, “I’m just happy to have the book, still being married to Mae makes it easier to change things I don’t like.”

“I thought it was finished.”

“No, not completely. It hadn’t been tweaked, my name needed to go first on there and all.”

I
didn’t answer, I wondered if he knew Mae had packaged up the manuscript without any acknowledgment of Herb’s contribution, let alone a co-authoring change.

“And I just feel funny about inheritin’,” he continued, “what's mine I got a right to but I ain't looking for anything I don't deserve.”

Lucy spoke up quickly, “It’s legally yours though right?  And married or not, you two were close and you were helping her with her book.”

“Like I SAID, wasn't her book this time, it was ours, mine really if you want to get technical about it. I don't know about her others, but she only used the best resource she could find on each title when we were together, I told her that was kinda lazy on her part, not to speak ill, you should use more than one source
. But in my case I really don’t need anything I said verified. She was practically just a typist on this one. I'm the most knowledgeable person in the country on wild edibles. I’ve studied on it practically since I was a gleam in my daddy’s eye.”

“
And she agreed to the co-authoring credit?” I asked.

S
uddenly his voice hardened, “Yes Ma'am that was the deal at the start, what makes you ask?”

“I
t’s just that I only noticed her name on it. Maybe she was planning to add you and just forgot out of habit? It doesn’t matter though really does it? I mean, you’ll get all the royalties from the book anyway.”

“It ain’t about money, it never was, it’s about recognition for something I
’ve devoted my life to being an expert in. “Doctors should be calling me, nutritionists, everybody. This book should accomplish that. I never had a kid, so this is what I can leave behind.”

“
So this book was supposed to be your legacy?” I shook my head. “I don’t know Herb; I’m not so sure it will be.”

“
And how would you know that? What do you know about anything? You get as old as me and you’ll see. My book is going to be saving lives long after I’m gone.”

S
eated in the middle as we quickly finished our pie, Lucy was watching the two of us like a spectator at a ping pong match that was turning inexplicably ugly.

“
Well,” I continued after an awkward silence was beginning to lengthen, “you can’t just take Mae’s name off the book of course, not that you would want to, and call the book completely yours. The publishing deal was made with Mae; they have some of her chapters already. In their eyes she’s the author.”

Herb’s
face blanched and it looked like he was struggling to keep from an angry retort, but he just got up, his heavily calloused hands snatching our plates and placing them on the counter. He started toward the front door, signaling our visit was over. Lucy jumped up, still chewing and we followed him from the table.

“
I do thank you for the pie and the book, but I gotta go see Bill, see what he wants to do about her final arrangements.”

I looked over at Lucy who was still trying to swallow that last bite then back at Herb.

“Whew! I'm just relieved I didn't do anything wrong, I should have asked you, but the night she died I noticed a package addressed to a publisher all stamped and everything. I’m surprised they don’t just email it but maybe she liked to do her final changes by hand. I took it, intending to send it off but I forgot about it, I just stuck it in Mae's mailbox before we came here.”

“
That's fine, but if you'll excuse me, like I said, I'm going to have to get to town.”

“
Oh it's probably been picked up by now Herb.”

“
I don't know what you're talking about.”

“
The package, I guess you're nervous about it being sent off without your revisions, but Mae must have thought it was finished.” I patted his hand. “Don't you worry, if you want the publisher to make changes and you're really the author, Mae would have told them, in fact your name will be on the contract. All you have to do is email them. The mail lady will be by soon; but you can probably email the publisher before the document makes it to New York right?”

“Sure,” he said ushering us toward the door, “I never thought of that. But I was serious about needing to go to town. I hope you all stop back when we have more time
. Thank you kindly for the pie.”

“Well,” I said, as we suddenly found ourselves standing outside, “so much for the condolence call.”

Lucy gave me a dry look. “Next time you say 'let’s deliver supper to the bereaved' just give me the heads up that it’s code for ‘pick a fight with an old guy’.”

I
was blocking Herb's truck, but I made a quick call on my way to my own car. He gunned his engine impatiently and I dropped my keys, startled that he had moved so quickly. Lucy and I both scrambled for the keys and bumped heads. Lucy started laughing. Before I could get in and give him a little wave he had backed out through his own front yard.

“
Jesus!” Lucy said and I flinched more from her language than what must have been startling behavior to her on Herb’s part. You can be quite colorful in your swearing in Union County, but that is just not the expletive of choice. However, in her defense, driving through your yard is one of those disreputable activities you only associate with people whose lawns are littered with empty bottles of Rebel Yell and cars on blocks.

L
ucy was clearly looking for an explanation from me, but I just stared at the road ahead. “I think it would be prudent to deposit Herb’s check on the way home if you don’t mind.”