Authors: Isis Crawford
A Catered Wedding (20 page)
Chapter 20
“Y
ou worry too much,” Bernie told Libby as the guard buzzed them through the gates of the Raid Estate. “I told you we'd get in.”
ou worry too much,” Bernie told Libby as the guard buzzed them through the gates of the Raid Estate. “I told you we'd get in.”
“They didn't even bother to check and see if we're expected.”
Bernie turned the windshield wipers on again. “Why would they? We're caterers. No one gives people like us a second glance. For all practical purposes, we're invisible,” Bernie said.
Libby picked off a speck of chocolate icing that she'd somehow managed to get on her white T-shirt.
“Not completely,” Libby said, thinking of the guard's reaction to Bernie. He'd spent all the time Bernie had been talking to him staring at her boobs, not that Bernie seemed to care. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it.
“What do you mean?” Bernie asked.
“Nothing,” Libby replied as Bernie continued down the road that led to the rear end of the house. “I just thought Jura would have left instructions to keep us out. That's all.”
“Why should he?” Bernie asked her sister again. “He didn't know we were coming.”
Libby grunted. Bernie looked at her. She was staring out the window.
“Every time we come here it rains,” her sister complained.
“Seems to be the case,” Bernie agreed.
Again Bernie noted that the farther away from the front they got, the worse the road became. As she parked the van next to the entrance to the kitchen she reflected it was always interesting to see the non-public face of households. It was a little like peeking into someone's bedroom. You got to find out what really went on. In the back of the Raid Estate the grass was overrun with weeds and there were no flowerbeds or specimen plantings. A line of five garbage cans stood up against the outside wall.
“Do you know,” Bernie said, “that in Estonia the groom's friends try to kidnap the bride during the bridal procession and the groom has to defend her. How emblematic is that?”
“Emblematic?” Libby asked.
“The word originally meant a raised ornament on a vessel, but now it means . . .”
“I know what it means,” Libby snapped.
Instead of asking her why she'd asked then, Bernie opened her door. Over the years she'd noticed that her sister always got snarky when she was nervous.
“Shall we go?”
Libby began working at a cuticle with her teeth. “Dad said we should talk to the shopkeepers.”
“That was because we all decided we couldn't get in the estate. And don't worry,” Bernie assured her. “We'll talk to the shopkeepers later.”
“I still think we should have discussed this with Dad,” Libby said. “He's going to be upset when he finds out.”
“We're not ten and he'll get over it. Tell me something,” Bernie asked Libby. “Why did you come along with me if you feel this way?”
Libby sighed. “Honestly?”
“Yes. Honestly.”
“Because I didn't think they'd let us in the gate.”
Bernie shook her head in mock dismay. “Oh ye of little faith. Well they did let us. And here we are.”
Libby studied the house for a moment before replying. “I still don't think they're going to talk to us. Why should they? They'd lose their jobs.”
Bernie pointed to the package of chocolate-chip cookies she'd taken from the store. “That's why we have these along.”
“I think you're giving them too much credit.”
“Well, cash would be better,” Bernie allowed. “Unfortunately I'm short of that commodity these days.”
“Fine. But you'd didn't have to take the ones with the macadamia nuts,” Libby grumbled. “Macadamias are expensive.”
“I'll buy you a jar,” Bernie told her.
Libby grunted again.
“Two jars.”
“Better.”
“That's extortion,” Bernie complained.
“Take it or leave it.”
“Obviously I have to take it,” Bernie told her as she pulled up the strap of her camisole.
Instead of replying Libby opened the car door and got out. The girls walked to the back door. A moment later a young woman answered the door.
The woman was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and her bleached blonde hair was buzzed. As Bernie introduced herself and Libby she wondered how she'd do in a hair cut like that? It was a definite look for sure. Rob would probably hate it though.
When the woman began to speak she had a heavy accent that Bernie couldn't place.
“Estonian?” she asked, hazarding a guess.
I must be right
, Bernie told herself as the woman's face lit up and she started babbling away. Bernie was getting one word out often when Joe Raid glided up behind them.
Great,
Bernie thought as she ignored Libby's I-told-you-so expression.
Okay. So maybe Dad was right. So much for interviewing the household staff.
, Bernie told herself as the woman's face lit up and she started babbling away. Bernie was getting one word out often when Joe Raid glided up behind them.
Great,
Bernie thought as she ignored Libby's I-told-you-so expression.
Okay. So maybe Dad was right. So much for interviewing the household staff.
But then Bernie thought: No. Joe Raid showing up like this might not be such a bad thing after all. In fact, it was a good thing. Neither she, her sister, nor her dad had spoken to him yet. This would be a good opportunity to find out a little more about him. Karma at work again. Maybe she should increase her meditation time.
“Yes?” he said.
Bernie pointed to the falcon perched on the leather gauntlet Joe was wearing on his arm.
“Nice peregine,” she said.
“That's Maghid.” He scratched the back of her neck with his free hand. “I'm beginning her training. So you know something about these birds?”
“I've done a little reading. What made you become interested in falconry?” Bernie asked. “Not many people are.”
“I've always been interested in raptors. The idea of joining your spirit with something like this . . . to partake of a pastime that goes back three thousand years.” Joe shrugged as a man dressed in a T-shirt and jeans appeared next to him.
“Take her back to her cage,” Joe told him. He gave the bird another scratch. “Good-bye, my sweet. I will see you soon.”
He stripped the glove off as the man carried Maghid away. “They sense things you know. They sense things that people don't. Now, may I help you?” he asked.
“Yes. We're here to get our pots from the cook.”
“Ah.”
Bernie watched as Joe took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his shirt, extracted one, lit it, and took a puff. His movements were methodical. The cigarettes were Camels, the lighter was gold. Probably Tiffany, Bernie decided.
As she watched him put his lighter back in his pocket Bernie had the feeling she could strip down naked and he wouldn't care. So either he was gay or unlike his brother Ditas he wasn't, in her mother's phrase, susceptible to female blandishments. Bernie knew that there were some men like thatâfortunately she hadn't met too many of them.
Joe blew a cloud of smoke out into the air. “She did not tell me this.”
Bernie held out the box of cookies. “We've also come to give the cook a present for storing our stuff.”
Joe held out the hand without the cigarette. Bernie noticed that his nails were manicured.
“I will take them and give them to her.”
Bernie turned up her smile another couple of watts. “So how is Jura doing?” she asked. She'd always found that when you didn't get the response you want, ignore it and try again.
“Jura?” Joe asked.
“Well all of you really. That was so terrible. On Leeza's wedding day too,” she gushed.
“Yes, it was terrible,” Joe agreed. “The worst thing imaginable.”
But he doesn't sound as if he means it
, Bernie thought.
He doesn't sound that way at all. He could be talking about getting a parking ticket.
, Bernie thought.
He doesn't sound that way at all. He could be talking about getting a parking ticket.
“And now with all your business problems.”
Joe interrupted. “What business problems?”
She'd definitely struck a chord Bernie thought as she tried to appear reluctant to bring the subject up. “The ones you're having with quality control.”
“We have no problems.” Joe declared.
“But the store I was at . . .” Bernie put her hand to her mouth and feigned dismay.
“Which store?” Joe demanded.
Bernie gave him the name.
Joe threw his cigarette on the floor and stomped it out with his foot. “Those people are idiots. They know nothing.”
“I'm sorry,” Bernie said. “I just thought that with Leeza involved in product control . . .”
“You are mistaken,” Joe said.
Bernie opened her eyes even wider. Later Libby told her she looked like a grouper.
“She wasn't involved in product control?”
Joe made a
pfsst
noise with his mouth. “That one thought chicken nuggets were good food. She had no palate. The only thing she was good at was spending money.”
pfsst
noise with his mouth. “That one thought chicken nuggets were good food. She had no palate. The only thing she was good at was spending money.”
“Family businesses are always tricky,” Bernie chirped, ignoring the puzzled look she was getting from Libby. “I know in our case my uncle and my father were going to buy into their third Arby's franchise together. They had the deal all set and everything and then my uncle's new wife went out and spent the money they were going to close the deal with. They didn't speak for years after that.”
“That would never happen in this family,” Joe protested in a tone that made Bernie think it already had. “Leeza had nothing to do with the business. Nothing.”
“Oh. I thought she was your brother's personal assistant.”
“She answered his phone and made his appointments. That was all.”
“That's good. Because on my mother's side, my great uncle married his secretary. She was thirty years younger than he was and she convinced him to sign over a big portion of the shares in the business to her and his brothers got so angry. . . . well. Maybe you read about the killing.”
Joe shook his head.
“It was years ago. One of them got life. It was terrible.”
“I'm sure it was,” Joe said, looking bored as he lit another cigarette.
“Maybe we should go and see the cook,” Bernie said tentatively as he stood there smoking. “We don't want to take up more of your time.”
“I do not know where she is,” Joe said.
Bernie showed him the box of cookies again. “Perhaps we could leave these for her in on the kitchen counter.”
“You do not trust me to give them to her?” Joe asked.
“No. No,” Bernie countered. “It's not that.”
“Then what is it?” Joe demanded.
“We need our pots,” Bernie said.
“Yes,” Libby chimed in. “We're making Swedish meatballs in them for another catering job. In fact, I promised I'd give the cook the recipe for your brother Jura.”
Meatballs?
Bernie thought.
Where the hell did Libby come up with Swedish meatballs? Especially in the summer. Actually, who ate them at all? Like Jell-O molds, they were strictly a fifties artifact.
Bernie thought.
Where the hell did Libby come up with Swedish meatballs? Especially in the summer. Actually, who ate them at all? Like Jell-O molds, they were strictly a fifties artifact.
Joe must have thought the same, Bernie decided, as she watched him raise his eyebrows.
“Jura likes Swedish meatballs?” he asked
Libby nodded. “He likes mine. They're really quite wonderful. The meatballs are made of veal, pork, and beef and are flavored with small pieces of lemon peel, black pepper, and a dash of cinnamon, then rolled in flour and very gently sautéed in butter and simmered in a cream sauce.”
“It sounds like a recipe for a heart attack to me.” Joe flicked his second cigarette onto the floor and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. “Not that it matters since as I have already told you, I do not know where she is.”
“Perhaps we can just go in the kitchen and get our pots then?” Bernie asked. “I'm pretty sure I know where they are. It'll just take a second,” she added.
Joe was just about to answer when the man Bernie had met in the hall three weeks ago came rushing toward them. Only that time he had a uniform on. Now he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. The T-shirt made his chest look even bigger. The scowl on his face had grown too. He didn't look like a happy man.
He had introduced himself as Jura's personal assistant, Bernie remembered. What the hell was his name? It was Russian. Bernie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she tried to remember. Then it came to her. It was Vladmir. Vladmir Myers. Or was it Meyers?
Bernie noticed he stopped short for a second when he saw them before continuing on. Then he came over and whispered something in Joe's ear. Joe nodded and turned back towards them.
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