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Authors: Jeanne Matthews

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BOOK: Bet Your Bones
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Chapter Two

The 757 roared low over the southeast coast of Oahu and the sapphire-blue waters that had made Honolulu a tourist mecca. Dinah recognized Waikiki Beach from the million pictures she’d seen of it and there was no mistaking Diamond Head crater in the distance. As the plane touched down and taxied toward the gate, she wondered what qualities in addition to looks and humor would appeal to the older and wiser Claude Ann. She was bound to be a lot choosier now. In spite of the letter’s giddy tone, the ordeal of divorce would have quelled her youthful tendency to impetuousness and made her more cautious about men.

After the usual delay in hooking up the jetway and unlocking the doors, Dinah wrestled her carry-on out of the overhead bin and melded into the ant column of tourists shambling out of the plane and proceeding toward Customs. Once she’d been cleared for entry, she made a beeline toward ground transportation. As she exited the non-secure area, Claude Ann called out her name and waved excitedly from the back of a crowd of lei-bearing greeters. Dinah forgot about qualms and omens and ran into her friend’s outstretched arms.

“Aloha, honey.” Claude Ann lassoed her with a garland of fragrant white flowers and gave her a big hug. “You don’t look too bagged-out for an aging Pocahontas.”

Dinah laughed and gave her a pretend tomahawk chop. She was proud of her Seminole ancestry, maybe even a bit vain, and Claude Ann liked to razz her about it. “Thirty-one’s not so old. It didn’t keep you from landing a new husband, did it?”

“No, and he’s a pip. I can’t wait to show him off to you.” She hadn’t lost any of her sparkle. Her brown eyes shone with their familiar, teasing mischief and her heart-shaped face, framed by a cascade of coppery-blond curls, radiated warmth and vitality.

Dinah stood back and took in her high wattage smile. “You look happy, Claudy. Really and truly happy.”

“Honey, I’m over the moon.”

A wiry little girl with sulky eyes, sorrel hair, and a face full of freckles shoved in between them. “I’m Marywave.”

Claude Ann’s smile waned and she looked almost apprehensive. “You remember Marywave, I suppose.”

“Of course, I remember.” Dinah smiled and held out her hand. “You’ve grown since I saw you last, Marywave.”

She hugged to her chest a small, white leather Bible and ignored Dinah’s hand. “I’ll be ten in September.”

“My, my.” Dinah took back her hand. “Time flies.”

“Daddy says the reason you don’t come to visit us when you’re in Needmore is ‘cause you can’t stand him.” Her drawl was even thicker than Claude Ann’s.

“Your daddy’s mistaken, Marywave. The last time I was in town I had a lot of family business to take care of. I barely had time to meet your mother for lunch in Atlanta before I had to leave again.”

Claude Ann gave the child a sour look and turned back to Dinah. “Oh, nevermind Marywave. She’s goin’ through a weird phase. Come on. Let’s find the bar and I’ll tell you about my new life.” She grabbed Dinah’s suitcase and started down the concourse, her long tan legs striding out as if she were skating.

Dinah followed a few paces behind, glancing over her shoulder once or twice at Marywave, who poked along clutching her Bible.

Outside the bar, Claude Ann turned around and put a hand on her hip. “Step it up lively, y’all. We haven’t got all day.”

Marywave scowled. “Daddy says strong drink is an abomination unto the Lord.”

“Jiminy, Marywave.” Claude Ann made an exasperated face. “Don’t be a pain in front of Dinah. Give me a break, okay?”

Dinah still had a buzz from the Bloody Marys. She said, “Maybe we should put off drinks until dinner, Claudy.”

“No. I’ve been lookin’ forward to your getting here all week and I won’t be pushed around by this pest.” She took Marywave by the scruff of the neck, propelled her into the bar, and parked her on a red vinyl bench next to the hostess’ station. “You can sit right here and read your book of abominations and thou-shalt-nots and wait for us. Maybe you can latch onto some other poor, thirsty sinner to preach to.”

The hostess arrived with menus. “May I seat you ladies?”

“Is there a table where we can keep tabs on my daughter?”

“Of course. This way.”

The hostess seated them at a sun-dappled table beside a window under a row of hanging pots with trailing jasmine vines. Claude Ann glared at Marywave. Dinah looked over her shoulder and saw Marywave glaring back.

Claude Ann said, “She’s about to moralize me to death. Hank’s pumped her full of so much religious rigmarole she can’t open her mouth without versifyin’, mostly about my sins. Let me tell ya’, it’s depressin’ when your nine-year-old calls you a harlot. And she snubs Xander like he’s the Devil incarnate.”

“I gather that she’s not on board with the new marriage.”

Claude Ann rolled her eyes. “She got it in her head that sooner or later, I’d tuck tail and go home to Hank. She doesn’t understand how miserable he’s made me these last couple of years. I smiled and stuck it out as long as I could. I didn’t want to upset Marywave or scandalize the neighbors. Except for your family, nobody in Needmore gets divorced. But after Hank had that scary car wreck and nearly died, he changed. He was always kind of a fuddy-duddy. But there toward the end, it was like he totally forgot how to have fun.”

A waitress came and Claude Ann ordered two “Koko Heads” without asking Dinah what she’d like. “No menus,” she said. “We’re not gonna eat.”

Dinah’s stomach grumbled. “But Claudy, I’m hungry.”

“Eat some of these macadamia nuts.” She pushed a bowl toward Dinah. When the waitress had gone, she said, “We’re gonna have a fancy gourmet dinner with Xander at the hotel.” Her eyes darted back to Marywave, as if she weren’t sure she’d stay put. “She takes after Hank, doesn’t she?”

Dinah answered warily. “A little maybe. She has your nose. And great bone structure.”

“Hawaii’s gonna be hell on those freckles. The little ninny won’t wear sunscreen. Says God’ll take care of her. Like He gives a hoot if she’s speckled as a guinea hen.”

Dinah said, “I don’t recall Hank being overly religious in high school.”

“He wasn’t. He found Jesus after his accident and he’s been batty over religion ever since. Not the nice, quiet, do-unto-others kind, but the bullyin’, do-what-I-say-or-fry-in-hell kind. I tried to be sweet and understandin’. The poor guy was hurtin’ and he couldn’t work for months. But one day I woke up to his preachin’ and naggin’ at me and the frying sounded like a day at the beach. Honestly, I don’t know why I stayed with him as long as I did.”

Dinah was still puzzling over why she’d married him in the first place, although there was never any question that Hank had worshipped the ground Claude Ann walked on. “Tell me about Xander. Apart from being brainy and handsome, what’s he like?”

“You’re gonna just love him to death. He’s thoughtful and considerate and he has the most elegant way of talkin’, like something out of an oldtime book.” She wiggled the engagement ring under Dinah’s nose.

“Wow. It’s stunning.”

“He was careful to make sure it’s a non-conflict diamond. I swear, he just knows everything.”

“What kind of a scientist is he?”

“A volcanologist. He came out here from Maryland to go to the University of Hawaii and stayed on because, I mean, where else would a volcanologist have two active volcanoes blowing their stacks for him every day?”

“No place as heavenly as Hawaii?” ventured Dinah, intoxicated by the perfume of her lei.

“You got that right.” Claude Ann broke into a huge, exultant smile. “Can you believe I’ve come up so far in the world, Di? From a dumb ol’ dairy farmer in the Georgia sticks to a brilliant scientist in this incredible place? It’s like a dream. Sometimes I get scared I’ll wake up and he’ll have run off with some egghead who understands what the hell he’s talkin’ about.”

“I’m sure Xander enjoys your sassy, non-eggy take on things,” said Dinah.

“Yeah, but I wanted you here so he’d know I have a brainy friend, too. I told him you’re the one with a diploma that says magna cum laude. Y’all can talk Latin to each other and I won’t know if you’re flirtin’ or what.”

Dinah frowned. She tried to be sensitive to Claude Ann’s I-didn’t-graduate-from-college-like-you-did complex, but sometimes she felt like smacking her. Everybody had begged her not to drop out of school to get married and Dinah had urged her time and again to go back and finish her education. It wasn’t as if the Taliban was preventing her. And that barb about flirting touched a nerve. Did she think…?

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I’m just kiddin’. You know I want you here ‘cause I love you. You’re the sister I never had.”

Dinah relaxed a fraction. The things unspoken between them had made her touchy.

The waitress arrived with two coconut shells filled with some kind of creamy goop with a yellow hibiscus floating on top.

Claude Ann plunked a straw into the concoction and sucked down a long swig. “This drink is named after an extinct volcano here on Oahu. Seems Pele got chased by a pig god and one of her sisters sent Koko Head crater as a decoy to save her from being raped. Dippy, I know. But folks say dippy stuff all the time around here. Anyhow, this is Pele’s favorite drink.”

Pele again. She seemed to have a grip on everyone’s imagination. Dinah took a tentative sip, expecting gin. It tasted like a coconut milkshake spiked with rum. Where liquor was concerned, it seemed that the goddess had catholic tastes. “A woman I met on the plane told me that Pele’s been cutting up rough lately. On the Big Island.”

“Aw, just a few little jigglers. Sometimes you don’t even feel ’em.” Claude Ann added a spoonful of sugar to her Koko Head and stirred it in with her straw. “Earthquakes come in swarms, if you can believe it. Like wasps or hornets. It’s a baby volcano that’s still underwater off the southeast coast of the Big Island that’s causing ’em, but Xander says they’re harmless.”

“I guess a volcanologist should know,” said Dinah, doubtful all the same.

“He’s a volcanologist only part-time, really. This past year he’s spent most of his time workin’ on a major real estate deal. There’s not all that much land to build on in Hawaii and what there is of it is worth a fortune. When it sells, we’re gonna be Rockefeller rich.” She took a quick slurp and puckered her brow. “Are the Rockefellers still rich? Anyhow, Xan’s kept his hand in as a volcanologist because it gives him more credibility with the environmentalists and regulators.”

“You’re moving awfully fast, Claudy. Shouldn’t you live together for a while and see if the infatuation lasts?”

“I knew you’d say that. You’ve got what they call ‘trust issues’ on account of finding out at such a young age that your daddy was a drugrunnin’ skunk. It’s warped your faith in people.”

Dinah and Claude Ann had been debating the cause and effects of Hart Pelerin’s supposed criminality since they were in the fifth grade. Dinah’s slant on her father had mellowed over the last year. Still and all, it was her experience that the capacity of human beings to lie couldn’t be overestimated. “How did you meet Xander? And where? At last check, there were no volcanoes in South Georgia.”

“I didn’t write you, but Hank and I separated last summer. He made a big stink about wanting custody of Marywave and it took a while for the divorce to be final. In the end, the judge liked me best and Hank had to give me a whoppin’ big pile of cash. He had to take out a loan on the farm, which really honked him off, but my lawyer said I deserved half the marital assets and I got to keep the money the insurance company paid me after Hank’s car wreck for my loss of consortium. Anyhow, when the hoopla was over, I wanted to get as far away from Needmore as I could go where they still speak English. As soon as school was out, I hogtied Marywave and bundled her off to Maui. I met Xan when I went paraglidin’ off Haleakala and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.”

Dinah felt the unromantic prick of skepticism. Just how whopping a pile had Hank coughed up and how recklessly had the gay divorcée been flaunting it? “Are you sure Xander’s the real deal, Claudy? He sounds almost too good to be true.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure. Hank was plain and borin’ as burlap, but Xander’s smooth as silk. You know what he says? He says Hank was infra dig. Isn’t that a scrumptious word? I love it, even if it is Latin. It means beneath one’s dignity and Hank was that, all right.”

Hank was about as suave as a herd of Holsteins, but he was honest and hard working and beneath nobody’s dignity. He had developed his family’s dairy into a top regional brand and, in spite of a sort of innate gloominess, he had tried to make Claude Ann happy—a pied-à-terre in Atlanta where she could shop ’til she dropped and there’d been two or three vacations to Europe. Dinah felt she should put in a good word for him, but there was no percentage in sticking up for an ex. “Is Hank badly crippled from his accident?”

“They had to amputate his left leg, but he’s back managin’ the farm, bossin’ the help around same as always. Sheesh, I can’t see why he’s so bent out of shape about the divorce. Jiminy Christmas, we haven’t had consortium since his wreck.”

Dinah didn’t need the intimate details. “I guess Marywave misses her dad.”

“Yeah.” Claude Ann looked again to make sure Marywave was still there. “I had to give her her own cell phone so she could keep in touch with her friends back home, but she mostly jaws with Hank. After she told him about me and Xander, he started sending me wacko letters warnin’ me to repent before it’s too late. Wantonness and licentiousness and walkin’ after ungodly lusts. Sheesh. To read one of his rants, you’d think I’d taken up streetwalkin’.”

Dinah didn’t like the drift of Hank’s thoughts. Every day of the week some unhinged man gunned down his wife, his children, and any bystanders unlucky enough to be caught in his cross hairs. “Has he threatened you, Claude Ann?”

“Nah. He’s gonna leave my punishment to God. I just wish he wouldn’t brainwash Marywave.” She shook off the mood and put on a big smile. “But I’m not worried. She’ll come around once she starts school out here.”

“Your letter mentioned that Xander has children. Does Marywave get along with them?”

BOOK: Bet Your Bones
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ads

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