Casket Case (13 page)

John and I have become closer since I grew up, and normally I babble constantly to him when he’s around, but the wind and rain beating against the car made me silent. I wanted John to keep his mind on his driving.

Blue Crab’s parking lot wasn’t crowded, and John pulled into a space near the door. He reached across to the backseat and brought the umbrellas out. He got out of the car, put both umbrellas up, and walked around to my side. Even with his thoughtfulness, I was soaked again by the time we stepped into the restaurant. The wind was blowing the rain at us sideways.

The restaurant interior might seem tacky to some folks, but I’ve always loved it. Gray board walls are hung with fishing nets, and there are crabs of all sizes displayed in the nets. Some of them are genuine shells, but others are plastic. Not kiddy plastic, but expensive crabs created to decorate places like Blue Crab.

Not nearly so classy as Andre’s, Blue Crab is still several notches above where I usually eat. When the server brought the menus, John ordered a decanter of wine. John did the sniff, taste, and smile routine. The server poured mine and walked away. John lifted his glass in a toast. “To us,” he proposed. “To happy futures and many long years of health for Little Sister and me.”

It wasn’t what I’d expected since all of my brothers know many, many risqué toasts. They learned them from Daddy. After John married Miriam and moved to Atlanta, he had changed from the rude, crude, socially unacceptable redneck typical of our household. I’ve been to visit them in their McMansion with their adorable son and daughter. They even have a maid and a gardener.

“Callie!” I heard the squeal before I saw her. Pearl White and her fiancé were rising from a table on the other side of the room. Pearl came clumping over to John and me with her walker. She had on a red dress and she’d put red tennis balls on her walker.

“Is Jane with you?” Pearl asked. As if she were blind or Jane was invisible.

“No, ma’am.”

“I was hoping to speak with her. Ms. Lucas says that Jane is being very difficult.”

My hackles rose on that. “Mrs. White, Jane was supposed to move today, but as you know, the weather hasn’t cooperated. Can’t you make that woman wait until after Jane’s moved out to show her the garage apartment? If not, maybe you should come with her.”

“I just don’t understand. I know Jane went through a rowdy spell as a young lady, but she’s always been the epitome of courtesy to me.” Pearl’s voice was almost a whimper.

“That’s because you aren’t rude to her and you don’t scream at her.”
And you’re the only person in the world who’d call Jane a “lady” during her wild time.
I didn’t say the second part of that thought aloud.

“I’m selling everything off, all of my property, so no one can say that Georgie is after my money.” She laughed. “You know, they say that a lot of the time when people find their soul mates on the Internet and one of them happens to be a few years younger than the other. I’m not going to have anyone saying that about my Georgie.”

“I’ve told you not to worry about it,” George said.

Pearl continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “I was just lucky that Lucas Investment Enterprises came along so quickly to buy my two houses, the apartment, and the oceanfront lot.”

“An oceanfront lot!” I splattered a bit of spittle as I spat out the words. “Mrs. White, there isn’t any oceanfront property available around here. Hasn’t been for years!”

“Well, I’ve owned this piece for years and not had it on the market. It’s leased out to a waterfront restaurant, but I’m going to sell it. Get rid of all the responsibilities of these rentals.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” John asked.

“What’s wrong with that?” Pearl demanded with just a touch of anger in her voice.

George Carter pulled out a chair for Pearl as though they were joining us. He said, “Maybe you should listen to these young people, Pearl. Wait a while to liquidate all your holdings.”

“No, I want to be free and clear of everything here. When we marry and move to Orlando, I don’t want any business to distract me from living happily ever after.”

“But you’ll still have to manage your assets,” John commented. “Just because it’s money instead of property doesn’t mean you won’t have business responsibilities.”

“You don’t understand,” Pearl said and sat in the chair George had pulled out for her. He sat down beside her. “Georgie here”—she motioned toward Mr. Carter—“has made it clear to me that he doesn’t want anything from me but love.” She smiled up at the man with a simpering look and, buh-leeve me, it was all I could do not to barf. “I’m going to donate the money to homes for the blind and deaf.”

“Do you mind if we join you?” George asked the question, but it was a case of putting the horse after the cart. They’d already sat with us.

“Oh, no, not at all.” Ex-cuuze me. That was John talking, because I
did
mind. I don’t have many opportunities to talk alone with my oldest brother, and, besides, I’d been thinking this dinner might be a private birthday celebration.

The server reappeared beside us, and John ordered Lobster Imperial for himself and my favorite, Crab Benedict, for me. George suggested dessert to Pearl, but she said, “No, just coffee, please.” He requested two coffees and one slice of Chocolate Volcano cake.

The young man brought John’s and my dinners at the same time as their coffees and cake.

Pearl took a sip of coffee and screwed her face into a very unpleasant and unhappy expression. “What’s wrong?” the server asked.

“This coffee tastes like crude oil. When did you make it? This morning? It’s way too strong for me.”

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Let me take it away and brew a fresh pot for you.”

“No, it’s just too strong. Bring me a whiskey sour instead.”

John raised an eyebrow at me, our secret signal when we were amused.
Like a whiskey sour is a weaker drink than coffee!

Mrs. White rambled on while we ate. “I’ve been so busy trying to take care of everything for my move that I haven’t even checked on when Melvin’s funeral is scheduled. Do you know, Callie?” The waiter had arrived with her whiskey sour, and she took a long swallow.

“No, the services aren’t set yet.” That’s all I really should have said, but I added, “Dr. Melvin’s still in Charleston.”

“In Charleston? Why?”

“Since he died an unattended death, the coroner had to order an autopsy.”

“But surely there’s nothing strange about his death.” She emptied the whiskey sour and cast a coy look at her fiancé that said
Another one, please.
Mr. Carter caught the server’s eye, pointed to Pearl’s glass, and nodded. That’s always amazed me how men can order without a word, but I usually have to repeat what I want several times to communicate with waiters and waitresses.

“That’s just the law,” I said and took another bite of my Crab Benedict. I love that dish, could eat it three times a day.

“I guess we all know what probably killed him out there in that Jacuzzi. I warned him that people with hypertension aren’t supposed to use hot tubs, but he told me he’d never had high blood pressure.” Pearl giggled, knocked back the rest of her drink, and said, “At least he died happy.”

George Carter patted her hand and waved to the waiter. I wondered if he thought she needed another drink, but instead he asked for their check. Pearl wasn’t ready to leave. She wanted to talk about Dr. Melvin.

“You know, Melvin was my last relative,” she said.

“Relative?” I asked.

“Yes, we were cousins on our mothers’ side. I was so happy for him when he met Roselle. He’d been so lonely since his first wife died.” She sniggered another whiskey sour giggle. “Actually, that’s how I met my Georgie.” She gave him yet another flirty look and literally batted her eyelashes at him.

“Melvin was so happy after he met Roselle that he insisted I visit the chat room where he’d met her, and that’s where I met Georgie.” She tipped the empty whiskey sour glass to her lips and flicked her tongue inside the rim. “Online. I met my Georgie online, and now I’m going to live happily ever after.”

Mr. Carter stood and gently pulled Mrs. White’s chair out. “We’d best be heading back to Beaufort. The weather sounds worse outside.”

“You’re still staying in Beaufort?” I asked.

Pearl giggled. “Yes, Georgie’s such a sweetheart. We’re still staying in a bed and breakfast because he doesn’t want me to have to cook or clean.”

“Good night,” George said and tried to nudge her away.

Pearl turned back to me. “Online, Callie. That’s what you and Jane should do, find yourselves nice young men on the Internet, like I did.” She turned toward George. “Let me use your pen, Georgie.” He handed her a pen and she wrote something on the napkin at her place, folded it, and handed it to me. “This is the best place to go on the Internet to meet good people. It’s where Melvin met Roselle and where Georgie and I found each other.” I shoved the paper into my purse.

When they’d gone, John said, “Little Sister, I’d just as soon you not go online looking for dates. There are plenty of fish in the ocean who aren’t hunched up behind their computers.”

“Fish in the ocean?” I laughed. “Since when do you talk in clichés?”

“Since I got old.”

“Old? You’re not
old
!”

“I’ll be forty-six next month, and Dad will be sixty-three his next birthday.”

“He was only seventeen when you were born?”

“Only sixteen—both him and Mom. They got married at fifteen.”

“How’d they do that? Could you get married that young back then?”

“Not supposed to, but nobody checked it. Didn’t have to have a birth certificate in South Carolina. People just lied when they got the license.”

“I don’t think I ever knew that Daddy and our mother married so young. I just never added it up or subtracted it or whatever.”

“That’s one reason I wanted to talk to you tonight.” He refilled our wineglasses.

“About our parents having you when they were sixteen?” I smiled. “I think any worry you may have had about me being an unwed teenaged mother is about fourteen years too late.”

“No, about me. I want to talk about
me
, but first, let’s celebrate your birthday.” John glanced over my shoulder and nodded. More of that silent male communication.

I hadn’t noticed, but the waiter was standing behind me. He leaned around and placed on the table a small birthday cake, decorated with pink roses and one flaming candle. I’ve always loved birthday cakes with pink roses.

At the same time, John pulled a wrapped jewelry box from his pocket and set it by the cake.

“Happy Birthday, Little Sister,” he said.

I blew out the candle, wasting my birthday wish on good weather so we could get Jane moved. I knew what the box held. Since I got my ears pierced, John’s gifts to me for birthdays and every Christmas have always been earrings. These were pink pearl studs—
real
pearls. John’s presents are always nice. I wanted to tell him that I’d lost one of the diamond earrings he’d given me for my twenty-first birthday, but I’d wait and drop that hint closer to Christmas.

Our private birthday celebration turned out fine . . .
until
we finished our cake and John began telling me what he’d come to say.

“I’m
not happy, Callie. I’ll be forty-six next month. I don’t think I want to live out my life working for my father-in-law.” He drank the remains from his wine goblet and then drained his water glass. The server hurried over and refilled it. John waited until the young man had moved away before speaking again. “I’m thinking about leaving Miriam. I still love her, but I’m not
in
love with her anymore.”

This was John. My perfect brother. The only one of us kids who hadn’t already divorced at least one spouse. The successful brother. The stable one.

“Who
is
she?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“This sounds like a bunch of caca to me. What did you do? Find some little secretary to make you feel young again? Is she out of her twenties?”

“Callie, it’s not that at all. I’m not having an affair. I’d never do that to Miriam.”

“But you’re going to
leave
her? What about Johnny and Megan? Don’t you know what this will do to them?”

“To be honest, I don’t know that they’ll care. They’re both tied up in so many activities that I hardly ever see them. And Megan is dating now. Did you know that? My little girl is dating. I think fourteen’s too young, but Miriam insists that
all
girls date at that age. I know what we’d have done if you wanted to date at fourteen, but my opinion doesn’t seem to amount to anything in Atlanta.”

“I wish I’d been allowed to date at fourteen. Just think, Daddy and our mother were married and having you at fifteen.”

“Yeah, they were having me, so they got married. That’s not what I want for my children.”