Cupid's Revenge (6 page)

I had a mild brainwave and visited Geppetto’s toy store to ask about who had been buying colored chalk, but it turned out that that would be almost everyone because he had run a special on it, a box of five colors and a cupid on the front. Lots of parents liked this option better than Valentine candy, he explained.

Stymied, I stopped by Daddy’s and got an apple fritter and coffee, and Blue and I went to Courthouse Park for a snack. The chief found me there, even though I was hiding behind a dense shrub.

“No progress on the saboteur,” I reported glumly and offered him a bit of fritter. The chief declined, probably because Blue was looking anxious about the diminishing proportions of the pastry. “I don’t know how I am supposed to get anything done with this stupid wedding hanging over my head.”

“You want to marry Alex, don’t you?”

“Yes. But I don’t see why I have to have a dress bigger than a car and serve my guests fruit cake and make them dance polkas.”

The chief grimaced.

“Do you have to serve fruitcake and so on?”

“Rosemary wants fruitcake because that’s what she and Bob had.” I gulped some coffee and gave Blue the rest of the fritter. “Our wedding’s been hijacked. My only hope of survival is for Mom and Rosemary to get into a power struggle and take each other out.”

This made the chief smile a little.

“And there’s nothing you can do? Like maybe talk to your Dad? I suspect he has more influence with your mother than anyone else.”

“Dad’s on my side. He wants Alex sane and work-ready. But he’s up against an unstoppable force this time. And if we dodge by eloping, the force will never forgive us.”

“Chin up, Boston. You’ve faced worse and lived.”

“Yes. But only barely.” I shook my head. “Well, what can’t be cured must be endured. That’s what Grandma Boston always said.”

“Sound advice. So, the Sonics play tonight,” the chief said, revealing the reason for his personal visit. Well, at least another reason.

I made myself consider his unspoken question.

“It’s an away game? Sorry, but they’ll lose.”

“You’re sure?”

I stared at him with an I-beg-your-pardon expression.

“Okay,” the chief said. “We can’t win them all.”

“Come on, faithful dog. We’re off to The Falls,” I said to Blue, pitching my napkin into the little outhouse that surrounded the trashcan. Why an outhouse was classier that a green metal cylinder I did not understand, but the council had spoken and so mote it be. Public parks had outdoor toilets for trashcans.

The visitor center at The Falls was an old cinderblock building built post World War Two, and in an effort to make it look less like a large restroom facility, they had planted a dense screen of cedars mixed with donated statuary of questionable artistic merit. In honor of the approaching holiday, someone had set out sprays of red and pink silk flowers. Instead of looking like a bathroom, the building now resembled a mortuary.

Mom, Rosemary and Bob were already waiting.

“Chloe, I just don’t think…” Mom waved a hand.

But I wasn’t looking at her. Mom and Rosemary were both bright pink from the wind and the cold. Bob was gray and sweating. I had seen something like this last Christmas when the Grand Marshall died. When Bob clutched his arm, I said to Mom: “Get Bob in the car! He’s having a heart attack!”

I pulled out my cellphone and dialed 9-1-1.

The benefit of living in a small town is knowing everyone and being able to cut through red tape. I explained the situation and Judy Ripley, the ER nurse they patched me through to, agreed it would be better for us to take Bob to the hospital than to wait for the ambulance to finish its current pick-up and drop off at a car accident outside town and then come and get us.

Mom drove. She did it well. She was fast but took no chances on the icy road. We made good time and a team was waiting for us when we pulled in to the emergency entrance of the hospital.

My first call after 9-1-1 was to Alex. The second was to the chief to let him know that I probably wouldn’t be back for my afternoon shift. It didn’t occur to me until later that there was a protocol for these things and it didn’t involve phoning the chief of police on his cell, but Randy was lovely and told me not to worry.

Mom had been busy while I helped Rosemary through the admittance paperwork and we weren’t at the hospital for long before Mary Elizabeth and Dad arrived. Dad had Alex with him. There was much hugging and hand holding until the cardiologist came out an eternity later to tell us that Bob had indeed had a heart attack, but the damage was minimal and that he was stable and doing fine. Dr. Mills hoped that he would be released on Sunday— a day before the Sweethearts Ball. Looking at our horde which included Blue, the doctor added that no one was to disturb Bob at that moment but he could have short visits from immediate family that afternoon starting at three.

Rosemary and Alex were relieved at the news, but Rosemary kept saying in her helpless voice that she didn’t know what to do and Alex didn’t know how to comfort her. Finally I took her hands and said calmly: “We will do whatever needs doing. You are not alone. We are all here to see that everything gets done and gets done right. For starters, I think we could all use something warm to eat and drink. We’ve had a shock and it is cold today.”

Since Rosemary was feeling so flattened and Mom has always believed in the efficacy of warm drinks, my plan prevailed and we all trooped down to the cafeteria. I let a shaken Alex sit with his mother and Mary Elizabeth. I would comfort and assure him later if he needed it.

Mom and Dad and Mary Elizabeth left the hospital after Mary Elizabeth looked in on her brother. Blue went with Dad who would drop her at home. I tried not to thinik what the cats might be up to.

Aunt Dot, Althea, Mrs. Graves and Mr. Jackman came with contraband pie and coffee which we shared with the nurses. Randy Wallace arrived after work and he was very gentle with Rosemary and her dithering. The chief is good that way and I could see her relaxing a little more with each assurance that all would be well. The stream of visitors also assured her over and over that we would help look after Bob.

Finally it was just Alex, Rosemary and I. Alex excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Rosemary and I alone for the first time that day.

“Your family is wonderful,” Rosemary said suddenly. “They have adopted Alex, haven’t they?”

“Yes. And the thing about my family— well, it’s sort of like being in the mafia. When you’re in, you’re in all the way. Like it or not. Alex has taken it pretty well.”

This made her smile a little. Her gaze was far away though and I wasn’t surprised when she changed the subject.

“After Gwen married I was feeling very low and Bob thought I was suffering from empty nest syndrome. So, he got the cats for me. They were just babies then.”

I nodded encouragingly. The cats weren’t my favorite subject but it was better than listening to her worry about Bob dying and leaving her alone. Alex did not need to hear any more of that kind of talk.

“We hadn’t had them a week when we decided to go out to dinner. It was our anniversary. Usually we would have had a party at the house but Gwen was on her honeymoon and Alex was traveling.” She cleared her throat and I knew something bad was coming. “I made Bob come home early because I had a bad feeling. It turns out I was right. One of the kittens had gotten tangled in the cord of the blinds. Zu Ming had hung herself and she was choking to death.”

I took her hand, sharing her horror.

“It’s why I have tie-back drapes instead of blinds,” I said gently when she needed a moment to gather herself.

“I was afraid to come visit Alex without the cats. Bob didn’t want me to bring them, but I was too scared to leave them. Turns out I should have worried about Bob instead. He’s been so tired lately and…” She gulped.

“I understand,” I said, and actually did. “You know that before Alex moved in with me that I took Blue to work with me every day so she wouldn’t be alone?”

Rosemary smiled again. It was wan but it was a definite smile.

“Alex told me that. It’s what made me think I could maybe like you.”

Maybe she could like me. That was ringing endorsement. I suppressed a sigh.

“Don’t worry. I’ll grow on you. Like moss,” I said and actually got a watery chuckle.

“Your mother has been wonderful at trying to include us in the wedding plans. Many mothers of the bride wouldn’t bother. I certainly didn’t.”

“Well, Mom wants help bullying me into wedlock as quickly as possible. I am already two months behind my Cousin Althea and it is killing her. If Althea gets pregnant right away there will be no living with her. I’ll have to change my name and leave town.”

Alex came back and found his mother giggling. He looked more shocked at that than he did when he heard about his dad. He sat down beside me and took my hand.

“Okay, what are you up to?” he demanded.

“Oh, just girl talk,” I said airily. “Why don’t you and your mom go in and see Bob one more time and then we’ll head home. It’s almost eight and we are all tired.”

“Okay,” Alex said, rising again.

“But you come too, Chloe,” Rosemary said. “You’re family now. Bob will want to see you.”

Well, I never thought I’d hear that. But I smiled and went along. It might help Bob to see that peace, however tenuous, finally reined.

Chapter 8

Bob was released the next day, with a long list of instructions of things not to do. I was a bit nervous at this quick turnaround, but his relief— and Alex’s— at being out of the hospital was so strong that I didn’t let my unease at this responsibility show.

Knowing that Bob was coming home that afternoon, I spent some of my free morning cooking appropriate food. The house smelled very homey and Bob fell on his vegetable soup with all the gusto of a starving werewolf at full moon. Since the soup was super low sodium and no fat, and therefore not real fun, it had to mean that he was feeling better and that the hospital food was dire.

“Maybe Bob should have a nurse. Or go to a rehabilitation home for a while.”

“No.” Bob paused eating long enough to disagree.

“Or we could get you a motorized wheelchair.”

“No!” Bob said emphatically. “The doc says I’m fine and I need to walk. And one more word about wheelchairs and I’ll hop the next bus to Reno where I can smoke and eat dawn to dusk at the all-you-can-eat buffets.”

Rosemary gasped. She wasn’t helping Bob stay calm and Alex was unable to check her. Honestly! Someone needed to slip her a chill pill.

“Rosemary, Bob won’t be alone. You and Mary Elizabeth will be here during the day to make sure he doesn’t over-do it. Alex too. And my family will be checking in, never doubt it. Mom is bringing a casserole tonight. She has had a lot of years to learn how to cook yummy low fat and low sodium food. And if Bob or you need anything, help and company is one phone call away.”

Bob shot me a grateful look. Rosemary frowned but I took it as a good sign that she didn’t suggest that Gwen come up to help. There were apparently some bounds to the delusions she had about her daughter, and for this I was grateful. I could stand Bob and Rosemary and the cats— I might even like Bob if I got to know him— but Gwen and her demon-spawn was a line I would not cross. I suspected that she would be useless anyway. I have never met a more spoiled, self-absorbed person. Her hysterical phone calls six times a day were bad enough since they wound Rosemary up. Bob needed peace, not the drama of Rosemary junior on steroids. We did not want an encore heart attack.

“And”, I said firmly, again hiding my misgivings since they were not intuition just free-floating fear. “Tomorrow Mary Elizabeth is taking you and Mom under her wing and giving you makeovers for the Sweetheart’s Ball.”

“Oh, I don’t think that Bob should—”

“We’re going,” Bob said before slurping up the rest of his soup. “I’ve got sweat-equity in that paper palace thing and I want to see it in action. And you know I like an excuse to wear a suit.”

This was probably a lie. Certainly Alex had no love of suits.

“We’ll only go long enough to be polite,” I said. “It’s a low key affair. We’ll listen to some music, watch Mrs. Graves get crowned with that hideous tiara the Queen of the Sweethearts has to wear. And after we’ve sniggered at her a bit and I’ve shown off my dress, we’ll come home and have some tea and apple cobbler.”

“It sounds perfect. You are a darn good cook, too, Chloe. Thank you. That hit the spot.”

“Wait ‘til you try my cobbler.” I patted him on the shoulder and hoped that cobbler without butter really would be tasty. “Now, I am going to pop out to the store for a few groceries. I’m low on cinnamon.” Cinnamon is important if you aren’t using salt. And I needed butter substitute. I didn’t keep the devil’s spread around unless Mom was visiting. “Rosemary, do you need anything while I’m out?”

“No, I’m fine.” She wasn’t fine but nothing at the grocery store would help with what ailed her.

“Alex?”

“Some beer,” he said and then looked guiltily at his Dad.

“Go ahead, you rotten kid,” Bob said with a smile. “You’ll have plenty of chances to be abstinent when you are old and overweight.”

“I’ll be back shortly.”

Blue went with me. She loves the market. It was an off hour, so there were few people in the store. I noticed the Valentines on the card aisle were very picked over, but dawdlers can’t be choosers, so I found one that wasn’t too nauseating to give to Alex.

Lines were short. Only Mrs. Winkler was ahead of me. I wasn’t being nosy, but we were close and I watched with fascination as Mrs. Winkler wrote her check, drawing each letter with artistic care.

What with the heart attack and the wedding, the investigation had become just so much white noise in the background, but I hadn’t forgotten it entirely. And now, as a consolation prize from the gods, I had found my poster maker. And our saboteur.

“Mrs. Winkler, we need to have a talk,” I said quietly.

“Chloe?” She blinked nervously. “What about?”

“About chalk and space heaters and the evil that men— and women— do.”