Going to the Chapel (20 page)

Jerry smiles. “They’re Norwegian women. Viking stock. They’re tough.”

I nod. “That’s the way they always seemed—until now.”

I rise and Jerry follows. We start to walk to the door that leads out to the courtyard.

“How are you set for money and all?” I ask when we get to the door. I can’t believe I’m making this offer. “I’m getting paid on Friday and I could—”

Jerry waves the offer away as he opens the door.
“I got a couple of weeks of severance pay. I’m good for now.”

I walk through the open door. “Maybe you could go into business for yourself around here.”

“Hollywood doesn’t need more mechanics.”

“There are other things you can do,” I say as Jerry closes the door behind us.

“Maybe,” Jerry says as he looks around the courtyard. “Measuring everything here was fun. I don’t suppose there’s a job in it, though.”

“When this is all over, we should talk about jobs,” I say.

Jerry nods, but I can see he thinks I’ll be telling him to work in the fast-food business so he doesn’t seem too excited. That’s all right, I decide. We’ve got time later.

The sun is beginning to set and the light from the west is turning the pale beige stone of the courtyard into a more golden hue. Here and there clumps of ivy are climbing up the walls and there are enough roses along the edge of the paved area to make the air fragrant.

“If we could only keep people out here,” Jerry says. “They’d never suspect it is a mortuary inside.”

“Oh, but they wouldn’t want to miss seeing the chapel.”

“I know. It’s the hallway between the two places that will give us problems.”

Jerry is right. That hallway leads to all the rooms where the Big M does the funeral part of its work. The largest room there is where the caskets are on display. From golden-brushed bronze to solid cherrywood, the caskets at the Big M are a sight to behold.

I was a little freaked out by that room when I was
first at the Big M, but I’m okay with it now. Mr. Z even showed me that most of the caskets have an adjustable bed in them so the final viewing can be better. I don’t even have an adjustable bed in my room at Aunt Inga’s. It seems odd to think that I’d sleep in better comfort if I were dead than in Blythe.

I don’t know if most people know about the bed thing, but I’m sure Elaine would be upset if she wandered in there thinking it was the room where the bride changes into her dress when, instead, it’s where the corpse changes into its burial clothes. Well, of course, the corpse doesn’t change by itself.

“We’ll lock the room that has the caskets,” I say. “We’ll have that master key that Miss Billings gave us to use tonight so we can lock off any of the rooms.”

Miss Billings told me once that all of the rooms at the Big M used to have different keys, but that the jangle of keys from the loaded key chains the staff carried disturbed the mourners so Mr. Z had all the doors fitted onto one master key. He felt it made the staff people look more in charge when they were showing clients around, which was something very comforting to mourners, he always said. The bereaved wanted to know everything was in good hands and that they didn’t need to worry.

“And the room with all the files. We’ll lock that.” No one would freak out about the files, but I feel they are a sacred trust. I wouldn’t want a stray guest wandering in there and looking through them.

“Of course,” Jerry agrees.

“We’ll have to keep the lounge areas open.” The lounge areas lead to the restrooms and there is nothing
in either of the rooms that would make people think they were in a mortuary instead of a church. At least, not in the women’s restrooms.

“Nobody has scratched Lincoln Died Here on the walls of the men’s room, have they?”

Jerry shook his head. “It’s strictly boring in there.”

“Good. And the kitchen that’s off the main viewing room—we’ll need to have that open for the caterers,” I say. The kitchen was there when the Big M was a church and Mr. Z left it the way it was. That’s where the staff keep their lunches now when they bring something from home.

Jerry and I are quiet for a moment, thinking of all the things that need to be done and breathing in the scent of the roses.

“I’ll ask Miss Billings about caterers tomorrow,” I say.

We’re quiet some more.

“Do you think we have a chance to pull it off?” Jerry finally asks.

I shrug. “I’m going to tell the aunts that the Big M is a mortuary when we have some of the details figured out. Probably tomorrow will be the day. That gives them a day before they make their calls to people about the new location. I think we can keep the guests from knowing this is a mortuary, but I’ll let the aunts make the decision. I guess, if need be, Elaine can always do the cruise.”

Jerry nods. “Or maybe that Chinese restaurant.”

We hear voices calling our names and realize that Cassie and Doug are here.

“We’re in the courtyard,” I call out to them as I walk to the opening that goes from the courtyard to the
front yard area. I see Cassie and Doug crossing the lawn from where they were by the front door to the Big M.

“I forgot to bring the candles,” Jerry says as he leaves his duffel on one of the benches in the courtyard and walks back toward the rear door of the mortuary. “I left them in the chapel.”

Cassie and Doug come into the courtyard just as Jerry walks back into the building. I happen to notice that Cassie’s eyes go to Jerry the first thing.

Doug is carrying his backpack and he reaches in and pulls out a brown bag that he sets on the wrought iron table next to where we’re standing in the courtyard. There are two tables like this one and twenty or so portable round tables in the supply room.

“How was it today?” Cassie asks me.

“Okay, and you?”

“I have some more plants to pick up when Jerry has time,” Cassie says.

I nod. “I’m glad Jerry is here. It’s good. You know he’s changed a lot since we were kids.”

There, I’ve said my bit to show Cassie that it’s okay with me if she’s interested in Jerry.

“He is nice,” Cassie says and gives a smile. “I like him.”

“I thought you might,” I say with a smile back.

In the meantime, Doug has pulled out four wrapped turkey sandwiches and four oranges from the brown bag and set them on the table. Just then Jerry gets back with a few candles.

The sun is almost gone by the time we light the candles and, I must say, the courtyard is very romantic
by candlelight. Jerry has these small metal candle-holders and he places four candles in the center of the table.

One of the candles goes out, however, and he frowns as he examines it and then decides he needs another one. Before he goes back to the chapel to get another one from the pile he has there, he goes to his duffel bag and pulls out a flashlight.

“From my detective kit,” Jerry announces with a flourish as he holds the small blue flashlight up. It’s plastic and its beam is feeble, but it does give off enough light to see.

“Just what we need,” Cassie says as she reaches up and takes the flashlight when Jerry gives it to her.

“You can carry it inside,” Jerry says. “If you want to come with me.”

Cassie holds the flashlight and the two of them head back through the rear door of the mortuary. They don’t even get to the door of the mortuary before Jerry puts his arm around Cassie.

It’s funny how them going off like that, arm in arm, suddenly turns this into a serious date instead of a casual date where four people are just getting together to have a sandwich. They might even share a kiss in there. I look over at Doug.

“I didn’t know they were going to do that,” I say. I’m not sure if he’s still afraid I might want a commitment from him or not. “I think they’ve just discovered they like each other.”

“Lucky them,” Doug says.

I relax. Doug doesn’t sound stressed or anything. I can tell because his voice sounds normal.

“So, how’s it going with the homework?” I say because it’s something to ask.

“I looked up John 3:16,” he says. “You know, after Jerry made such a big deal out of it.”

“Jerry likes to tease me.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

We sit and watch the candle flames for a few minutes.

“I got some waters in my backpack, too,” Doug finally says. “I almost brought some bottles of flavored waters.”

“No, plain water is good.”

We’re quiet for a few more minutes.

“Can I ask you something?” Doug says as he lifts his backpack onto the table and opens it up.

“Sure.”

“What do you have against God?” Doug pulls out two water bottles and sets them on the table.

“Oh, well.” I swallow and look at the rear door of the mortuary, hoping it will open and Jerry and Cassie will step out so this conversation will be derailed. After a second or two, though, when nothing has happened, I decide it is a fair question. “God sort of messed up my life when I was a kid.”

Doug has set the water bottles down and is looking at me. “I’m listening.”

“You know about my mother leaving me in Blythe when she moved to Las Vegas.” I feel a little funny saying that to him when his parents both were killed in a car accident.

“So you think God was mad at you?”

I nod. “Something like that. I just figured He didn’t like me much.” And for good measure, I add, “Besides, he let my father die when I was little, too. I never even
got to know him. It didn’t seem like it’s fair that I couldn’t have either one of my parents.”

Doug holds up his hands. “You don’t have to convince me. I can see why you would be mad at God.”

“Really?” Now that’s not the response I expected. “Of course, you know what it feels like.”

I’m glad Doug understands. Something is bothering me however. “I notice it didn’t stop you, though. You just walked down that aisle.”

Doug shrugs as he reaches into his backpack for the other two bottles of water. “We’re all different. I might have felt like you did if I had known about God when I was a kid. Maybe not knowing Him gave me very low expectations. I don’t think I ever expected Him to do anything for me back then. I bet He was sorry you were mad at Him, though.”

I open my bottle of water and take a drink. It never occurred to me to think of this from God’s point of view before. All of this working around death is making me crazy. If I’m not careful, I won’t have any of my enemies left. I’ve already caved on Jerry and I’m going soft on Elaine. If I make my peace with God—well, what would my life be like then? I take another drink of water. Wow. I need to think for a minute.

When Cassie and Jerry walk out of the mortuary, they are holding hands. At least both of them have their hands on the flashlight and they are swinging it around as if it’s a light saber. I forgot they were both
Star Wars
fans.

“Don’t blind us with that thing,” I say when they point it at Doug and me. In truth, the beam is so feeble
it wouldn’t blind anything, but I’ve grumbled at Jerry all my life. “You’ll spoil our force field.”

They laugh as they walk closer.

“Oh, I had forgotten how beautiful that shepherd is in the stained glass window,” Cassie says as she sits down on one of the chairs around the table. “Jerry turned the back light on so the light would shine through.”

I nod. “That’s one thing that will be memorable about the wedding. Assuming Aunt Ruth doesn’t want to cover it up.”

“Why would she—” Jerry begins and then stops.

“Farm animal,” I say and he nods.

“But it’s a little lamb,” Cassie protests.

“Aunt Ruth doesn’t like farm animals,” I say.

“They smell,” Jerry adds.

“Well, of course they smell,” Cassie says indignantly. “They’re farm animals.”

We spend the next few minutes trying to decide what to do if Aunt Ruth absolutely refuses to have Elaine’s wedding take place in the presence of a farm animal.

Finally Doug says. “If she’s okay with the dead bodies around here, I wouldn’t think she’d complain about a stained glass lamb.”

That stops us all short. He’s right, of course. The rest of us have almost forgotten about the Big M being a mortuary. I wonder if that is wishful thinking or just the natural beauty of the place lulling us into forgetfulness.

Doug passes around the sandwiches and we eat them as we discuss various options for the wedding. Jerry mentions calling hotels in downtown Los Angeles and Cassie mentions the tearoom at the Huntington Gardens, which we decide would be too small.

There’s really nothing for it, but for me to tell the aunts about the Big M and leave it to them to decide what to do. Now that Jerry has his measurements, I can give those to Aunt Ruth at the same time I tell her. Maybe if I get her all involved in the numbers of how far everything is from everything, she won’t notice when I mention that the place is really a very nice mortuary.

I take another deep breath. I’ll have to be sure and mention the roses again.

W
hen I wake up on Friday morning, I am surprised that there are no sounds in the apartment. For the past few mornings, I have woken up either to the sound of someone talking in the living room or someone crying in the bedroom. Today it’s nice to just hear the sounds of the cars on the street outside and the clank of the garbage trucks as they empty the trash bins in the parking lot.

I am lying on the air mattress in Cassie’s room and she is curled up on her bed sound asleep. The light is just starting to rise and some of that clear morning sun is shining through the glass in the places where the blind does not meet the edge of the window. It makes thin stripes on everything: Cassie’s blue fuzzy bathrobe that is hanging on a hook on the open door of her closet; the English flower calendar that she has tacked above her dresser; and the huge ficus plant that she moved to her bedroom last night so there would be space in the living room to fold out the Hide-A-Bed for Jerry.

I try to talk myself into feeling strong today. I need to talk to the aunts this morning and it’s not a task I’m looking forward to. So, I do some mental pumping and try to picture myself saying something so smoothly that neither aunt is upset. It doesn’t work—I can’t even think of what I will say, smooth or unsmooth—so eventually I just get up and give a quiet knock on the door separating the living room and the bedroom.

Jerry whispers that I can come in.

The first place I head to is the counter so that I can start the coffee. We set the pot up last night so really all I have to do is press a button to turn it on. Then I head to the bathroom to wash up.

After I come out of the bathroom, all combed and scrubbed, I slip into the bedroom and change into some jeans and a sweater, all the while taking care to not wake Cassie. The alarm isn’t set to go off for another twenty minutes.

When I go back out into the main room, Jerry is just coming out of the bathroom wearing one of his brown T-shirts and a clean pair of jeans.

Jerry tells me he’s decided he’s done all of the measuring that he can at the Big M and he’s going to see if he can find any clues about Cassie’s mom today.

I look at the closed bedroom door and speak quietly. “Does Cassie know you’re going to do that?”

He shakes his head as he puts two slices of bread into the toaster. “I thought I’d see what I can find out before I say anything to her. There might not be any way for me to find anything, but I’d like to try. Cassie said her mom used to live in Los Angeles.”

There are a few cups of coffee in the pot so I get some mugs from the cupboard.

Yikes. There’s a loud pounding at the door and I almost drop one of the mugs.

“Open up. The police.” A male voice calls out.

“What?” I squeak out as I put the mugs on the counter.

“Don’t answer that,” Cassie whispers from where she stands in the doorway to the bedroom. She’s got her robe on, but not her glasses and she is squinting at me. She just got up. “It could be a trick.”

“There’s a man in here,” I call out since we’ve already made enough noise to tell whoever is on the other side of our door that someone is home and I’m hoping a show of force will prevent any trouble.

“Yes,” Jerry adds and he makes his voice even deeper than it is so he sounds like a wrestler.

“It’s all right, girls,” we hear Mrs. Snyder say. “I checked their IDs for you. They really are the police.”

Okay, now that’s not right. I step over, unlock the door and open it.

“You shouldn’t be out here, either,” I scold Mrs. Snyder who is standing there holding a black wallet. I try to avoid looking at the two men who are standing in the hall next to her. They are dressed in police uniforms and Mrs. Snyder is in her fuzzy purple robe with her hair in curlers. “Besides, anyone can get a fake identification card. Police don’t go knocking on doors at this time of the morning.”

One of the policemen cleared his throat. “We’re here to see Jerry.”

Now that stops me. “
Our
Jerry?”

“We have someone watching the fire escape,” the policeman adds in a voice loud enough to carry inside Cassie’s apartment. “There’s no way out.”

“Is it the plants?” I say. I know Cassie has those plants sitting on the fire escape landing outside her window. Maybe the policemen think she’s growing something illegal out there. “They’re all just houseplants.”

“May we come in?” the policeman who has been doing the talking asks.

I hear the phone ringing inside the apartment so I figure they may as well come in while I answer it. I’ll leave the door to the hallway open just in case, though. “Mrs. Snyder has the number for the police, and if she hears anything funny in here, she’ll be on the phone.”

“That’s right,” the older woman says, but she makes no move to go back to her own apartment. In fact, she follows the policemen right into this apartment so I’m not sure how much help she would be if these men turned out to be bad guys.

The phone is right by the door so I grab for it. “Hello.”

“Julie? Is that you?”

“Aunt Inga,” I say, wishing I’d thought for a minute before I answered that phone. Aunt Inga will only worry if she knows we have policemen at our door at this hour of the morning. Things like this don’t happen in Blythe.

I can see the policemen looking around Cassie’s apartment. They have their hands on their gun holsters as though they might need to be ready for action.

“Aunt Inga, can I call you back?” I say.

“So, which one of you is Jerry?” one of the policemen says as he looks back and forth between Jerry and Cassie.

“It’s a man’s name,” Jerry says as if he’s offended the man can’t pin him down in an instant. “It comes from Gerald.”

“So, it’s you,” the other policeman says as he eyes Jerry carefully. “We would like to ask you some questions.”

I hear Aunt Inga’s gasp and realize I haven’t hung up yet.

“Who is questioning Jerry?” Aunt Inga asks.

“Just a minute.” I put my hand over the speaker on the phone and say to those in the room, “That gun he has is a toy gun. It might look real, but it came inside his Greatest Detectives of the World kit. It’s made for little kids to play with.”

The policemen look at me as if I’m nuts.

“Oh, so it’s a game,” Aunt Inga says, sounding more relieved than she should.

I look at my hand. I thought I had covered the phone well enough so Aunt Inga wouldn’t hear anything.

“Don’t worry about anything,” I say into the phone. She probably just heard a word or two of what is happening. “I’ll call you later.”

“Have a fun time,” Aunt Inga says as if everything is right in the world.

I hang up and turn to the policemen. “The gun’s plastic. Jerry can show you. For that matter, I can show you.”

I look around for Jerry’s duffel bag and see it over by the sofa.

The policeman standing closest to Jerry turns to him and says, “We want to know about the note you left at 1802 San Rafael Road in Palm Springs.”

“Oh,” I say.

“I thought a dog ate that,” Jerry says as the policeman holds up a white paper bag carefully flattened inside two flat pieces of plastic. The bag does look as though it’s been tossed around so maybe a dog did have it in its mouth at one point.

“So you admit you wrote the note,” the policeman says. The policeman turns the bag so we can see the black letters on one side.

“But it doesn’t mean anything,” I say. The police are obviously not worried about the diet of some mangy dog. I’m beginning to get the picture here and I don’t think I like what the police are thinking. Jerry might be a bit dense at times, but he’s not a criminal. “He was just trying to impress the woman who was the wedding planner.”

“The one who took the money?” the policeman says as if he doesn’t believe me.

I shrug. “Well, he’s not interested anymore, of course.”

“I never was all that interested. I was just being nice,” Jerry says. “There’s no crime in that.”

The policeman talking doesn’t look as if he believes Jerry. “We need to take you in for questioning related to the theft.”

“Can’t he just answer your questions here?” I say. “He didn’t do anything, you know. He’d never mess up Elaine’s wedding. In fact, he’s spending his days trying to make it all go smoothly. You can ask Aunt Ruth. She has him measuring the aisle in the chapel.”

The two policemen look at each other and then back at Jerry. “What’s your last name?”

“You don’t even know his full name?” I ask. “How did you find him?”

“Reverse directory,” Cassie says from where she’s standing beside the bedroom door. “From the telephone number he left for Mona.”

“Ransen,” Jerry says. “But my mother’s last name is Nilsen. She’s Aunt Ruth’s sister.”

“Ruth?” the policeman prompts.

“Ruth Torrance.”

The two policemen look at each other. Finally, one of them looks at Jerry again. “Did you set this whole thing up with the wedding planner? Maybe she wasn’t turning sweet enough on you and you thought you’d make it worth her while to pay a little attention to you? After all, you were at your aunt’s place. You could have met Mona and given her information on the sly.”

Okay, now I’m getting alarmed. “He wouldn’t do that. Ask anyone.” I look around. “Ask Cassie.”

“He wouldn’t do it,” Cassie says emphatically.

The policeman doesn’t look convinced. “Lots of crime happens between family members.”

“Not in our family,” I say. We’ve never even talked about stealing from each other. I can’t imagine it has entered anyone’s mind. We might have our problems, but criminal activity is not one of them. “Call Aunt Ruth if you don’t believe us.”

I hold the phone out to the policeman. “Her number is on that Post-it note on the cupboard door there.”

Okay, so I’m bluffing a little. I don’t think he’s going to call Aunt Ruth and ask for a reference for Jerry. I’m having a hard time thinking of ways to keep
Jerry out of trouble, though. I know if this had happened a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t even blink an eye if Jerry was hauled off to jail. I wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer in jail for a long time, but I wouldn’t have felt that I would miss him if he were someplace else for a month or so. Now, his troubles are my troubles.

I give a deep sigh. I’m turning so soft I don’t recognize myself.

The policeman takes the Post-it note off the cupboard door. “I’ll make the call in the hall. Remember, someone’s watching all the exits.”

“He’s not going to escape,” I snap at the policeman as he leaves the room.

“Not with someone guarding the fire escape,” Jerry says, with a touch of humor.

“You find this funny?” I look at Jerry and demand an answer. Here I am sweating over keeping him out of jail and he’s making jokes.

“No,” Jerry says but he grins anyway. “I just never knew you’d stand by me like this.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have to stand by you. You should have the sense to stay out of trouble.”

I say the words before I realize I am the one saying them. Me! Miss Toppler! Something’s wrong when I am scolding people for getting into trouble. I’m supposed to be the tumbler, not the scolder.

The door to Cassie’s apartment opens and the policeman comes back inside. He still has his cell phone in his hand and he looks at Jerry. “Well, Mrs. Torrance vouches for you. She said you didn’t know enough about everything to help the wedding planner anyway.
She thought it sounded about right for you to be chasing after the wedding planner with the note, too. So I guess we’ll just get a statement here about what you know.” The policeman starts to slip his cell phone back in its case attached to his belt and he looks around. “Okay, you’re Julie, right?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Your Aunt Ruth wants you to call her. Right away.”

I nod. There is no way to escape this one. The only good thing is that I needed to call Aunt Ruth today anyway so maybe I’ll be able to mention that the chapel everyone is talking about for Elaine’s wedding is part of a mortuary. Maybe she’ll be so relieved about Jerry not being in trouble with the law that she won’t be upset that the usual clients at the Big M are dead. It’s all about perspective.

I grab my cell phone out of my purse and go out into the hall. The policemen are huddled around Jerry and asking him questions so I figure I may as well call Aunt Ruth now. I have to go to work soon and, since she’s already up, I may as well get this conversation behind me.

The hallway is cold, but I lean against the wall next to Cassie’s door anyway and flip open my cell phone.

“Is Jerry all right?” Aunt Ruth asks when she hears my voice. “I can’t imagine the police would think he’d steal a dime from me. He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah,” I say. “They’re going to ask him some questions, but that’s all.”

“Good,” Aunt Ruth says. “I told that policeman he was way off base.”

“I’m sorry you had to know about this,” I add. “I
know you’re already under a lot of stress with the wedding.”

Aunt Ruth snorts. “Not anymore. When I heard what Gary’s mother wanted to do, I said to myself it’s time to take action.”

“Oh.”

“She thinks she can squeeze me out of the wedding when I’m the mother of the bride. Well, I don’t think so. That’s not right.”

I smile. Aunt Ruth is back. “No, it’s not.”

“Our family might not have the kind of money they do, but we know proper behavior when we see it. We can show them what a wedding should be like. Can you believe they didn’t want Howard and me on the cruise? We’re Elaine’s parents.”

“I know,” I begin. “But there are many places to have the wedding. For instance—”

“As if there could be a cruise so wonderful that Elaine wouldn’t need her mother and father at her wedding.” Aunt Ruth speaks without listening to me. “We gave birth to her. We should be at her wedding. What are these people thinking? I mean, it’s different if it’s the honeymoon. I understand that. I don’t expect to go on the honeymoon.”

“Well, no,” I begin again. “But speaking of places for the wedding—”

“Don’t you worry any. I’m so glad we have your help. Your chapel might be simple, but we can make something out of it. Just see if we don’t.”

Okay, so there doesn’t seem to be an easy way to do this.