Mustard on Top (27 page)

Exhausted, Helen moseyed down the boardwalk toward Hot Diggitys. Overcast skies, spitting out drizzle, kept the temperature cool. It was 11:30 and a line snaked a block down the boardwalk. A woman sitting with perfect posture at the counter caught Helen’s eye. She wore a bright, white, sleeveless pantsuit. Although obviously mature, she was fit and had short, light brown hair.

“Agatha?” Helen asked in shock as she drew close.

“What do you think?” Agatha slid off the stool and walked toward Helen while patting her hair. Agatha’s hair had been transformed from a black-and-white bun to an ash-blonde bob. The neckline of the white top plunged showing off her Marilyn Monroe cleavage.

Helen had a hard time finding her voice. “You look… sensational.”

“Thank you.” Agatha pranced in a circle as the drizzle started up again.

Theo pushed a tray across the counter to a nearby customer. “What’s Theo doing here? He’s not scheduled to work,” Helen said.

“I called him in,”—Agatha weaved her arm through Helen’s—“because we have business to discuss.”

Helen ire bubbled. When Helen glanced at the line, Agatha said, “Don’t worry about the customers. I called Sven in too.” Helen thought of pulling out of Agatha’s grasp, but didn’t want to make a scene. “Come, come.” Agatha tugged her away. “They’ll be fine. I timed them, and their turn-around is good.”

They walked out of earshot, before Helen pulled away, and spun to face Agatha. “What on earth is going on?”

“It’s so wonderful.” Agatha clapped her hands together.

Helen blinked at Agatha’s foreign behavior and asked, “What is?”

“Here, sit.” Agatha stepped off the boardwalk toward the beach. When she hit sand, Agatha sat. In her white pantsuit.

Helen stared, wondering what transformation had taken place. Sex. Had to be.

“Don’t stand there gaping, get down here.” Agatha patted the sand.

Not wanting to get her pants wet, Helen squatted. “I’m guessing you and Moe are getting along?”

Agatha howled with laughter. “Are we ever. Whooo-weee.”

Helen decided she liked the old, predictable Agatha better. “It doesn’t sound like you’re being careful anymore.”

“Don’t be silly, I can’t get pregnant.”

Embarrassed, Helen broke eye contact, that wasn’t what she’d meant. “So what did we need to discuss?”

“Well,” Agatha picked up a stick. “Remember the proposition I had for you about becoming an investor?”

Helen didn’t want to talk about changing her business. She’d put the idea off hoping Agatha would forget. “Yeah. I’m having a hard time—”

Agatha held up a hand. “Wait. There’s more.”

“What?”

“We have a new investor lined up.”

Agatha’s pants had to be getting soaked and maybe even stained. “An investor? But I thought we had plenty of… capital,” Helen said remembering the term Agatha used. Helen’s legs burned from squatting, so she let her knees drop into the sand and sat back on her heels.

Agatha smiled. “You can never have too much capital, dear. Besides those DerFoodle Dogs are going to put Hot Diggitys on the map.” Agatha giggled then drew a heart in the sand with a stick.

“Uh, Agatha? About those DerFoodle Dogs, I’m not making any more. Once they run out, they’ll be gone.”

“Don’t be silly. I want to apply for a patent on that recipe. You’ve created something unique and very marketable.”

“Are you listening? I refuse to make more. Agatha, those hot dogs—they’re like drugs. They make your body react—strangely.”

“Really? Strangely how?” Agatha peered at Helen sideways as a grin split her face.

Helen narrowed her eyes. “You’ve known all along. That explains a few things.”

“Now, now dear. Don’t get your dander up.” Agatha patted her leg. “Personally, I’m a fan of those hot dogs.”

Helen found the admission disturbing. “Don’t tell me Moe is your new investor?”

Agatha smiled.

“Did you forget he wants to kill your son and scam you out of your late husband’s life-insurance policy?”

“Well if you describe him that way, he doesn’t sound so great.”

Helen’s stomach ached. “Tell me you’re joking. Please.”

“It’s a long story, but hear me out. Everything will make sense.”

Helen wanted to shake the older woman. “You don’t even care that your beautiful pantsuit is getting stained? What has he done to you?”

“Is it?” Agatha twisted to examine her butt. “I believe you’re right.” She climbed to her feet and began wiping her backside.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Helen stood too. “You would never have sat on wet sand in a white outfit before.”

“Anyway.” Agatha refused to be derailed. “You remember I was trying to gather evidence on him. Well I did. I have so much evidence, Helen, Matlock would be proud.” Agatha beamed.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Remember when he took me out on that first date? The day his cronies tied up Jeremy and put that bucket on his foot?” Agatha tilted her head. “By the way, how was Jeremy when he entered Healing Meadows?”

Jeremy had become a secondary thought?
More normal than you.
“Good. The most cordial I’ve ever seen him I think.”

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of him, Helen. What a relief to know he’s in rehab.”

“I agree.” Helen liked seeing Agatha talking about Jeremy with affection, but the line at Hot Diggitys had grown. “I should get back.”

“Let me finish. Please.”

Helen sighed. “Go ahead.”

Alarmed, Helen listened as Agatha recounted her and Moe’s chess game of a courtship. Agatha had bugged his car, while his thugs searched her house and broke her mirror. She’d pulled a gun on Moe’ then he’d tied her up. They ate DerFoodle dogs, after which, she’d drugged him and tied him up. She sent his thugs packing and eventually they came to a loving truce.

Helen stared, unsure how to respond ,when Agatha leaned toward her and whispered, “To tell you the truth, I’ve been having the time of my life.”

Helen’s Agatha-loves-Moe tolerance hit a new low. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“I didn’t know you had such a lust for danger,” Helen said making Agatha laugh.

The headache pounding behind her eyes was in full-bloom and Helen pinched the bridge of her nose. “What makes you think Moe won’t turn around and kill you?”

Agatha deflected the question with the flick of her hand. “Won’t happen.”

“Moe’s got you under some kind of loony spell.”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me. Everything is under control.”

“You’re anything but under control, Agatha.”

Squaring her shoulders, Agatha said, “You need to trust me on this.”

Helen guffawed. “I trust you and your good intentions. I don’t trust Moe.”

“Moe and I have a lot in common.”

“You have a lot in common with a hit man? Are you listening to yourself?”

Agatha’s features softened. “He’s not a hit man, he’s a venture capitalist—”

“I recall, you had some other choice words to describe him before.”

“For your information, I had a lawyer draw up a contract. I am protected, and if anything happens to me or my assets, Moe will be in prison so fast his head will spin. He’s probably scared half to death I’ll die of natural causes.”

“If you trust him so much, why the contract. You’re being hypocritical.”

“It’s nothing more than a pre-nup.”

“You’re marrying him?” Helen was horrified.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Agatha’s smile softened. “It’s like a pre-nup, a precautionary measure. That’s all.”

“Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Helen, you’re incapable of making me angry,” Agatha said. “You’re good to the core. Helen,”—Agatha touched Helen’s shoulder—”I think Moe and I are soul mates.”

“You’re raving mad.”

“But back to the point. Investors—”

Helen cut her off. “I don’t want his dirty money. Period. End of story.”

“He’s walking away from his life of crime. He’s making a clean start.”

“You can’t change a person, Agatha.”

“No, but a person can choose to change himself.” Agatha’s tone challenged her. “If you don’t believe that’s possible, why’d you take Jeremy to rehab?”

It was an argument Helen couldn’t win. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“He wanted me to join him in his life of crime. He likes my ‘prowess.’ His word.”

“You’re becoming a thug?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, no. How could you even think such a thing? I told you, he’s going legitimate.”

Helen threw her hands in the air. “I’m sorry, Agatha. This is too distressing. I don’t like Moe becoming part of your life, and I won’t allow him near my business. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do.” Helen started for Hot Diggitys.

“I left some documents on your desk,” Agatha called after her. “They are for an I.P.O. You should read them.”

I.P.O?
Helen didn’t want to know.

Even with the drooling sky, Hot Diggitys stayed busy beyond the lunch rush. Around 3:00 p.m. the line had shrunk to five people.

“Mom.”

Helen turned toward Theo. “What?”

“Go eat something.” He sounded furious.

“Fine.” She’d been careless with her health lately, and Theo probably had a right to be angry, but still the depth of his reprimand stung.

After assigning Emma to the register, Helen poured herself an iced-tea then made a spinach, olive, tomato, and cheese salad. She missed having fresh avocados then decided, the heck with Agatha and the highest profit possible, she’d put the AvocaDOG back on the menu. Money wasn’t everything.

After toasting a whole-wheat hot dog bun, she retreated to her office for a few minutes of peace and quiet.

Her reprieve was arrested by the manila package labeled
Hot Diggitys’ IPO
that sat atop her desk. She set her tea and plate on the proposal using it as a placemat. Helen let the clatter of Hot Diggitys drain away as she stabbed at her salad and munched her hot dog bun. Fifteen minutes of peace would have to recharge her batteries. She drank the tea in successive gulps then decided against refilling it. If she left the office, she might not get back to finish her meal.

Halfway through her salad, a knock on the door made her jump. With her hand over her full mouth, she called, “Come in.”

The door opened, Ben stepped through, and closed the door behind him leaning against it. There was barely room for one person, much less two. Helen scooted back in her chair until she hit the wall and still they were still less than two feet apart.

Ben’s downturned mouth and dark eyes put Helen on alert.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk,” Ben said.

First Agatha then Ben. The dichotomy between the two was startling. Agatha wanted to make Hot Diggitys an international sensation; while Ben acted as if she and her life in Nalley were disposable. She wanted to dispose of them both. “Sorry, You’ll need to wait until after my shift.” Helen skewered a tomato.

“Theo’s not going to college because he doesn’t want to leave you alone,” Ben blurted.

Helen’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. “What did you say?”

“Theo’s not going to college because he doesn’t want to leave you alone.” Ben enunciated each word clearly. “He decided to Emerson College after he saw me in your bed and thought that I’d be staying in Nalley with you.”

Helen’s heart slammed in her chest. “What are you talking about?”

Ben sighed. “Theo thinks you need looking after. For health reasons.”

“Huh?” She’d heard his words, but he didn’t make sense.

Ben took a deep breath. “Theo wants to go to college, but isn’t because he thinks you need a caretaker.”

The fork fell from Helen’s hand, clanking on her plate.

“Since he saw us together in your bed, he thought I’d be staying here and would take care of you.”

Tears sprang to Helen’s eyes and she sipped her empty tea.

“He registered for college yesterday.”

She was the cause of Theo’s forgoing college? Ludicrous, yet she conceded, possible. “I don’t need either one of you taking care of me.”

“I want to, Helen.”

“You want to what?”

“I want to stay with you, to take care of you.”

Ben knelt so he was at eye level, and Helen pressed her back into her chair. “Now I know you and the whole damn world has gone off the deep end,” Helen said.

“If I don’t, if you don’t let me, Theo might scrap college.”

Her office walls seemed to be closing in on her. “What are you proposing?”

“I’m proposing that I move in with you, that we get married.”

Helen coughed then tried for another drink. She had to settle for chewing on ice. “I think you’ve got things bass-ackwards. The trend is to stay together for the kid’s sake when they are little then divorce when they go to college. Not the other way around.”

“I can live with you or we can buy a different house here in Nalley if you want. Maybe have a quickie wedding.”

Everything was wrong: Ben’s resolute stare, his tone of voice. His proposition was about his guilt and finally acting like a father.
Forget Ben, forget me, this is about Theo
, Helen reminded herself.

Had Theo had taken on responsibility for her health? She’d been oblivious, and the idea sickened her. She’d worked to give Theo a carefree life, to learn he spent time fretting over her was like being struck in the gut. The reprimand Theo had given her minutes earlier, rang in her mind. Helen wanted to kick herself, instead she lashed out at Ben.

“What gets me, Ben Smiley, is you’re acting like your presence in our life is some kind of prize. That we should grab tight with both hands and be flattered you’ve decided to grace us by showing your face.”

From the expression on Ben’s face, Helen thought she’d stabbed him with her fork.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Ben Smiley had always been given people’s respect and love before he’d earned it. The real Ben, the cowardly one, had run. “You’ve always been the golden boy.”

Ben stood, hovering over her. “I’ll grant you, I’ve led a privileged life compared to yours, but I thought we were beyond the past.”

Helen expected him to leave, but he didn’t.

“Our son is out there.” He pointed. “Hoping to go to college, so what are we going to do?”

Helen’s chest tightened. She had to focus on what was important. “I would do anything to make sure Theo doesn’t spend his life topping hot dogs with condiments,” Helen said. “I know he wants more, and if faking some kind of a relationship will get him into college then I’ll do it. But we don’t need to get married.”

Ben held out his hand, “Partners?”