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Authors: Tallulah Anne Scott

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BOOK: NOT What I Was Expecting
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I was giving CeCe
the ‘just go with me on this’ stare that we always gave each other when we
found it necessary to fabricate or embellish and needed the other one to back
us up.  It always worked, but CeCe was about to ruin our perfect record.  I
would never again be able to say it always worked.

“What?  Luke in
college?” CeCe asked, obviously confused.  I crossed my fingers that her response
could be classified as distracted by worry for Fry.  Unfortunately, CeCe wanted
to concentrate on something else (like the rest of us) and decided to seize on
this as her escape.  “What Luke in college?  There was no Luke in college.”

I gave her the
bug-eyed stare with my lips pressed together so hard, it probably looked as if
I didn’t own any lips.  After a couple of seconds of that message, I relaxed,
smiled again, and picked up where I’d left off.  “Oh, wow.  I thought I was
getting old, but I guess the dementia is hitting you first, huh?  You remember
Luke?  From college?  Who I dated?  Before we broke up?”

The bug-eyed stare
never fails, and at least I can count on
that
old reliable.

“Oh, LUKE from
COLLEGE.  Yeah, I remember him,” CeCe lied and turned to Luke.  “He was so in
love with Maggie, you know, until they broke up.  Good times.” 

CeCe looked from
Luke to me.  I blushed and jumped up.  “Who needs more coffee?  And nobody
touched the sandwiches I made.  You guys can’t live on coffee alone.  You’ll
get sick, now eat.”  I slipped into the kitchen to refill my coffee, thankful I
couldn’t tell what the voices in the living room were saying to each other.

As I stood at the
kitchen window and gazed out at the beautiful day, completely lost in thought,
Luke came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.  “CeCe wants to talk to
you about your mothers,” he said softly, taking the coffeepot I didn’t realize
I was still holding and placing it back on the coffeemaker.

“Oh, okay. 
Thanks,” I said and started back toward the living room.

“Uh, Maggie,” Luke
called before I made it to the kitchen door. 

Now, I panicked. 
He knew.  Of course he knew.  He wasn’t an idiot.  He knew there was no Luke in
college.  He knew all that stuff I said to him when I was drunk was probably
what I was actually thinking but never would have said without that stupid Long
Island Ice Tea.  Why don’t they just call it truth serum, and be done with it. 
Same result.  Why didn’t I pay more attention?  Why did I have to prove to him
I could party like everyone else, end up proving exactly the opposite, and
round out the evening by spilling my guts in the process, both literally and
figuratively.  Now he probably wants to let me down easy.  Explain how with
everything going on he isn’t in a
relationshipy
place right now.  Fine,
let’s just get it over with.

“What?” I turned
to face him and tried not to wince.  I was determined I was going to take it
like a grown up.  Be brave.  Be strong.  Fry was really all that mattered right
now anyway, so there was nothing Luke could say or do to hurt me.  I was ready.

“Your coffee,”
Luke reminded me, as he handed me the coffee cup I had walked away from and
left on the counter. 

“Oh.  Thanks,” I
said as I took my mug and headed out of the kitchen.  Let me just say I’m so
glad he’s not one of those vampire-mind-readers, because that would be so
embarrassing.

 

“The sisters?” I
squealed at CeCe before I sat back down.  “What’s wrong?  Are they okay?  Did
something . . . ?”

“Take it easy,”
CeCe answered, now playing the part of the calm one.  “They’re fine, but
they’re stopping by here this evening.  I thought we might want to formulate a
game plan.”

“Here?  They’re
coming here?  Why are they doing that?” I asked unable to hide the panic in my
voice.

“I don’t know,”
CeCe said slowly as she watched me carefully place my coffee mug on the coaster
before I started nervously wringing my hands.  “I guess they’re crazy enough to
think that just because their daughters live here, they might be welcome?”

“Oh, of course
they’re welcome.  They know that.  It’s just — well, you know — Luke’s here,” I
stammered.

“This might
surprise you, Maggie,” Luke interjected, after he entered the room all sneaky
and quiet.  “But I have been known to be in the same room with mothers without
sending them screaming into the night.  Besides, I already met your mothers,
remember?  What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t want to
tell you.  I don’t want you to think I’m weird or anything.” I whined.

CeCe quietly
picked up her coffee mug and left the room.

“I’m afraid that
ship has already sailed.  I do think you’re weird, but not in a bad way,” Luke
explained, using what he probably thought of as charm as he tried not to laugh.

“If you must
know,” I said with huge sigh to remind him he tires me, “I need some emotional
preparation time before you and my mother are in the same room.  CeCe wasn’t
the only one I drunk texted, and now I have to explain myself.  Although, my
mother did think I was all loopy from the medicine I was taking, because I was
supposed to be sick.  I don’t want her thinking you and I are — well — I don’t
want her thinking anything.  I need to explain before she assumes anything and
starts asking you embarrassing questions.  In the process, I have to find a way
to reassure her that I did turn out okay, and she didn’t waste her time trying
to raise me right, so she doesn’t need to ask herself where she went wrong. 
Okay?  Are you happy?”

“So what I’m
hearing,” Luke began after he adopted an expression of pure innocence, “is that
you would rather I
didn’t
slip and mention to your mother that you
wanted to have wild, crazy, voodoo sex with me in the French Quarter?”

“I’m glad you
think you’re funny,” I stated flatly.

“Huh, huh, huh,
huh,” muffled, but unmistakable chuckling came from the next room.

“DO NOT encourage
him, CeCe!” I yelled.  I felt woefully outnumbered.  I might chuckle later.

 

CHAPTER 19

 

CeCe had already
called the sisters at the shop when it became clear she and Fry would not
return after an hour.  She’d told the sisters something unavoidable had come up
that she and Fry needed to take care of immediately.  CeCe asked them to put
the closed sign in the window and leave the shop locked up for the rest of the day. 
The sisters argued that they were enjoying their visit down memory lane by
waiting on customers again – since they didn’t have to do it every day.  They
insisted that CeCe and Fry take care of whatever they needed and not worry
about the shop.  The sisters would lock up at closing time, then stop by our
house to drop off the keys.  They informed CeCe it had been long enough, and
they would check on me whether I was still contagious or not.

Luke wanted to take
a quick run over to Barney’s house and see if he had any luck finding the
painting the murderers broke in to search for but couldn’t find.  He said CeCe
and I didn’t have to come with him.  He might have been naïve enough to think
he had a chance of that working.  He’ll learn someday.

When we got to the
house and saw the carnage, he decided the painting was probably not in the
house.  Nevertheless, we each took a section of the house and searched as
thoroughly as possible without doing more damage than had already been done. 
Nothing.

With the afternoon
winding down and easing into evening, we returned to our house to wait for the
sisters to arrive.  We were anxious to get it over with and set the record
straight.  Since lying to the sisters was supposed to be a temporary thing, we
agreed we could justify our fibs as necessary for keeping them out of it.  To add
more fabrications after Fry was grabbed and I returned home would likely cause
more problems than we could ever explain away.  It was time to come clean and
let them know exactly what was going on.  CeCe, Luke, and I were in the living
room once again when the doorbell rang.  Luke went to check it out and came
back with the sisters.

“Maggie,” my
mother came over and gave me a big hug as she said, “you must be feeling much
better since you’re up and around.  You do look wonderful, doesn’t she, Shirley?”

“Hello, dear,”
Aunt Shirley greeted as she delivered her big hug.  “Your mother’s right. 
Maybe a little pale, but other than that you look great.”

“We were just
telling Luke at the door how nice it is to see him again,” my mother
interjected as she looked from Luke to CeCe to me.  “We saw Fry’s car in the
driveway, so where is he?  We can’t leave without saying hello to our Fritz.”

“Mother,” I said
gently, “would you and Aunt Shirley sit down for a few minutes?  We need to
talk.”

“Sure we will,
dear, if you sit down as well,” Mother suggested with a look of concern on her
face.  “You just lost all that beautiful color you had a minute ago, and
Shirley’s right.  You’re looking a little pasty.  See, I knew it was probably
too soon for you to be up and about.”

CeCe led the
sisters over to the sofa where they all three sat down.  Luke and I took our
respective seats in the recliners, and everyone looked at me expectantly.

I started with how
I’d left town to make sure Luke was aware the direction the investigation was
taking, which turned into the idea that Fry should stay with Luke for Luke’s
credibility.  I went on to explain how Luke’s eye was injured which meant I
couldn’t let him drive to New Orleans with one functioning eye.  I stressed the
fact that the police investigation was focusing on him, and he needed time to
think.  I pointed out the importance of taking a few days to check into some
information in an effort to shift the investigation toward the actual murderer
or murderers, and that’s what he and Fry were going to be doing in New
Orleans.  So it was really all the sheriff’s fault, because if he hadn’t been
periodically monitoring Fry’s movements, I wouldn’t have needed to be the one
in New Orleans corroborating Luke’s whereabouts and activities.

I told them what
we discovered about the missing painting and the implication by Mr. Parker that
his youngest brother’s family might be involved.  I described the news we got
from Fry’s friend Stubby, as well as the break-in at Barney and Luke’s house.  I
concluded with what happened outside Barney’s house that day when CeCe and Fry
went to clean up but ended up with Fry being nabbed by the men we suspected had
murdered Eliza and Barney.  I emphasized the kidnappers demand that we not
involve the police, or Fry would be killed.  Not that it made any difference
now, but I pointed out the unfortunate timing that Fry’s movements weren’t
being monitored by the sheriff’s department at the moment that he was snatched
from Luke’s driveway.

When I finished
the overview of the last few days, I pleaded our case for the lies we told
them, along with my heart-felt apology.  I explained that we did what we felt
was best to help Luke and protect them as much as possible.  CeCe chimed in at
that point and assured the sisters we had the best intentions throughout the
entire deception.

When CeCe and I
finished talking, I noticed I had scooted to the edge of my seat as I
explained.  At that point, I sat back and waited for the sisters to unleash
their disappointment in us, and their displeasure with the lies we had told. 
The longer the silence went on, the more I dreaded the eruption that was
imminent from Mt. Sisters.

Finally, Aunt
Shirley broke the standoff with a heavy sigh.  “Well,” she began, “I don’t
smell anything cooking, so I’m going to start some dinner.  You kids need to
eat.  You’re all looking a little washed our right now, and if you don’t eat
you’re going to get sick.”  With that announcement, she stood and headed for
the kitchen.

“I’ll help you,
Mother,” CeCe said as she scrambled to her feet and took off to follow Shirley.

My mother sat for
another minute or two, as she stared at me and occasionally cast a glance at
Luke.  Several times she opened her mouth to speak, but promptly shut it again
without uttering a word.

When neither Luke
nor I added anything to my original story or apology, she let out her breath
very slowly, gave her head a slight shake, rose from the sofa, and said, “I’ll
open a bottle of wine.”  She paused just before reaching the entryway, turned
back to look from me to Luke and back to me again, and added, “Or two, perhaps
two bottles would be better.”

“I don’t know why
you and CeCe were so worried,” Luke remarked softly once my mother was out of
earshot.  “They seemed to take that exceptionally well.”

“I can honestly
say I’ve never met those two women we just encountered,” I assured him.  “It’s
bad enough that we lied to them, which would normally bring on a lecture of how
we weren’t raised that way.  But to keep them out of the loop, have issues
going on that we neglected to include them in – well, that was the unforgivable
sin.  At least, that’s the case with the two women who raised us.  I have no
idea who those women in the kitchen with CeCe are, since I don’t believe we’ve
been introduced.  The only possible explanation I can come up with is that they
are so worried about Fry they aren’t thinking like themselves.”

While I sat there,
stared into space, and tried to figure out the sisters’ unprecedented
reactions, Luke stood and said, “I’m going to go see if your mother needs any
help with the wine.”

I nodded my head
to acknowledge I’d heard him, but was not ready to move.  In true fight or
flight response mode, I had been prepared to fight.  Now it seemed my mind and
body needed a moment to adjust to the peaceful reactions the sisters had chosen
in response to my confession.  I thanked my moon for being in the proper
alignment or whatever.  I have no idea how long I’d been sitting there
contemplating the cosmos, when my mother walked back into the room carrying two
glasses of wine.

She handed one of
the glasses to me, walked to the sofa, carefully sat down, and said, “Maggie.”

Oops, I thanked my
moon too soon.  I was about to get chewed out in the way I so completely
deserved.

Although she’d
paused for a second after she said my name, she seemed to have collected her
thoughts now and was ready to give it another try.  “Maggie,” she repeated
before she went on.  “I don’t want to give the impression that I condone the
type of fabrication you and CeCe felt it was necessary to use on me and Shirley. 
You could have simply told us the truth.  It’s not like we would have narced on
you and Luke.”

I must have looked
slightly taken aback at that statement, because Mother added, “What?  We watch
television, you know.  Now what was I saying?  Oh yes, I was telling you that
while I understand
what
you did, I do not feel you were right to keep
the truth from us because we wouldn’t have ratted you out.”

The last of my
fight response mode left me when I saw the wounded look on my mother’s face.  I
couldn’t believe this.  She wasn’t angry, she was hurt?

“Mother,” I began
as I walked over to the couch and put my around her.  “CeCe and I didn’t keep
all of this from you guys because we didn’t trust you.  We kept it from you
because of your position on the city council.  I would have felt awful if the
unthinkable happened, and they had issued an arrest warrant for Luke.  There I
was helping him, and I was going to keep on helping him, because I was completely
convinced he had nothing to do with either murder.  Making you aware of what I
was doing could have put you in an awkward position.  I wanted to make sure you
had plausible deniability.  I’m a grown woman, and I’ll take responsibility for
my actions, but I don’t have the right to put you in a position that might
jeopardize your place on the council.”

“Well, young
lady,” Mother began, still staring into her untouched wine, “let me tell you
something.”  As I braced myself, she went on, “I’m very proud of you.”

As Mother turned
to look me in the eye, she continued, “You’re right, you are an adult.  Shirley
and I raised you girls to be strong, take charge, independent thinkers, and
that is what we got, so how can we fault you for that.  Although I appreciate
your efforts to keep my council seat untainted, make no mistake about this.  I
would step down from my seat in a heartbeat should it be necessary to protect
either of you girls.  So you don’t ever have to worry about putting me in a
position where I might have to choose between protecting you girls and lying to
the council.  I wouldn’t lie to the council, but I would protect either of you
girls, even if it meant no more council position for me.  You girls come first
with Shirley and me.  You always have, and you always will.”

“Now I know how
you got elected,” I said as I jostled my mother’s shoulder.  “You make great
speeches,” and with that I gave her a big hug.

“Dinner’s ready
you two,” CeCe called as she put several bowls on the dining room table.  The
places had all been set with paper plates and plastic utensils.

Luke entered the
dining room as my mother and I arrived from the other entrance.  He was
carrying ketchup, mustard, mayo, and pickles.  “Ladies,” he greeted us with a
big smile and quickly cast a glance at the untouched wine glass in my hand.

I met his eyes as
he approached me and whispered, “Yeah, I know.  I haven’t eaten much of anything,
so I’m waiting until I do.”

“Shirley, this
looks delicious, and I’m starved,” Mother announced when Aunt Shirley came in
with a plate of hamburgers.

“It’s just
hamburgers and french fries, I’m afraid,” Aunt Shirley apologized.  “You girls
need to do some grocery shopping.”  She turned to direct her next comment to my
mother.  “Pearl, do you know they had lettuce but no tomatoes, and
frozen
fries
but no potatoes.”

Although Aunt
Shirley was slightly scandalized by our skimpy pantry (she was the main cook at
their house), my mother didn’t see it as a problem.  “Well, Shirley, you know
the girls have been kind of distracted, what with everything going on.”

“Oh, heavens,
Pearl, you’re right.  We will just have to go get your groceries for you
tomorrow morning, that’s all.” Aunt Shirley announced to CeCe and I, very proud
of herself for figuring out a solution to our pantry problem.  “Now, do you
girls have something for breakfast, because we can go get some things as soon
as we eat if need be?”

“Yes, ma’am!” CeCe
said a little too quickly.  “I mean we have eggs, bagels, and coffee.  That’s
all we need.”

“Orange juice?”
Aunt Shirley challenged.  “Do you have orange juice?”

“Well, no ma’am,”
CeCe answered.  “But we don’t really need orange juice.  We’ll be in kind of a
hurry in the morning anyway.  We have to be at Luke’s house when the kidnappers
call.”  That statement directed the conversation to the sensitive topic of
Fry’s kidnapping.

“I hope you know
what you’re doing with this drop-off-the-print-copy plan to get Fry back,”
Mother remarked.  “Although I understand your hesitancy to call the police,
Luke, I’m worried about what could happen to Fry and you if things go wrong.” 
My mother directed her comment at Luke, which led me to believe they had
discussed his plan when he assisted her with the wine.

“What about us,
Aunt Pearl?”  CeCe asked teasingly, “Aren’t you worried about Maggie and me,
too?”  She chuckled at the fact that she had to remind my mother to be
concerned about us as well, until Pearl’s response quieted her down.

“Oh, no, dear,”
Mother told CeCe.  “I’m not worried about you two at all, because Luke has
already assured me you won’t be there.”

I looked across
the table at Luke and raised one eyebrow in a silent question.

Luke never stopped
chewing, but when his eyes met mine a small smile crept across his face, and he
gave me a wink.

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