Sour Puss
Authors: Rita Mae Brown,Michael Gellatly
Contents
Dedicated to
Patricia Kluge and Bill Moses
Their many acts of generosity
go unheralded in keeping
with their sensitivity and kindness.
Acknowledgments
Ruth Dalsky dumped a cartonload of technical information concerning diseases and pests that attack grapes. It’s the only time in my life I have regretted not taking organic chemistry in college. She proved a whirlwind of research as well as a cherished friend.
Lynn Stevenson, my neighbor, trooped herself out to local vineyards. She also made numerous phone calls for specific information to vintners. She was in her element because she and her husband, Gib, appreciate fine wine, but also Lynn isn’t happy unless she’s learning something or doing something productive. God forbid she sit idle. Nor would she take a penny for her considerable efforts. Kay Pfaltz, an expert in these matters, put together a carton of reds and whites for Lynn. Well, Lynn thought that was too much, so she wrote a check to the hunt club for my foxhounds. Lynn, you really are worth the money/wine! (And you’re an original.)
Kristin Moses of Kluge Estate Winery and Vineyard helped Lynn in her efforts, as did David King of King Vineyards. Veritas Vineyards and White Hall Vineyards also answered questions. Those who go from the vine to the bottle, every step of this arduous process, are so happy to share their knowledge. Truly, it is a great passion.
Kaiser Bill, retired polo pony, feels strongly that Lynn Stevenson would not have been able to perform her wonders without his contributions. That horse lives like a king thanks to “Mom” Lynn.
One of the most unique experiences in preparing for this novel was visiting Chellowe, an estate founded in the early 1700s, near what is now Route 15, in Buckingham County, Virginia. Owned by Mr. and Mrs. Gene Dixon, this extraordinary place is being restored using all the original methods and, in most cases, materials. It has been years in the doing and will be some years yet before completion. Chellowe was the site of the first grant in the Old Dominion to create a vinery. Its original owner, Mr. Bollin, was also a poet. Perhaps the wine induced the Muses.
Mr. Lucius Bracey, Jr., provided prompt answers to my question about the disposition of bail money. In over thirty years, Lucius has always come through.
Should you become interested in any of the above-mentioned vineyards, some are occasionally open to the public, others are open year-round.
You can find out more about them and other Virginia vineyards if you go to:
I should confess here that I don’t drink wine. I don’t drink, period. I’m not an alcoholic who must avoid spirits. I never learned to like the taste, and as a youth, being varsity, I never wanted to risk getting on the bad side of Coach, which drinking would do.
However, I was born to farming and farm now, so studying the methods of cultivating the various types of grape, the necessary soil, sun and altitude conditions, provoked intense admiration for those people running vineyards. Farming is not for weakhearts anyway, but operating a vineyard is unbelievably intense in both labor, intelligence involved, and cold, hard cash. Next time you drink a good vintage, say a prayer for the person out there in the fields who started it all.
Ever and Always,
R.M.B.
Cast of Characters
Mary Minor Haristeen, “Harry”
—Curious, hardworking, logical, she’s almost forty. Having left her secure job at the Crozet post office, she’s starting a new career in nursery stock.
Fair Haristeen
—An equine veterinarian specializing in reproduction, he’s finally won back his ex-wife. He’s honest, extremely handsome, and, in many ways, more emotionally mature than Harry.
Susan Tucker
—As Harry’s best friend, she knows all her faults and loves her despite or maybe even because of them. These two were cradle friends and have been through a lot together.
Ned Tucker
—Susan’s husband serves in the state legislature, having been elected last November. He’s learning the ropes and is in Richmond more than Susan likes, but she’ll adjust.
Olivia Craycroft, “BoomBoom”
—She’s drop-dead gorgeous, another cradle friend of Harry’s, although they’ve been enemies as well as friends. She’s a good businesswoman, running a cement plant, and is now becoming fascinated with Harry’s return to farming.
Alicia Palmer
—A big movie star in the seventies and eighties, she came home last year, free at last to be herself. It took her a year just to detox from Hollywood.
Miranda Hogendobber
—Harry’s former work partner at the post office, in her late sixties. She’s very religious but has moved away from the more-radical elements of her Church of the Holy Light. She will work with Harry once the crops come up, but for some of this volume she has been visiting her sister in Greenville, South Carolina.
Marilyn Sanburne, “Big Mim”
—Fabulously wealthy, often imperious, very bright, she rules Crozet with an iron hand in a velvet glove. She has a good heart, if you can stand being bossed around.
Marilyn Sanburne, Jr., “Little Mim”
—She’s become her own person, at last, moving out of her mother’s shadow. Becoming vice-mayor of Crozet (Republican) was her turning point.
Jim Sanburne
—Husband to Big Mim, father of Little Mim, he is the mayor of Crozet and a Democrat. This certainly makes for interesting family discussions.
Deputy Cynthia Cooper
—Observant, intelligent, loves law enforcement, she’s respected in the community. She’s a good partner for her boss.
Sheriff Rick Shaw
—He tries not to become cynical. Cooper is good for him even as his Camel cigarettes are not. He’s surrendered all hope of quitting. There are times when he could throttle Harry because she gets in the way.
Rev. Herbert C. Jones
—Warm, wise, and observant, he is on call not only to members of his congregation at St. Luke’s but to anyone who needs help. He practices Christianity and sidesteps dogma.
Rollie Barnes
—Aggressive, driven, needlessly competitive, he’s made a bundle in the stock market, “retired” to Crozet, and is starting a vineyard, Spring Hill.
Chauntal Barnes
—Much younger than Rollie, she possesses the sensitivity and tact her husband lacks.
Arch Saunders
—Passionate about making wine, he studied at Virginia Tech, taught for two years, then took a job in Napa Valley to learn as much as he could. The chance to develop his own wine with Rollie’s resources brought him back to Virginia. He had an affair with Harry when she was first divorced.
Toby Pittman
—Another brilliant graduate of Tech, he started Rockland Vineyards, a success. He’s beyond competitive and probably mentally ill. But he is damned smart.
Hy Maudant
—A middle-aged Frenchman who started White Vineyards. He brings insouciance as well as the depth of French knowledge of the all-important grape to his work. Toby flat-out hates him. Hy is quite shrewd about money.
Professor Vincent Forland
—Diminutive, ready to lecture at the drop of a hat, he taught both Arch and Toby. Like many academics, he’s so good in his field and pretty useless outside of it.
The Really Important Characters
Mrs. Murphy
—Harry’s tiger cat watches everything and everybody. She’s smart but more critical, given the messes her human gets into. Mrs. Murphy is level-headed and a quick thinker.
Pewter
—Harry’s gray cat. She has a bit of a weight problem and does not appreciate being reminded of same. She goes along with Mrs. Murphy, often grumbling, because she lives in fear of missing something.
Tee Tucker
—The bravest corgi in the universe. She puts up with Pewter’s complaining. She and Mrs. Murphy make a good team. She does love Pewter too, if only Pewter would shut up.
Owen
—Tucker’s brother is Susan’s dog. He possesses all the corgi qualities of brains, sweetness, stamina, and the willingness to herd anything.
Flatface
—The great horned owl, female, lives in the cupola of Harry’s barn. She slightly disdains the groundlings but recognizes they are her family, damaged though they are. Life without wings must be dreadful.
Simon
—A possum who never saw anything shiny he didn’t like. He takes anything broken or left out. He’s timid, but he likes to show his treasures to the other animals.
Matilda
—An old, huge blacksnake, she doesn’t much like anyone but she tolerates them. Her comings and goings are determined by the temperature, and the chatter of the warm-blooded creatures can be irritating. Like Flatface and the cats, she is death to vermin and, therefore, highly useful on a farm.
Jed
—Toby’s donkey doesn’t have much between those two long ears. Jed may be the only creature Toby loves and trusts.
The Horrid Blue Jay
—Devious, beautiful, likes to shout in that most unmelodic voice of his, he lives to torment the cats. He also drops stones on other birds’ eggs. He’s an all-around bad actor.
Harry’s hunters and broodmares
—As it’s spring, they’re turned out, so they’re not part of the story this time. The foals are healthy and happy. Mrs. Murphy especially likes horses. Pewter would like them better if they ate tuna or even chicken, because they often drop some of their food. She’s not lowering herself to eat hay or crimped oats.
1
M
ary Minor, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only to him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” Harry answered in a clear voice.
The Reverend Herbert Jones, in his sonorous tone, then asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
Susan Tucker, next to Harry, said, “I do.”
Fair, smiling, repeated what he had memorized. “I, Pharamond Haristeen, take thee, Mary Minor, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Perched on the balcony ledge, Mrs. Murphy, Harry’s tiger cat, and Pewter, the roly-poly gray cat, observed intently. Tucker, the corgi, sat on a bench next to Mildred, the organist.
“Finally,”
the dog sighed.
“They’re right for each other.”
Mrs. Murphy had cat’s intuition about such matters.
“They tried it once, the second time should be the charm.”
Pewter wished the ceremony would speed along, because she was eager to attend the reception. The extravagance of foods thrilled her far more than contemplating human rituals.
“If you think the farm runs along like a top now, you just wait until Fair puts his back into it. He’s strong as an ox.”
Tucker had always loved the six-foot-five-inch veterinarian. The feeling was mutual.
“Does this mean we won’t be sleeping on the bed? I mean, do we have to put up with their thrashing around and all that moaning and groaning?”
Pewter cherished sleep almost as much as food.
“Why would it be any different now, Pewts? Flop on the end of the bed and when they’re done then go up and sleep on the pillow,”
Mrs. Murphy replied.
“Well, if they’re married maybe they’ll be doing it more, you know?”
Pewter considered human physical intimacy an irritation. Then she giggled.
“Or less.”
“Won’t be any different, except he’ll be more relaxed. He’s worked so hard to win her back. He’ll be happy. Harry really is his great passion.”
Mrs. Murphy watched as Herb blessed the rings.
“Is Fair her great passion?”
Pewter cocked her head.
Neither Mrs. Murphy nor Tucker said anything. After long thought, Tucker finally responded,
“That’s a hard question to answer.”
“See, I don’t think he is, even if she is marrying him,”
Pewter blurted out.
“Look at Miranda and Tracy. He’s loony about her and she swoons every time she looks at him. I mean, BoomBoom and Alicia, besotted with each other. Cow eyes, you know. But I never see that in Harry.”
“Too rational.”
Tucker understood Pewter’s point.
“Oh, we’ve all seen Harry toss reason to the winds. Not often, granted, but she can lose her temper or let her curiosity get the better of her. Judgment flies right out the window.”
Mrs. Murphy, too, pondered Pewter’s observation.
“She loves him. She wouldn’t be standing there in that pretty dress if she didn’t love him. She’s,”
Mrs. Murphy paused,
“diffident. Our dear mother gets more excited about ideas, about building a shed or planting redbud clover than she does about people. She likes people well enough and, like I said, she truly loves Fair, but her passions aren’t about people. But he knows that. He knows just what he’s getting.”
“Guess so. They’ve known each other since before kindergarten.”
Tucker noticed Miranda wiping her eyes with a Belgian lace handkerchief. She also saw Paul de Silva holding Tazio Chappars’s hand. He obviously was wildly in love with the young, talented architect. Alicia and BoomBoom didn’t hold hands, but she saw Alicia give BoomBoom a handkerchief, as the Junoesque blonde was crying, too.
“Funny, BoomBoom crying, since everyone blamed her for the breakup of Harry’s marriage even though they were separated,”
Tucker remarked.
“No one can seduce a man who doesn’t want to be seduced. Fair was wrong and he paid penance. I say we forget the whole thing. Harry finally has.”
Mrs. Murphy was glad that Harry and BoomBoom had reclaimed a friendship out of painful circumstances.
“Guess BoomBoom and Alicia can’t get married, huh?”
Pewter twitched her tail, massive boredom setting in along with a grumbling stomach.
“They can, sort of, but the state doesn’t recognize it.”
Tucker shifted her weight on the bench, which made Mildred Potter, the organist, pat her on the head.
“Why do people get married? We don’t. It’s such an expense, a big public display, and it costs a bloody fortune. Can’t they just pair off and be done with it? Think of all the chicken and salmon and tuna and catnip you could buy with that money.”
Pewter honed in on her passion.
“This wedding isn’t that expensive, because it’s a remarriage.”
Tucker was getting hungry herself.
“Ha. The reception is going to cost about six thousand dollars. Probably more once the bar bill comes in. That’s a lot of tuna,”
Pewter said.
“There’s more than tuna at stake for humans. Marriage establishes paternity so a man isn’t putting a nickel in another man’s meter.”
Mrs. Murphy laughed.
“’Course, now with DNA, paternity can be established in ways that don’t please all men. You play, you pay. They can no longer claim the baby isn’t theirs.”
She paused.
“The whole marriage thing is so ingrained in society that they can’t really do without it. Doesn’t even matter if they have children. It’s something you’ve got to do.”
“Like death and taxes.”
Pewter giggled.
“Aren’t you glad you don’t have to go through all this rigmarole?”
Tucker sighed.
“I’m happy Harry is marrying Fair, but it is exhausting.”
“Who wants to be human? If there is reincarnation I’m coming back as myself.”
Pewter puffed out her gray chest.
“My, my, don’t we think a lot of ourselves.”
Mrs. Murphy slyly batted at Pewter.
“Oh, and you’d like to come back as a caterpillar?”
Pewter sassed.
Mrs. Murphy lashed out, a real whack.
Pewter struck back.
“Hey, hey, you two!” Mildred cautioned them, because it would be a long tumble down into the congregation.
Just as Herb uttered, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” the people gathered below were treated to a hissing fit of such volume that a few heads tilted upward. Harry cast her eyes to behold the spectacle of Pewter giving Mrs. Murphy such a swat that the tiger cat slipped over the side of the balcony, hanging on by her claws.
“Dear God,” she sighed.
“Little pagans,” Herb whispered, which made Fair laugh.
With heroic effort, Mrs. Murphy hoisted herself up onto the balcony railing. Pewter shot off the railing, hit the organist’s bench with all fours, endured a reprimand from Mildred and a yap from Tucker as she leapt onto the keys, which produced a mass of discordant notes throughout lovely St. Luke’s Lutheran Church.
She then soared off the organ as Mrs. Murphy, in hot pursuit, gained on her. Up to the last row of the balcony, down to the exit, thundering down the carpeted stairs, Pewter skidded across the highly polished vestibule floor, knocking over the lectern with the red leather visitor’s book opened. The book hit the floor. Mrs. Murphy left a few claw marks as she scrambled over the book. Pewter then turned a ninety-degree angle, bolting down the center aisle of the church.
BoomBoom reached out to grab her, but Pewter eluded the bejeweled hand, as did Mrs. Murphy. The two crazed felines headed straight for the nuptial pair.
Tucker had sense enough not to stop either cat. She watched with fascination, as did Mildred.
“You’re a good doggy,” Mildred crooned between her laughs.
“Yes, I am.”
“I will kill you. I will kill you on Harry’s wedding day!”
Mrs. Murphy shouted.
“Gotta catch me first.”
Pewter, realizing she was the center of attention, was loving the limelight, quite oblivious to the discipline that might follow.
Herb bravely continued, and as he was pronouncing Fair and Harry husband and wife he rolled his eyes skyward, imploring the Lord not only to bless those two humans but to bless the two cats in quite a different way.
Pewter ducked under Harry’s train. Mrs. Murphy wiggled right under. Pewter then emerged from the back of Harry’s train with such force that Fair held on to her as Herb ended the ceremony with “. . . that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen.”
Before Fair kissed his bride, they both watched Pewter land on the altar. She crouched behind the large gold cross. Mrs. Murphy landed on the altar, as well, the two towering floral displays on either side of the cross swaying unpredictably. The cats fought each other on either side of the cross.
Fair whispered, “Honey, let me kiss you before they wreck the place.”
He kissed her and she kissed back, and when they broke the kiss, they just laughed until the tears came to their eyes. By now everyone was mesmerized, and it was dawning on Pewter that as much as she adored all these eyes upon her there might be hell to pay.
“She started it!”
Pewter bellowed.
“I did not, you fat fat water rat!”
Mrs. Murphy aimed a precise blow across the top of the cross.
Rushing in from the back to the side of the altar were Herb’s cats, Elocution, Cazenovia, and Lucy Fur.
“What are you doing?”
Cazenovia called to the warring kitties.
“You’d better stop or there will be blue murder,”
Lucy Fur, a sensible type, admonished.
“I’ll kill her for sure!”
Mrs. Murphy, livid, agreed to the murder rap.
The three church cats positioned themselves in front of the altar.
Elocution very sweetly pleaded,
“If you don’t stop, Poppy will get awfully upset. Come on.”
She loved Herb.
Mrs. Murphy, her back to the congregation, turned to look down at the three cats. Then she looked at all the people. She’d forgotten about them.
“Holy shit!”
She leapt down.
“See, not only did she start it, she’s a blasphemer.”
Pewter rejoiced in this moment.
With three strides of his long legs, Fair walked up and scooped Mrs. Murphy, ears flat against her head, into his arms.
“Pewter, you get out from behind the cross,” Fair commanded.
Harry lifted her train, joining her husband. “Pewter, come on now. We’ll forgive you if you come off the altar. Remember, forgiveness is Christian.”
“Do it.”
Cazenovia added to Harry’s plea.
Pewter slunk out from behind the cross.
“I am innocent.”
“That’s what they all say.” Fair laughed as though he understood Pewter’s meow.
Bride and groom, each carrying an extremely naughty cat, walked down the center aisle as Mildred hit the keys.
Miranda, the lead singer in the choir of the charismatic Church of the Holy Light, said as the bride and groom walked by, “My delight is in the Lord; because He hath heard the voice of my prayer.”
“Happy that they’re finally married, honeybun?” Tracy held her hand.
“Yes, but my prayer was those two bad cats would get caught,” Miranda replied.
The reception, held at the farm, exceeded everyone’s expectations for a perfect April day. Small tables set up under the trees each had a lovely spring-flower arrangement. The food was truly superb, and Patricia Kluge and Bill Moses supplied all the wines from their Kluge Estate Vineyard. Over two hundred guests came to celebrate this glorious day. Even Mrs. Murphy and Pewter were forgiven as Harry fed them bits of turkey, ham, roast pork, and salmon.
She said to Fair, “No one will forget our wedding day.”
He’d just given Tucker a whole sweet potato as people toasted the bride and groom. “I know I won’t.”
