Tea-Totally Dead (21 page)

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Authors: Jaqueline Girdner

BOOK: Tea-Totally Dead
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The park we came to was really a mini-park, a sloping section of lawn about half the size of a baseball field, complete with a couple of big oak trees and a pocket-sized playground in one corner. We were the only ones there. Wayne and Ace laid out the blankets on the grass and we arranged ourselves in a rough circle, Dru giggling about her “old bones” as she lowered herself carefully. The thin blankets didn’t do much to disguise the fact that the ground was hard, cold and lumpy. Still, nobody complained. The Skeritt clan was a hardy lot.

Once we were all settled in, I passed out paper plates and wondered if anyone here had heard about Harmony’s death yet. No one had mentioned it. And no one’s appetite seemed impaired, I noted a few moments later as everyone scooped, prodded and speared food from the passing deli containers. Everyone but Wayne. And myself. I took a little Thai rice so I wouldn’t look out of place. And then I wondered if someone else here was only pretending to have an appetite. Because one of these people had probably killed Harmony, had probably beaten her to death. I felt a sudden sting of angry tears.

“Allergies,” I murmured hastily, wiping my eyes.

“You know what, Aunt Kate?” Eric said through a mouthful of food.

I shook my head, trying to smile.

“There’s medicine you can take for allergies.”

“Is that a fact?” I said, my tears subsiding. Eric was such an earnest know-it-all, he made me smile for real.

“Uh-huh,” he told me, then took another bite of something that might have been a cabbage roll or a dolma.

“Wayne and I have been worried about Harmony,” I said, with no attempt at a more graceful segue. “Anyone have any ideas?”

“Ideas about what exactly?” Trent asked. At first I thought he was teasing me, but his eyes were serious. And intent.

“Oh, what to do with her now that Vesta’s gone,” I answered casually.

“I shouldn’t think that would be your problem,” he advised me.

I opened my mouth to argue with him, then remembered why I was asking these questions.

“I think Harmony must be here as an irritant,” Lori offered.

“What do you mean, ‘an irritant’?” I asked, turning to her.

“Well, we’re all here for a purpose,” she began. She tilted her head at me as if inviting confirmation of this basic proposition.

I nodded. I wasn’t about to air my own spiritual ambivalence.

“But some of our purposes aren’t so obvious, or so pleasant,” she continued, shaking her plastic fork for emphasis. “For instance, there are people who are here in this lifetime to understand what it means to oppress others. Like Saddam Hussein. Or those guys in the CIA.”

“Oh, dear,” Ingrid interjected. “I don’t really think Hussein could be here for that purpose. I think he must be rebelling against God’s purpose, if anything.” I wondered briefly what she thought of the CIA.

“But see, Mom,” Lori said excitedly, her plastic fork really wiggling now. “That’s the point. Everyone thinks that they know what a
good
or a
bad
purpose is. But it’s not that simple. It someone is reincarnated for the purpose of suffering oppression, someone has to oppress them, right?”

“Well,” Ingrid whispered, shaking her head, “I don’t know about that—”

“So some people come into this life to experience being the oppressor,” Lori finished triumphantly.

“Are you saying Harmony was supposed to be an oppressor?” I asked, completely confused now.

“No, that was just an example,” Lori answered, shaking her head. Her earrings jingled merrily. “Harmony’s an irritant. She’s in this life to annoy other people. To shake up their thinking. It’s a very important purpose.”

“A hard job, but someone’s got to do it?” Gail said mockingly.

“That’s it!” Lori cried, pointing her fork happily at Gail. Apparently Lori hadn’t heard the mockery in Gail’s voice. Or maybe she had but didn’t choose to acknowledge it.

A dog barked somewhere in the silence that followed Lori’s cry. No one seemed to be eating anymore.

“Oh dear,” murmured Ingrid.

“Hey, can I be an irritant?” demanded Ace. He stuck his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers. Then he crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

Eric and Mandy doubled over laughing.

It wasn’t that funny. But Dru was laughing too. And Lori. So much for my discussion of Harmony.

“Well, if there is such a thing as an irritant,” Trent commented dryly, “Ace must indeed be one.”

“Oh, Dad,” Lori said, spooning tabouli into her mouth. “You’re such a card sometimes. But anyway, Harmony is an obvious irritant—”

“That’s enough, Lori,” Trent broke in. “Harmony is a behavior problem, nothing more and nothing less.”

Lori stopped short. I could see the struggle in her eyes. Was it worth it to challenge her father? Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to her tabouli. Why did she let him do that to her?

“Poor troubled soul,” Ingrid murmured sadly. For a moment I thought she was talking about Lori, but then I realized she had probably meant Harmony.

“You know what?” Eric asked. Heads turned his way. “You can do all these totally cool things with the punctuation on computers. You can make smiley faces and sad faces and…”

Ten minutes later, I was trying to figure out how to get the subject back to Harmony.

“So, Gail,” I said finally. “You’re a psychotherapist. What do you think about Harmony?”

“What do you really mean by that question?” she asked back.

“Well…” I temporized. Damn, she was cold. Was she still mad at me for playing therapist the night before? I reworded my question. “Do you think Harmony was crazy enough to need institutionalization?”

Gail just stared at me. She didn’t even say “hmm.”

“She was obviously pretty screwed up,” I persisted. “All the things she said about UFO’s—”

Gail interrupted me quietly. “Why are you using the past tense?” she asked.

 

 

- Sixteen -

I sat there on the cold lumpy ground, mesmerized by Gail’s cool stare. Why
had
I used the past tense? Had I subconsciously meant to tell the murderer that I too knew Harmony was dead? That I had seen what was left of her battered face? I looked into Gail’s unblinking brown eyes and thought of Harmony’s pale blue ones staring upward. Goose bumps sprang up on my arms. I rubbed them as I tried to think, then decided to tell the truth.

“We found—” I began.

“Oh Gail, honey,” Dru bubbled gaily. “Why are you always so critical? Past tense, present tense, what does it matter? You’re not an English teacher, for heaven’s sake.” Dru’s playful tone should have taken the sting from her words. But somehow, it didn’t seem to.

Gail shifted her unblinking gaze to her mother without a smile.

“Here we are in this nice little park and you’re all gloomy,” her mother finished up. “Have some fun!”

“Mother,” Gail answered, her cool tone edged with a hint of heat. “Not having your infinite capacity for denial and repression, I find it difficult to have ‘fun’ while wondering if my aunt has been murdered.”

Dru let out a high-pitched giggle, as if Gail had just said something witty. A whole new set of goose bumps raised the hair on the back of my neck.

“You know what—” Eric put in.

“What?” said Ace and then wrestled the boy to the ground before he could answer.

“Wheee!” Lori shouted and launched herself on top of Ace, knocking over the nearest deli containers as she did.

I didn’t bring Harmony up again.

The walk home was more leisurely than the one to the park. I placed myself in the middle of the pack so I could listen in on the various conversations.

“… this totally awesome psychologist named B.F. Skinner,” Eric was saying to Ace and Wayne at the front. “He taught these pigeons how to drop the bombs in World War II by pecking at the targets. They were totally good at it, but these dweebs wouldn’t let them…”

I switched my attention to Dru and Gail, striding along a few feet behind the men.

“… just because one boy doesn’t like you anymore. It doesn’t mean anything,” Dru said. Now, this was interesting. “Remember, honey, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“Mother, how many times do I have to tell…” Gail began, and then she lowered her voice. Damn.

“… how Grandpa treats Mom,” I heard from behind me. It was Mandy’s voice and it sounded angry.

“I know he gets grouchy,” a penetrating whisper replied. Ingrid’s, I was pretty sure. “But he really loves you and your mother, dear. He just, oh…” Ingrid’s voice faltered.

“It’s okay, Grandma,” Mandy said, her tone softened. “He isn’t completely hideous.”

Then I heard the jingle of bracelets. I turned in time to see Lori striding up beside me.

“I just had a wonderful inspiration, Kate,” she told me, laying her taloned hand on my arm. “Since you and Wayne have shared so much with us, I thought I could give you both massages.” I looked down at her long red fingernails and shuddered. “I can do Shiatsu or Swedish or deep tissue,” she went on blithely. “Even acupressure. And I just took a seminar in foot reflexology.”

I tried to think of a way to signal Wayne that I needed help here. But all I could see was the back of his head.

“… so then they put the rat in this totally cool box, see, and…” Eric was saying.

I turned back to Lori, who smiled widely.

“Doesn’t this beautiful day just make you want to sing?” she demanded, and without waiting for an answer, she leaned her head back and burst into song. “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…”

I bolted into a near run, wondering how opera singers could stand it. Did it hurt their eardrums as much as mine to be sung to at top volume by someone so close by?

My ears were still ringing by the time we reached home.

We all trooped up the steps and into the house again. Dru flung herself onto the couch gracefully and let out a long theatrical sigh. Eric headed straight for the pinball machines. Lori followed behind him, humming a new tune. Everyone else stood around with varying degrees of uncertainty on their faces. What were we supposed to do now? I snuck a peek at Wayne.
His
face was set in stone. No help there. I took a deep breath, readying myself to play hostess.

“Would anyone like a hot tub?” I asked, glad I had thought to turn up the heat earlier.

“Oh my,” Ingrid quavered, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. “Well, I just don’t know—”

“Go ahead, Mama,” Lori encouraged her. “It’ll do you good.”

“Well, I—” Ingrid began again.

“Do we get to wear bathing suits?” Dru asked, tilting her head coquettishly. “Or do we soak
au naturel
?”

Ingrid’s face reddened under her white hair. So that was what was bothering her.

“Of course you can wear suits,” I said hastily, counting spares in my mind.

I had quite a collection, the living legacy from a friend who had lost eighty pounds over the course of one year (and unfortunately gained most of it back the following year). The extra-large ought to fit Ingrid, I thought. She was broad as well as tall. And Gail would be about right for the large. Dru and Lori were tall but slender. Mediums? And Mandy might be okay in a bikini. I knew Wayne had extra trunks for the men. I looked at him again.

“Only room for five or six in the tub,” he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. But Ingrid heard him.

“Oh my,” she said again, visibly brightening. “I wouldn’t want to take anyone else’s place.”

Lori laughed and crossed the room to kiss her mother’s cheek. Ingrid smiled back at her daughter sheepishly.

“Well, I’m game,” Ace said heartily. He turned to Wayne. “What about you, kid?”

Wayne shook his head. I resisted the urge to scream. It was his idea to invite his family over. And one of us should sit in the hot tub with the others, not just in the name of hospitality but to listen for any stray confessions of murder. Wasn’t that the point of this visit? I stifled a sigh. It looked like I was elected for hot-tub duty.

“Grampy, can I just play pinball?” Eric asked, feeling for the switch on the bottom of Hayburners as he did. The machine lights came on and he pushed the reset button, returning the metal horses in the recessed backglass to their starting positions before Ace even had a chance to tell him yes. Or no, for that matter.

Mandy didn’t even bother to ask for permission. She just powered up the other machine, an old wood-railed Gottlieb model by the name of Texan, and shot a ball.

“Dad,” Lori said. “You should go soak in the tub with Ace. You need to relax more.”

I thought Trent would argue, but he didn’t. He just nodded his well-groomed head ponderously. Then Dru said she’d “just love” a hot tub. And pretty soon she had convinced Gail too.

I passed out bathing suits before anyone could change their minds.

After fifteen minutes of taking turns dressing—boys in the guest bathroom and girls in the bedroom—we were all in the hot tub on my back deck, soaking. And I was glad I had been elected. The hot, churning waters were doing a good job of massaging my shoulders, better I was sure than Lori could have done. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the jet of hot water, feeling my muscles loosening. Over the hum of the tub, I could hear the sound of bells ringing from the living room. Someone was racking up a good score on a pinball machine.

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