The Diva Serves High Tea (8 page)

Dear Natasha,

My husband hates green tea but I heard it helps people lose weight. He likes regular tea okay. What is the difference between green tea and black tea?

—Mrs. Tubby in Green Acres Valley, New York

Dear Mrs. Tubby,

He should drink more coffee. Forget the tea.

—Natasha

“What's wrong with him?” asked Velma.

She wasn't a slender woman but she sure could move fast. She approached one of the EMTs. “What's that on his face?”

“It's to help him breathe.”

“What happened to him? Why can't he breathe?”

“Ma'am, I wish I had an answer but I don't know.” He told her to which hospital they were taking Robert.

“I'll take you,” offered Francie. “You're in no condition to drive.”

The two of them headed for Velma's house at a respectable clip.

“You leave anything in the house?” Wong asked me.

“No.”

“I'm going to secure the premises.”

“You mean like a crime scene?”

Wong scowled at me. “Is there something you haven't told me? Do you have reason to think this is a crime scene?”

“No!”

“Okay, then. I'll just lock up the house.”

The ambulance left, and the crowd dissipated. I waited for Wong.

She stepped outside and tried the front door to be sure it was locked.

“Wong, did you get a good look at Robert?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever seen anything like that before?”

“Sophie, I'm a cop. I've seen things you don't even want to imagine.”

“Eww.”

The glimmer of a smile crossed her lips. “The guy looks sick, okay? I don't know what happened to him. I checked around for meds. Sometimes that helps the EMTs figure out what's up, but I didn't find anything useful.”

“So you've seen people who couldn't move before?”

“Not exactly like him. But sometimes people are afraid to move or they're in pain.”

I hadn't thought of that. It didn't explain his breathing problems, though.

“Why did you think Wanda was here?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Poor guess on my part. Apparently she didn't go home to Natasha's house last night. The last time I saw her, she was having tea with Robert at The Parlour. I thought they might have hit it off.”

Wong snorted. “Not a chance. Robert is as prim and
proper as Natasha. I can't see him being interested in Wanda.”

“I'd have thought the same thing but I was there when they met. The immediate attraction was obvious.”

“How come that doesn't happen to us?” asked Wong.

I laughed, wrapped an arm around her, and gave her a little squeeze.

“Is it true that Natasha kicked Mars out when he came home?” Wong asked.

“Wow. News gets around fast. And inaccurately. She didn't throw him out. But I'm not quite sure whose idea it was to break up. Sounds like it might have been mutual. You won't believe this but apparently Natasha has her eye on Robert!”

We walked past Callie's house. The drapes on the bay window were open.

“Something wrong?” Wong asked.

“I was just thinking how difficult it must be to have windows right on the sidewalk where everyone can peer inside.”

“Well, you
better
start thinking about Mars. I have it on good authority that a couple of divorcées are sharpening their claws and making Botox appointments.”

“Over Mars?” I couldn't help giggling. “He'll be very flattered, I'm sure.”

“Listen to me, girl. You better quit laughing and get busy or someone will snap him up before you know it.”

“Oh, Wong. Would you go after your ex-husband?”

“Not a chance! But he wasn't like Mars. He was a devil rat.”

Wong's radio sputtered with an unintelligible voice. “Gotta go.”

“Hey! What are you doing working in the morning? I thought you were on the night shift.”

“They keep switching us. Makes me crazy. See you later, Sophie.” Wong walked away briskly.

“Ready for breakfast?” I asked Daisy.

She wagged her tail.

On the way home, I detoured by the take-out window of Big Daddy's bakery. I was carrying a box of croissants—plain, chocolate, and ham—far more than I could eat by
myself, when I spied Wanda at my front door. She wore a rustic red, white, and black plaid shirt and jeans so tight I wasn't sure she'd be able to sit down.

“Good morning!” I unlocked the door.

“Sweetheart, you have some real food in there, don't you? I hate to beg for breakfast but Natasha hasn't got a thing in the house to eat.”

I was dying to know where she had spent the night but it seemed wrong to ask that of someone my mother's age. “I've heard that about Natasha's fridge. Where is she?”

“Sittin' in her kitchen in a snit drinking some kind of fancy coffee that's too strong for me. I hope you have plain old American coffee.” Wanda shut the door behind us. “Hi, Daisy! You remember me, doncha, sweet pea?”

Daisy waggled with excitement.

“You're in luck, I just picked up some croissants. I could whip up mushroom omelets.”

“Don't you go to any trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” I took off Daisy's halter and started coffee brewing. It occurred to me that Wanda might not be well if she had been with Robert. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Oh, a little weary. Didn't get much sleep last night. Where are your mugs, darlin'?”

I opened a cabinet and handed her two yellow ceramic mugs. I wondered if I should mention Robert's condition. Aha! Maybe there
was
a way to find out where she spent the night. “Why is Natasha in a snit?”

“Man trouble. She shouldn't be surprised. She comes by it through me. I swear we have a defective gene that makes us repel men. Too bad she messed things up with your Mars. He's a real decent fellow. Imagine him calling me because she needed me. How many men would have done that?”

“She told you Mars left her?” I pulled eggs and mushrooms out of the fridge and heated canola oil in two skillets.

“Mars told me that. Natasha made up a big whopper lie about throwing him out because she had met someone else. I hear you're back together with Mars.”

Oh dear. I thought I'd better tread carefully. “He stayed over in the den last night. Natasha simply jumped to incorrect conclusions. Did Natasha say who she's seeing?” I washed the mushrooms and wiped them with a cloth.

“Robert Johnson!” Wanda shook her head as she poured coffee into mugs. “What could she have been thinking?”

I sliced the mushroom caps. “Did you know she's still pining for her father?”

Wanda nearly choked on her coffee. “Do you remember her daddy?”

“Not very well.” I tossed the mushrooms in a pan and shook it to spread them out.

“Apparently, neither does Natasha. His name was Amos. Amos Smith. And, honey child, if
he
was selling antiques today, he'd be selling old hubcaps from a barn, probably stolen. But that doesn't stop Natasha from dreaming that he went through some kind of miraculous transformation”—she waved her hands through the air—“and became a gentleman in a top hat. She keeps looking around the city for him, but if Amos is still alive and kickin', he's out in the country somewhere, not hanging with her high society friends.”

I stirred the eggs in the skillets. “I guess it's her way of coping.”

“If I told her once, I told her five million times that she has to get over the fact that he left us. She has to move on and forget about him. Heaven knows he's not thinking about us. If he'd given one second of thought to how it might impact her, he never would have left us in the first place.”

I was itching to know why he left, but I figured it wasn't the kind of thing a polite person asks.

Wanda flicked a spoon against the tablecloth. “You girls are old enough to know that we all have our vices.”

I smiled when she called us girls. We would always be young girls to her. “Alcohol?”

“Oh, Amos liked his moonshine as much as any man. I used to wish that was his vice.”

She didn't say more, and I didn't dare pry. But it occurred to me that if Natasha actually found moonshine-drinking
Amos, he might embarrass her more than her mother did. Maybe finding him was one of those wishes to be careful about. If it came true, she might be very disappointed.

“Where were you bright and early this morning, sunshine?” Wanda asked.

I slid the omelets onto yellow plates and brought them to the table. I took a moment to add forks, knives, salt and pepper, and place the croissants on a plate before I joined Wanda. I considered taking the easy road and telling her I had been walking Daisy. But it occurred to me that if Wanda had been with Robert the night before she might have useful information about his condition.

“I went over to Robert's house.”

Wanda almost dropped her fork. “Why, Sophie! What is it with you girls? Are you and Natasha vying for the same man again?”

I gulped coffee to brace myself. “Natasha might be interested in him, but I'm not. Were you with him last night?”

“Sure
sounds
like you've got a yen for Robert.” Wanda shot an exaggerated wink at me.

“He's very ill, Wanda. I'm not being nosy about your love life. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance. If you were with him, you might be able to shed some light on his illness.” I stopped short of adding
and you might be sick, too
.

This time her fork really did clank to her plate. “Ill? What kind of
ill
?”

“I don't know. He was having trouble breathing and seemed stiff. Like he couldn't move.”

“Sounds like he needs a dose of lobelia. That or pot, which is excellent for clearing the airways. Do you grow either one?” She resumed eating.

Pot? Was she kidding? “I'm, um, sorry but I don't. So did you see him last night?”

She nodded and wiped her mouth. “Should have brought some with me. I usually travel with medicinals but I was in such a hurry that I didn't pack many. Robert took me out to dinner. Sugar, it was so pretty. They served miserly portions, but the food was arranged on the plate like art.”

“And afterward?” I savored the earthy flavor of the mushrooms in the omelet.

“Just to be clear, we invited Natasha along but she stayed home and had a pout party.”

“She wasn't afraid to be alone?” I asked.

“Darlin', we invited her to come! If she was afraid she should have come with us.”

“Did Robert seem sick?”

“Now that I think about it, we called it quits a little earlier than I'd have liked because he felt queasy. He'd been to the restroom a few times and barely picked at his food.”

Wanda broke a ham croissant in two and took a bite. She swallowed and smiled at me. “I know this is fancy food, honey, but nothing beats a real ham biscuit. Tell me, where is this hospital? I think I should pay poor Robert a visit.”

I wrote down the name of the hospital for her and drew a crude map.

“Natasha says they have everything here,” Wanda said. “Do you know where I could find lobelia or cannabis?”

Maybe I had been too quick to dismiss Natasha's complaints about her mom. I could honestly say that was a question my mother had never asked me. “Maybe Natasha would know?”

“If she's speakin' to me! Thank you for breakfast, sweetheart.”

“Let me know how Robert is?”

She promised and walked out the kitchen door.

I checked the time. “No problem,” I told Daisy. “We're still on schedule.”

In the afternoon, I walked Daisy, showered, blew my hair dry, and dressed to get through cocktails. It was early, but if anything went wrong, I wouldn't be stuck going to my own event inappropriately dressed. My midnight-blue sheath with a V-neck looked perfect. Sleek enough for office-to-dinner wear. I added dangling blue druzy earrings that sparkled when the light hit them. My one dress-it-up-with-bling
concession was a chunky link bracelet with fake pavé diamonds on every other link. If time permitted later, I would retrieve shoes with higher heels, but for now, I slid my feet into matching midnight-blue flats with a hint of glitter on the toes.

Daisy followed me down the stairs and watched with a smidgen of anxiety as I slid on a light coat and prepared to leave the house. Mochie had settled on the window seat in the kitchen. I kissed the top of Daisy's head, promised her I would be back in a few hours, and locked the kitchen door behind me. I peeked in the window of the door and watched as Daisy settled near Mochie.

A breeze blew past, making me wonder if I should have worn a warmer coat. No matter. I wouldn't be that far from home. I set off at a brisk pace on the brick sidewalk. Old Town buzzed with people and traffic. I was glad I didn't have to find a parking spot.