The Obituary Society (4 page)

Chapter 6

Maids of Honor

Ada held her breath as she transferred her Maids of Honor to a cooling rack.  The tiny cakes were delicate specimens of perfection, so light they were locally famous for melting in one's mouth, or so Lila had been told.  She couldn't wait to test the claim herself. 

“
You’ve outdone yourself today, Aunt Ada.”  Lila finished her morning tea and rinsed her mug in the white farmhouse sink.  “The ladies of the Obituary Society will think you’re putting on airs.  Especially since you refuse to give them the recipe.”  She tried to sneak one off the rack, but was thwarted with a whack of Ada’s metal spatula.  It appeared Ada was in rare form today, and Lila couldn't help but be encouraged to tease her.  The sting in her fingers felt like the warmth of acceptance.

Ada began assembling ingredients for the frosting.  “You know very well we are the Auburn Ladies' Society.  And I’ll have you know, this is an old family recipe.  It goes back to our pioneer ancestry.  You don’t just pass something like that around.”

Lila was still shaking the sting out of her fingers.  “I don’t think it’s the heritage of the recipe, or even the quality that matters anyway, is it?” she baited.  “The best recipe is the one that takes hours to make.  You're all a bunch of little old martyrs.”

“
Well, if that’s what you think, you don't have to eat one,” Ada answered stiffly as she scraped soft butter into the bowl.  “ Anyway, that's certainly not true of the Bell sisters.  They aren't the best of cooks.”  She glanced around as if someone might be listening.  “In fact, often times their desserts are
store bought
.  Not that anyone would mention it, except maybe Betsy Barker.”  She closed her eyes and shook her head.  “That woman has no tact.”  She rushed to the fridge and pulled out a pint of milk.

“
But they are extraordinary gardeners,” she continued.  “Their peonies are the biggest I've ever seen, and no one can get their secret.  I happen to know Betsy even offered to trade her mother's lemon meringue pie recipe.”

Ada, beginning to feel rushed, turned the mixer on and poured the powdered sugar in too quickly, resulting in a fine white cloud of sweetness that hung in the kitchen.  The late morning rays of sunshine lit up the tiny particles like fairy dust.

She called out over the whir of the mixer and pointed.  “Lila, be a dear and put a fresh doily on the table for me.  They’re in that bottom drawer.”

The doorbell rang.

“And could you get that, please?”

Lila grabbed a doily and spread it out on the table, then hurried to open the door.  Gladys Ellison stood staring into her through her large bifocals.  She smiled and presented Lila with a crystal bowl filled with a frothy fruit salad creation as she stepped in. 

“How are you, dear?  It’s good to see you again.  You look so pretty, but I'm afraid you're cold.  Don’t you want to put on a sweater?”  Lila's eyes were wide with disbelief.  She felt like she'd been locked in a sauna since she came here. 

“
Maybe you just need to eat more,”  Gladys continued.  She patted and squeezed Lila's bare arm with one withered hand and handed her the bowl with the other.

Lila smiled graciously and hung Gladys's jacket before ushering her to a floral-patterned chair.  She placed the bowl on the table.

“Have you met my grandson Max yet?”  Gladys asked eagerly.  “It was a shame, you just missed him at the store the other day.” 

“
Well, I—”  The doorbell rang and Lila breathed a sigh of relief, then hurried to answer it.  She couldn't tell this sweet woman that her grandson was a jerk.

Matilda and Leona Bell stood on the porch, each of them carrying an offering for the meeting.  Lila caught herself glancing at a plate of cookies, as if the word “OREO” might be stamped into the middle of each one.  She blinked her eyes, momentarily stunned at what she had done.  It was one of those surreal moments where she suddenly wondered how she came to be this person, in a place she'd never imagined herself being.

She looked back up at the ladies and smiled.  She recognized them from the funeral, but was relived when they introduced themselves again.  She'd forgotten which was which.  Matilda was the taller one, although it was difficult to tell how much of the height difference was due to posture.  Her silver hair was short and tidy, and a cross hung just over the top of her soft grey blouse.

Leona stood beside her, her grin unrestrained.  She wore a sweatshirt with a flower on the front, hand-painted with long, loose strokes.  She looked to be the younger of the two, although her golden-blond hair was probably dyed. 

“Do you like it?”  Leona asked, her eyes following Lila's to the sweatshirt.  “I painted it myself.  I sell them at the art fairs.”

“
It's beautiful,” Lila answered.

“
I'll paint one for you.”  When Leona smiled, her cheeks were apple round and her eyes crinkled.

“
I'd like that.”  Lila couldn't help but return the eager smile.

“
So sorry, ladies.”  Ada breezed in from the kitchen, her Maids of Honor perched on a white cake stand.  “I was just frosting the cakes.  Is Betsy coming today?”

The ladies glanced at each other, brows raised at the sight of the delicacy.  “She was out watering her begonias when I drove by.  I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Matilda said.

Ada carefully arranged the food on the table, along with delicate dishes, flatware, and serving spoons.  There was a knock on the door, and she rushed to answer it.  Betsy Barker bustled in, hair piled high, loud-patterned blouse cut low.  She was ready to compete, with a plate full of fresh strawberry tarts.

Ada brought in the mint tea, and soon everyone was settled with refreshments.  Lila dragged a folding chair to the corner of the room, then snatched one of the coveted Maids of Honor and sat down to watch as she savored the little cake.  She was curious about Ada's meetings, but hoped to remain as invisible as possible.

Matilda was eager to begin the day’s proceedings.  “Did you hear about my cousin’s boy, Henry?”  All eyes were on the sisters.  “He was in a horrible motorcycle accident,” Leona said.

“
It was terrible,” Matilda continued.  “His mother is so broken up.  He was their only boy.  He’d gone kind of wild, you know.  And then he bought that motorcycle.  We were all afraid something like this would happen.”

They all clucked and nodded their heads.

“Sheryl Paulsen finally passed away,” Betty began.  “Remember her?  She had that boy that wrote for the newspaper in Papillion.  They thought she was doing so much better.  They took her to the cancer center and everything.  But it came back and she got bad fast.”

“
Sheryl was a good person,” said Leona.  “She didn't deserve that.  I'd rather go quickly.  Even if it wasn't in a nice way. 
He
got better than he deserved.”

The room changed, as if someone had twisted the tuning pegs of a guitar, and a pluck into the air would produce a too-sharp note.  The last bite of Lila's cake stuck in her throat as she tried to swallow it.  Who was
he
?

Matilda nudged Leona sharply.  “You're not supposed to talk about that,” she hissed.  The air felt suddenly chilly, and the ladies wrapped their hands around their soft suede arms or glanced at their jackets hanging by the door, wondering if they ought to have kept them on. 

They all looked at Ada, who cleared her throat and said in a quiet voice,  “You know, Tabitha Lawrence fell the other morning, just going out to get the paper.  She’s very fortunate she didn’t break a hip, like my cousin Alma did just last month.”  Whispers of agreement went round the room, followed by a chorus of soft leather purses unzipping and bony fingers poking around to find and smooth out their obituary clippings.

Chapter 7

Sold

Lila followed Ada and Gladys up the steps of the First United Methodist Church, carrying two loaves of Ada's homemade bread tightly wrapped in cellophane.  Ada peeked back at Lila over the top of a cake box.  “The auction is always such fun.  You won't believe the things people bring.”

“I wish I had something to offer,” Lila said.

“
No one expects you to bring anything, dear,” Ada replied.  “But who knows, maybe you'll pick up a little something for yourself.”

“
I'm sure I'll find something to bid on.” 

A woman walked past them, carrying a large purple hat with a stuffed bird attached to the brim.  Gladys pointed to it.  “That would look lovely on you, Lila.  And you know it will be good quality.  Her husband's a taxidermist.”

Lila clamped her mouth shut, making a mental note to stick to baked goods.

An older man with a distinguished air and large brown eyes met them at the door.  Lila remembered the pastor from the funeral, but she'd met so many people, she couldn't recall his name.  He said good morning to Gladys and Ada, who had their hands full, then stuck a long-fingered hand out toward Lila.  She tucked a loaf of bread under one arm and shook his hand.

“Lila, you remember Pastor Lucas,” Ada said. 

Pastor Lucas gave her a kind smile.  “How have you been, Lila.  I've been thinking about you.”

“I'm okay, thank you.  Aunt Ada's been good to me.”

“
I'm sure she has.  You'll eat well there, for sure.”  He grinned at Ada.  “I'm glad you're still in town.  I hoped you'd stay with us awhile.”

“
Why is that?”  He seemed so genuine, Lila had to ask.

“
I was curious to see how like your father you would be.”  The twinkle in his eye did not go unnoticed by Lila.
“You'll have to let me know,” Lila said.  “We'll be at service on Sunday.”

“
I'll hold you to that,” he answered in a pleasant tone.

The ladies shuffled through the door and proceeded to the large room at the back of the church, then placed their offerings on one of the long tables lined up at the front of the room.  Lila's eyes scanned the collection of frosted cupcakes, brownies, breads, multi-colored afghans, jewelry, and other hand-crafted items.  The purple hat was even more shocking close up.  The bird's beady black eyes stared at her in an accusing way. 

There were several pieces of paper as well, and she squinted to read the handwritten words:  one free haircut and style at Goldie's Locks; lawn mowing services for a month; two Sunday dinners; one Saturday handyman.  She smiled, curious who the handyman was, and wondering how much he could accomplish at the old house in one Saturday.  He probably wouldn't get past the front porch.

The women turned around, and spotted a group of open folding chairs.  It took several minutes to reach them, however.  Lila smiled and nodded until her head spun as the ladies introduced her to one neighbor after another on the way to their seats.

They sat down, Ada next to the aisle, Gladys beside her, and then Lila.  Gladys craned her neck, peering around the woman in front of her.  “I told you we should have come earlier.  We're four rows back.  I hope we don't miss the good stuff.”

Ada wrinkled her lips.  “I'm sorry, but I just had my hair fixed yesterday, and Goldie really did a number on it this time.  It took me forever to get it under control.  Anyway, we can see just fine.”

The items on the tables kept piling up as the rows of chairs behind them filled in.  Betsy Barker slid into the empty chair beside Lila, wearing an orange, off-the-shoulder blouse.  Gladys and Ada eyed her, brows raised. 

“
Here are your paddles, ladies.”  Betsy handed each of them a numbered paddle.  She waved hers up and down with enthusiasm.  “Just practicing.  Susan Walters outbid me last year on a Brazilian wax and mani-pedi package.  I'm not going to let that happen again.”  She glared across the aisle at a blonde woman a good twenty years younger than herself.

Matilda walked in, her face obscured by an arrangement of gorgeous peonies.  Leona followed with one of her hand-painted sweat shirts.  They placed their items on a table and found two empty seats behind Lila and Gladys.

The excited chatter lowered to a hum, then a whisper as a grinning older man in a crisply ironed shirt and blue jeans spoke into a microphone.  His voice was deep, his inflection that of a showman's.  “Testing.  Welcome ladies and gents.”

Betsy grinned.  “That's my Eddie.  He's been doing this for years.”

“We appreciate all of you who have come out today for our annual auction, and for the marvelous contributions.”  Eddie gestured to the tables.  “As you know, the proceeds will go toward church events, and much-needed materials, such as new hymn books and bibles.  Let's get started.”

Pastor Lucas handed Eddie the first item.  “To kick things off we have a lovely cross-stitch for the kitchen.  It says 'kissin' don't last, cookin' do'.”  Eddie gave Betsy a sly smile.  “'Course I take whatever I can get.  Do we have five dollars to start the bidding?  Five dollars right there.”  Eddie continued, his words running smoothly like a new John Deere.  “How about ten dollars?  Ten dollars for this one-of-a-kind item, from Mrs. Erikson's heart to your kitchen.  Ten dollars right there.  Do we have fifteen?  Fifteen dollars.  How about twenty?  Twenty?  Going once, going twice, sold, to Diane Swanson for fifteen dollars.”

Lila was amused at how quickly Eddie moved through the items.  Ada and Gladys had a bit of a scuffle over a birdhouse, hand crafted by Elmer Greene.  Ada was not to be outdone, and by the time it was over she'd bid sixty dollars for the birdhouse. 

It turned out Mr. Greene was the Saturday handyman.  Lila figured if she was going to bid on something, it may as well be something she really needed.  Besides, the purple hat went to a man named Joe Rigby, whose wife asked him to pick out something nice for her.  Lila wished him the best.

“Do I hear sixty dollars for the Saturday handyman?  He'll come to your home on a Saturday of your choosing to work on those home projects your husband's been avoiding.  Sixty dollars right there.  How about seventy dollars?  Seventy.  Do we have eighty?  Right there.  How about ninety?” 

Lila raised her paddle.  “One hundred twenty.”

“One hundred twenty dollars.  Hundred thirty?  Going once, going twice, sold, to Ada Foster's sweet niece for one hundred twenty dollars.  From what I hear, you're going to need this.  I hope Elmer's a good painter.”  He chuckled and handed her the piece of paper with Elmer Greene's number.  Ada smiled at her, eyes sparkling, and gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie was about half-way through the donations when Lila caught the door open out of the corner of her eye.  She straightened to get a look at the guy who walked toward one of the tables lugging a computer.  She couldn't see his face, but it looked like he was young.  She couldn't help but notice the way the load he carried showed off the muscles in his arms. 

When he looked up, her eyes darted away.  She'd recognized the dark glasses and the 'haven't-shaved-or-really-brushed-my-hair-today' look.  Lila snorted.  When Gladys turned to look at her, she quickly erased the scowl and feigned a cough.

“
What do we have here?”  Eddie asked.

“
Looks like Max Ellison. I'll pay twenty dollars.”

Lila leaned forward.  Susan Walters stared at Max, her red lips turned up.

Max's eyes were wide.  He set down the computer and smoothed his plaid shirt with his hands.  “Sorry to interrupt.  I finally finished this computer.  It's completely refurbished.  I'll just get out of your way now.”             

A voice in the back of the room said, “I'll pay forty.”

Pastor Lucas fidgeted in his chair, his eyes bulging.  Max's face reddened.  He laughed and crossed behind Eddie.  But Eddie put a hand on Max's chest, stopping him.   

A smile spread across Eddie's face.  “We're always up for creative new contributions.  We don't want to hurt old Max's feelings, though.  An evening out with a healthy young man is worth a lot more than forty dollars.”  Max stiffened, his eyes stuck on the exit.  Pastor Lucas stood up, his tense hands suspended in mid-air, his mouth hanging open.

“Do we have fifty?  Fifty right there.  How about sixty?  Sixty dollars.  We can do better than that.”

Oh, he's got to love this
, Lila thought, glaring as the spectacle continued.  Max did look uncomfortable, though.  Maybe he was too good for the prospective bidders. 

Gladys elbowed Lila, but Lila looked straight ahead as if she didn't notice.

Gladys leaned over.  “If you won't do it, I'll get him for you.”  Lila whipped toward Gladys.  Her hands flew to stop the paddle. 

“
Sixty-five dollars!”  Gladys's paddle shot up into the air.  Lila froze. 
This wasn't happening
.

“
Saved by Grandma,” Eddie said.  “Any eligible young ladies out there going to fight Grandma for him?”

“
Seventy,” a woman's voice called.

“
Eighty,” Gladys shouted, tugging the paddle from Lila's grip.

“
Do we have eighty-five?  Going once, going twice, sold, to Grandma Gladys.  You two have a splendid evening.  I suppose she'll have you making freezer jam.”

“
Oh, he's not for me.”  Gladys placed a hand on Lila's shoulder. 

A look of recognition crossed Max's mortified features and Lila covered her face. 

Matilda batted Gladys with her paddle from behind.  “In a church, of all places,” she hissed.

Lila turned her head as the sound of shoes clacked across the floor.  Asher Whiting strode to the front of the room, dressed in his sharp suit, his hair perfectly styled. 

“If you don't mind, Eddie, I haven't had a date in awhile.”  He blessed the room with a wide, good-humored smile.  Several women grasped their paddles.  She wasn't sure, but she thought Asher winked at her.

“
Certainly.  Let's start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

Pastor Lucas raised his hands to his balding head.  He looked like he might cry.

“Sixty dollars,” Susan Walters said.

“
Seventy,” a voice behind Lila called.  Lila looked back, and Leona smiled and shrugged.  Matilda whacked her with her paddle.

“
Eighty-five,” a brunette on the first row shouted.

Betsy Barker grabbed Lila's hand and raised it, shouting, “Ninety,” so fast Lila hardly knew what was happening.

“Ninety-five anyone?  Going once, going twice, sold to—,” Eddie gave his wife a confused look, then understanding dawned on his face,  “to Miss Lila Moore.  Congratulations.  Looks like you're going to get a fine welcome to Auburn.  Just not from any of the young ladies.  Hey, maybe we need to have
you
come up here.  What do you say?”

Lila glowered at Betsy, then dropped her head.