Mother (47 page)

“She an author, is she?”

“Wants to be, anyway.” He opened the journal.

“She any good?”

Jason met the man’s eyes. “I don’t know yet. I need to read and find out.”

Jake sighed and contented himself with piloting the little plane.
 

Within moments, Jason found himself genuinely involved in the entries. This journal had been on top - Claire said it was the one she was last reading. He saw a paperclip halfway through, marking where she’d left off, but he began at the beginning. It was full of sketches of cars, and poems about Tim’s girlfriend Steffie - the woman Paul was flying in from Arizona.
The psychiatrist.
 

Then he arrived at the paper clipped page and a knot formed in his gut.
She started lecturing me about abstinence, and I got so mad I talked back and told her that in Sex Ed they said that wet dreams are normal. All guys have them. She got in my face and screamed at me for telling lies in front of my sister.
 

“Good stuff?” asked Jake. “Want to read some aloud? I’m a good listener.”

“Oh, I don’t think my wife would like that. She’s very private.”

Jake sighed. “Alright, you’re the boss.”

Lunchtime Confessions

Father Andy smiled at Babs Vandercooth. “I’m glad you’d like to run for Auxiliary president.” He sipped his glass of Chardonnay and watched Babs drain hers. He’d been as surprised by the invitation to lunch at the Daffodil Grill as he’d been when she suggested, in no uncertain terms, they start their meal with wine. He happily accepted, in part because he could tell Babs needed to relax. “How long have you been thinking of running?”

The wine pinked her cheeks, giving her a youthful look. “Oh, since this morning when Prissy got under my skin.” She paused. “Drink up. I want a second glass.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He finished his off. “Maybe you should think it over a while before you decide to run. There’s time, you know. I wouldn’t want you to do it simply out of spite.” But he dearly hoped she would run, and win. After Priscilla Martin’s behavior at the Collins funeral, he hadn’t been able to make himself have a single kind thought about the woman. She’d flashed Dave Flannigan during Communion, too; and when Andy had given her the Holy Eucharist, the woman had sucked his finger into her mouth, swirled her tongue around it, and looked at him with pure sin in her eyes.
At a funeral!
It was reprehensible that she would dishonor the Collins family that way. Or the church. She didn’t deserve to be president, but he’d taken Father Dave’s warnings seriously and would not confront her.
God may forgive her, but I don’t know if I can.

“I understand your concerns about my running and I’ll sleep on it, but I doubt I’ll change my mind.” She waved over the server and ordered two more glasses.

“Babs, your disagreement with Priscilla is none of my business, but I would like to know why you’ve made this decision.”

“It’s been a long time coming. I’ve always been Prissy’s right hand, and I’m tired of it, but I’ll tell you true - what really prompted this ...” She paused while the server replaced the wine glasses. “Cheers. What prompted this was the fact that Priscilla watched them scrape Geneva-Marie’s body off the street, calm as you please, then looked me in the eye and told me she was glad she wouldn’t have any competition for the presidency. She didn’t even pretend to care.” Babs sipped her wine. “Father, I don’t mean to be a gossip.”

“You’re not gossiping.” Andy watched her. Babs Vandercooth had always been friendly, but shy and retiring, lost in Priscilla Martin’s shadow. He’d once overheard someone in the Auxiliary refer to her as Priscilla’s lapdog, and he’d secretly thought it apt. Now she had a different look, and he liked it. “You seem very sure of yourself, Babs.”

She blinked. “You know, I
do
feel sure of myself. I calmly stood up to Priscilla this morning for the first time in my life - and I’ve known her since I was a little girl.”

“You have the patience of a saint.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but Babs smiled, a twinkle in her eye.

“Thank you, Father Andy. I think you’re right, and I also think I’ve finally come to my senses. I’d like to explain a little more about what happened.”

“My lips would be sealed even if I weren’t a priest.”

“Yesterday, I visited Claire while Prissy was at the Auxiliary luncheon. That girl doesn’t look good, Father. She’s too thin to be four months pregnant, and she has dark shadows under her eyes. She’d obviously been crying, and that’s not like her. She insisted she was fine, but I know better. She’s not fine at all.” She swallowed another mouthful of Chardonnay. “This morning when I went back over to talk about the spring potluck we’re having this weekend, Pris knew I’d seen Claire, and she wasn’t happy about it.”

“I would think she’d appreciate you keeping her company.”

“No. Prissy doesn’t like to share, nor does she like anyone to go upstairs in her house. I’ve respected that until now. But the point is, for the first time in my life, I argued with her. I’m just so irritated, you know? Between Claire’s appearance and Prissy’s reaction to Geneva-Marie’s death, I can’t just stand by any longer. When she began ordering me around - instructing me to tell our neighbors what to bring to the potluck - well, I just lost it.”

“I can’t imagine you losing it, Babs.” He smiled.

She chuckled. “Evidently, for me, standing up for myself is ‘losing it’.”

They sat back while the server delivered their food. Andy’s stomach rumbled with joy at the sight of the spicy chicken burger. As soon as Babs put a fork to her salad, he began eating, and continued until the first hunger pangs were vanquished. “You’ve known Priscilla a very long time.”

“Yes, and she’s been good to Carl and me. Many, many years ago, Carl had a flirtation with gambling and we would have lost our house if Prissy hadn’t stepped in. I’ve always felt I owed her for that and I know that debt has been repaid many times over, but I still felt like I owed her - and I recently realized that it’s not me being unsure of myself. She encourages it. At the yard and bake sale in January she was bullying Carl, and Quinton Everett overheard.” Babs shook her head slowly. “My, oh my. I’ve never liked the man - we’ve heard so many unsavory things about him - but he gave her a talking to and by the end of the week, she was no longer a co-signer on our loan. Mr. Everett took care of everything.”

“Babs, where did you hear unsavory things about Quinton Everett?”

“Why, I don’t know. I’ve heard them forever. Everyone on the sac knows he has a taste for young men.”

“Where did you hear that the first time, can you recall?”

Babs looked at the ceiling, thinking. “Prissy. She told me that years ago when we were taking out our home loan. We were all so young. Quinton was a loan officer back then.” She paused, her eyes on him, opening wider in realization. “You don’t think she made that up, do you?”

“Let me tell you about Quinton Everett,” Andy said. “It’s not exactly common knowledge and I don’t think he likes to talk about it, so please keep this to yourself.”

“All right …”

“Quinton Everett is a war hero and has a purple heart for an injury he sustained.” Andy hesitated. What he was about to say wasn’t from the confessional, but it still felt as if he were talking out of turn.
But it’s for the good of Quinton and everyone else
. “Quinton’s injury destroyed his, uh, testicles.”

“Oh, my. I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. And neither does Priscilla. But she made up the rumor about pedophilia. It’s patently untrue. The man has no libido at all.”

Babs nodded. “Poor Quinton. But Father, he does always seem to be involved with young boys.”

“And girls,” Andy said. “Quinton loves kids and can’t have any of his own, for obvious reasons. He loves coaching them, teaching them, seeing to it they have what they need. He donates to our Orphaned Children’s Fund and many other kids’ charities. Big donations. He grew up in the Midwest with three brothers - all of them died in the war.”

“But-”

“Volunteers. They all joined willingly to serve their country, but only Quinton came back. He has a great nostalgia for his childhood with his brothers and friends. They were into Little League in a big way. And their church choir. Altar boys, all of them. What he does, he does out of love, not out of lust.”

“I never should have taken Prissy at her word.”

“You couldn’t know.”

She hesitated. “Father Andy, I’m ashamed of myself for being a coward.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“I hate confrontation so much that I’ve kept my mouth shut many times over the years. I never had children of my own, so I felt I had no right to say anything when I thought Prissy didn’t pay enough attention to Claire - but she was happy to let me take care of her and that made
me
happy. But before that, with her son, Timothy, I really should have spoken up. She was too, um, protective of him.”

“Protective?”

Babs nodded. “She never wanted him out of her sight and tried to discourage his friends. She wouldn’t let them stay over or let him stay at their houses. But there’s more.” She finished her wine in one swallow. “When Timothy was about ten she mentioned that when he had nightmares, she had him sleep with her.”

Andy raised his eyebrows. “Ten seems a bit old to share a bed with a parent of the opposite sex.”

“One day, when he was fourteen, she mentioned it again. Fourteen, Father! But she said it with such innocence that I never questioned it, until one day when I asked Claire if she ever had nightmares. She said she had plenty, so I asked if she slept with her mother on those nights. She looked shocked and told me Prissy had said only cowards have nightmares. Can you imagine saying that to a child?”

Andy gulped down his wine. “That’s deplorable. Her treatment of Claire was wrong, but her treatment of her son … to say the least, it’s inappropriate. Seductive.” He paused. “Do you think she’s tried to seduce other, uh, inappropriate parties?”

“I think she’s the reason Father Dave retired early.” Babs looked him straight in the eye.

Andy knocked over his empty wine glass. “Excuse me. I wish I could address that.” He heard himself stammer. “I can tell you that she tried to entice at least one other …” He couldn’t say it.
 

“You, Father?” She didn’t sound at all surprised.
 

He gave a bare nod. He wanted to tell her about Priscilla’s flashing and finger sucking at the Collins funeral but that was too much like gossip. “She’s a rather aggressive woman.”

“Prissy thinks that if she wants something, she can have it. Nothing will stop her.” The server brought two coffees. Babs stirred hers. “She has always used sex to get what she wants. As handsome as you are, Father Andy, she was only out to get something from you, or to put you in her debt. In her younger days, she was a stunning beauty and it was a rare man who could refuse her.” Babs lowered her voice. “Why, she tried to seduce Quinton Everett for years because she wanted a lower interest rate on her house.” She went thoughtful. “I think I know now why she hates him so much. Why she spread that vicious rumor. He ignored her.”

“No doubt. I suspect that in my case, she wanted me to support her plan to move our homeless shelter out of town.”

“Likely,” Babs agreed. “And she’s hoping you’ll stuff the ballot box for her.”

Andy nodded.
 

The server brought the check and Babs snatched it. “My treat.”

“Thank you.”

She put her Visa on the tray, then sat forward even though there was no one nearby. “Thank you for talking with me about all of this.”

“Thank
you
. We’ve both benefitted, I think.”

“We have. I know I’m right about my concern for Claire. Yesterday, I meant to have a frank talk with her and tell her she needs to leave her mother’s house, but she seemed too frail, so I didn’t bring it up. Tonight, I’m going to phone her husband about it.”

“That’s a wise decision.”

Babs nodded. “I think so, too. I can’t give my loyalty to Priscilla anymore. I need to help Claire and Jason, and their baby, and that’s what I’ll do.”

“Good.”

“I also want to tell you that I don’t need to think overnight about throwing my hat in the ring for the Ladies’ Auxiliary. I’m ready to make it official.”

“Indeed, I agree. You’ll make a fine president.”

“I’ll run in honor of Geneva-Marie.” Babs filled out the check and stood. “Father, are you planning to come to the potluck this Saturday? Carl is going to be grilling hot dogs, much to Pris’ displeasure. She wants hamburgers.”

Andy chuckled. “Tell Carl to save a couple for me.”

Snapping Dragons

After giving Frederick and Carlene their lunches, Prissy, bearing notes addressed to her neighbors, began a brisk walk around Morning Glory Circle. She was still in shock, unable to believe Barbara had thrown a tantrum - even as a child, she had been placid and easygoing.
Must be menopause.
Priscilla could think of no other reason for her recent behavior. None.

The Sachs had a profusion of seedlings lining their walkway, and some were beginning to bloom - all pink, like their garish house. It wasn’t creative - they never tried to win the street contest - but perverted as they were, at least they made an effort. Prissy had no desire to speak to that tawdry Audrey, Candy Sachs, so she left a note in the mailbox asking them to provide coleslaw for the potluck.

Duane Pruitt and his houseboy hadn’t planted a single flower yet. She stared at the unadorned yard. It wasn’t like them. She strode up the front walk as their damned dog barked at her from behind the backyard gate. She rang the bell, then knocked. Finally, the Oriental opened the door a few inches and peered out. “Yes?”

“Would you ask Duane to provide a platter of cookies for the potluck this Saturday?”

The man scrutinized her. “I’ll mention it to him, but don’t count on us. You must understand that Duane is in mourning.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose he would be, but perhaps this will snap him out of it. I see you haven’t even planted yet.” She tried to see inside, but the house was dark.