Organized to Death (7 page)

As she drove up to the house, she saw, parked in the street, Hank’s silver Jaguar. A thrum of excitement beat at her heart, and she climbed out of the car in a happier mood.

Hank and her mother sat in the living room on the old, comfortably shabby Victorian furniture. Her mother was laughing at something Hank said, and Tina looked at the two of them with bemusement. Her mother claimed that Hank was a most unsuitable person for Tina to date. Tina protested that they were just friends and weren’t going out. Now Laura sat there, seemingly charmed by him. Tina supposed she’d never understand her mother.

Hank stood as Tina entered. He made no move to touch her or hug her. He checked her over from foot to head, his silvery-gray eyes lingering on her face. She gave a slight shiver.

“Hi!” Her over-bright voice sounded false to her own ears.

“Hello,” they both replied.

Her mother sat in her chair, watching Tina and Hank with narrowed eyes. Defiantly, Tina stepped closer to Hank and pecked him on the cheek. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” she said.

“Been busy.”

Doing what?
She wondered, but knew better than to ask.

“I’m taking you out to dinner. I figured you need cheering up.”

“And you’re just the man to do it,” Tina said with a laugh. “Cheerful Hank.”

He looked nonplused. Tina laughed harder, and she noticed that even her mother had a ghost of a smile.

“Where are we going to have this cheerful meal?” Tina asked.

“Don’t push your luck,” her mother said. “Hank might rescind his invitation.”

“It was an invitation?” Tina asked. She couldn’t seem to help herself, baiting Hank tonight. “I thought it was a command performance. Do I need to change? Scratch that. I definitely need to change.” She smelled of cleaning supplies and felt as if the grime from the kitchen had been transferred to her own body. “Hank, you can continue to amuse Mother while I take a quick shower and change.”

“… don’t know what’s gotten into her lately,” she heard her mother say as she left the room. Tina grinned.

She walked up the broad, winding front stairs. In her bathroom, she threw her clothes in the hamper and took a quick shower. She dressed in a dark blue, slinky short dress that showed off her figure, glad for the impulse purchase now. Carefully, she applied a bit of makeup, especially around her still-swollen eyes. She took her silver heels and a silver purse from the closet and stuffed the absolute necessities from her bigger, everyday one inside. She put on lots of jangly silver bracelets, a necklace, three rings, and even an ankle bracelet over her pantyhose-clad legs. Tina loved getting dressed up, except for the pantyhose, although she would never admit it to her mother. Laura had even sent her to charm school when she was in seventh grade, so she knew how to walk down the stairs without tripping in her high heels.

Hank stood up again when she entered the living room. Tina glanced at her mother, who would approve of the dress, the heels, bag, and hose, but disapprove of all the jewelry. A quick thought of an ankle tattoo went through Tina’s mind, and she grinned a big grin at Hank. He, of course, thought the grin was meant for him, and he gave her a doubtful look. Usually she was careful not to be “girlish” around him, but tonight she felt the need to lighten up.

Uncle Bob came into the living room, looked at Tina, and gave a low whistle. Everyone laughed, and on that note, Tina and Hank left. She climbed carefully into the Jaguar, but still showed a lot of leg. Same when she got out in front of Canfield House. Hank took her arm, and they walked inside.

Calm. Tina sank into the plush booth and let out a huge sigh. She loved this place. Quiet, elegant, it made her feel she was back in an earlier time.

They ordered drinks and a shrimp cocktail, and while they waited for those, studied the menu although both knew it by heart. Tina ordered the grilled scallops, and Hank a porterhouse steak. After their drinks and appetizer were set down in front of them, Hank said, “You went back to work, and it helped.”

She nodded. “Made me quite cheerful.”

He gave her a Hank look. The one he used when he thought she was being silly. It made him look much older, and it amused her. His dark brows came close together over his eyes, and his firm mouth got a pinched look as if he’d eaten something sour.

Thoughts of Crystal came flooding back, and Tina had the sudden, horrible realization that she, too, could die at any moment. There was so much in life she still wanted to do and so many questions she wanted answered. Especially about Hank.

“I hear your mother’s in town,” she said.

“Yes.” His face shut down. Not even a Hank look gave anything away.

“Where does she go all the time, Hank? She’s not ill, is she?”

“No, not ill.”

An uncomfortable silence arose between them. The waitress cleared the appetizer and served their salads.

“You didn’t answer me. Where does she go?”

“It’s really none of your business, Tina.” Still, no expression. Even his eyes looked dead.

“We’ve been friends for years now, Hank. Almost three decades! Friends generally know more about each other than we do. At least, you know a lot more about me than I do about you or your family.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He tried to smile, but didn’t quite make it. “Or marry you.”

She gasped. Her fork fell from her hand with a clatter onto the crystal salad dish. The “m” word had never passed his lips before. She stared at him while he fumbled with his cocktail glass.

“Scratch that,” he said.

She didn’t know whether to be amused, outraged, happy, or sad. She’d tried to imagine how it would be to marry Hank, but her mind wouldn’t go there. It was easy enough to think of being married to Brandon. She knew it would be a comfortable life with him. No surprises. Maybe a tad boring after a while.

She doubted Hank would ever bore her, but sometimes he scared her, and they both pulled away when things got too personal, like now. Whatever had possessed her? Crystal’s death.

“One of my best friends just died, Hank. I don’t want to die.” Her throat closed up, and she took a sip of her daiquiri. “But I also don’t want to live with all these questions … “

He took her hand. “Doll, there’s no way you can have all the answers in this life. You might as well ask me why we were born, why the sky is blue, and how giraffes came to be.”

His hand warmed her icy one. She hadn’t realized how cold she was. She felt shriveled, diminished, confused.

“Are you saying you don’t know where your mother goes when she disappears?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” He took his hand away from hers and looked off into the distance.

She felt bereft. She’d lost Crystal. She couldn’t lose Hank, too, and if she pushed him any more, that was a real possibility.

“I’m sorry I asked,” she said.

He nodded and looked at her. The old Hank was back. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The next morning Tina sat at the breakfast table with Uncle Bob, reading the paper, when the phone rang. Tina waited for the answering machine to get it. Most people she knew in Newport her mother’s age and older didn’t use cell phones or caller ID. It had taken a lot for Tina to get Laura to buy an answering machine. All the telemarketing calls had finally convinced her to do that.

At first all Tina could hear was sobbing, then finally Rachel said, “Tina, you there?”

Tina grabbed the receiver. “I’m here, Rach.”

“Did you see the paper?”

“Oh, Rach, yes, I did. I’m so sorry.”

“You saw what they wrote about our house?” More sobs.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tina felt suddenly tired, as if she hadn’t slept at all last night. She’d had a nightmare about Crystal and couldn’t go back to sleep for over an hour. “Everyone will forget about it eventually,” she reassured Rachel, rubbing her forehead. She knew that wasn’t true. No one would ever forget. She sighed. “We’ll straighten it out as soon as the police are done. Any word on when that will be?”

“No!” Rachel wailed. “They won’t say. They’re being horrible. They give us these looks, like they think we all murdered Crystal.”

The thought crossed Tina’s mind that maybe Rachel
had
done it, but she pushed it away. Certainly she didn’t shoot Nicky.

“I just know one of them told the reporter about my house,” Rachel said, “and they won’t let us back in. I can’t even go inside to get my clothes! And I can’t talk to Mother. She’s in denial or something. Nicky had to go to work and clear some stuff up so he can attend the funeral. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“How is Nicky?”

Rachel’s voice gained strength. “He’s amazing. He claims it doesn’t hurt. I know he took some pain pills, but I still think it would hurt.”

“Well, that’s good. I think you need to shop for some clothes. Especially something to wear to the funeral. When is it?”

“We don’t have a date yet. The police don’t know when they’ll release the body. Mother made the arrangements—she had the man come here to discuss it. She won’t leave the house.”

“How about I take you shopping?”

“Oh, Tina, that’s so nice of you. I’d like that.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up in half an hour and we’ll have lunch out, as well.”

Dr. Ted’s grungy kitchen could wait a day. It wasn’t going anywhere. Tina figured Rachel was calling her and not a friend because she couldn’t invite them over to her house and was so embarrassed she stopped going to theirs.

Rachel had a hard time deciding what to buy. Tina could tell she wanted to buy at least four of the outfits she’d tried on for the funeral, but forced herself to choose one. Wide-legged black slacks and a plain black top with white piping around the collar and down the front. She needed underwear, stockings, shoes, and some everyday clothes, as well. Jeans and tops. Boots because it could snow anytime now.

Over lunch at D’Angelo’s, Rachel said, “Thanks so much, Tina, for this. I don’t have any friends left, you know.” She took a bite of her tuna sub and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “I can’t have them over, and I can’t tell them why. It’s so embarrassing. I hope you can help me.”

“I’m sure I can. Rach, you already know how to organize some. Your boxes were in neat piles. The nursery … “She swallowed hard. “The nursery was perfect… “Tina trailed off, hoping Rachel would explain.

“I know,” Rachel whispered. “After we finally found out we couldn’t have any children—it’s my fault—I couldn’t go in there again. Nicky dusts and vacuums. He’s always grumpy afterward.”

“Why do you think it’s your fault?” Tina asked.

“Something to do with my uterus.” Tears squeezed out of her eyes, and she brushed them away.

“That’s not your
fault
,” Tina said. “That’s just bad luck or fate or whatever you want to call it. I’m so sorry, Rach. Have you thought about adopting?”

“We’re talking about it. A little. Nicky doesn’t seem to want to. I don’t know … “

But he cleans the nursery. Both Rach and Nicky could use some counseling.
But she’d given that up. And she wasn’t going back.

“Well, time enough to think about all that later.” Tina squeezed Rachel’s hand. “Right now we need to get you back on track. As I said, you created a perfect room. You can do the same with all the rooms. You just need to be able to let go of a lot of the stuff, and you’ll be fine.”

“I have too much trouble deciding what to do with everything. There’s just too much.” Rachel wiped away more tears.

“It’s hard because there are so many decisions to make. It will get easier for you as we go along, and you’ll feel better about the house and about yourself. I’ll teach you not only how to get it all straightened out, but how to keep it that way without a lot of effort. Then you can contact your old friends and have them over for lunch.”

“That would be wonderful.” Rachel’s voice was wistful, unbelieving. “I have to try,” she said. “Crystal wanted me to.”

“There you go. Crystal could be a bit pushy, but her heart was in the right place. Do you remember the time she organized us all to take turns visiting Brandon when he broke his leg?”

Rachel nodded. “And when Dad was in the hospital, dying, she kept Mom and me going, making sure we ate, keeping the house up. God, Tina, I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

“You’ll be fine. Ask yourself what she’d do, and if you think you should do the same thing, go for it. How’s your mother holding up?”

“Not so well. I know she seemed fine when you saw her, but she’s coming unraveled, I think.”

“Then you should step in, Rachel. Make the meals, clean up the kitchen. Keep at least the front room straightened out in case people drop by.”

“I guess I could do that.”

“Of course you can.” Tina ate her last potato chip and took the last sip of her root beer. “Now, what about some more shopping? I’d like to hit the bookstores. How about you?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can find some books about organizing.”

Tina laughed. “Hey, that’s not such a bad idea. You can cram for the exam.”

They left D’Angelo’s in a brighter mood. There was always shopping.

Tina dropped Rachel off at her mother’s around four and drove home, pleasantly tired. She found her mother in the kitchen, making a meatloaf. Tina grimaced as she plopped herself into a kitchen chair and watched Laura put the meat into a pan. It would have too much pepper, be undercooked, and fall apart when Laura tried to serve it. She wished for Hank to rescue her again and take her to a nice restaurant.

“Where’s Uncle Bob?” Tina asked.

“He’s not feeling so good. Something with his stomach.”

“Probably something he ate, which he cooked himself,” Tina said. “What did he have for lunch?”

“I don’t know.” Laura gave the meatloaf a pat with the back of a spoon and put it in the refrigerator. She took three baking potatoes out of the bin and began to scrub them. She always started preparations early so she could sit down with a cocktail or a glass of wine while dinner cooked.

“Well, I hope he’s okay,” Tina said, a bit worried although Uncle Bob did frequently complain of stomach pains. He’d been checked out thoroughly years ago. Maybe it was time to do it again. “When did he start with this trouble with his stomach, anyway? Seems he’s had it ever since I can remember.”