Rumpled Between The Sheets (3 page)

"I am
losing it."

****

Back at her
mother's house, Mary breathed deep. She'd stayed with Father Mallard her first
couple of nights back home. The thought of staying in her old home without the
sights and smells of her mother fussing about saddened her to no end. According
to Father Mallard, her mother hadn't been home for almost six months. The
cancer had put her in the hospital as a permanent resident. Dust coated nearly
everything. Her neighbors had at least covered the furniture to spare it the
same fate.

Going to the refrigerator,
Mary opened it. To her relief and dismay, the contents were pristine empty
shelves within. The cupboards held a few canned goods and not much else. She
had a few dollars.
Certainly not enough to fill the pantry.

"If only
that gold was real." She chuckled. A knock at the door drew her attention.
Still barefoot from her shoe fiasco, she smoothed her skirt of wrinkles. Maybe whoever
it was wouldn't notice her lack of footwear.

Blowing out a
deep breath, she twisted the doorknob.
On the porch stood her
mother's neighbor Betsy Macromere.
Two paper sacks were balanced in her
dainty arms.

"Well,
bless my heart you've changed." Betsy smiled. "I brought you a little
something, dear."

"Thank you,
Mrs. Macromere."

"Aw,
please, sugar. Call me Betsy. May I come in?"

Mary
laughed." Yes, please. I'm
sorry,
this is all a
little too much right now." She moved to let Betsy pass. How the woman
managed to keep her southern accent when her family had migrated to Beowulf
Hollow over one hundred years ago, Mary never figured out.

"It's taken
a toll on the whole town." Betsy rushed to the kitchen. "But don't
you worry. We take care of our own." She peered out. "You are
staying, right?"

Where
would I go?
She painted on a smile.
"Looks that way.
My
mother left me everything and thinking through it all, I can't imagine putting
the house up on the market."

"Memories
will get you every time."

Mary nodded, her
hand absently running over the banister to the upstairs. "I'm going to
freshen up, if you don't mind."

"You go
ahead. I'll let myself out."

Each step
brought a fresh memory. Her prom, standing next to Billy Garner, and posing as
her mother belted out a few Polaroid snapshots. The frilly dress, a creation of
her mother’s, had been a hit. The pride on her mother's face when Mary bundled
up the dress to fit into Billy's car felt like yesterday.

How many times
had her father scolded her for riding the banister down? Or the scary moment
she tumbled down the flight playing dress up in her mother's heels. She still
bore a scar from the stitches high on her forehead.

At the end of
the hall was her old room. The house was huge by Beowulf Hollow standards. Her
parents wanted a big family.
When her father passed away, her
mother never bothered to remarry, though many suitors called.
Mary had a
suspicion Vivian had something to do with that. Her father had a premium life
insurance policy and her mother was far from poor. Gold diggers, Vivian had
called the men and helped send them packing when they showed up on the stoop.

The door to her
room creaked as she opened it, and she was transported back to her senior year
at Hollow High. Several David Cassidy posters hung on the wall along with
Queen, sporting their pose from the
A
Night at the Opera
album. A few stuffed animals, stacked in soldier-like
rows, lined her dressers. Her mother had threatened to paint over the hot pink
walls yet never did. How often did she step in here to remember the wayward
daughter who ran away?

Curling up on
the bed, Mary hugged her pillow. Before long, her eyes closed to the world
around her.

****

Delightful
smells assaulted her senses and brought her out of slumber. Voices drifted from
downstairs and for a moment, Mary thought she was back a few nights before she
decided to go to New York. One glance at her bare toes and rumpled clothing
told her different.

Gathering
herself up, she headed downstairs to find several people milling about in the
living room. None of them were strangers, although the multitude of people
overwhelmed her. Betsy waved from the kitchen.

"I hope you
don't mind. When I saw how little was here, it just didn't feel right leaving you
alone
tonight.
Your mother would have wanted us to
celebrate, not weep."

Mary's lips
trembled and a few tears leaked out. "Yes, she would."

"Oh,
dear."
Betsy hurried over and wrapped her arms around Mary.

In that moment,
she was glad that events in New York had led her back to this small town. The
community was just what she needed to heal. She belonged here.

Betsy guided her
out to the kitchen. "My lemon pepper chicken is just the thing for
you."

Mary wasn’t
hungry but passing up one of her favorite meals during neighborhood picnics
wasn't going to happen. She sat on one of the stools around the center island
and Betsy filled a plate with more food than she could eat in one sitting. Two
bites in and her appetite took over. She swallowed, another smell—though
faint—tickling her nostrils.
The sweet scent of pine.

"You
cleaned?"

"Of course,
sweetie.
You need to rest." Betsy patted her cheek. "Have you decided what
you're doing with your mother's business?"

Mary shook her
head, chewing on a piece of biscuit. "I went to the store before coming
home." She shoved another piece of biscuit in her mouth, not wanting to
reveal anything she found there. Betsy snapped a piece of carrot off between
her teeth, nodding. Mary didn't miss the calculation gleaming in the woman's
eye.

"I mean, I
have to settle the estate and whatnot before I make any decisions." Mary
covered her mouth and yawned. Self-generated but she needed to get out of
whatever situation was brewing.

"We'll take
care of all this and go.
For real this time."
Betsy winked and shooed Mary away.

Glad the almost-inquisition
ended, Mary headed back to her room upstairs. Her clothes hit the floor and she
crawled into bed in the buff. Unlike her previous residence, no
slimeball
would violate her privacy in Beowulf Hollow. In
the morning, she'd figure out whether to take the money and run or stay in the
only place she'd ever felt safe.

****

Morning came too soon, accompanied
by loud banging on the front door. Mary crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe
to shimmy into.
"Coming!"
She raced down the
steps, fearing a gaggle of the locals were lined up with egg casseroles and a
vat full of bacon.

She opened the door to see a
grinning Vivian. "Hello, Mary. Care to have breakfast in town with
me?" She wore stiletto heels with sparkling rhinestones in the front. Her
outfit, a tailored black suit, hugged her body and left nothing to the
imagination for what she packed as a bust size.

"Well, I..."
She glanced outside and to her robed body.

"Don't
worry. My car is like spreading garlic to keep vampires away in this town. No
one's going to send in the local breakfast fare to make you pack on the
pounds."

"Let me get
dressed." Mary almost closed the door. "Oh, come in and have a
seat." She ran upstairs. Her suitcase had hardly any clothes and the ones
in her closet paled in comparison to what Vivian wore. In New York it might
matter.
In Beowulf Hollow?
No one would give her a
second glance. She plucked out a nice loose fitting blouse and tight jeans.
With her favorite heels out of commission, she decided a pair of tennis shoes
would be more suitable.

Mary bounded
down the stairs. Vivian put down a book on the coffee table. "Your mother
always had a unique taste in books."

"Always one
for the classics."
Mary nodded, noting the title of the book.
The Count of Monte Cristo.

"Let's be
off to the only place to eat in this town. If we get lucky, cheerful ole Janis
will wait on us." She draped her arm around Mary's shoulders.

"Oh,
joy."

"My BMW
broomstick
awaits
." Vivian opened the car door
for Mary and they both slipped in. She noticed the residents peeking out their
windows. Nothing got past the neighbors.

"So, I must
admit, I do have a few questions for you before I head out." Vivian
stopped the car, waiting for a woman and her dog to cross.

"About
what?"

"Your
mother's shop."

"Mrs.
Tucker—"

"Darling, do
you hear me calling you Miss
Becken
? We're friends
here, not partners jockeying for position. Please, call me Vivian."

"Vivian."
She wrung her hands together. "What could there possibly be to discuss?
I'm not sure what I'm going to do." Mary had an idea about her plans but laying
them all out on the table? She was not ready to do that.

"I'm hoping
you continue it. I know you can pick up where your mother left off."

"Yeah,
right.
I know nothing about sewing." Mary scoffed. She dabbled like every girl in
this town
did,
a required course in high school. She
never took to it like her classmates.

"It's like
riding a stiff one, honey. You never forget."

Mary caught her jaw
before it fell open. Never would she ever figure Mrs. Tucker as one of the more
free-spirited women.
Speaking her mind, yes.
Lacing in
sexual innuendo? Mary was speechless.

"All I'm
saying is give it a chance and you won't regret it. When your father died, that
shop is what kept your mother from breaking down. There was a magic within
those walls for her. Maybe it will do the same for you." She pulled along
the street and pointed to the diner. "And there she is."

Mary peered over
and saw Janis, puckered-lips and all, staring out the window. She hopped out of
the vehicle and joined Vivian in their march across the street. People slowed
to regard them both. No one said a word.

"It's like
I'm going to cast a spell on them." She laughed and hooked her arm in
Mary's. Not waiting for the hostess, Vivian picked a big booth for them to sit
in. "Order anything. It's on me."

Suppressing a
giggle when Janis came to take their order, Mary took Vivian up on her offer
and ordered several things off the menu. They talked and shared each other's
food. The weight of her mother's death lessened in the company of Vivian.

"One more
thing before I head off into the high noon sun, my darling." Vivian slid
an envelope across the table. "I promised your mother I would give that to
you. Only open it while you're in the shop. Might sound a little melodramatic
but it
has
a special meaning, okay?"

"Thanks for
everything, Mrs. T—I mean Vivian." She chewed her bottom lip. "I just
don't know how I'm going to manage."

"You'll do
just fine." Vivian threw a few twenties on the table and scooted out.

Mary followed.
Out on the sidewalk, Vivian rubbed her arms, smiling.

"Now all I
have to do is figure out what to do first. I guess I better settle up with Mr.
Gretel tomorrow." Mary glanced back at the diner. For her, it was a
reflection of what she left behind in New York.

"Well, the
first thing to do is remind these people they need to mind their potatoes."
She raised her voice at that last part, eyeing the chattering biddies on the
corner. They dispersed when Vivian refused to ignore their obvious
eavesdropping. "Everything else will fall into place."

One last hug
outside the restaurant, with an audience of bystanders, and Vivian left via the
only road out of town. Mary held the envelope tight to her body. If her
mother's last wish was to open it in the shop, she'd do it. Besides, she wasn't
ready to go back home to all the neighbors asking vague questions. Alone time
was in order and no one could invade the shop to disturb her.

Around the back
of the shop, she nearly stumbled over a few bags of cleaning supplies. A big
red bow adorned each one and a white tag stuck out from them all.

Love,
Vivian.

"Excellent."
She skirted the supplies and opened the door. In a few trips, all of the bags
were secure inside.
Uprighting
a chair, Mary sat.
Gingerly she opened the envelope, the delightful smell of roses wafting from it.
She unfolded the letter and read. Her brow creased with every word. Vivian had
known more about her mother than she did. The secret to her success was
invention. While there was no mention of the vanishing room, her mother had to
vary her times leaving the shop because some nosy resident was always trying to
sneak into the backroom. The letter explained that Mary would be as successful,
if not more, than her mother because no one would suppress her innate
abilities. She scuffed at that part.
Abilities?
Perhaps she should get a pointy hat and join Vivian under the moon as well.