The Death of Perry Many Paws (42 page)

Cam chose to portray Lancelot in full armor, as if he were off to a jousting match. He did have sort of a chain mail opening on his elbows and knees so he could bend but he still had a Frankenstein walk. Getting him into the car was a huge project and I had to gather my skirts up to my chin to drive. Since he wasn’t able to sit comfortably and still close the passenger door, we had to lay him flat on his back in the back seat with his knees up in the air. Luckily it was a short drive to the bookstore.

Hiram, dressed in his usual Ichabod Crane outfit, helped me pull Cam out of the car. We had to park a couple blocks away so the three of us strolled down the street making small talk about the weather and the brilliance of holding meetings at a round table versus a rectangular one. Once we reached the door and were safely inside, Hiram scampered back to his cubicle after grabbing a plateful of pumpkin bread and candy corn. He rarely made much of an appearance during the party, preferring to watch from the safety of his work area.

Grace’s assistant Jenny, dressed as a French parlor maid, flapped her feather duster at us and ooed and aahed over our costumes. Cam, in turn, silently ooed and aahed over her costume while she and I talked about who was there and what they were wearing. Jenny
seductively flounced off and I smacked Cam on his helmet as he stared after her.

“What?” he asked, stiffly turning his head to look at me.

“You’re oogling Jenny.”

“No I’m not. I was just thinking that she must be really really cold.”

“Yeah, right.” I would have smacked him again for good measure but I was distracted by the arrival of Santa and Mrs. Claus. “Grace!” I threw my arms around her and we hugged, communicating the way old friends can. Her hug told me how sorry she was about what Ryan put me through and my hug told her I didn’t hold her responsible and that I was fine. Hugh and Cam, on the other hand, shook hands and had to use actual words—however few.

“Sorry about …”

“Not your faul …”

“Still …”

“Forget about it.”

We moved further into the store, greeting Diane and Scott (a nun and a priest), Syra (Abraham Lincoln), Diane’s parents Ted (Frankenstein) and Thelma (unclear), Sybil (Mother Goose) and …

“Oh my God, Cam. What is your mother?”

“Tamsen, let’s not start on that now. We’re at a party …”

“No. No, I’m not trying to get you to say ‘selfish mean-spirited soulless witch’; I mean her costume. What is that costume?” I put my hands on his arms and physically turned him so he could see his mother, who was standing talking to Reverend Sibley (cowboy) and his wife (cowgirl).

“Good Lord! That is … Jesus, I don’t know what that is …”

“Try creepy,” I suggested.

“I want to go home.” Cam tried to turn toward the door. I grabbed his arm.

“Now you know how I feel when I see your mother.”

“Not funny. Seriously, I don’t feel well. We need to go home.” Cam tried to pull his arm away and turn at the same time, which started a
Wizard of Oz
Tin man-like dance that brought applause from Ted and Thelma and directed his mother’s attention our way.

“We can’t go until I’ve had candy corn and orange-frosted cupcakes …” I insisted.

“We’ll stop for some on the way …”

“Cam, she’s coming over. You can’t run away. Or keep your eyes closed. Man up!”

Claudia approached us doing the seventy-four-year-old’s version of a skip. She was dressed in a short blue dress with a white pinafore wearing a long blonde wig and carrying a giant lollipop.

“Please make it go away.” Cam was muttering with his eyes closed. I slapped my hand against his metal back, almost knocking him to the floor.

“Claudia!” I greeted my mother-in-law.

“Tamsen, dear …” She lowered her lollipop and peered at my dress. “It’s a shame they don’t provide a bosom with the dress. I’m sure whoever you are trying to portray would have had a healthy bosom. Once you put something on, dear, it totally loses all sense of eroticism. Have you ever noticed that? Now, Jenny’s costume is perfect for her.”

“Mother! What are you?” Cam pulled up his visor to have a better look and then quickly put it down again.

“Obviously, I’m Alice in Wonderland. Heavens, Christian, did we waste all those years with that nanny person who read you all those children’s books? What was that woman’s name? She wasn’t with us long …”

“Nancy,” Cam mumbled. “And she was my nanny until I was ten …”

“Was it really that long? I never saw her much …”

“That’s because she was always with me.”

“Ah, that explains it. This Nanny Nancy should have read you all the classics. I’m sure I told her to do that.”

Cam stiffly shook his head. “I’m familiar with the character, Mother. I just never expected to see you dressed like her. I mean, isn’t that costume a little bit … um …”

“Yes, it
is
amazing someone my age could look this great. My legs are still good and, when you are petite like me”—she glanced my way—“you can carry this off.” She began to slowly twirl around, showing off her costume and kicking her legs up a few feet off the floor to make sure we saw them, too.

“Mother, please stop. Really. I’m begging.”

Claudia smoothed down her pinafore and smiled. “Why is Syra dressed as Abraham Lincoln? Is she gay?”

“Why would you think that?” I asked, immediately wishing I hadn’t.

“Because she is dressed like a man. I thought maybe now that she was missing her breasts she had turned gay or something.”

“Claudia, just because a woman doesn’t have breasts it doesn’t mean she is gay …”

“Oh yes, dear. I should have known that,” she responded, staring at my chest. “Silly me.” And off she flounced.

I turned to Cam and opened his visor, leaning my face close to his. “I. Really. Hate. Your. Mother.” I slammed the visor back and headed toward the orange-frosted cupcakes.

I passed by the nun and priest, who were canoodling in the children’s books section. Apparently all was well in the Kinney home, thank God. Diane better restock her supply of home pregnancy kits. I gave them a wave but they didn’t notice me. I grabbed an orange-frosted cupcake, a cup of mulled cider, two snicker doodle cookies and handful of candy corn and made my way to the mystery section to hang out in Sherlock
Holmes’ study. Next to the children’s area, this was my favorite place in the store. If I could get my New Orleans mystery published I knew Grace would give the book a place of honor in this section.

“You dropped some candy corn.”

I looked up from my musing to see Harry Potter pointing his wand toward the floor. I bent down to pick up the candy that had slipped off my plate.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Harry asked.

“If you’re a wizard, shouldn’t you know that?” I replied. Harry’s face broke into an affable smile.

“Hogwarts hasn’t offered that course yet.”

“Ah, that explains it. I’m Guinevere. Do you know who that is?”

“Of course. You must be with the guy in the armor over there. He looks like he needs help eating.”

I took the last bite of my cupcake and brushed my hands off on my napkin. “He won’t starve. Maybe the underdressed French maid can help him get some food.”

“That’s my girlfriend,” Harry informed me. “Who’s the weird old broad in the little girl costume?”

“That’s my mother-in-law.” We looked at each other and burst out laughing. Just then Jenny wiggled in and sat on Harry’s lap. Her little skirt flounced up and I could see her black silk underpants. I wondered if they came with the costume or if she wore that kind of underwear every day.

“Hey, Mrs. Mack. You met my boyfriend, Chip?”

“Sort of,” Harry-Chip acknowledged, reaching out his hand to shake mine. “Chip Carson. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mack.

“Chip is going to the police academy in Dover. He’ll be done in May and then he’ll be a real policeman,” Jenny informed me proudly.

“Great. Are you planning to stay in this …?”

We were interrupted by Santa Claus asking Jenny and Chip if they could help him bring more cider in from the storeroom. They excused themselves and left and I returned to thinking about my new book and then to the current Perry Many Paws book. My editor had loved the hot-air balloon idea. Now he was talking about expanding the locations of the Perry stories; oddly, now that I had him thinking the way I wanted him to, I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue with the series. Now that Abbey was an adult it might be time to put Perry to sleep, well not
that
kind of put to sleep, but to let him rest while I took on a new literary venture.

“You’re not being very sociable, Tamsen. Are you all right?” I looked up into the empathetic eyes of the overly made up Mother Goose and smiled.

“I’m just thinking about my latest book, Sybil. Have a seat.” I waved her into Dr. Watson’s chair, having appropriated Sherlock’s for myself. “You’re looking very … um … colorful.” The pancake makeup was smudged in a few places and the red lipstick was getting a little lopsided from eating and drinking. Her bonnet was sitting a little jauntily and I noticed her hips and tummy fighting against the material of her dress. She didn’t look comfortable, maybe even less comfortable than Cam.

“My feet are killing me. These flimsy little slipper things don’t give you any arch support at all. I should have worn my support hose. And this dress. And it must have shrunk. I’ll complain to the costume shop. This is my size but it’s a little tight. Are you going to eat those cookies?”

I passed her my plate with the two snicker doodles and she laid it on her stomach and began eating. “I miss Abbey. Remember last year when she came to the party as Raggedy Ann? She was perfect.”

I nodded. Abbey was the quintessential Raggedy Ann, with her red hair and light sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

“Children are so innocent. It’s a shame they have to grow up,” she mused.

I put my hand on hers. “I know this isn’t any of my business, Sybil, but it seems like you would have been such a great mother. Did you not want children or …”

She gave me a sad smile. “I always planned to have children someday but was never in a marriage that felt strong enough. I made some bad choices. My first husband was charming but infantile …”

“You mean Frankie Bowe?

Sybil jerked her head up and stared at me. “How do you know about Frankie Bowe? Surely Claudia didn’t …”

“No. No. Claudia never talks about your personal life with me. It’s just that when I was looking through Franklin’s newspapers …”

“You mean that pile with just the April 1 issues?”

“Yes. Your marriage announcement was in one of them …”

“Ah yes, April 1. Such a stupid wedding date, but it was romantic to me because we had met the previous year on April 1 when Frankie found my necklace in the Fox Theater. Silly how such a little thing leads to marriage and then …well. It was a bad marriage. He was a bit of a nut. I was just eighteen so it took me a couple of years to realize it.”

“What happened to Frankie?”

“I’m not sure. When we divorced I moved to New York to try the theater. I had a few parts, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” I tried to cut her off so she wouldn’t expound on her theater career, which I had heard about too many times to count.

“While I was doing some theater I married one of my fellow actors, Godfrey Bane. He was an understudy and so was I so we had a lot of free time off stage. Of course his name wasn’t really Godfrey Bane that was just his stage name. His real name was James Button, Jimmy Button. Not a very good stage name, is it?”

“Doesn’t have the right ring to it, I guess …”

“So I was Sybil Button for a while. He was legally still Button. I would rather have been Sybil Bane. I love the sound of it.”

“That does sound classy,” I agree. “What happened to Jimmy, or, er, Godfrey?”

“The usual. He got tired of me and took up with a new young understudy. We weren’t even married a year. Like I told you, I didn’t have good luck with men. Oh, and don’t tell Claudia. I never told her about Jimmy. It’s embarrassing when you’re twenty-one and your husband leaves you for a younger woman after 7 months of marriage. I have my pride.”

Sybil wiggled until she was comfortable in her chair and stared at the fake fireplace. I stood up and looked out at the party. Cam was at the refreshment table and Hugh was trying to help him get something into his open visor. Hiram was hiding in his cubicle. Jenny and Chip were dancing to “The Monster Mash.” Claudia had Syra cornered by the sci-fi section and I was glad I couldn’t hear that conversation. I glanced back at Sybil and decided to stay where I was. I did wish I had those snicker doodles back, though.

“No, I didn’t have good luck with men,” Sybil continued as if she hadn’t stopped talking five minutes ago. “After a couple of years in New York I came back to Birdsey Falls. Claudia had married Edward Mack and had Cassandra. I was curious about Edward because Claudia had always planned to marry someone important. Someone who would have lavish parties and introduce her to other important people. But she married Edward instead.”

“Why? Claudia doesn’t seem like the type to settle for less than what she wants.”

“Her father picked out Edward for her. Edward was easygoing and very handsome. He came from a middle class family so didn’t have any family money to fall back on. She and her father really thought he
would change his name to Behrends in exchange for Claudia and the Behrends money. He adored Claudia but he wouldn’t do that.”

“I can’t blame him.”

“She tried to convince him on their honeymoon. Apparently he made some remark indicating that he would have thought Claudia would have been glad to get rid of such an undignified name—Bare Ends, get it?”

I murmured that I did.

“And she was so angry that she didn’t speak to him for the rest of the honeymoon and for a good month after they got home. She probably would have never spoken to him again for insulting the Behrends name but she discovered she was pregnant with Cassandra and things softened up between them.”

“Did you ever fall in love again?”

“Oh, yes. Just saying you don’t want to ever fall in love isn’t enough to keep it from happening. And I am a tenderhearted person. I eventually married Roscoe Beatty. We were fairly happy but then he died …”