The Weekenders (46 page)

“Good thing I saw that cruiser leaving the county garage in the village,” Parrish said.

“So that's how you knew to come without my calling you,” Riley said.

Parrish smiled blandly. “It's my own secret bat signal.” Her expression turned serious. “Did you know Wendell owed money to Scott?”

“No!” Riley said. “Billy never said anything about it to me. I wonder if he knows Scott loaned Wendell money? And I really wonder how the sheriff knows.”

“It sounds like they really do suspect either Billy or Scott,” Parrish said.

“Which shows you what an idiot that sheriff is,” Riley said. “You've known both of them for years. Does either one of them strike you as a killer?”

“Of course not. Nobody we know strikes me as a killer,” Parrish said. “Except maybe Evelyn. That didn't come out right,” Parrish said hastily. “What I meant was, your mother is a force of nature. And when people don't bend to a force of nature, well, sometimes they get mowed down. I totally don't think Evelyn bashed in Wendell's head and killed him. If she wanted him dead, she would have poisoned him.”

“She'd like to kill me right now,” Riley said. “And so would Maggy.”

She quickly brought Parrish up to date on her confrontation with her mother and daughter over her relationship with Nate Milas.

“You were right to stand up to both of them,” Parrish said. “Good for you for finally growing a set.”

“Nate and I have been talking almost every night while he's been gone,” Riley said. “But I don't know how we can keep up a relationship once Maggy and I go back to Raleigh. Especially since I'm starting my new job as soon as I get back.”

“You got a job!” Parrish squealed. “I knew you could do it. That's fabulous.”

“We'll see. The money sucks, and it's some new start-up women's interest magazine format, sort of like my last job at WRAL. And I'm a little nervous that they were willing to hire me without an interview. I mean, who does that? But I don't have any choice. And my agent promised that if the ratings are okay we'll go back and renegotiate.”

“So you'll be amazing, and you'll get offers for something better,” Parrish said.

Riley sighed and looked at the scribbled note in her hand. “I guess it's time to throw a funeral, huh? God, how I dread it.”

Parrish put her arm around her friend. “Don't worry. I'll get you through it.”

 

55

Riley was almost dressed for the funeral. Thank God she'd thrown a simple navy-blue linen sheath into her suitcase when she was packing for the summer. As she was pawing through her jewelry case looking for something to dress it up a little, she picked up a strand of huge freshwater pearls.

They'd been a gift from Wendell's mother, Beatrice, and although she'd been touched by the sentiment, Riley had secretly found them a bit gaudy. Today though, it seemed appropriate to wear them for the last time. And then she'd pack them up, along with her engagement and wedding rings, and save them for Maggy, who loved bling.

As she searched the case for her pearl earrings, Riley spotted the amber-colored pill bottle Parrish had pressed into her hand the night before. “Here. I think you're gonna need this.”

“You know I don't like drugs,” Riley said hastily, trying to give the bottle back.

“Don't be ridiculous. Who doesn't like drugs? Anyway, it's not like it's quaaludes or meth, honey,” Parrish said. “It's just a little something to take the raw edge off your nerves tomorrow.”

“Isn't that why God invented wine?”

“Wine is for
after
the service,” Parrish said. “And I promise, I'll have plenty for you back at my house afterward. But you need to dose yourself with these an hour beforehand if you want to survive this ordeal with your wits intact.”

Riley was fastening the pearl necklace when Maggy burst into the room. Her daughter was wrapped in a towel, and her hair was dripping wet.

“What's this supposed to be?” Maggy brandished a pale purple frock.

“A dress?”

“I get that it's a dress, Mom, okay? When I got out of the shower just now I found it laid out on my bed.”

Riley took the dress and frowned. It was a girlish lavender floral print, with a deep ruffle at the hem and a high neckline. She held it up to her daughter. The hem hit Maggy two inches below the knees. It reminded Riley of something from
Little House on the Prairie
. All it needed was a matching sunbonnet.

“I think I know what this is about,” Riley said. She walked out into the hallway and hollered, “Mama!”

Evelyn popped her head out of her bedroom door. “I'm right here, Riley. You don't have to shout.”

Riley held out the dress. “Do you know anything about this?”

Evelyn's face softened. “Isn't it darling? I knew Maggy didn't have anything suitable to wear to her daddy's service, and there wasn't time to take her shopping in Wilmington. Frieda Heard orders all her grandchildren's clothes from this online store. I had to guess at Maggy's size and pay extra for overnight shipping, but I think it's perfect, don't you?”

“Perfect?” Maggy shrieked. “It's hideous. I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing.”

Evelyn turned her head and gave Riley an expectant look.

“Would you please explain to your child that it's rude to speak to her elders like that?”

“I will. But in the meantime, I really don't think this dress is right for her.”

“What's wrong with it?” Evelyn asked, stepping out of her bedroom wearing a severely cut long-sleeved black dress. “I'll have you know I paid a hundred and seventy-five dollars for that dress.”

“If you like it so much, you wear it,” Maggy retorted.

“Margaret? That's enough,” Riley said. “Take the dress and go to your room. I'll be there in a minute.”

“I'll go,” Maggy muttered. “But I am not wearing that rag.”

When she'd heard the bedroom door slam, Riley returned to the subject at hand. “I'm sorry Maggy was disrespectful. She's obviously upset. But about the dress. It's at least two sizes too big, and it's not her style at all. She's twelve, Mama, not four.”

“Fine,” Evelyn snapped. “I was just trying to help.” She started to walk away, but Riley caught the sleeve of her mother's dress.

“I know you were, Mama, and I really do appreciate all you've done for Maggy and me. So let's try not to fuss at each other so much. Especially today. Okay?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Evelyn said, turning a critical eye to her daughter. “But it's already after two. Don't you think it's time for you to change before we leave for the chapel?”

Riley found the pill bottle right where she'd left it, on her dresser. She swallowed two tablets and tucked the bottle in her pocketbook, along with her grandmother's red leather-bound Bible. “Help me, sweet Jesus,” she whispered.

*   *   *

“Maggy!” Riley stood in the main floor hallway at the bottom of the staircase. Evelyn was already waiting outside in the golf cart, tooting the horn every thirty seconds. “We need to leave for church now. Right now!”

“Coming!”

Maggy walked slowly down the stairs. She was wearing an old dress of her mother's, which Riley had rigged to fit with strategically placed safety pins and duct tape. And over the dress she wore her father's old pinstriped dress shirt. The shirt was buttoned and there was a suspicious, wriggling bulge in front.

“You look very nice,” Riley said. “What's that you've got under your shirt?”

“I had a big lunch,” Maggy said, brushing past her and motoring toward the front door.

“Not so fast.” Riley clamped one hand on her daughter's shoulder.

“Moooom. We're gonna be late.”

Evelyn tooted the horn again.

“See?”

“Lose the shirt. And the puppy,” Riley started, and then changed her mind. Maggy had been through enough. If wearing Wendell's clothing and clutching the puppy he'd given her gave her comfort, so be it. “Never mind.”

Maggy's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really. Just make sure Banks doesn't poop in the chapel, or your grandmother really will blow a gasket.”

“Thanks, Mommy.” Maggy smiled for the first time that day.

Evelyn pulled the golf cart alongside the porch and stared at her granddaughter. “What on earth?”

“Mama?” Riley gave her a warning look. “We'd better get to the chapel. I need to give Father Templeton the readings.”

“I never,” Evelyn muttered under her breath as they pulled away from Shutters. “I really never.”

*   *   *

The Chapel in the Pines had been designed and built in the 1950s by Riley's great-grandfather from plans he'd sketched on a two-by-six piece of lumber. The foundation was of granite from a nearby quarry and the board-and-batten pine walls had been cut and milled right on the island. The large stained-glass window behind the altar had been donated by Evelyn in memory of her parents, and it depicted stylized versions of creatures found on the island—mockingbirds and herons, deer, chipmunks, squirrels, and raccoons set in a border banded by native flowers; dogwood, wild rose, dune daisies, and rudbeckia.

The altar had been carved by a local boat builder, and today it was dressed with a pair of huge silver urns overflowing with deep-blue hydrangeas and ferns.

The nondenominational chapel could only seat sixty people, but today every pew was packed, with dozens of people standing along the side aisles.

Parrish greeted them at the door. “Okay?”

Riley took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“The rest of the family is up front on the right,” Parrish whispered. “Father Templeton is in the sacristy. Did you bring the readings?”

“Right here.” Riley held up the Bible. “They're all marked.”

“Good. I already briefed him on what you want. If he goes any longer than thirty minutes, I've threatened to unplug his mike. I forgot to ask, does anybody in the family want to say a few words?”

“No,” Riley said firmly.

“I do,” Maggy said.

“Oh, no,” Evelyn said, looking horrified. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“It'll be fine,” Riley said. She glanced at her watch. “Let's get this show on the road.”

*   *   *

The organist played Bach's “Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.”

It took awhile to make it to the front of the church. People stopped and hugged them, whispering words of comfort and encouragement in their ears. Billy was sitting on the aisle in the first pew, beside Scott, who was seated beside Ed Godchaux. Aunt Roo sat at the end of the pew, resplendent in a vivid purple muumuu and flower-decked straw hat. Billy and the rest of the family slid down the pew, and the three of them sat down, with Riley seated next to Billy, and Maggy between her and Evelyn.

“How you doin'?” Billy asked.

Good question. She'd felt a weird sense of something—detachment—settle over her during the short ride to the church. “I don't know why, but I feel kinda numb,” Riley said.

Billy gave her a sly wink and patted the pocket of his sport coat. “Me, too.” He slid his hand into his pocket and showed her the top of the sterling silver flask that had been W.R.'s. “Want some?”

“No, thanks, I'm good.”

True to Parrish's word, Father Templeton stuck close to the script he'd been given.

“In the Gospel of John, we are told that, ‘in my father's house, there are many mansions,'” the priest intoned.

Mansions, Riley though grimly. Mansions in heaven. If that's where Wendell was headed, and she had her doubts about that, he'd be happier than a hog in slop. But down here on Belle Isle, he'd somehow managed to mortgage their own mansion right into oblivion.

She felt her eyelids flutter and close just as the priest was starting to remind the congregants of the fleeting nature of life. At some point she must have actually nodded off, because Billy elbowed her in the ribs.

“Wake up,” he hissed. “We're getting to the good stuff.”

What followed was such a tender and glowing eulogy—for a man Riley was fairly sure the priest had never met—that Riley could only conclude it had been written by Evelyn.

“Who's he talking about?” Billy asked, giggling at his own humor.

“Shhh.” Riley just managed to suppress her own giggle.

“In Ecclesiastes, we are reminded that to everything there is a season,” Father said. “And a purpose under heaven.”

Riley had found the verse underlined in red in her grandmother's Bible. It was one of Nanny's favorite pieces of scripture, and she'd quoted it so often that Riley could almost recite it from memory.

“‘A time to live and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted … a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.'”

Wendell's time, Riley wryly reflected, had come, but not soon enough. How much destruction had the son of a bitch left in his wake? And what else would she discover in the weeks to come?

Riley heard a muffled sob and looked over at Evelyn, who was softly crying into a linen handkerchief. She reached over Maggy's lap and took her mother's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. After a moment, Evelyn squeezed back.

The priest droned on through the rest of the verses from Ecclesiastes. “‘… And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor because it is the gift of God.'”

This last elicited another fit of giggles from Billy Nolan, which earned him a death stare from his mother.

Finally, Father Templeton got to the verse Riley had been waiting for. It was the one Nanny had underlined and starred in the Bible, and though her grandmother was dead and buried before Riley met Wendell, it was the verse that rang truest for her.