Cemetery Silk Page 8

  “Oh, well, hand me a Coke and let me splash some water on my face. We’ll have a tacky fashion show.”

  “Excuse me! No one has ever accused me of being tacky.” Mother stood up and lifted the first of her purchases up on the bed. “These items may be inexpensive, but tacky? Never!”

  And of course, she was right. I don’t know how she managed in such a short time, but she had bought some really nice things. Cassie was elated at the nightshirts in “faux silk.” She had a red one. I got green, and Mother had white. We all had little terry cloth house slippers to match. There were undies for all of us, again in “faux silk,” and wonderful fleecy sweatsuits that we put on immediately. She also bought an astonishing amount of junk food, including soft drinks for me and Cassie, and Perrier for herself.

  As I ate the last salt and vinegar potato chip I realized it was suppertime so we opened up the cooler and polished off the “p-cheese” sandwiches.

  I was shaking the crumbs off my bedspread when we heard a knock at the door. We froze like schoolgirls.

  “Who could that be?” whispered Mother. “It’s too early for Molly’s niece. It’s not even seven-thirty.”

  Cassie tiptoed to the window and peeked out.

  “It’s her, all right. What do we do?”

  “I guess we run hide in the bathroom until she goes away.” I stuck my tongue out at my daughter. “Let her in, you silly goose!”

  Molly’s niece slipped in the door as soon as Cassie opened it wide enough for her to enter. She was wearing a short black vinyl trench coat, the waist cinched in as tight as possible. Black fishnet stockings and three-inch heels finished off the outfit. She went to the window without saying anything and looked out.

  “Great! Nobody followed me.”

  I was somewhat surprised that the entire Atlantic Naval Fleet had not followed her in that getup. It was not exactly a bid to go unnoticed.

  “Hey, this is real cute. Like the three bears, huh? I knew this was a classy joint, not like them sleazy places Dibber used to take me.”

  We all three came to immediate attention at the mention of his name. Cassie pulled a chair up from the table for the girl. We three sat on the bottom of each of our beds.

  “Got anything to drink? I’m dry as a desert.”

  “Of course, dear. Forgive me for not asking,” apologized Mother. “We have coke, diet coke, and Perrier. Which would you like?”

  “You don’t have no…? No, I guess you ladies don’t exactly travel with the hard stuff. Give me a Perrier. I always wanted to try one of them, but Stevie, he won’t spring dough for water. He says water ought’a be free, and water in a bottle is for sissies. Not that you ladies are sissies. Just classy. ‘Specially the old lady. You’re real classy, Ma’am.”

  “Why thank you, dear. What is your name? My granddaughter didn’t tell us.”

  “That’s cause I didn’t tell her. ‘Cause I’m an informant, like in that old movie. I’m ‘Deep Throat.’ Ain’t that cute?” She giggled and took a big swallow. A look of complete distaste crossed her face, but she managed to keep the drink down. “Class” apparently did not taste as good as it looked.

  “Let’s get this over with so I can go. Molly closed up early. I told Stevie I had to go to the store so he’ll be expectin’ me soon. Where’s the fifty?”

  “What fifty?” I turned to my errant child, “Cassie, what fifty?”

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell you, Mom, but I promised, eh, ‘Deep’ fifty dollars if she told us what she know about the Dibbers.”

  They had me over a barrel. If I argued with them now we might lose her. I just hoped it was going to be worth it. Fifty dollars! She was lucky that I kept a fifty-dollar bill hidden in my wallet in case of emergencies. I knew Mother was too “classy” to carry any cash. Deep tucked the money in her bra like any good floozy and started talking immediately.

  “Well, Stevie and me, we weren’t getting along so good, see? And Ernest, he comes in the coffee shop and starts making up to me. I knew he was married ‘cause Aunt Molly kept makin’ remarks. But he was kind’a sweet and needy, ya know? And he was a real great tipper. So one night when Stevie was drinkin’ real heavy, Ernest says to me to meet him after work. ‘Come down to the corner,’ he says, and he’ll pick me up. ‘We’ll go have dinner.’”

  She looked at Mother and shrugged her shoulders. “Anybody can have dinner. It don’t mean nothing, right?”

  She paused and I could see her reliving the fairy tale she had created, the romantic rendezvous with a handsome stranger. She had probably recast Dibber in her mind’s eye because he was anything but handsome.

  I gave Deep a closer look. She was much younger than I had previously thought. On closer inspection, her mouth and eyes looked pinched and ugly, and her skin was coarse and grimy with unwashed makeup.

  I felt distaste and pity at the same time. She was about the same age as Cassie, but they were a million light years apart. It was not class that separated them, just luck.

  Mother would disagree and argue about genes and morals and ethics and good stock. Cassie would put forth an argument about Karma. The truth was that it was just the luck of the draw in whose nest you were laid.

  I sighed away my motherly instincts and reminded myself that Deep was just a tough little cookie out for fifty bucks.

  “Where did he take you?” I asked.

  “To this really great barbeque place on the Interstate. Hardly nobody from here goes out to eat at night. They are so provincial.”

  She looked at Mother for approval at her use of a “really big word.”

  Mother smiled back at her. “Wasn’t he afraid someone would see you and tell his wife?”

  “He didn’t care. He told me so. He said I was the only one he cared about, and we could both get divorces and run away together.”

  It was Cassie’s turn, “On the first date he said all this?”

  Deep looked scornfully at her, “Course not! We had lots of dates, a least three or four before he told me how much he hated that string bean he was married to. And Steve was bein’ such a potato head.” She laughed, “Ernest was so funny. He said we both deserved better than bein’ married to vegetables.”

  I was tired of hearing how terrific Dibber was. “Did he ever say how he was going to be able to have the money to take you away?”

  “Well, no. I just thought he would have it when the time came. He never talked about money but he gave me real nice presents. He bought me perfume and a real pretty scarf and some of those little panties with lots of lace and no crotch.”

  “And just how was he in bed?” Mother and I turned to Cassie with open mouths.

  “I mean fifty bucks are fifty bucks, do tell us.”

  “Well, I never!” The girl looked at Cassie in a wide-eyed attempt at innocent outrage. Cass stared her down.

  “We never ‘done the deed!’ That’s the God’s honest truth,” Deep protested.

  Cassie was not going to let it go at that. “Well, just what did you do? I’m sure you didn’t spend all that time in sleazy motels discussing world affairs.”

  The girl sniffed in an attempt at disdain. “We could’a if we’d wanted. Ernest, he was real smart, and I ain’t no dummy!”

  She unbuckled her coat and slid it off her thin shoulders. She had an impressive chest. It must run in the family.

  “I mostly danced for him,” she said in a small voice. She looked at Mother almost shyly.

  “I’m a real good dancer. I’d dance for him most every night and he’d stuff dollar bills in my garter belt just like they do in them clubs in the big cities. Now I ain’t saying I’m no virgin, after dancin’ a while I’d get real hot, but Ernest said he wanted to keep our relationship pure and sweet, just like me. So we’d hug and kiss and he’d play with my puppies, but he never let me touch his pecker. After a while I figured it out, that maybe he couldn’t get it up, ya know? Maybe a war wound or somethin’, but that was okay by me. I’ve had too many rough guys stuff me w
ith the old weenie. It was kind’a nice to just be petted by a real gentleman.”

  She took another experimental swig of Perrier. Lying is thirsty work.

  “What else do you want to know? I gott’a go.”

  “What happened, dear?” Mother had assumed her gentlest voice. “Why did you and Ernest not run away like you planned?”

  “Stevie found out what we was doin’. He sobered up one night and followed me to the motel. He waited until I was undressed and doin’ a lap dance for Ernest, and then he busts in and slaps me to the ground and starts swinging. It was awful. He beat Ernest up somethin’ terrible.”

  Her face had taken on a look of fond memory that belied her words. I imagine at the time she was thrilled at the sight of two men fighting over her.

  “Poor thing, he didn’t stand a chance against my Stevie.”

  Translation: the better man fought and saved me from a fate worse than death. I was tired of Deep.

  Mother had a good question though.

  “Did you ever have anything to do with Mrs. Dibber? Do you know if she was aware of your liaison with her husband?”

  “‘Liaison,’ hey, that’s a terrific word. I gott’a remember that. Yeh, she knew. She used to see me places, at the movies or walking down the street, and give me a real ‘drop dead’ look. And she called the coffee shop once, right after Hector took real bad. Molly wasn’t there to answer the phone, and I could tell it was killin’ her to have to ask me for somethin’, but she just had to have two pies. Said she would come by after work to pick ‘em up. I gave her a hard time. Said I didn’t know we would have what she wanted, Molly bein’ off with Hector an all. And they was in the refrigerator case all the time, one chocolate and one banana creme. Man, I bet she hated me.”

  Deep laughed with satisfaction as if that were one of her goals in life.

  “And sure enough, come seven-fifteen here comes the skinny bitch for her goodies. I gave her even more grief, saying maybe Stevie had sold them when I wasn’t looking, but she had caught on by then. Bitch threw a twenty in my face, grabbed her stupid pies, and left. Almost fell gettin’ in the car, too. That would have been a hoot with creme pie everywhere!”

  She grinned impishly and for a moment looked like the child she really was.

  I had one last question. “Did you see Ernest after that night?”

  “Nope.”

  “He didn’t come in the coffee shop?”

  “Nope.” She shrugged back into her trench coat. “Can I go now?”

  “Dear, might I suggest that you not mention our little meeting to your Steve?”

  Way to go, Mother!

  “Hah! And have to fork over my fifty? Damn right, I ain’t gonna mention it. Well, thanks for the Perrier even though it tastes like horse…humm, sorry. See ya.”

  Cassie opened the door and let Deep slipped dramatically out into the night, then came and sat back down on the edge of her bed. I could tell the whole encounter had really gotten to her. I also knew she would not discuss her feelings in front of Mother. I decided to rescue her.

  “Let’s push our beds together and have a midnight snack.”

  Mother jumped up.

  “Great idea! Like a spend-the-night party. Lord, it’s been fifty years since my last one. Let me change and brush my teeth first.”

  She busied about with her purchases and took some of them to the bathroom.

  Cassie got up from the bed and knelt in front of me. She reached up and put her arms around my waist.

  “Mom, that poor girl.”

  “I know, Cassie. I feel really sorry for her too, but there’s nothing we can do. Her fate was sealed the day she was born.”

  “That’s what I mean. That could be me.” She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

  “If you weren’t my mom and hadn’t taken care of me like you did, I could have ended up like that.”

  I could have lied and said, “Never,” or told her that she was too strong to follow that path, but the truth was I still believed it was luck. So I said, “And it could have been me as well, if it hadn’t been for your grandmother. We’ve both been lucky. We’ve both been very cherished and very loved, and you’ll pass that legacy on to your very lucky little girl.”

  “Pish and tush! I’m going to be a wonderfully eccentric old spinster with one true and passionate love affair to remember.”

  “What? And do me out of being a grandmother? You wicked, wicked, child.”

  I kissed the top of her beautiful head and thanked God for our good fortune.

  “Now grab your ‘faux silk’ nightie and let’s heave and ho the beds. I bid on the middle!”

  We sat in a circle in the middle of the three beds and noshed on the huge supply of junk food Mother had bought.

  “Wow, I haven’t had so much food coloring, sorbitol, and sodium nitrate since my last Easter egg hunt. Feels great! Gives you a little buzz? Do you feel it, Gran?”

  “Ummm, feels just like a sugar high. Pass the Cheetos please, Paisley. I’m really put out with you for eating all the salt and vinegar chips. I’ve never had any. I was looking forward to a taste test.”

  “If I live through this debauchery, I’ll buy you some more tomorrow.” I licked the salt and yellow dye number two from my fingers. “Doesn’t anybody want to discuss our visitor?”

  “Well, she was a charming little thing. Somewhat in need of a good scrubbing, perhaps. And what an interesting vocabulary!”

  “I’m serious, Mother. We need to discuss what we learned, if anything, and make some notes before we forget what she said.”

  Cassie jumped up and searched through the desk drawers. “Here’s a pencil and some stationary. I’ll be the scribe.”

  “Okay, who wants to start? Mother?”

  “Very well, I have been pondering on something. Does it strike either of you as strange that after fathering five children our Mr. Dibber cannot stuff the old wiener in an attractive and nubile young woman?”

  “Gran!” Cassie slammed down the paper and pencil.

  “I’m sorry if it embarrasses you to hear your old grandmother say such things, Cassie, but honestly, don’t you think it’s odd?”

  “You’re right, Mother. Cassie, don’t be a prude. I, myself, doubt a lot of her story. For instance, I cannot believe that Dibber was so open about their affair. If there ever was an affair. It could all be a fairy tale she dreamed up to make a soap opera of her rather ordinary life. You saw how much she loved the drama of coming here and being ‘an informant.’ She probably fantasizes a lot.”

  “Then I guess we need some sort of confirmation of Deep’s story. But who’s going to do that? Molly said Dibber flirted with Deep in the coffee shop, but so do half the customers. We saw that for ourselves. And I think I’d be afraid to approach the drunken husband. Of course, we could ask Sue.” Mother looked at me with a wry smile.

  “Yeh, right,” I mumbled over a mouthful of chocolate and peanuts.

  “Well, Mom, they did leave town in a hurry. Maybe she was getting him away from Deep.”

  “Or removing him from the scene of the crime.”

  “Or maybe both.” Mother looked pensive. “We need a town gossip. I wish I knew more of Abigail’s friends, or even knew the ones I know of better.”

  “Do you think you could call a couple in the morning? God, that last Snickers made me nauseous. Mother, I don’t suppose you bought any Alka-Seltzer?”

  “In the bag on the table, dear.” Bless her little heart.

  I got up to get some water and make my potion. Then I had another thought.

  “Let me turn out the lights for a minute and check on Watson.”

  I opened the curtains and the aluminum miniblinds. The moon was a big fat yellow half wheel of cheddar floating above the trees. There were a few raggedy black clouds, but the sky was mostly clear. When I heard the wind whining through the eaves, I shivered. I could almost feel it blowing coldly through every cell in my body.

  “This place gives me
the creeps,” I whispered so softly that no one heard.

  “How’s Watson, dear? I’m getting quite fond of him.”

  “Everything looks fine, Mother.”

  “Oh, Mom, surely you can see some nefarious person underneath our Jeep snipping the brake line, or stabbing the tires with a stiletto?”

  “I guess I am being somewhat paranoid, but you have to admit it’s that kind of night. The wind whistling in the pines. The black clouds crawling across the moon like malevolent insects.…”

  “Save it for your book, Paisley, dear. Close the blinds and help us clear these calories off the bed. I’m getting sleepy.”

  By the time we cleaned and decrumbed, I was sleepy and chilled, too. It was definitely getting colder. Cassie was tall enough to reach the extra blankets at the top of the closet. A few minutes later we were all tucked in and snuggled down.

  “I think I will call a couple of Abigail’s friends in the morning. It can’t hurt, and we might learn something. That’s one reason we made this trip.”

  “Mom, Gran, I’m sorry that Deep turned out to be such a bust. Pardon the pun! I guess we wasted a night here for nothing.”

  “Excuse me, dear, but I for one have had a terrific time. Your young lady was immensely entertaining, and haven’t we had fun?”

  “If my fingers don’t swell up and fall off from all that sodium, yes.” I took my rings off and put them in my nightshirt pocket just in case. “Don’t fret, Pet. Deep is what’s known in the mystery novel business as a ‘red herring.’ It’s an element considered essential by most writers. So, you see, you provided us with something we really needed.”

  No response.

  “Cassie?”

  “I think she’s asleep,” Mother whispered. “Paisley, do you really think Deep is nothing more than a red herring?”

  I turned over on my side towards her so we could converse quietly without disturbing Cassie.

  “I think she was putting on a performance. Lying to us, big time. Even if he’s not ‘genteel,’ I just can’t see Ernest Dibber flaunting a little trollop like Deep in front of the whole town. Although I’m sure her story has some element of truth. She’s not smart enough to make the whole thing up.”