Authors: Susan Rogers Cooper
Again Miss Hutchins turned to me. ‘Why is he screaming at me?’ she asked in a weak voice.
‘You don’t have to yell,’ I said to Humphrey. ‘She has all her faculties. Are you sure you talked to Miss Hutchins when you called?’
‘No, it was her assistant. Some guy,’ he said.
‘A guy? A man, you mean?’ Miss Hutchins asked. ‘There are no men here.’
‘Could it have been your helper?’ I asked her.
She shook her head. ‘No, she’s a woman. And she doesn’t have a deep voice or anything. Besides,’ Miss Hutchins said, ‘she hasn’t been here in several weeks. She certainly wasn’t here last week.’
‘Well, I don’t know who I talked to,’ Humphrey said, ‘but he took the reservation.’
Miss Hutchins walked to a small counter in the foyer, upon which sat a large, hardbound book. I moved to stand beside her. She flipped it to today’s date. And there, on the right side, was Saturday, with the notation, ‘Humphrey Hammerschultz and Diamond Lovesy, two rooms.’ Across from it, on the left, was Friday, with information on Willis and me. It didn’t take a graphologist to realize that the two entries were written by two different people.
‘How did you know something was going on here at the Bishop’s Inn?’ I asked Humphrey.
That stopped him for a moment. ‘Now that I think about it, the guy I talked to here might have been the same guy who called me.’
‘Someone called you? About what?’ Willis asked. I was glad to see he was joining in.
‘About the shit that’s happening here,’ he said, then, seeing the look on Miss Hutchins’ face: ‘Excuse my French, ma’am.’
She simply nodded.
‘What did he say?’ I asked. ‘This man who called you?’
‘He said there was definitely a spirit at the Bishop’s Inn in Peaceful, Texas, and that we should get here as soon as possible before something bad happens,’ Humphrey said.
Miss Hutchins grabbed my hand. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said.
I patted her hand.
‘And you just decided to come straight here, huh?’
Humphrey puckered up. ‘Of course not! I researched it. There’s all sorts of paranormal activity in the Texas Hill Country,’ he said. ‘So Diamond and I discussed it and I called and made a reservation.’
‘And didn’t notice that you were talking to the same guy,’ Willis said, his voice dubious.
‘It had been a week since the guy called. And I
did
talk to a few thousand people in the interim!’ Humphrey proclaimed.
‘It was Daddy,’ Miss Hutchins said in a small voice.
‘Your father? He’s here?’ Diamond asked in her Minnie-Mouse voice.
‘In a manner of speaking,’ Miss Hutchins answered.
‘So do we get our rooms or what?’ Humphrey asked, his tone getting slightly belligerent.
‘Of course,’ Miss Hutchins said with a sigh. ‘Just give me a minute to prepare them.’
‘No,’ I said, taking her arm and leading her back into the living room. ‘Just tell us where the sheets and towels are and we’ll all pitch in and do it.’
‘And we’re paying for this?’ Humphrey said, indignant.
‘Oh, Humphrey,’ Diamond said. ‘Be a sport! It’ll be fun. Besides, I feel the spirits all around us and I know they want us to help this poor, beleaguered lady!’ She smiled at us, one and all.
It wasn’t the fun-fest the medium had proclaimed it would be. Basically it was as tedious as one would expect. The men wandered around acting as if they had no clue where one might keep linens and things (at least I know my husband was acting – there was a good possibility Humphrey Hammerschultz was really that stupid), while Diamond Lovesy and I did all the work. She kept saying, ‘Isn’t this fun?’ By the fourth declaration I just glared at her. That was the last time she said it.
After we’d made the beds and put out the towels, the four of us headed downstairs. Miss Hutchins was setting refreshments on the coffee table in the living room. ‘Oh, there you are! I was wondering what took you so long,’ she said.
‘Having men help us,’ I said, mostly under my breath. Willis nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. It hurt. ‘You didn’t have to do all this,’ I said, looking at the spread she’d put out. A pitcher of iced tea and five glasses, a plate of scones and a plate of finger sandwiches – pimiento cheese and what looked like liverwurst.
We all sat down, Willis nudging Humphrey away from ‘his’ easy chair, Miss Hutchins and me on the camel-backed sofa and the newcomers in armless stuffed chairs.
‘So, Miss Hutchins,’ Humphrey said, stuffing his face with scones and talking around the mess in his mouth (utterly disgusting – I was able to break my children of such antics at a fairly early age. My first inkling of the fact that this guy was raised by wolves). ‘Tell us about these sightings of your father.’
‘Oh, I’m the only one who’s seen him,’ she said. ‘The first time – after his death, of course – was when I was ten and he killed my mother. Then nothing until about a year ago in the back garden late at night. And again three weeks ago, when I was walking dear Gladys and Herman out to their car, I saw him in the window of the room they had just occupied and he was smiling down at me. It wasn’t exactly a friendly smile. More teasing, I guess you’d say.’
Humphrey turned to Diamond. ‘Are you getting anything?’ he asked her.
She closed her eyes and said, ‘Ummmm.’ Then, ‘There
is
a presence here,’ she said. ‘A dark presence.’ Then she started breathing hard and hugged herself. ‘An evil, cold presence!’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Miss Hutchins said.
I was beginning to feel chilly, but then again I’m easily susceptible.
Diamond, still with closed eyes, began to regulate her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, slowing it down. Then she put her hands out, palms up, and said, ‘Why are you here? Speak to me! I feel you, spirit! I know you’re here. Why? Why are you doing these things to your wonderful daughter?’
There was a quick intake of breath and then, in a voice a million miles from the Minnie-Mouse voice of old, Diamond, or someone – possibly male – spoke. ‘She’s defiling my home! Letting strangers in! She has no right! She must be stopped!’
Miss Hutchins’ shoulders squared and she stood up. ‘This isn’t your house, Daddy! You know that!’ she said. ‘This is
my
house! Left to me by Mama, and left to her by her mama, and back many generations! You have no right to this house! So you just get along now!’
Diamond Lovesy shuddered once and fell back in her chair. Humphrey ran to her. Looking at me, he said, ‘Iced tea, STAT.’ He really, really said that.
I looked at Willis and we both rolled our eyes. Diamond might have been a little more believable if she’d had any of her facts straight. Miss Hutchins had put that right, though. I poured some iced tea in a glass and handed it to Humphrey, who held it to Diamond’s lips. She sipped tentatively.
Miss Hutchins sank back down next to me. ‘If you people are really psychic detectives, I want to hire you to get rid of my daddy!’ Then she sat up and said, ‘I don’t mean kill him or anything. I just mean it’s way past time he should be at rest.’ Turning to me, she said, ‘Don’t you think so?’
BACK HOME
The girls got ready to go to dinner at the Eyes of Texas Steakhouse on the Black Cat Ridge side of the Texas Colorado River. It had a large patio hanging over the river, but as it was cold and damp outside, the girls thought they might eat indoors, which was just what Bess wanted to do. Megan and Alicia donned blue jeans and T-shirts, while Bess, although staying with blue jeans, opted for a gauzy top that floated around her upper body but had a deep enough V to show the little bit of cleavage she could pull up with the push-up bra she hardly ever wore. She spent way too long on her hair and make-up – long enough for Megan to notice.
‘What’s with you?’ she asked. ‘You look like you’re going to a party, for crying out loud!’
‘I think it’s good to look your best wherever you go,’ Bess shot back. ‘A T-shirt with “I’m with stupid” on it is not your best look.’
‘Maybe not, but it’s funny when I stand to your right and the arrow points at you.’
‘Hilarious,’ Bess said.
‘Hum,’ Alicia joined in. ‘Are we trying to impress someone?’
‘Are we going to eat or just stand here and grill me for a couple of hours?’ Bess asked, then stridently walked out the back door to the waiting minivan that was now their mode of transportation.
The other two laughed at her expense and headed for the van. ‘My turn!’ Megan shouted.
‘No, it’s not!’ Alicia shouted back, running to the driver’s door. ‘I’m on the schedule!’
‘Shotgun!’ Megan shouted instead, but was less than pleased to see that Bess was already occupying that location. Griping under her breath, she crawled into the back seat. Leaning forward between the two front seats, she said, ‘Y’all are both bitches, you know that?’
Alicia smiled and Bess laughed. ‘And proud of it!’ Bess said.
1934–1935
Edgar Hutchins hitchhiked three days after Christmas to San Antonio, where he found a Marine recruiter that was more than happy to sign him up. He brought with him the small amount of money he’d saved up since Helen had gone off to college. It had been his hope to spend it on a ring; instead, he used part of it for a good meal in a restaurant and a room for the night in a seedy hotel in a mostly Mexican part of town. The following day he began his journey to Parris Island, South Carolina.
After World War One, when the boot camp had seen more than thirteen thousand troops training there, the funding for Parris Island had all but dried up due to the severe decrease in the hectic demands of the war. By 1934 when Edgar arrived, there were fewer than three hundred men being trained. But these years before the onset of World War Two saw innovations in training. The new recruits learned how to fire automatic weapons and were among the first military personnel to see a demonstration of a trench mortar out of a combat situation. This should have excited Edgar, like it did most of the recruits then at Parris Island, but it didn’t. He hated the food, hated the uncomfortable cots, hated most of the guys in his barracks, and, most of all, he hated his D.I.
Gunny Sargent Monroe Lincoln was a career Marine who had served with honors during World War One, and was determined to make sure these peace-time leathernecks were up for anything that would be coming their way. He was fair but hard. Edgar didn’t see the fair, only the hard. He managed to spend the night in the brig twice for infractions and barely made it out of boot camp. But when he did, he was actually pleased to find out that he was being shipped to Shanghai, China.
W
illis and I went out to dinner alone that evening. Miss Hutchins recommended a nice place in Bourne, so we drove the few miles to the other town. I’d tried to talk Miss Hutchins into not hiring the, excuse the expression, ‘psychic detectives,’ earlier, but she was adamant.
‘I love having my little inn,’ she’d told me. ‘And I just can’t stand that Daddy is doing this! And he
did
kill my mother! Leaving me all alone for all those years.’ Tears had formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
‘I’m not convinced this is your daddy’s doing,’ I told her. ‘It seems more likely that there is a live hand involved here.’
‘You’re forgetting, E.J. I saw him twice. It was definitely my daddy!’
‘When was the last time you saw your father – before he died, I mean?’
She thought long and hard. ‘I must have been about six. He enlisted right after Pearl Harbor.’
‘So it’s possible you don’t really remember exactly what he looks like?’ I asked, keeping my voice as gentle as possible.
Her mouth stiffened into a straight line. ‘I have pictures of my father! Would you like to see them?’ she said, not happy.
‘Sure,’ I said, and smiled, hoping to take the sting out of what I’d said. It didn’t work. She got up stiffly and walked to a bookcase next to the fireplace. She grabbed two very old photo albums and brought them to the sofa. When I offered to help, she pulled the books away from me.
‘I’m fine on my own!’ she said with a little heat. ‘I’ve been basically on my own since I was ten years old, you know!’
‘I’m sorry—’ I started, but she interrupted.
‘Don’t be. I’m fine.’ She sat down next to me, put one book to her other side and one on her lap. ‘Here we go,’ she said, and opened the book to a wedding picture. The bride, the groom, parents, groomsmen, bridesmaids, flower girls – the whole shebang. Except that none of the men had faces. They had all been scratched out – not just marked out with a pen, but with enough force for it to rip through the paper to the black sheet the pictures had been glued to.
Miss Hutchins’ intake of breath was audible from where I sat. ‘When was the last time you looked at these?’ I asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I try not to dwell in the past. It’s too painful. A long time, I’d think. A very long time.’
She turned the page to reveal pictures of a honeymoon with a bride and a faceless groom. More pages, a mother holding a baby, and a faceless father standing with his arm around the woman. It was that way throughout the album. Miss Hutchins threw the book to the floor and grabbed the one sitting by her side. Again, all the male faces had been defaced. If there were two men, they were both faceless; four men, the same.
‘Uncle Herbert has been scratched out, too,’ Miss Hutchins said.
‘Uncle Herbert?’ I asked.
‘My father’s brother. He was the only family member left when my mother died, and he came to live with me. He died about five years ago.’ She thought for a moment, then said: ‘There were three of them – three brothers. Herbert was 4F so didn’t go to war, but both Daddy and his other brother, who I believe was the youngest one – Edgar, I think his name was – did. Daddy was in Europe, but Edgar died in the Pacific. Mama didn’t tell me what happened to him, so I guess it must have been pretty bad. Mama liked to gossip, and she would have told me if it was something I could hear about.’
‘Should we check the other photo albums?’ I asked her.
‘I’m almost afraid to,’ she said, dropping the second book on to the floor with the first.
I went to the bookcase and brought back three more albums. The third had no pictures scratched out, mainly because there were no men depicted. ‘These were taken after Daddy left for the war,’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘This next one,’ she said, ‘should be too.’ And it was. Those two books went to her other side, while she picked up the third. ‘I think this book is after Mama died. There probably aren’t a lot of pictures.’ And there weren’t. But there were some of a man – his face intact. ‘That’s Uncle Herbert,’ she said.
The pictures of Miss Hutchins were those of a pre-teen to a late teenager, and the man in the picture looked heavy and bloated. Neither he nor Miss Hutchins were smiling in any of the pictures. ‘Uncle Herbert drank a lot,’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘I think I watched over him much more than he ever watched over me. I always had to put out his cigarettes and move his whiskey bottles after he passed out on the sofa. Then I’d cover him up with the afghan my mother knitted so many years before. But then, one year I wasn’t fast enough and he dropped a lit cigarette on the afghan and burned a huge hole in it.’ Her lips were pursed again and you could tell she was still hurt and angry about the loss of this possession made by her mother.
She began to cry softly. ‘I don’t understand!’ she said. ‘Why would he do that? Scratch out his own face? And his brothers’ faces! Why would Daddy do that?’
I was pretty sure ‘Daddy’ had nothing to do with the defacing of the pictures. And I told Willis that while we partook of baked brie and white wine in Bourne.
Willis shook his head. ‘I don’t understand why
anyone
would do it.’
I agreed. Something was going on in Peaceful and I was bound and determined to find out what.
BACK HOME
It was a fairly typical Texas steakhouse: dead animals adorning the walls (deer heads, boar heads, whole raccoons, a bobcat sitting on a bare branch affixed to the wall), rock walls, a big fireplace going strong, hardwood tables with glossy finishes, and wait staff wearing black pants, white shirts, bolo ties and cowboy boots – both males and females.
There was a girl at the reception stand they knew from high school. ‘Hey, y’all,’ she said, greeting them with a big smile. ‘How many?’
‘Hey, Tiffany. Just the three of us,’ Megan said.
‘Come right this way,’ the girl said, and strode out in front of them.
The place wasn’t all that crowded for a Friday night, which did not bode well for the restaurant’s longevity. The building had been built as a seafood restaurant, which had lasted close to twenty years but changed hands when the chef/owner died. For a brief period it had been Italian – heavy on the pizza, which couldn’t compete with the national pizza chains in town, and was eventually bought by someone who wanted to turn it into a high-class bar. Since the county was dry and he could never get the correct paperwork to open a private club, it was sold before it ever opened. That’s when it became the Eyes of Texas Steakhouse. It had opened strong three years before, but had been on the wane ever since.
‘How’s this?’ the receptionist said, offering them a table in the middle of the room.
Sensing Megan was about to complain, and seeing Logan only one table away, Bess figured this was his section, so quickly said, ‘This is fine!’ with a big smile on her face.
The receptionist left and the girls sat down. ‘This is
not
fine!’ Megan said. ‘I’d rather have a booth! There are like a hundred empty ones! And did you notice Tiffany acted like she didn’t even know us?’
‘Maybe she got in trouble for being too friendly with the customers or something,’ Alicia suggested. ‘What are you going to get, Bess? The only vegetarian thing I see is a salad.’
‘I told you, I’ve decided to give meat a chance,’ Bess said.
‘Wasn’t that a Beatles’ song?’ Megan asked absently as she studied the steaks to try to figure out how big a one she could get without bankrupting their weekend allowance.
‘It was a John Lennon song,
after
the Beatles, and it was
peace
not meat,’ Alicia said with some authority.
‘Why do you know so much about the— Oh, wait! Graham the retro-king,’ Megan started.
But Alicia cut in. ‘I think I’m going to have the fillet,’ she said. ‘With sweet potato fries and a Caesar salad. And maybe we can share the chocolate lava cake for dessert?’
‘Share, my ass,’ Megan said. ‘I want a whole dessert and I’m looking at the banana split. If I have room after my sixteen-ounce porterhouse with balsamic vinegar-glazed mushrooms, risotto, and the grilled asparagus.’
‘Jeez, Megan, there won’t be any money left over for Alicia and me!’ Bess said.
‘You don’t eat much,’ Megan said.
‘Well, I’m going to!’ Bess declared. ‘I’m having the six-ounce sirloin, a baked potato and a side salad. And my own dessert – that apple crisp with the Blue Bell ice cream!’
Alicia brought out her phone and turned on the calculator app. ‘Hum, well, we can have the desserts or we can have the dinners, but we can’t have both. Megan, if you were to get something
reasonable
, then maybe, but a sixteen-ounce porterhouse? That’s like almost thirty dollars!’
‘But that’s what I want!’
‘Well, as Daddy would say, want in one hand—’ Bess started.
‘Yeah, I know, and poop in the other—’ Megan continued.
‘And see which one fills up first!’ Bess finished.
‘Gross!’ Alicia said. ‘Can we just make this happen? With dessert? Megan?’
‘Oh, fine! I’ll have the fillet. But the big one—’
‘Too expensive,’ Alicia said.
‘Fine,’ Megan said, teeth clenched. ‘The eight-ounce fillet. But I still want the risotto and asparagus!’
‘The asparagus is extra!’ Alicia said.
‘Jeez!’ Megan threw herself back in her chair, arms folded across her ample chest. ‘OK, fine! The tossed salad! Do you think I can have a tossed salad?’ she asked sarcastically, a trait learned at her mother’s knee.
‘Of course,’ Alicia said with a big smile.
‘Good choice, Megs,’ Bess said, also smiling.
‘Both of you – bite me!’ Megan said, refusing to look at either of her sisters.
Turning to Alicia, Bess said, ‘Speaking of Graham the retro-king, why aren’t you out with him tonight? I mean, it
is
date night!’
‘Yeah!’ Megan pounced. ‘Is there trouble in paradise?’
Alicia didn’t answer, but her lower lip began to tremble. Quickly she got up, almost knocking over her chair, and made a fast exit to the restroom.
‘What’d I say?’ Megan asked, staring after her foster sister.
‘What didn’t you say?’ Bess said with some disgust.
‘You started it!’ Megan said.
‘Hi, Bess,’ came a voice from behind her shoulder.
Bess whirled around, the smile already firmly planted on her lips. ‘Well, hey, Logan!’ she said. ‘I didn’t know you worked here!’
‘Yeah, I’ve been here like over a year. I’m assistant manager on Sunday nights,’ he said proudly.
‘Wow. That’s cool,’ Bess said.
‘Can I take y’all’s drink orders?’ he asked, a smile bringing out the dimples in his cheeks and the sparkle in his baby-blue eyes.
‘Hey, Logan,’ Megan said. ‘I’m here at the table too, you know.’
He grinned. ‘Hey, Megan. What do you want to drink?’
‘Diet Coke.’
‘Bess?’
‘Real Coke, and a real Sprite for Alicia.’
‘Yeah, I saw she was with y’all,’ Logan said. ‘Is she OK? Someone said they heard a girl crying in the ladies’ room.’
‘Ah, shit,’ Megan said, tossing her napkin down on the table. ‘I’ll go. Bess, you know what we want. Just order.’
‘Be nice!’ Bess called to her sister’s retreating back.
‘When am I not nice?’ Megan shot back, but noticed her sister wasn’t paying a bit of attention to her. Megan sighed and headed to the restroom. Alicia was sitting at a stool by the vanity when Megan came in. ‘Sorry,’ Megan said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Alicia nodded her head and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. ‘I know. It’s just … it’s just that …’ And she burst into tears.
Megan moved to her and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s OK, hon. Just let it out.’
‘He’s going back to UT in the fall,’ she said between sobs.
‘Graham?’
‘Yes! And he thinks we should date other people—’
Megan sat down on the stool next to Alicia, her body stiff and her face turning red. ‘Has that asshole been pressuring you for sex?’
‘No!’ Alicia said. ‘Not really.’ Sob, sob. ‘Maybe a little.’
‘You mean all the damn time?’
Alicia nodded her head.
‘I’m calling Mom!’ Megan announced and stood up.
Alicia stood up too, grabbing Megan’s arm. ‘Oh, God, no, Megs! Don’t do that! I don’t want Mom knowing about this! It would be awful!’
‘He has no right—’
‘If we’re a couple I guess he does,’ Alicia said, falling back down on the stool. ‘If we were just a “normal” couple, this would surely be going on, right? So why is it weird that he wants to?’
‘You
are
a normal couple!’ Megan said. ‘You
are not
related! Try to remember that.’
Alicia shook her head. ‘Not in the eyes of anyone who knows us. Not your parents or Grandma, but everybody at school thinks it’s weird. I’ve tried to keep it quiet, but—’
‘Yeah, I know – I told one of the twins and now it’s all over school.’
‘You didn’t mean to,’ Alicia said graciously. She sighed. ‘But the thing is I think it’s kinda weird, too. I mean I love him, but do I
love
him love him, or do I love him like a big brother?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.’
‘Ooo, gross.’
Alicia sighed again. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘So why are you so upset that he’s going back to Austin for school? And that he wants y’all to date other people? I think that sounds like a good thing under the circumstances. This way you can find out if you
love
him love him, or just little-sister love him.’
Alicia swallowed a sob, then got up and went to the sink where she splashed cold water on her face and dabbed it dry with a paper towel.
‘You’re right, of course,’ she said. ‘But it’s just … sad,’ she said finally. ‘Really, really sad.’
Megan sighed her own sigh and walked up to Alicia, putting her arms around her and hugging her. ‘Yeah, it is. It’s sad. I’m sorry.’
Meanwhile, after Megan left the table, Bess began giving Logan their food order. In the middle of it they both heard the front door of the restaurant slam open, and both turned to see what was going on. A young man, a big beefy blond wearing a serious frown, charged into the room. On seeing Logan, he pointed at him and said simply, ‘Outside! Now!’
Logan looked at Bess. ‘Ah. I’ll be … right back?’ he said, as if not certain if he would or not. He set his order pad down on Bess’s table and headed to the front door. As Logan drew close, the big beefy blond grabbed Logan’s upper arm and pulled him out the door.
Not liking the look of this turn of events, Bess got up from the table and headed for the door herself.
Megan and Alicia came out of the restroom just in time to hear their sister scream and see the front door close behind her. Not missing a beat, both girls ran for the front door just in time to see their waiter, Logan, flat on the ground and their sister Bess riding the back of some guy they didn’t know, flailing wildly at his head and shoulders.
Willis and I got back from dinner around eight. The house was glowing with light and looked quite welcoming, despite the ‘ghost’ that may or may not reside within. Unfortunately that welcome was shattered when we walked in the front door and saw Diamond Lovesy and Humphrey Hammerschultz in the living room regaling Miss Hutchins with yet another mediumesque display.
‘I feel him,’ Diamond whispered loudly. ‘He’s evil. So evil.’ She was standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched (I suppose to better feel all the evil), her eyes closed and her head tilted to the ceiling. I felt it was too bad her eyes were closed because she was missing the beauty of the ornately carved metal ceiling, the crown molding and the light fixtures that had to be at least a hundred years old … OK, so I have a thing for old houses.
‘Hello,’ I said loudly, hoping to break the spell Diamond’s shenanigans had produced. I got the desired result.
‘Oh, hello, E.J.! And Willis. How was dinner?’ Miss Hutchins asked.
‘Excellent,’ Willis said, walking further into the room and sitting down on the sofa next to our hostess. Humphrey already had settled himself in ‘Willis’s chair,’ as he was wont to describe it. ‘Thanks for the recommendation,’ my husband said, smiling down at Miss Hutchins.
She smiled back and patted his hand – encouraging me that all had been forgiven for his earlier blunder. ‘I’m so glad you enjoyed it.’ She looked up at Diamond Lovesy, who still stood in the middle of the room, arms still outstretched, swaying slightly but no longer staring at the ceiling. She was looking at Willis, and that look was anything but welcoming. ‘Miss Lovesy was attempting to channel my father,’ she said. ‘That means—’
‘I’ve heard about it,’ Willis said, and gave the medium the most insincere smile I’d ever seen cross my husband’s face.
‘Well, we haven’t gotten much so far,’ Miss Hutchins said to Willis as I found one of the armless stuffed chairs to plop into.
‘We’ll wait,’ Willis said. ‘Looking forward to it.’
Diamond’s outstretched arms fell to her side, and her head lowered as if she was studying the floor. She shook her head slowly from side to side. Then, looking up at Miss Hutchins, she said, ‘I’m sorry. He’s gone.’
‘Oh, bother!’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘I really wanted to have a talk with him!’ She frowned, and her lips tugged into a thin line. Pushing herself to her feet, she said, ‘Well, I think it’s time for a hot toddy, don’t y’all?’
The ‘hot toddy’ consisted of the bottle of whiskey from the previous afternoon and five glasses. ‘Do you have any wine?’ I inquired.
‘Oh, dear! Of course! I should have asked!’ Miss Hutchins said, starting to push herself up from the table.
I beat her to it. ‘Just tell me where it is,’ I said.
‘The white is in the refrigerator, of course, and the red is in the cupboard above the sink. The wine glasses—’
‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll just use the one you’ve already—’
‘Of course not! These are high ball glasses! Let me get you a wine glass,’ she said, again starting to push herself up. I, of course, was wishing I’d just drunk the damn whiskey.
‘No, no, you sit. I’ll find the wine glasses.’
‘In the hutch in the dining room. Top right door,’ she said.
And I was off in search of my goodies, leaving the four of them to devour the whiskey, which, I noticed when I returned, they’d done.
‘Oh, I have another bottle! Uncle Herbert bought a whole case a week before he died. He was only able to drink about four bottles of it,’ she said. ‘Willis, dear, it’s also in the hutch. Bottom right. You might want to bring two bottles.’
And so we sat and drank, and I noticed Humphrey Hammerschultz seemed to partake of more than his share. Diamond was limply drunk after about four glasses, while I wasn’t far behind after three glasses of chilled white wine. After losing those thirty-five pounds, I find I get drunk faster. Who knew? Willis, the animal, sees that as a plus.
At around ten, both Diamond and I excused ourselves and helped each other up the stairs. An hour later, Willis woke me up when he came in the room by turning on the overhead light.
‘Arugh!’ I said, shielding my eyes while simultaneously staring daggers at my husband. ‘Turn off that effing light!’
‘God, you’re a mean drunk,’ he said.
‘Don’t make me hurt you!’
‘Yeah, you and what army?’ he said, crawling on the bed and attempting to kiss me. It felt more like he was licking me.
‘You’re drunk!’ I accused.