Out of the Easy(62)

I nodded and they left. They looked like fashion dolls together. Perfect in appearance but plastic in attraction. Her words, “like a sister,” scraped at me. Had Patrick really said that?

Very few went to the cemetery. Miss Paulsen said she couldn’t bear it and instead went to the house to help prepare for the luncheon. Although she was upset, she said she understood why we had gone to such lengths to protect Charlie and found it very admirable.

Patrick stared at Charlie’s grave. He looked solemn but beautiful in his dark suit. I looped my arm through his. “You take all the time you need.”

We stood alone with Charlie for nearly an hour.

“There’s so much I need to tell him. Things he didn’t understand. But, no, there are Jell-O molds and pinwheel sandwiches waiting for us,” complained Patrick. “It’s payback for all the funeral luncheons I’ve gone to, hunting for books.”

“Come on, you know Sadie doesn’t make Jell-O,” I told him.

The house was packed. The volume dipped when Patrick walked in, and people approached to again offer their condolences. I made my way in next to Patrick, and suddenly my feet stopped moving. In the corner. Near the punch bowl. I grabbed Patrick’s arm.

Mother.

She wore a turquoise dress, much too loud for a funeral luncheon. Her hair was dyed a cheap shade of yellow, the roots dark and exposed. Her complexion was drawn and gray.

What was she doing here? I knew the answer. Food, free drinks, and—I couldn’t help the thought—the opportunity to case the house. My eyes darted around for Cincinnati.

She cut straight for me, red nails wrapped around her punch glass.

“Baby girl!” She put her arm around me without actually touching me and kissed the air near my cheek. I put my arms around her wilted frame. She recoiled at the contact.

“Mother, you’re so thin.”

“Dexedrine,” she whispered. “It’s a new diet pill that’s being tested in Hollywood. It’s workin’ great. I think it’ll be all the rage once it’s approved. I can’t believe there are so many people here. I mean, it’s not like Charlie was somebody.”

“He was very beloved, Mother. He was also a celebrated author.”

“Well, book people, then. But they don’t really count.” She grabbed my wrist. “Where did you get that?” Her fingers quickly paraded over the gold watch from Willie. “That’s fourteen carat. Let me try it on.”

I gently pulled my arm away. “It was a gift.”

Patrick turned around and stared at Mother. “Hello, Louise.”

“Hi, there. I’m so sorry about your daddy. And how awful that he turned retarded like that. I’ve heard it can just happen”—she snapped her fingers—“like that. You poor thing, you must be so worried that it’s in the blood. You could end up with it.”

Patrick placed his hand on the small of my back and moved me closer to him. His face twisted with disgust. “You know, Louise, you’ve always been a piece of . . . work.”

Miss Paulsen called Patrick over to her.

“He’s turned bitter,” said Mother. “Are you guys together? You little vixen, you’re playin’ two hands. I hear you’re seeing Jesse Thierry too. Now, he’s a dish. But if Pat’s givin’ you gifts like this watch, I’d stick with him mainly. There’s bound to be more where that came from. But it’s good to keep Jesse around too because he’s the fun type.”

I stared at Mother, desperately trying to figure out how we shared a genetic strand. But I knew we must, because despite her awfulness, there was a part of me that loved her somehow.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about all the garbage that’s going on,” said Mother.

“I did. Were you with that man from Memphis?”

“I wasn’t with him, we had a drink together. It’s not a crime to have a drink with someone.” She drained her punch glass and set it in a planter. I picked it up.

“How did you meet him?”

“Oh, I don’t even remember. Out and about. That night was such a blast it’s all a blur.” She leaned in close. “I have an alibi.” She pronounced the word as if she’d rehearsed it.

“Was he a nice man?” I asked, needing to understand how my mother had intersected with Forrest Hearne.

“Nice? I don’t know. He was rich. The kinda rich you know as soon as you see it. Hey, Cincinnati’s in town, honey, maybe we can all go for dinner. He’s pals with Diamond Jim Moran now. You heard of him? He’s opening a restaurant here. He wears diamond everything, even his dental bridge has diamonds. I think Diamond Jim is single. Maybe we can all go on a double date.”

Thankfully, Miss Paulsen approached, so I didn’t have to respond to my mother’s insidious suggestion. “Everything well, Josie?” she asked.

“Miss Paulsen, this is”—I paused, swallowing the lie that was about to take flight—“this is my mother, Louise.”

“Lovely to meet you,” said Miss Paulsen in her crisp tone.

“Mother, Miss Paulsen is a professor of English at Loyola.”

Mother fished a wrapperless piece of chewing gum from her purse and started smacking on it.

“Oh, that’s nice. I’m in from Hollywood. You’ve probably seen my picture in the paper.”