Текст книги "Mama Gets Trashed"

Автор книги: Deborah Sharp

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

No one said a word as Jason walked away. The waiter approached, with our dessert plates and coffee crowding a tray. Mama leaned close and grabbed my wrist, so hard it hurt. She whispered in my ear, her breath a hot blast.

“You know what they say about playing with fire, Mace. Somebody’s bound to get burned.’’

fourteen

Marty took a sharp breath. Step faltering, she clutched my hand.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.’’ Her voice was hushed. “She’s the image

of Camilla.”

From Mama’s living room, we could see our dinner guest through the glass panels of the front door. Illuminated by the front porch light, the sister of the murder victim hesitated. She looked like she was trying to decide whether to ring the bell, or turn and run.

Mama was in the shower. She’d insisted Sal go out and leave us women alone to meet Camilla’s sister. He’d taken Teensy, so the frantic-barking, early-warning system was absent. The young woman had crept so quietly across the porch, her presence took Marty and me by surprise.

The doorbell rang. I gave Marty a little push across the living room.

“Buck up, sister. You invited her over because she can use some support. Now, answer the door so we can be supportive.’’

Squaring her shoulders, Marty welcomed Prudence Law into Mama’s home.

She did indeed look just like the newspaper picture of her slain sister. Her features were small and serious; her hair was long and dark. A fringe of bangs framed enormous eyes. Tonight they were puffy and red, and filled with sadness.

My sister clasped Prudence’s hand in both of hers, and pulled her across the threshold. “I’m Marty, and this is Mace. I worked with Camilla at the library. We are so terribly sorry for your loss.’’

Nodding in agreement, I stood by feeling useless. Marty and Mama were more skilled at giving comfort. I was relieved to hear the clack of Mama’s kitten-heeled sandals as she bustled from the bathroom hallway to the living room. She must have hurried to finish dressing. Her hair was damp, and she wore only one of the lemon-sherbet colored earrings that matched her pantsuit and shoes. A yellow scarf at her neck was slightly askew.

“Oh, honey … C’mere and let me give you a hug.’’ She enveloped Prudence in a baby-powder-scented squeeze.

Stiffening slightly, our visitor seemed taken aback. I’d always heard the English were standoffish. Mama’s hold didn’t loosen. Soon, Prudence surrendered. She lowered her head to rest on Mama’s shoulder.

“What an awful, awful thing.’’ Murmuring, Mama stroked the young woman’s back. “Don’t worry. We’re going to find out how this happened to your sister, aren’t we Mace?’’

When I didn’t answer, she peeked around Prudence’s head and scowled at me.

“The police are doing everything they can.’’ I refused to let Mama bully me into making an empty promise to Prudence about something that didn’t involve me or my family. “I just know they’ll get you some answers soon.’’

_____

“You’re missing an earring.’’ Maddie deposited several take-out containers from the Pork Pit on the kitchen counter, and then pointed to Mama’s right ear.

Mama examined her reflection in a silver toaster. “Well, you girls might have mentioned that before Maddie got here. Plus, my scarf looks like a monkey escaped from the zoo and came to my house to practice his knot-tying skills.’’

Removing her scarf, she shook out the wrinkles from the lopsided bow.

Marty peered down the hallway to make sure Prudence was still in the bathroom, and then hissed at Mama: “We were a little distracted!’’

I brought Maddie up to speed. “We were busy trying to comfort the loved one of a murder victim. But I can see how providing fashion commentary for Mama should have taken precedence.’’

“Don’t sass me, girl.’’ Mama slapped my wrist with the sherbet-colored scarf. “You are not too big for me to go out to the tree and cut a switch.’’

“Ooooooh!’’ I held out my hands and shook them. “I’m trembling.’’

Mama turned her back on me and re-tied her scarf. She started searching through her cabinets for serving platters for the meat and big bowls for the side orders.

“I don’t know why we can’t just eat out of the take-out boxes. You’re making extra work with all those dishes to wash,’’ I said.

“Well, why don’t I just dump out everything right on the table? We can eat off that. Who needs plates anyway?’’ Mama rapped her knuckles on the tabletop. “Heck, who needs a table? Maybe we should put dog bowls on the floor, and get down there and eat with Teensy. That way we wouldn’t have to wash any silverware, either.’’

“Since when does Teensy eat from a dog bowl? Every time I’m here, you’re feeding that ridiculous mutt by hand.’’

I looked at my sisters. Marty gave me a conspiratorial wink. Maddie didn’t seem to be paying attention. She’d pulled one of the white plastic containers aside. “No Sauce’’ was scrawled across the top with a heavy black marker. “The plain chicken breast is mine.’’ She pointed to the box. “My stomach’s still not feeling right.’’

Mama’s brow immediately furrowed, but Marty shushed us all with a whisper. “Here comes Prudence! Try to behave, would you? And let’s use the plates and the silver. We don’t want to reinforce her worst stereotypes about Southerners.’’

“Agreed.’’ Mama put a finger to her own lips, kissed it, and then placed it gently over my big mouth. “No sniping tonight, honey. Best behavior.’’

“I second that,’’ said Maddie. She poured herself a glass of soda water. When she sipped, a loud burp escaped.

“What did I just say?’’ Mama scolded. “Manners, Maddie!’’

Prudence’s face was flushed, and a bit damp. She’d been in the bathroom for quite a while. Had she been crying? I thought of how I’d feel if one of my sisters died. A natural death would be bad enough. But to know Marty or Maddie had suffered at the hands of some sex maniac? I don’t think I could stand that.

Mama finished dishing up the food. Marty was laying out plates. Maddie followed with silverware and a folded napkin for each place setting.

“What would you like to drink?’’ I asked Prudence. “We have sweet iced tea, wine, beer, or soda.’’

“Maybe I should stick to soda. I should have my wits about me, in case the police call with news.’’

She looked with longing at a box of sweet pink wine Mama had just hefted out of the refrigerator. Not waiting for Prudence to amend her order, Mama said, “One little glass isn’t going to hurt you, honey. You can dilute it with a bit of fizzy water or lemon-lime soda, if you’d like.’’

Relief flashed across Prudence’s face. “No, the wine alone will do quite nicely.’’

Mama handed over the glass, filled to the rim. Prudence didn’t protest that it was too much, or that she didn’t usually partake. She steadied the glass in both hands, raised it to her mouth, and took a huge swallow. Marty, Mama, and I exchanged a glance. Maddie didn’t seem to notice.

As Mama and Marty finished pouring their drinks, I watched Maddie. She smoothed her napkin, tucking it under her plate. Then she straightened her fork, which she’d already placed at a precise angle. She pulled her smart phone from her pocket, and checked for messages. With a small shake of her head, she put it away.

This was the longest I’d ever seen my sister last without filching a bite or two of food before a meal began.

“Let’s eat,’’ Mama said, as she sat. She reached across the table and the four of us joined hands. Prudence, who’d begun unfolding her napkin, looked wary.

“We normally say a blessing, honey.’’ Mama nodded for Maddie and me to include her in the circle. “Do you mind?’’

Her face reddened. “Of course not. Please, do go ahead.’’

Mama thanked the Lord for the food she was about to serve. Hopefully, He didn’t subtract points for the fact she hadn’t actually cooked it. She thanked him for bringing her girls together, and for showing Prudence the path to her home. Then she finished up.

“Please God, watch over this dear girl. Help her overcome her sorrow. Please guide the authorities in their efforts to find out what happened to her sister, Camilla. And, if you should wish it, please make Mace do what she ought to and use her skills to find the murderer.’’

I aimed a sharp kick at Mama’s shin. Too late. Prudence dropped our hands and lifted her face. She stared at me, those big eyes filled with questions.

“What does your mother mean? Can you find out what happened to Camilla? Can you find out who killed my sister?’’

In the silence that followed, I heard Maddie take another sip of soda water. Marty’s foot tapped nervously. The Elvis Presley clock on the wall made a brushing sound as the singer’s famous pelvis swung back and forth. Mama’s smile was as innocent as a baby’s.

Finally, Marty spoke. “Mace is an amateur detective.’’

“She’s solved several murders—with my help, of course.’’ Mama patted her hair.

“I’m not sure the cops would put it that way.’’ I was thinking of one particular cop. “They might say I’ve stuck my nose into some cases where it didn’t belong.’’

“She’s being modest.’’ Marty offered our guest the platter with the chicken and ribs. Prudence took a serving of each, dousing them with barbecue sauce. “Mace has a different way of looking at the world—’’

“You can say that again.’’ After interrupting, Maddie added nothing more.

I missed her jibes, the normal Maddie behavior. This Maddie? Quiet? Worried? Hurting? This wasn’t normal. I wanted normal back.

Our little sister also seemed to be waiting—in vain—for Maddie to toss a zinger. “Anyway,’’ Marty finally continued, “Mace notices things other people don’t. She usually arrives at a conclusion of who might have done the crimes before the police do.’’

“Crimes, plural?’’ Prudence tackled her chicken leg with knife and fork.

“My family is exaggerating. I’ve gotten lucky a couple of times.’’

“Four,’’ Mama said.

A bite of drumstick paused midway to Prudence’s mouth. “How common are killings in Himmarshee?’’

“The last few years have been unusually murderous,’’ I said.

“How fascinating. I’d love to talk to you some more about your methods. What kinds of things do you look for? What clues tell you someone might be capable of murder?’’

She hoisted her empty wine glass, eyebrows raised in a question. Marty refilled it. It appeared Prudence had stopped worrying about how sober she’d be if the police should call.

“Why don’t you tell us something about your sister?’’ Marty smoothly changed the subject from Himmarshee’s recent history of homicides. “Were you identical twins?’’

Prudence took a swallow of wine. Her eyes welled with tears. Marty looked stricken.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you pain.’’

“It isn’t your fault, Marty. I’m feeling a bit guilty. I’m angry at myself that a petty argument led us to become estranged.’’

“What was the fight about?’’

Now, that was the Maddie I knew: To the point. Short on sensitivity. Prudence frowned at Maddie’s blunt question.

“It was just something between sisters. Our bond as twins wasn’t broken; merely frayed.’’ She pressed her lips together, gaining composure. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that. I’d rather remember how close we once were: like peas in a pod, everyone said. We even spoke our own secret language as children.’’

“That’s not uncommon with twins, I’ve heard,’’ Mama said.

“My sister was always so clever. Far smarter than I …’’

Prudence worked on the rib she’d taken, slicing off a bite of meat from the bone. Ribs were usually eaten with the hands, chicken drumsticks, too. But none of us pointed that out. She poured on more sauce; sawed off another piece. “My, that’s quite good!’’

“Anyway,’’ she finished that rib and continued, “that’s why I can’t understand …” Her words tapered off as she helped herself to a couple of spoonfuls of potato salad.

“What?’’ Mama prodded.

“Well, that outfit,” Prudence said. “That was not the outfit of a smart girl; a girl who was top of her class.”

I came to her sister’s defense. “Now, we don’t know how or why she was wearing those clothes—’’

“I do,’’ Prudence said. “I know a bit about these kinds of things. Leather wear and a fetish collar, complete with metal O ring; being submissive. It’s sick is what it is. I thought it was something Camilla had put behind her.’’

“Maybe that clothing wasn’t her choice,’’ Marty said.

“Sad to say, it probably was. She took risks, romantically speaking.’’ Her voice went cold. “Sexually speaking. I did not approve. For such a clever girl, Camilla could be quite stupid.’’

What seemed like raw hatred flickered in her eyes, but the look was gone so quickly I wasn’t even sure I saw it. A strained silence settled over the table. Prudence stared at her plate. When she finally looked up, her expression was pleasant. Neutral. She gestured at the meat platter.

“Do you suppose I could have another one of those ribs, and some more of that sweet red sauce?’’

Until then, I hadn’t noticed she’d blotted up every bit of her barbecue sauce with a piece of cornbread. Camilla Law’s grieving twin seemed to have an unusually hearty appetite.

fifteen

A high-pitched sound penetrated Mama’s front door—like a dentist’s drill crossed with a power saw.

“Mama, if you don’t make Teensy stop that hideous barking, I’m going to skin him alive and make a couch pillow out of his coat.’’

Maddie must have been feeling better. She was back to slinging zingers.

“He’s just happy to be home, honey. By the way, if you ever harm one hair on my dog’s head, I’ll—’’

“—Give her a medal?’’ I finished the sentence.

I heard the key turn in the door. The little dog skittered across the tiled entryway, bounded through the living room, and burst into the kitchen. He ignored everything but his mission: To reunite with his mistress. Teensy rounded a kitchen chair, performed an aerial launch over my outstretched legs, and leaped onto Mama’s lap.

“Just look at my precious little boy.’’ She held the Pomeranian aloft, waving a paw at Maddie and me. “How could you girls even joke about hurting him?’’

“I wasn’t joking,’’ Maddie said.

Dinner was done, but we still lingered at the kitchen table. Pleading exhaustion, Prudence had left as soon as she finished her dessert. Considering how much she’d drank, it was a good thing Marty offered to drive Prudence in her rental car to her motel. I was glad she was the sister keeping her company.

Sal’s Bronx boom echoed from the living room. “Could you believe that scrawny mope? Offering to arm wrestle me?’’

I heard Carlos’s more subdued tone. “It’s the typical barroom correlation between number of beers and lack of sound judgment.’’

Even the timbre of his voice gave me a little shiver of desire. Mama was right. If I was smart, I wouldn’t do anything to burn what we had together.

“We’re in here, Sally.’’ Turning in her chair, Mama quickly surveyed her reflection in the countertop toaster. She Apricot Iced. Then, she offered the lipstick to me. In vain, of course.

“Well, at least wipe the barbecue sauce off your face,’’ she hissed.

“Carlos likes barbecue sauce.’’

Maddie laughed, and the sound warmed my heart.

I handed Mama a banana from the fruit bowl on the table. “Quick, take the peel off this and drop it down your blouse.’’

She cocked her head in a question.

“I told Maddie how good that rotten banana looked on you when we were digging through the dump for your ring.’’

“Shhh!’’ She craned her neck to look toward the living room. “Don’t remind Sal. He’s none too happy his ring nearly got trashed.’’

The ceramic ducks on Mama’s display shelves shook as Sal’s heavy footsteps led the way to the kitchen. “There’s my gorgeous gal!’’ Gawgeous, he said. “Am I the luckiest husband in the world, or what?’’

Mama jumped up for a hug. Sal gave her a long, wet-sounding kiss. Trapped in the center of their tight embrace, Teensy squirmed to get free. Sal placed the dog on the floor and went in for a second smooch, this one even more passionate.

“Get a room, would you?’’ Maddie said.

Carlos squeezed around Sal to put a hand on my shoulder. When

I lifted my face for a more personal greeting, he pointed a finger toward my chin. “You’ve got something orangey-red all over there.’’

Mama’s smile was victorious as she handed me a damp napkin.

I wiped the remnants of dinner off my face while the two men got settled at the table. Teensy hopped onto Sal’s lap, and was soon snoring atop the spacious expanse of the big man’s stomach. Carlos asked, “How’d it go with the victim’s sister?’’

“Prudence,’’ I said. “And the dead girl’s name was Camilla.’’

“I’m working the case. I know their names.’’

“So why don’t you use them?’’

“Carlos don’t mean nothing by it, Mace. Sometimes cops depersonalize the people involved in crimes—both the victims and the perps. It makes the job easier. Right, partner?’’

Carlos’s only answer was a curt nod.

“Well,’’ I said, “we just spent a couple of hours with Prudence. It seems to me the death of her sister was quite personal.’’

Carlos glowered at me. “I think I know that better than most.’’

I felt a sharp jab on the top of my foot. Mama should have stomped even harder with that kitten heel. I deserved it, for pointing out that murder is personal to a man who lost his wife in a vicious homicide.

Maddie rescued me. “Prudence told us she and Camilla were estranged.’’

Carlos lifted an eyebrow. “How estranged?’’ I could almost hear the wheels and gears grinding in his detective’s brain.

We caught him up with what she’d said—how their twin bond was strained but not torn, and how she didn’t want to elaborate on exactly why. “Did anyone else notice that mean look on her face when she talked about how Camilla was dressed?’’ I asked.

I was met with blank stares from Mama and my sisters. “I did think it was strange she wanted to grill Mace about solving murders,’’ Marty said.

“Prudence had the tough task today of officially identifying her sister’s body,’’ Carlos said. “She took it pretty hard.’’

“Has the medical examiner determined how Camilla died?’’ I asked.

Carlos exchanged a look with Sal. “It’ll all be in the newspaper tomorrow.’’

“My cousin Henry already told us what he’d discovered from his sources at the courthouse,’’ I said. “She was strangled, right?’’

Another curt nod.

Sal gently petted the sleeping dog. “Strangulation often has sexual overtones.’’

Flashing back to the racy getup Camilla wore, I fought the urge to say, Gee Sal, ya think?

Mama stood up and began clearing the table. “I’m putting a moratorium tonight on any more talk about murder, or sex.’’

“Sex, too?’’ Sal grinned at her. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re sending me to sleep on the couch. We haven’t been married long enough for that.’’

Mama snapped a dish towel at him. “Stop it, you!’’

Teensy awoke with a bark.

“We have leftovers,’’ Mama said. “Are you two hungry?’’

Sal licked his lips. “Starving—’’

“—We already ate,’’ Carlos said at the same time.

All of us laughed, except Maddie. The look on her face was serious. “Everything in this world seems to come down to sex one way or the other, doesn’t it? Wanting it. Getting it. Doing the wrong thing because of it.’’

Sal cocked his head at my sister. Strait-laced Maddie voluntarily bringing up S-E-X? Carlos and Mama aimed puzzled frowns her way, too. I was the only one at the table with any idea why Maddie’s mind was on sex.

The quizzical stares didn’t seem to register with Maddie. Frowning, she took out her phone again. Her face darkened as she began typing out a message, thumbs striking the keypad like angry pistons.

sixteen

“Just me. I’m back.’’

Marty’s voice from the front porch kick-started Teensy’s engines again. The dog darted to the door. In addition to shattering eardrums with his piercing barks, he seemed intent on protecting the home and the helpless humans inside. To wit: One hardened police detective from the mean streets of Miami; a three-hundred-plus-pound tough guy from Da Bronx; a principal whose raised eyebrow could silence a cafeteria full of middle-schoolers; an outdoorswoman and sometime alligator trapper; and a four-foot-eleven-inch dynamo whose dainty feminine stature belied an iron will.

“Teensy! Quiet!’’ Sal’s shout was so loud it made waves of the sweet pink wine inside Mama’s vibrating glass. It stopped the barks

in mid-yap. Teensy let out one final protest whine.

“Good dog! Everybody’s safe.’’ Marty scooped up the Pomeranian and brought him to the kitchen. Her face glowed a bit from hiking a mile or so back from the hotel in the warm evening. “You are SUCH a brave boy.’’

Wagging his whole body, Teensy dog-kissed Marty’s face from chin to forehead.

“Gross,’’ I said.

“Don’t encourage him,’’ Maddie added.

“Don’t listen to your sisters, Marty.’’ Mama chucked Teensy under the chin. “Only truly mean and awful people don’t like dogs.’’

“Oh, I like dogs, Mama. I just don’t like that dog.’’ I pointed at the offending animal wiggling in Marty’s arms.

“He’s not so bad.’’ Carlos reached out a hand to pat Teensy. Letting out a yip, the dog bit him on the thumb.

¡Dios mío, that hurt!’’ He narrowed his eyes. “Little bastard.’’

When Sal and I laughed, both Mama and Carlos scowled at us.

“Why don’t we all move into the living room?’’ said Marty, making peace. “Teensy can stay here and defend the kitchen against any further intruders.’’

Grabbing a bottle of soda water, Maddie followed the men out of the kitchen. Mama twisted the spigot on the box of wine, adding a half-glass more for Marty and her. I took three beers from the ’fridge for Sal, Carlos, and me.

“Uh-oh, Mama’s having more wine,’’ Marty said. “Somebody keep an eye on her ring.’’

Meeting Marty’s jibe with a frown, Mama spooned up some premium dog food for Teensy. When he skittered over to his bowl, she slid a doggie gate across the kitchen entryway and made her exit. Loud enough for us to hear her in the living room, she said, “It’s a shame the only one of my babies who never criticizes me has to stay in the kitchen.’’

I grabbed a seat next to Carlos on Mama’s peach-colored sofa. When I offered him one of the beers, he winced as he grabbed the bottle.

“Let me look.’’ I lifted his right hand, and examined the thumb. “The skin’s barely broken.’’

“It still hurts.’’

“Give me a minute,’’ I said.

In the bathroom, I rustled up some cotton balls and alcohol. I stepped over the doggie gate to get ice and a clean dishtowel from the kitchen. Teensy, scarfing his supper, barely noticed.

When I returned bearing my Nancy Nurse supplies, Carlos looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time. There is not a man alive who doesn’t like being fussed over—no matter how muy macho he is, or how hardened from a career of chasing scary criminals. If I’d learned nothing else from Mama’s lessons about womanly wiles, I had at least learned that.

Plus, I liked to be in charge in a medical emergency, so it was win-win for me.

I swabbed the wound—more of a scratch, really. “Does that sting?’’

“Not too bad.’’

I put my mouth close and blew on his thumb, just like Mama used to do for us when we were children.

“That tickles,’’ Carlos said.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe Mace will give you a lick off her lollipop.’’ Sal leered at us from his recliner.

“That sounds pretty good.’’ Carlos smiled suggestively. “There’s nothing like a sweet, juicy lollipop. I like the cherry ones best.’’

Marty laughed. I’m pretty sure I blushed.

“Has every couple in this family regressed to acting like hormonal teenagers?’’ Maddie said. “Get a room, you two.’’

“Don’t be such a sourpuss, Maddie,’’ Mama said. “You’re really off your oats, girl. Your ‘monthly visitor’ still giving you trouble?’’

Sal cleared his throat. Carlos got interested in reading the label of his Budweiser bottle. “Have you gone crazy?’’ Maddie stared at Mama.

Before Maddie inadvertently revealed I’d lied with that cover story about menstrual troubles, I said, “Nope, Mama’s not crazy. Just a little inappropriate, due to all that pink wine she’s consumed. Let’s talk about something else, why don’t we?’’

“Fine with me,’’ Mama said. “Let’s see if we can figure out what Maddie should wear to Kenny’s party. I’m still opposed to that yellow dress, honey.’’ She took a magazine off the coffee table and started leafing through the sticky-noted pages. “Now, I’ve marked pictures of dresses in shades that would be much more flattering with your complexion.’’

Sal heaved himself to his feet. “Fashion? That’s my cue to go to the den and catch some sports on TV.’’ Carlos wasted no time following the big man’s lead.

As soon as they were gone, Maddie exploded: “The yellow dress is fine. I have no damned intention of changing it, Mama. And I’ll thank you to keep your big nose out of my business.’’

I’m not sure which shocked Mama most. Was it pious Maddie using a curse word? Or was it her inaccurate characterization of Mama’s cute-as-a-button nose?

In a teasing tone, Marty said, “C’mon, Maddie. Mama’s nose isn’t that big.’’

Maddie turned her wrath on our little sister: “I am not in the mood for your appeasements. Not every insult can be forgiven, Marty. Not every slight can be patched over with a lame joke.’’

Marty looked like she’d been slapped. I tried to step in. “Okay, everybody, tempers are a little short tonight.’’

“There’s nothing wrong with my temper.’’ Mama glared at Maddie. “She’s the one who’s not acting like herself. You better shape up, girl. You don’t want to ruin your husband’s birthday party.’’

“This is not about Kenny! Can’t there ever be a single thing that’s about me?’’

If I didn’t know about the current problems between Maddie and her husband, I’d have laughed out loud. In their marriage, Maddie had always had the upper hand. Kenny was worshipful, always trying extra hard to please her. Their relationship was always 80 percent about Maddie; 20 percent about Kenny. Until now.

“Mama’s right,’’ Marty said. “There’s nothing festive about this mood of yours. You better get yourself into that yellow dress and a celebrating mood by Saturday.’’

Maddie was quiet; staring at her hands in her lap. I prayed she wasn’t going to cry. That would change things in an instant. If the other two ever witnessed Maddie in the state I’d seen, they would not rest until they knew what was wrong. And then they’d try to fix it.

“Lay off her, would you?’’ I said. “Can’t a gal have a bad night without her family jumping all over her?’’

Marty gave me a suspicious glance. “Why are you sticking up for Maddie? Seeing you two as allies is as likely as seeing the snake lie down with the pig.’’

Before Mama could pile on, Maddie got up and collected her purse from the table by the front door. Without a parting word, she walked out. The slam of the door shattered the stunned silence in the living room.

Of course, that started up Teensy again. If he hadn’t been causing such a ruckus, yapping and trying to breach the doggie barrier, I’d have asked Marty whether she pictured me as the serpent or the hog. Either way, I wasn’t flattered.

_____

Carlos and I sat on Mama’s front porch swing. It was just us, holding hands. Our silence was comfortable; companionable. Jasmine scented the warm air. A half-moon glowed above, outlining the clouds in silver. Crickets chirped. A barely-there breeze rustled through a magnolia tree. In the distance, a car with squeaky brakes stopped at the traffic light on State Road 70.

Mercifully, Teensy had settled down. Either he’d fallen back to sleep in the kitchen, or he’d choked to death on a second helping of his canine cuisine. Whatever, the quiet time alone with Carlos was a welcome change.

Mama and Marty tried unsuccessfully to get me to speculate on Maddie’s wordless departure. Marty left shortly after, saying she had to wake up early for work. Sal and Mama had decided to turn in, too.

Suddenly, a low moan sounded in the night. Both Carlos and I straightened on the swing, instantly alert. Was someone in pain? Did they need help? I stood and went to the railing. Leaning over, I peered into the yard. Bushes and trees cast dark, shadowy shapes. I couldn’t tell if anything out there was moving.

There was the moan again. And then a sigh. And then a high-pitched, feminine giggle.

Ohmigod, how embarrassing. “We can hear you, Mama!’’

The commotion was coming from the open window of the master bedroom, on the far side of the house.

Mama’s voice floated onto the perfumed air: “Shhhh! I think I heard something, Sally.’’

“You heard me! I’m trying to tell you to keep it down. Carlos and I can hear everything out here.’’

“Mace?’’

“Yes!’’ I rolled my eyes at Carlos.

“I thought all y’all went home.’’

“Well, Carlos and I didn’t. And we know what you’re up to inside. You should stop. Now.’’

The sound of muffled laughter and snickering made its way from the side of the house. Then came frantic whispering, and more giggling.

“Oh, for God’s sake,’’ I said. “Stop acting like adolescents. Get a room!’’

“We have one,’’ Sal called out. “If youse two would give us some privacy, maybe we could get around to using it.’’

“Yeah,’’ Mama added. “Why don’t you take your own advice, Mace?”

Great. Hearing the two of them wasn’t bad enough? Now, my own mother was advising me to spirit away my fiancé and get some sex on?

Carlos grinned at me; a sly, sultry smile that made me want to melt into a puddle on the porch. He fished his keys from his pocket.

“Did you hear me, Mace?’’ Mama called. “Why don’t you and Carlos ‘Get a room?’”

He dangled the car keys in front of my eyes.

I didn’t bother to answer Mama. I pulled Carlos off the porch and steered him onto the path that led to his car. His car with that nice, roomy back seat.

seventeen

The road home was dark, but I was still aglow. Nothing lifts your spirits like some back seat love-making while parked in a cow pasture. Climbing out of Carlos’s car and stepping on a cow patty didn’t even dampen my mood. Smooshing a second one, though, was a bit of a bummer. But more for Carlos than me.

“¡Dios mío, you stink!’’ he said, with typical male sensitivity. “Good thing you followed me in your Jeep. There’s no way I’d let you back into my car.’’

I high-kicked my leg outside, bringing one of the crap-clodded boots close to his face. He started the car and rolled up the window, leaving a tiny slit at the top to talk to me. “No kidding; that’s disgusting. I’ll wait here in my manure-free zone to make sure your engine starts.’’