On Tour (25 page)

Mammaw clapped her hands happily together. "Oh, we've missed you so much. But I've heard it through the grapevine you've had some wonderful adventures." Her voice was soft, her cheek smooth and cool as she leaned over to give me a hug.

"Where's your things and that rascal pup of yours?" Aunt Pearl asked, peering down the hallway.

"Mark's bringing everything this evening." I didn't meet her eyes.

"Hmph! Sounds a little fishy to me. Must be some infestation you got there."

"Yep," I said looking around the room. It was odd to see so many of the pieces of furniture and trinkets I remembered from childhood scattered about the plain apartment.

"So where are Granddaddy and Uncle Grover?"

Mammaw appeared to be listening to something. "Oh, they'll be along directly." She smiled serenely.

"Those two idjits!" Aunt Pearl sniffed. "There's no livin' with them since they got girlfriends. That Mrs. Kester's been here all day lookin' down her nose at everything. Fine by me if the old bitty doesn't want to live here."

"Oh, that would be so sad for Grover." Mammaw tsked.

And me. "Yeah, that would be a shame."

There was a knock at the door, followed by some rustling noises.

I opened it to find Granddaddy and Uncle Grover in a full blown shoving match.

"Tarnations, Grover!" Granddaddy yelled. "She's my granddaughter, ain't she? 'Sides you knocked first last time. Now give me some sugar, Queenie Baby." He leaned over to give me a hug and a kiss, but Uncle Grover elbowed him out of the way.

"Wrong again, Hacker!" Uncle Grover's bow tie had been knocked to one side in the scuffle, and Granddaddy's hat was on the floor. "If you'll recall, you—"

"Hey, guys," I waved my hand at them to get their attention. The argument ended as they both came forward to hug me. It took a couple of minutes to sort out the hugging order.

"If your girlfriends could see you two fools, they'd hightail it outta here," Aunt Pearl said.

This brought sober expressions to both men's faces. "Now, Pearlie," Granddaddy began.

"Don't Pearlie me." Aunt Pearl shook a finger at him. The lose skin on her upper arm flapped about like a bat wing or one of those flying squirrels. "I've got half a mind to tell them about you two old coots."

"Don't lump me in with the likes of him," Uncle Grover cried indigently. "I've shown Edna a lovely time. I won't have it spoiled by him." He pointed a finger at Granddaddy.

"Who you pointin' at? I already got me a woman. I didn't have to sip tea with her and play paper dolls to get her neither!"

"We weren't playing paper dolls," Uncle Grover insisted. "I took her to the Arts and Crafts shop, you nut."

"Rather be a nut than a fruit!" Granddaddy hollered.

Another argument ensued about who was nuttier. Mammaw slipped off to her room and came back with a giant white pleather purse over one arm.

"Where're you going, Mammaw?" I called over the noise.

"Time for dinner," she replied softly.

As if on cue, Granddaddy and Uncle Grover stopped arguing and made a beeline for the door.

I glanced at the clock. "But it's only 4:30."

"Dagnabit! We're late," Aunt Pearl said, jumping out in front of the two men and racing down the hallway as fast as her walker would allow.

"Gotta get the women-folk," Granddaddy explained with a wave. "Fish sticks! Whoppee!" he yelled and flung open the door. Uncle Grover followed decorously behind him.

I shook my head. I wasn't a bit hungry, but I guessed this was all part of The Meadows experience.

After twenty minutes of shuffling our way to the opposite side of the building, I was starting to understand Aunt Pearl's fear of being late for dinner. The dining room was connected to the back of the building, two hallways and an elevator away from the apartment.

"This is how we work up an appetite 'round here," Aunt Pearl cackled, pushing her walker an inch at a time. "That an' checkin' out the fellas." She nodded towards two gentlemen with canes several paces in front of us.

"How's that for a package?" she said loudly.

"Oh, Pearlie," Mammaw murmured.

One of the men turned around and gave us a wink. Oh, brother.

"Speakin' of packages," Aunt Pearl said slyly, "did you happen to bring your laptop with you, Diana?"

I rolled my eyes. No way was she getting hold of my laptop again. It had taken me weeks to get the porn sites to stop popping up every time I logged on. "Not gonna happen, Aunt Pearl."

"Well, can't blame a girl for tryin'." We turned a corner, and the walker traffic picked up and converged at two double doors. The smell of frozen fish and French fries wafted through the doorway.

Aunt Pearl rammed her walker into a lady in a wheel chair next to us. "Outta my way! Wheelchairs to the back of the line."

The woman in the wheel chair gunned it and cut Aunt Pearl off at the door. "Eat my dust, Pearl!"

"Hussy!" Aunt Pearl bellowed.

"Now, now," soothed Mammaw. "We don't need to rush, Pearlie. I'm sure they saved us seats."

Sure enough. I spied Granddaddy waving his hat madly at us. Next to him was an attractive, silver-haired woman. Uncle Grover and Mrs. Kester sat on the opposite side.

I nodded at Mrs. Kester. She sniffed at me.

"Are you enjoying your visit?" I asked.

"I was," she said, staring at me pointedly.

Oh, so that's how we were going to play it, huh? I turned towards Granddaddy. "And this must be Margaret."

"Sure shootin' is," Granddaddy said proudly.

I leaned over and shook the women's hand. Up close she looked like she'd earned her eighty years, however, her clothes were impeccable and her handshake firm.

"So nice to finally meet you," she replied sweetly. "What brings you here today?"

"She's got varmints at her condo," Granddaddy interjected.

"Varmints?" Mrs. Kester asked with a sneer.

"Uh-yeah," I stammered. "I've got bugs in my condo."

"From that mutt of yours, no doubt," Mrs. Kester sniffed.

"More likely she got 'em from you!" Granddaddy pointed at Mrs. Kester.

Uncle Grover sucked in his breath. "You'll take that back Hacker or I'll—"

"That really wasn't very gentlemanly," chastised Margaret softly.

Granddaddy straightened up in his seat. "I apologize, Edna." He nodded to Mrs. Kester.

Mrs. Kester nodded back grandly and fluffed out her napkin. A server poured iced tea and water and laid plates laden with microwaved fish sticks, French fries, and mixed vegetables in front of us.

"Table service," I commented.

Uncle Grover nodded. "Five o'clock dinner is served at the table for civilized people. From six to seven-thirty there's a hog trough set out for the rest."

Granddaddy pointed a hunk of fish at Uncle Grover. "I like the buffet. Ya get what ya want that way. 'Course I suppose this is more like a dinner date." He waggled his unkempt eyebrows at Margaret. She took a sip of tea and smiled at him.

Dinner proceeded as smoothly as possible with all four Grands at the table. I pushed the food around on my plate. The combination of being completely unnerved by Tyrell's call and the really bad food had taken care of my appetite.

As tepid coffee and runny chocolate pudding were served, I went on a fact-finding mission with Mrs. Kester.

"So how do you like The Meadows, Mrs. Kester?"

She glanced over at me suspiciously. "I like it just fine, although I find the apartments are a bit small. And, of course, there's no yard."

Uncle Grover interjected, "But Edna we have a beautiful garden area outside. Flowers, shrubs, and you don't have to lift a finger."

She nodded. "Yes, it's very nice. And I must say the neighbors are more to my taste."

Right back at you, lady. A low growl started in my throat.

Uncle Grover said quickly, "And we had a great time at the hobby shop." He turned to us. "She made the prettiest picture of a sunflower. Show them, Edna."

"We learned a stamp and embossing technique," she said primly, as she reached for her purse. Not surprisingly, it was a big, brown pleather replica of Mammaw's purse. "The instructor was quite good."

"Yeah, Sherry's alright I guess," Aunt Pearl said between mouthfuls of pudding, "but I liked our old teacher better. He had buns of steel."

I choked on my coffee, and Granddaddy jumped up and pounded me on my back. I held up a hand to indicate I was alright.

"Oh, that's just lovely, Edna," Mammaw murmured peering at the paper Uncle Grover passed her. "I do hope you'll consider joining us here at The Meadows."

Mrs. Kester glowed. "Well, I do thank you for making me feel welcome."

Granddaddy peered at the paper and then tossed it my way.

I glanced down at the paper and let out a startled yelp. I jumped up and upset my coffee cup, ruining the paper.

Mrs. Kester gasped.

"It's you!" I shouted holding up the soggy paper. "You're The Spider!"

My hands shook as I raised the dripping paper and pointed it at Mrs. Kester. The giant sunflower with the black furry spider hung limply in my hand.

"I knew it!" I cried.

Everyone at the table stared at me like I'd lost my mind. The surrounding tables didn't seem to notice. Maybe this kind of thing happened all the time around here.

Mrs. Kester pointed at me. "This is what I deal with on a daily basis. Rock star antics. Probably on drugs!"

Granddaddy gasped and jumped up from his chair. "You take that back! Diana ain't a druggie!"

Uncle Grover nodded, saying, "I know you don't get on well, but really, Edna, calling Diana a drug addict is rather harsh."

"I call 'em like I see 'em." She pointed a gnarled finger at me. "She's talking crazy, isn't she? Look at those wild eyes!"

They all leaned in to get a better look at my eyes. I tried to calm myself. Maybe it was just a coincidence that Mrs. Kester's picture had a big black spider on it. I took a deep breath.

Mrs. Kester snatched the ruined picture from me and stuffed it back into her giant purse. "I'd like to wait for my son to pick me up at your apartment, Grover. I'd prefer not to be in
her
company any longer."

Uncle Grover jumped up and helped Mrs. Kester out of her seat. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," he murmured.

Mrs. Kester glared at me and turned on her heel.

"You know how to keep it lively, Queenie Baby," Granddaddy cackled. "Why'd you call her a spider? Not that she don't deserve it," he added.

I shook my head numbly. Across the room, a waving hand caught my attention. Mark! I left the table without a word and ran over to throw myself in his arms. My nerves were shot. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Everything okay?" he murmured into my hair.

I sucked in his smell and shook my head. "No, just losing my mind. I accused Mrs. Kester of being The Spider."

Mark laughed. "She's not. I already checked."

I told him about the picture as The Grands shuffled over. He didn't seem concerned. "I think it's just a coincidence, Diana. But maybe Marsha and Andre can check in with the instructor. They'll be here in the morning posing as a couple looking for a place for an elderly parent."

The Grands greeted Mark. Granddaddy introduced him to Margaret who offered her hand, saying, "Your Diana is quite the character."

"It runs in the family," Mark replied.

They howled. Aunt Pearl said, "He's a keeper!"

I followed Mark out to his car to get Max and my bags. It was still warm and bright, so Mark suggested we let Max stretch his legs. We walked along the tree-lined road back towards the entrance. Mark brought me up to speed on his trip to Miami.

"I've got a flight out of Philly at midnight. The Organized Crime Unit is meeting with Sal Bonanno, and I've asked to be there."

I looked over in surprise. "Calling in more favors? At this rate you'll be back to working full-time for the CIA," I said glumly.

Mark ignored the reference to his employment status with the CIA. "I'm hoping they'll make him an offer he can't refuse. No charges and witness relocation if he gives up the hierarchy within this The Spider's organization. Organized Crime wants more on the Five Families. I think we've got a chance at him taking the deal if it focuses on the assassin ring instead of selling out The Families. I need to be there to make sure it happens."

"They'd actually let a hitman back on the street? He tried to kill me and he blew up your boat with Marsha and Andre on it. Is it really worth it to let him out?"

"It's the break we've been looking for, and I think this'll tip the scales in our favor. Sal Bonanno is our best chance, Diana. Other than him all we've got is Tyrell and some Alzheimer's patients serving life sentences. Not the most reliable sources." He turned to me and hugged me to him. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

The beeping and honking of a car broke up our embrace. An SUV screeched to a halt next to us, and my mother appeared at the window.

"What in the world are you doing here, Diana?" she asked. My step-father, Dave, waved from the passenger seat. He was a retired lawyer who was quite a bit older than my mom. He wore monogrammed Ralph Lauren golf shirts even though he rarely had time to actually golf as he spent most of his days riding shot-gun with my mom on her endless shopping trips.

"My condo's being fumigated, so I'm staying with The Grands for a couple of days," I replied, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back.

My mom gave me an appraising look. "And you didn't call me? We've got more room than The Grands. Are you making poor Mark stay with Granddaddy and Grover? 'Cause that's no way to keep a man, Diana. One night with those two, and he'll chew his leg off to get away."

Mark leaned in the window. "I'm leaving on business tonight. I was just stopping by on my way to Philly."

My mom sniffed the air. "Oh, my," she said huskily, "Diana's right, you do smell good."

I rolled my eyes. Mark laughed. "Thanks. I try."

She sniffed again, saying, "We're on our way to dinner. Would you like to join us? The food in that place is one step above TV dinners." My mom waved her French-manicured hand in the direction of The Grands' apartments.