Antiques Knock-Off (4 page)

She whirled and tromped out, slamming the door again, rattling the glass.

Mother was smoothing out her sleeves where Timmons had gripped her, gathering the shreds of her dignity.

“Whew!” Timmons said, with a roll of his eyes. “That’s one customer I don’t mind losing.”

“What was that about you cheating her?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The contentious Mrs. Grimes claims I overcharged her for a repair. I didn’t. Some people think they deserve special rates.”

“She deserves
something,”
I said. I was shaken up, but hadn’t realized it till it was over.

Mother said, “Thank you, Ben, for what you did….”

I voiced my appreciation, too. Mother could have landed in the county jail for that; in truth, she
had
attacked the woman. God bless her.

“Don’t mention it,” Timmons said with a smile. “Now. Why don’t two you go on home, and I’ll call you later with an estimate on your clock.”

As Mother and I walked down the long hallway, I asked, “What happened to using the tactics of our president—
talk
to the enemy and so on?”

“Well, dear,” Mother replied, “I decided to take the advice of a
different
president.”

“Which one?”

“T.R., dear. T.R.”

“Oh?”

“Walk softly,” she said with a chuckle, “but carry a big stick.”

But I wasn’t laughing. Connie Grimes would most certainly ramp up her attack on us.

I muttered, “She’s lucky somebody doesn’t kill her.”

“Look on the bright side, dear,” Mother said cheerfully. “Maybe someone will.”

A Trash ‘n’ Treasures Tip

With modern technology, fake antiques can be found among furniture, pottery, glassware, photographs, metal-works, and every other area of collecting. Even a skilled collector can sometimes be fooled. To protect yourself, become knowledgeable in your field of interest. For example, I know everything there is to know about smiley-face clocks.

P
eggy Sue lived in an expensive home in a new subdivision on the outskirts of Serenity, along with husband Bob, and Ashley, her only child (not counting me).

Bob, who ran his own accounting firm, was a workaholic—not by choice but necessity, thanks to Sis’s extravagant tastes. Ashley, a sophomore in college, attended an exclusive private school in the East and, even though spoiled rotten, she had Borne spunk in her DNA, which kept me from resenting her utterly for getting the soft, cushy life that might have been mine.

After the incident between Mother and Connie Grimes at the clock repair shop, I had called Peggy Sue to say I needed to see her, but didn’t want to go into details over the phone. We set up a time in the early evening, when Mother would be gone, rehearsing at the Playhouse for her upcoming community production, in which she would don dual hats as director and lead actress in
Opal Is a Diamond.

(Note one:
Referring to her role as the eccentric, garbage-collecting Opal, Mother had commented, “I’ll have to stretch my veteran acting chops to pull
this
part off.”)

(Note two:
When I went to the first rehearsal, I found director-Mother yelling at actress-Mother, “You’re playing that too
broadly,
Vivian,” and actress-Mother yelling at director-Mother, “You don’t know
what
you’re talking about, Vivian!” I vowed to stay away until opening night.)

Around seven
P.M.
, I pulled my battered Buick up the long wide concrete driveway to the triple garage of Peggy Sue’s monstrous three-story brick mansion. All inhabitants were home, apparently—the garage door was open, showing off Bob’s flashy silver BMW sports car, Sis’s blue Cadillac Escalade, and Ashley’s red Mustang convertible.

When I turned off my car, the engine knocked, and the tailpipe backfired a big ol’ car fart, giving me a perverse pleasure because the ruckus drew disapproving stares from a few snooty neighbors out in their picture-perfect yards. (Phew! I think that’s the longest sentence I ever wrote.)

Then up the yellow brick road to Emerald City skipped little me, to ring the bell. To my surprise, Ashley opened the door.

“I thought you were off at college,” I said.

Ashley was a beauty, and I had only admiration and not the tiniest twinge of resentment for her tall and slender form, set off by Peggy Sue’s auburn hair, only worn sleek and straight. My niece/secret-half-sis was prepped-out in a lavender Lacoste polo shirt, white shorts, and pink Puma canvas sneakers.

“No college till next week,” Ashley said, flashing white, perfect teeth. Okay, those I resented her for. She reached out and patted my tummy. “How’s the pregnancy?”

“Comin’ down the pike,” I said with a grin. “Just two more months.”

“Boy, you don’t look it!”

“You’re officially my favorite niece.”

“And your only niece.” She drew back and made room.

I stepped into the foyer, saying, “Now, doesn’t that feel good,” the air-conditioning welcoming me with outstretched arms.

As Ashley closed the door, she began, “Aunt Brandy, I was wondering …”

I turned to face her.

“… since I’m not taking my car to college, would you like to drive it while I’m gone? Otherwise, it’s just gonna sit useless in the garage.”

For a moment, I saw myself behind the wheel, tooling along the highways and byways, top down (the car, not me!). But then I envisioned Mother sneaking out, helping herself to the snazzy wheels with her bad eyesight and no driver’s license to make a midnight run to Walmart for chocolate mint ice cream … and getting stopped by the cops.

Who, at this point, would likely lock her up and throw away the key.

But was that a
bad
thing?

My thoughtful frown prompted Ashley to say, “It’s okay with Mom and Dad. I already asked.”

“It’s not that, Ash,” I replied. “I’d feel just terrible if something happened to it.” I smiled and touched her arm, “But thanks, anyway…. It’s really sweet of you to offer.”

A good kid. Here she was, instinctively treating me like a big sister when as far as she knew, I was just her lowly aunt.

As I proceeded down the gleaming blond-wood hallway—Ashley heading upstairs with a little wave and a wink—Bob stepped out of the side room that he used as his office-away-from-the-office.

I greeted him with, “Well, don’t
you
look tanned and rested.” He and Sis had just taken a much-overdue vacation to Hawaii.

“I don’t know about ‘rested,’ “he said with an easy
smile. “You know how your sister is—she ran me ragged, sightseeing.”

Even factoring in Peggy Sue’s ability to make having fun an onerous task, my comment had been a half-truth: Bob was tanned, but obviously anything but rested, appearing far older than his fifty or so, hair thinner, eyes more hollow, slender frame hanging off stooped shoulders.

As far as I was concerned, he was working himself to death for the love—and contentment—of my sister. The poor dumb slob.

“Hey, you don’t look so bad yourself,” he said. “Must be that fabled pregnancy glow we hear so much about!”

I smirked. “Any glow I have’s from being baked in the heat, Bob … or maybe half-baked. But thanks—a girl seven months along loves a compliment. Uh, say, uh … Bob …?”

“Yes?”

“If I’m stepping over the line, into confidential business stuff, just stop me.”

“Go ahead. If you are, I will.”

“Okay. Don’t Connie Grimes and her husband have some investments with you?”

“Yes….” His tone was guarded, and he looked puzzled. “But you’re right that I can’t tell you anything more than that.”

“That’s all I want to know. See, Mother and Connie had a little … run-in …”

“Run-in? How little?”

“Sort of a shoving match. Kind of one-sided. On Mother’s side.”

His eyebrows went up, then down. “Oh. I see.”

“And if we can’t get it straightened out … maybe you could have a little talk with Connie? Ask her to back off, and maybe forget about it? I have this little, uh, restraining
order where Connie is concerned, and then naturally Mother really can’t afford to get in any more legal jams.”

He was frowning in thought. “I get you. But, Brandy— we’re not really close, Connie and me … and I haven’t done any business with either her or her husband since they first invested, and that was a while ago.”

“Oh. Well. Sure. I understand.”

He melted. Peggy Sue must have seen that expression a million times. “But look, of course I will try—only maybe you and Peg could work to settle the thing with her, first.”

“Fair enough, Bob. Thanks. Sorry to impose.”

“No imposition. Anything for my best girl’s baby sister.” He gestured down the hallway. “And you’ll find my best girl in the kitchen.”

I hugged him, as much as my baby bump would allow anyway, and he patted my back like I was the baby and this was a burping session. Then he ducked back into his office.

I found Sis towel-drying off a few dishes at an island counter that had its own sink and glass top burners, just in case the nearby double sink and enormous stove couldn’t accommodate a family of three.

Barely granting me a glance, Peg said, “I have a DAR meeting in half an hour, so make it quick.”

Peggy Sue belonged to the Daughters of the American Revolution, and would lead you to believe that the distant ancestor who qualified her to join had fought bravely and with distinction in the War of Independence. But actually (I did my own on-line research) he had been pressed into service at gunpoint and later hanged as a horse thief.

But who’s quibbling?

I took a deep breath. “I know you’re busy, but this is important. You know I don’t just drop by without a reason.”

Peggy Sue glanced again, sharply this time. “I’ve noticed. What is it?”

“It’s Connie.”

Her eyes rolled. “Why can’t you two just peacefully coexist?”

“Because she broke the non-proliferation treaty and went nuclear.”

My lovely sister sighed. “Must
everything
be a major melodrama with you?”

“You decide if I’m exaggerating. Connie sent Mother an anonymous letter, so now Mother knows everything.”

Peggy Sue set down a dish almost hard enough to break; hard enough to clatter on that perfect counter. Her expression was stricken.

I went on. “Then we went cheerfully to the clock repair shop, where Connie happened to show up and Mother attacked her …”

“What?”

“… and Mr. Timmons had to break it up and Connie told him to call the police but he said all he saw was Connie tripping on her own big feet, and that made her madder, naturally, and now she’s going to sue our behinds.
What?
You said make it quick.”

Sis was glaring, her brown eyes flashing. Then, in a rare show of temper, the ice queen whapped her dish towel against the island counter.

“You bring news like
this,”
she fumed, “and make a joke out of it?”

I shrugged. “We laugh so as not to cry. But either way, the cat is
well
out of the bag, and we had all better prepare for the kind of storm that comes down very, very brown.”

The anger evaporated from her face, and so did the blood. “But … but I thought this had gone
away.”
It was a whine.“And Connie was so
nice
to me at bridge club the other day, and then again at …”

I snorted. “Don’t you get it? That nutzoid bitch is toying with you.”

“I don’t like that kind of language.”

“What—nutzoid? Peggy Sue—Connie will
never
give up. And if Mother received a letter, you can bet Senator Clark got one too.”

A perfectly manicured hand flew like a wounded bird and perched at my sister’s pretty mouth. “Oh, God …” Her porcelain face somehow turned even whiter, as she leaned against the counter. “Dear God …”

“I take it you haven’t told Bob and Ashley about us and Senator Clark yet. Coming in, I saw them both and nothing in their behavior indicated I was anything to them but plain old preggers Auntie.”

She shook her head, the arcs of her auburn pageboy swinging against her pale cheeks.

“Sis? You okay?”

Suddenly she straightened, her troubled eyes struggling to find hope. “Maybe … maybe
I
can talk to Connie— you know … convince her to stop. Before it’s too late.”

“It
is
too late,” I said flatly. “You and I need to come out of the mother/daughter closet. Otherwise, you stand to be emotionally blackmailed for the rest of your life. Time to come clean.”

“But Bob … and Ashley …”

“Those two love you beyond reason. They would stand by you if you
murdered
that cow, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

Peggy Sue looked crushed, her eyes filling with tears.

I went to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Sis … why don’t
I
pay a visit to the Wicked Witch of the Midwest tomorrow morning, and talk to her?”

“What about the restraining order?”

“That will give her the upper hand, and she’ll love it. Let me at least see if she’s planning a lawsuit against

Mother. I will tell her we’ll forget all about the poisoned pen letters if she’ll forget about Mother pushing her. Then you can talk to her, and maybe reason with her.”

Sis nodded numbly.

“In the meantime, you’d better fill Bob in….” I turned to leave, then looked back. “By the way … what ever did you do to Connie to deserve this kind of treatment?”

“Nothing! Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like something.”

She shrugged. “You may find this hard to believe, but Connie was really very beautiful in high school. She was a cheerleader, and part of the Homecoming Queen court.”

“When you were Homecoming Queen, you mean.”

“Yes. I didn’t really get serious with Bob till college, but, uh … I dated him in high school for several months, my junior year.”

“Why is that important?”

“It isn’t.” Peggy Sue’s smile was brittle, like very thin ice. “I sort of … stole Bob away from her. But who carries around that kind of high-school baggage into adulthood?”