Tiger Lillie (24 page)

21

Lillie

So, picture those
E! Entertainment
shows about celebrity weddings and you’ve got the picture. I realized while sitting at the reception with Gordon, watching the dancing, watching Miss Mildred and The Star Spangled Jammers, watching my team do a bang-up job, that our little business is capable of great things. So cool. And I felt proud and capable of almost anything.

Cristoff runs up to me and hands me his cell phone. “Call for you.”

“What?” I look in my bag and fish out my own phone. Out of juice. Figures. I can’t believe I forgot to charge it. Wait, yes I can. “Who is it?”

“Your dad.”

I take the phone. “Daddy?”

“Oh, Lil. You’ve got to get home right away.”

“Why?”

“Someone has set fire to the house.”

Dear Lord.

“Are you and Mom all right?”

“We’re fine. They contained it to our house. It’s almost out now.”

“I’ll be right there.” My stomach thickens and I press the Off button. Dear, sweet Lord. “I’ve got to go.”

Gordon says, “What’s wrong?”

“The house. Somebody torched it. Guess who?”

“I’m going with you.”

“But it’s your brother’s wedding.”

“Yes, and it’s over. This is going to get scary here in a little while. Trust me.”

Cristoff grabs my hand. “You going to be okay?”

“Cristoff, it’s your home too.”

“I have nothing, Lillie. You know that.”

“But—”

“Just go, girlfriend! And don’t worry about a thing, sweetie. It’s all under control.”

Boy, do I wish that was the truth.

The neighbors turned out in force, comforting my parents, running toward me as I get out of the car.

“It was definitely arson.” Mom hugs me. “Started around back. The gas can is still there. Everyone’s on their way.” Meaning my aunts and uncles and, well, everybody. Coming when we need them. Everyone but Tacy.

I look on the smoking remains of this life, Grandma Erzsèbet’s life.

“I’m sorry, Lil,” Daddy says.

And we stand together, watching it.

“Come around back, sweet pea.” Mom weaves her arm through mine. “I’ve got something to show you.”

It’s all gone now. All soggy and cold. A skeleton of a house.

We walk around the block and up the alleyway. And there it stands by the back gate, still thriving, Grandma’s rhododendron bush. “See here? All wasn’t lost.”

And the sight of that ugly old bush becomes my undoing and I weep in my mother’s arms. We weep together. Too many tears nowadays.

Minutes later I pull back. “I’m so glad you and Daddy are okay. What happened?”

“We smelled the smoke. We were sitting at the kitchen table and I saw flames leaping up outside. I grabbed the phone and called 911 as I led your father outside.”

“All his books. His new novel.”

“All gone.”

“What are we going to do, Mom?”

She smiles. “Oh, Lillie. I’ve lived through far worse.”

Gordon’s apologizing all over the place for the state of the bedrooms. The only finished one, which he’s been using until I move in, he gives to Daddy and Mom. “I’ll hire workmen,” he tells me after I kiss my parents good night. “It’ll get some of these rooms in shape more quickly.”

“There’s no need, Gordon, really. Man, I hate to put you out like this.”

“You’re not. I’m here for the good and bad. And really, this was going to happen in a month, wasn’t it?”

“Well, they were just planning on living at the row house.”

“For how long? Imagine it, Lillie, the walks they’ll take, the food Philly will cook for them. They deserve a nice, easy life now.”

“The Lord knows you’re right.”

He kisses my cheek. “Right. Now, let’s get you settled.”

Philly comes up the back steps, arms full of sheets and towels. “Lucky I brought some extra sets with me.”

“I’ll do some shopping tomorrow,” Gordon says.

“Cristoff and Pleasance will help,” I say. I feel like a stuffed doll.

“What rooms?” Philly asks.

“Put Lillie at the end of the hall. It’s the only other one with a bed. I’ll sleep on my couch up in the studio.”

Of course I protest.

Philly jerks her head toward Gordon. “He sleeps up there four nights out of five anyway, Lillie.”

Gordon nods in agreement. “It’s true.”

I am convinced. I follow.

“You can’t keep a secret from that woman, can you?” he asks.

“Nope.”

We enter the bedroom. It is dismal and pink and there are already signs of renovation work being done to the plaster.

Philly begins to make up the bed. “I know you’re tired. But you won’t sleep. I’ve poured some milk into mugs and they just need a zap in the microwave. Give me some time to get this room in some sort of shape.”

We obey and soon sit at a huge wooden table in the kitchen, mugs of heated milk warming our hands.

“Your dad’s taking things really well,” Gordon says.

“I know. He’s a priest, remember? They do well at times like this.”

“You’re lucky to have the parents you do.”

“I know. They’re feeling pretty impotent right now though, I’m sure.”

“Do they suspect Rawlins too?”

“I think so. Daddy was pressing the investigator pretty hard.”

“Good.”

“You got a phone?”

He leans the chair back and grabs one off the counter. “Here.”

I dial Tacy’s number. I could care less that it’s now one thirty in the morning. Rawlins answers, of course.

“How could you?” I say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lillian.”

“Bull. You’re an evil man. Evil, Rawlins. You and that pastor of yours.”

“Good night.”

The line goes dead.

I dial back, and it rings and rings.

He picks it up and hangs up right away.

I call back. Again and again until finally the rings keep going. And I’m sure he’s unplugged the phone.

“Do you think Tacy’s safe, Gordon? Have I put her life in jeopardy?”

He only shakes his head and takes my hand.

I am sick.

22

Lillie

Well, as they say, when it rains it pours. Sorry, I’m beyond a tricky turn of phrase right now. The detective Gordon hired to find Teddy has called. I like this guy, Nathan Dovey. He’s a black man dressed like a Southern gentleman. Specializes in missing persons. We sit before him now in Gordon’s kitchen. He found a record of Teddy’s death in Ohio. Murdered. Not long after graduation.

“I’m sorry if the news causes you pain.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“True. But I’m usually such a bearer of ill tidings.”

“Does Mrs. Gillie know?”

He nods.

Mrs. Gillie moved away years ago. I wish I might have been with her when she heard the news.

“How did he get all the way to Ohio?”

“They’re not sure. I sent his picture around and somebody from the sheriff’s office up there in the town of Delaware recognized it.”

“After all these years?” Gordon asks.

“Yep. Apparently he’s a man who never forgets a face.”

Teddy’s dead.

Teddy’s dead.

Teddy’s dead.

Teddy’s dead.

I want to ask him about the details of Teddy’s murder. But I can’t. I can’t tote that much weight around now. And once I pick up the truth in that bag, I’ll never be able to put it down again.

No. It won’t change matters at all. And maybe Teddy wouldn’t want me to know. Maybe he’d wish to keep the details from tainting my memory of him.

Gordon says, “Thanks, Dovey. It’s good to finally know. Right, Lillie?” His apprehension screams at me. Oh, Gordon.

“Yes. Thank you.” I turn to Gordon and lay my hand on his shoulder.

The detective slides his small, light-blue, spiral-bound notepad into his breast pocket. “If you ever need me again, you know where to call.” He takes his leave after some handshaking.

“Well?” I say to Gordon.

“I should be asking you that.”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

He embraces me. “Are you at least relieved to know?”

“I guess so. But that makes me feel very selfish.”

Mom and Dad cry with me that night. Tacy should know this, but it’s impossible. We talk about our Teddy long after our mugs of milk are empty.

“Do you have Mrs. Gillie’s number, Mom?”

“My book was lost in the fire.”

“I’ll find out how to reach her.”

Gordon knocks on my door later to see if I’m okay. We sit down at the foot of the bed. “I am. I’ve been thinking, Gordon. And I’m glad I fell in love with you before I knew anything. I’m glad you weren’t a tonic. I’m glad you weren’t ‘the next best thing.’”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re not, you know. You’re
the
thing. The only thing. But you know, I’m thankful you were around when I found out the truth.”

“Let’s take a walk,” he says.

“I’ll get out of my pajamas.”

“Don’t bother, love.”

He ushers me down to the water. My fingers find his and we watch in silence as the circle moon wings into the darkened sky, tinting the river gold and peaceful.

Tacy

I could hardly believe I pulled if off. Rawlins showed me the letter from Lillie, asking me to come to her wedding, to be her honor attendant. She apologized for the rush and made copious promises to appease Rawlins. I could tell by her words that she had to muster some fortitude to send it. Not to mention that it was so late. Lillie was always so punctual.

It killed me to hear her supplicate herself before Rawlins, because I knew it killed her to do it. Lillie was always so proud.

And after that scene when she came to the house in the middle of the night, doing Lord knows what, I knew she’d do whatever it took to protect me and Hannah. And I was right.

I see Lillie now, crawling to the Rover as Rawlins continues to scream. Somehow, I can actually smell something burning.

Rawlins refused to let me take part in the wedding. I starved myself for a week to change his mind. It’s really true—you can’t make a person eat. He actually was forced to use the Heimlich maneuver when he tried to shove food down my throat. That man was so predictable.

Lillie

So, obviously, my wedding plans are totally and unapologetically boring compared to most of the weddings around this place. This miffed the gaggle at first, but after Stan’s wedding, they eventually confessed relief to simply glide on through.

And I don’t blame them. If the setup on the Remington affair was akin to hiking Pikes Peak, the tear down and cleanup was nothing short of scaling Mount Everest. Cristoff reported 250 bags of trash. Can you believe that? And three-quarters of the guests were probably staunch environmentalists. I’d like to know how much energy is used to produce, distribute, and project just one movie? And does the world really
need
movies? We went along for millennia without them. Talk about “the pan calling the skillet burned,” as my Aunt Babi used to say before Mom finally corrected her.

Jaime Pickerson calls me just before a Tuesday morning breakfast meeting. “Still friends with me, Lil?” Her raspy voice tickles my ear.

“Hey, you paid your bill. I’ve got no quarrel.”

“I always clean up after myself.”

“How are you and Brian? It’s been over six months.”

“Separated.”

Oh man! Our first marital failure. Wait, we didn’t actually
do
the wedding, did we? That’s a relief. “I am so sorry to hear that.”

“Well, whatever, you know. I always suspected I wasn’t really the marrying type. I’ll be fine.”

“You always are.” It’s time to let the conversation drop right there. I don’t know Jaime well enough to dive with her into her well of pain. Then again, maybe there isn’t one. “Hey, I loved what you said to that population explosion guy the other day!”

Her laughter grates across her vocal cords. “It’s the truth! If everybody who was worried about it made the personal sacrifice—
blam!
—we’d be fine!”

“Talk about putting your money where your mouth is.”

“Exactly. You going to be out at the shooting range?”

“I should go up, but I’m getting married soon.”

“No stuff!”

Why should that be so surprising? “Nope. Small affair by the water.”

“Cool. Well, the news is almost done and my board is lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Jaime’s not really creative in her imagery.

“Thanks for the call.”

“Good luck on your marriage.”

“Thanks.”

Good luck? Luck? Oh, sheesh, no wonder they’re separated!

Gert shadows the doorway. “Lillie, dear, your eggs are getting cold.”

“Be right there, Gert.”

“Okay, first order of agenda is the Newton wedding.” I push my plate of bacon and eggs forward. Gert cooked today as Peach has an appointment with the ophthalmologist regarding his upcoming cataract surgery. “Who wants to go first?”

Pleasance raises a hand, then begins to fill us in on the gowns, Renaissance, and the men’s doublets. Thirty minutes later we’re onto the Martins and then the Graveses, the Kalines, and the Neubauers.

I’m telling you, business booms, booms, booms!

Finally, “Now the Gordon Remington wedding.”

“Yeah boy,” Pleasance says. “This is a piece of cake. Your gown is almost finished, Lillie Pad. I’ll mark the hem today if you don’t mind.”

“And your gown, Pleasance?”

“Honey, I had that done a week after you asked and the color was decided.”

That would lead one to believe a decision existed. I told her to pick whatever color she wanted. She chose pale green. It’s slim and svelte and perfect for her.

For some reason, Rawlins, upon conversing with Daddy on the phone, said that Tacy could be in the wedding, marriage being “ordained by God and pleasing to Him.” We didn’t want to go crawling to him, but we did it for Tacy, hoping he’d view the gesture as a peace offering.

Now, I agree with him about marriage and am thankful he can at least see the importance of this day to the family, but I hate it when he does the right thing for the right reason. In three days, I’ll see my sister at the rehearsal dinner. I can’t wait. Her gown is pale pink. They sent her measurements through the mail.

“The tuxes?” I ask her.

“All ordered and ready for pickup.” Needless to say, there will be many more groomsmen than bridesmaids. Stan and Fitz, an artist friend named Brig, and, because Cristoff would make a frightening maid of honor, he’ll line up with Gordon and the guys. It was Gordon’s idea. I swear that man can read my thoughts even before they’ve arrived in my brain.

“Girlfriend,” Cristoff says, “they are fabulous.”

The tuxes are actually kilts accompanied by those beautiful short jackets decorated with silver buttons. I don’t know what they’re called. It’s not my department. But Gordon told me his mother’s family hails from Scotland, so there you go. Works for me.

Gert, filling in for Peach, picks her teeth with a folded, empty packet of Sweet’n Low. “The wedding breakfast will be just perfect. Scones and cream and jam and casseroles like you have never seen before, and Maryland food, too: sautéed crab and Smithfield ham, crab cakes and your favorite, Lillie, fried chicken.”

I love fried chicken. I really do. My favorite dinner consists of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits. I read once this is Liz Taylor’s favorite meal too. I can safely say, other than breathing and your basic bodily functions, this is the only thing the two of us have in common. Well, and maybe the propensity to gain weight. The poor woman must die when she views old photos of herself. At least, I’ve always been chubby.

Cristoff reports on the flowers, lots of lilies and roses and my mother’s favorite, the gardenia.

What a gang!

“So it looks like everything is set then?”

Pleasance waves a hand. “Honey, we are more than good to go. And we’ve hired enough staff so we can enjoy ourselves, be part of the wedding party. That sure will be weird.”

Cristoff nods. “Tell me about it, girlfriend.”

Cristoff and Pleasance sure have been getting along great lately. This pleases me. Cristoff has no need for a woman, and Pleasance doesn’t want a man. Both need a new best friend.