“Okay, okay.” I had that dumb feeling in my stomach about not getting over to see Granny more often and also thinking mean thoughts about Uncle Paulie’s weirdness, so I walked into the bathroom and stuck my hands into the cold gray water. I took out the first black sock and wrung it and hung it on this wooden drying stick Granny had in the tub. Then I reached down into the water again and pulled out another, and when I did I happened to get a look at myself in the mirror above the sink. My nose was sunburned and my hair had gotten almost as white as Granny’s. I looked a little older, I thought. Eddie beeped again, this one so long that it got into my head and that was all I could hear, so I hurried and squeezed the water out of the next sock and turned to hang it up on the . . . Oh my God. Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph! It was a pink-and-green argyle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Uncle Paulie is not a murderer and a molester,” Troo said, trying not to let her poofy lips move. She’d seen this ventriloquist on
The Perry Como Show
and had changed her mind about working up at The Milky Way. Now when she grew up Troo wanted to be either Edgar Bergen or Sal Mineo. Either or. But with a leaning toward Edgar Bergen since Troo said that all that drumming might give you a headache and it would be real funny to be able to throw your voice like that. You could get some people in trouble if you could do that.
We were sitting on these plastic chairs with metal legs over in the waiting area. Nell and Eddie were talking to the desk lady in the lobby of St. Joe’s. Troo had her Nell tattletale list rolled up in her hand.
“Big deal if Uncle Paulie has some of those socks,” Troo said. “Lots of people have pink-and-green argyles. Willie had some on last week. And Johnny Fazio had some on at supper last night. Even Bobby at the playground wears ’em.”
“Yeah, but . . . ,” I tried to say.
“I think the murderer is . . .” Troo swiveled her head around to make sure nobody had snuck up on her, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that even if they did, they probably wouldn’t be able to understand a darn thing she was saying. I sure couldn’t. “I think it’s Reese Latour. It’s just bubbling inside him, trying to get out. Reese is evil, Sal. Real honest to devil evil.” She ran her hands down her arms, trying to warm up her goose pimples. “Did I tell you that he pulled Fast Susie’s bikini top down last week when she was suntanning in the backyard?”
I shook my head.
She shivered. “Reese could murder and molest with his eyes closed.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll just see,” I said quietly, because Nell and Eddie were coming back and I didn’t want to make too big a deal out of it because now I was
pretty
sure that Rasmussen was not the guilty party and I had been
so
sure he was. So I figured if I
might
be wrong about Rasmussen, I
might
be wrong about Uncle Paulie. I didn’t want to get everybody all riled up. Especially since Troo was right about Reese Latour. If you opened him up and looked inside, his heart would not be red and bursting with love. It would be rotting maggot hateful black. Reese would murder and molest in a breeze. I hoped Troo was right. Everybody would be a lot better off if Reese went to jail. Especially poor Artie, who wouldn’t have to listen to Reese telling people that he was a harelip, like they couldn’t see that for themselves. And even worse than that was the way Reese treated Wendy and called her the idiot and made fun of the way she talked. And that was not even taking into account the way Reese always looked at Troo, like he had the hots for her . . . it gave me the honest-to-God skin-crawling creeps. Yeah, Reese Latour could definitely be the murderer and molester.
“Okay, we’re gonna meet Dr. Sullivan upstairs,” Nell called over to us from the information desk.
We got in the elevator and Nell pressed the number three button. She looked so grown-up in her A-line dress and made-up face. Eddie had gotten fancy for the funeral, too. He had on a checkered sports coat that was way too big for him and a tie with a Chevy car on it, but he didn’t stink of gas like he usually did. Instead he stunk of English Leather. And then the elevator doors slid open, and for a second I was afraid to get out. This was the floor that Daddy and Troo had been on after the crash. I remembered the picture of Jesus and his bleeding heart that was hanging on the wall outside the elevator. Troo did too, because she picked up my hand and squeezed it hard.
There was the
tock tock tock
of Nell’s squash heels going down the hall, and that medicine smell, and the floor so shiny, and the sound of those nurses’ thick white shoes. We turned into a room called a solarium that had magazines on tables and pictures of flowers on the walls. Sitting over by the big window was Mother in a wheelchair. I knew it was Mother because of her hair, but that’s the only way I would’ve been able to tell because she looked skinnier than Mary Lane, which I woulda thought was humanly impossible. Not tan or strong at all. And something else seemed really different about her, not just the way she looked because she’d been sick.
“O’Malley sisters,” Mother said real softly. She had on a pink robe that I’d never seen before and slippers with little pink pom-poms on them and her hair was tied back with a shiny pink ribbon. Dr. Sullivan was standing next to her, like he was protecting a newborn chicken.
Troo said, “Hi, Mother,” but you could tell she was fantastically nervous by how hard she was licking her lips. “Nell did not take good care of me and Sally. I got a list I wanna show you.”
Mother held her arms out to us and I didn’t want to go into them because she looked so bony, but then I did and so did Troo. I couldn’t even talk, tell her how glad I was that she hadn’t died, that was how hard I was crying. Of course, Troo didn’t cry. Not one teardrop.
“Doesn’t she look in the pink?” Dr. Sullivan laughed at his joke and I thought it was a pretty good one considering how Mother was decked out. “Just terrific!”
Dr. Sullivan needed new peepers because Mother definitely looked a long way off from terrific, but I was just so glad to have her back that I hugged the doctor around his fat stomach, which was a lot harder than it looked.
“Why, thank you, Sally,” the doctor said. (I’m sorry to have to say this, but his breath had not improved.) “How is that imagination of yours coming along?”
“Fine, Dr. Sullivan. Just fine.” I really wished he had not brought that up in front of Mother. I was sort of mad now that I’d given him that hug.
He looked down at his watch that he kept hidden in his pocket on a chain and then out the solarium windows. Clouds that looked like fists had started to roll in. “It’s going to rain again,” he said. “Can’t remember a summer we’ve had so much rain.” Then he clapped his hands. “Well, I think that’s quite enough excitement for one day. Let’s get Helen back to bed. That was a close call, a very close call, girls. When your mother comes home, you’re going to have to take very good care of her. Doctor’s orders.” And then he disappeared out the solarium door doing that penguin walk.
Nell put her hands on the back of the wheelchair and began to push, but Mother held up her hand to stop and said in a weak voice, “Nell, take Troo downstairs. I need to talk to Sally in private for a minute.”
“Okay, but not too long,” Nell scolded. “You heard what the doctor said.” She kissed Mother on the head and said in a cute little voice, “I’m almost a hairdresser. When you come home I can wash and set your hair for you.”
“That would be nice.” Mother patted at her hair because she was sorta proud about it and had to know that it looked a little ratty. “Go on now, Nell.”
“But what about my list?” Troo whined.
Mother said, “Give it to me, Troo. I’ll look at it later.” Troo handed her the tattle list, which was pretty ripped and dirty from all the use it was getting, then she gave me a jealousy look and shook Mother’s hand good-bye, which was kinda funny.
Eddie stood up from the checkered couch that looked so much like his jacket that I forgot for a second he was even there. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Gustafson.” That was Hall’s last name. Maybe Mother could change it back again to O’Malley now that Hall was going to the slammer.
“It’s all right if you call me Mother.” Helen put her hand on Nell’s tummy. “After all, we’re going to be family soon, Eddie.” Nell’s smile put sun back into the solarium. Eddie just shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the shiny floor and grinned.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Nell said, trying to pick up Troo’s hand. Troo yanked it out, gave me one more jealousy look and then turned on her heel in a huff. Troo really couldn’t stand coming in second place. A minute later Nell was yelling, “Troo O’Malley, you get your heinie back here,” from down the hall, and I’d just bet Troo was givin’ her the finger. Another new thing she learned from Fast Susie.
Mother and me were alone and I heard some thunder. “Sally, come closer.” I had been standing a little ways away from her so I could pay attention to the details, like you do when you want to get a really good look at something. I sat down in a brown chair that had a plastic cover over it, right across from Mother.
“I have something to tell you,” she said. Her eyes were sorta dashing around like the minnows in the cold lake near dead Gramma’s house. That was a detail I would never miss because I had never seen Mother nervous before. It was probably because she was in the hospital, which could make anybody jittery. My own stomach felt like I had swallowed a handful of those Mexican jumping beans they just got in up at Kenfield’s Five and Dime. I grabbed on to the arms of the chair and got prepared for Mother to give me a good talking-to about my imagination. Somebody musta told her that I was having a hard time with it. I was in for it now.
“I should’ve told you this a long time ago.” Mother sighed one of those big sighs she always did. “And I’m still not sure the timing is right.”
It was not like Mother to be not sure. She was always sure in a mad kind of way.
She gave me that sad-eyed look that she gave me when she thought I wasn’t looking and then said, “Sometimes women get lonely when their husbands are away.”
Mother looked so breakable, it made me feel protective of her like I did with Troo. I needed to make her feel stronger right away, so I announced nice and loud, “Daddy told me to tell you that he forgives you.”
She turned her head my way. “What did you just say?”
“Right before Daddy died he told me to tell you that he forgives you and I’m sorry I haven’t told you before this, but like you always say, timing is everything and I just couldn’t find the time.” I hunched up in my shoulders and sunk down farther into the brown chair, getting ready for her to yell at me. I figured out too late that was a bad idea, telling her Daddy forgave her, because she was not smiling or acting at all like this was good news. In fact, Mother did the most amazing thing. I had heard it at night, but I had never seen it. She started to cry. And it wasn’t just a little sobbing . . . it was a great big gully washer. Right into her hands. The wedding ring that Hall had given her was gone, but there was a little green mark on her finger where it used to be.
I placed my hands on her knees, which felt like two tennis balls, and just said, “Shhh . . . shhh . . . shhh.”
Mother cried for a long, long time, her tears sliding down all over her face. But finally, she sort of sputtered out,
“Thank you for telling me. That makes all the difference in the world.” I was so relieved she wasn’t gonna start hollering at me that I dug around in my pocket and found one of Troo’s Kleenex carnation flowers and gave it to her.
“I’ve got a secret, too. This might be a big shock to you, Sal. A big shock. So be prepared.” The clouds had let loose and the rain was attacking the windows and dying in squig gly lines. “I’m going to tell you why Officer Rasmussen has a picture of you in his wallet.”
Oh no! Now I was going to have to tell her my suspicions about Rasmussen and she had already made these plans that we would go live with him and it was going to ruin everything when I told her I still thought, not as much as before, but it was still a very good possibility, that Rasmussen, her high school friend, had turned into a murderer and a molester.
She grabbed for my hands like I was an edge of a cliff she was falling off and said, “Dave Rasmussen is your father.”
I waited for her to say something else, but she was just looking at me with her blue crater eyes and white, white face. “Oh, Mother, that’s silly.” I laughed even though I didn’t think it was a very funny joke.
She opened her eyes wider and gave me the look where her mouth goes into a straight line. Her deadly serious look.
“Mother?” I got really afraid then and slid off that plastic-covered chair.
“Sally Elizabeth . . .”
Oh my Sky King. I need you!
Mother said real fast now, her words chasing each other out of her mouth, “I’m so sorry. I should have told you a long time ago . . . but for the longest time I wasn’t even sure myself. It wasn’t until you got a little older and . . . started to look so much like Dave . . . you have green eyes . . . but so did your aunt Faye . . . but then your blonde hair and dimples and . . . your daddy suspected . . . he didn’t know for sure but . . .” She took my hands and pulled me back down into the chair and said in a whisper like it hurt her so bad to talk, “Paulie must’ve told Donny on the way home from the baseball game, the day of the crash . . . he must’ve . . .”
I was not Daddy’s gal Sal
.
I was Rasmussen’s gal Sal.
“That doesn’t change how much Daddy loved you.” Mother dabbed at her eyes with Troo’s carnation.
Rasmussen’s gal Sal. With green eyes
.
Which were rare, Mother had always told me
.
Rasmussen had green eyes? Like mine?
“When Daddy was in the air force, Officer Rasmussen and I . . . well . . .” Mother gave me a sorry smile. “We just fell in love again. Do you know what that means?”