Larkin's Landing_A Tombora Springs Mystery Read online
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“I do count you as a friend and trust me, I tell you far more than anyone in my family. They are great people, but are not as understanding as you are.” Fee picked out a darker shade of polish than normal; I think it had to do with her dark thoughts. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain she was going through. I lost my mother when I was twenty, but we had grown apart. I have no idea where my father is and the only other family I have is my older brother, Mel, who lives in Las Vegas and makes a living on the streets. I have always tried to stay in touch with him, but he chose a completely different lifestyle—his was generally on the wrong side of the law.
After a couple more appointments, I had the rest of the day off and spent most of the evening soaking in a hot tub with a book I began reading before Christmas, which was nearly two months past. I heard the laptop make a noise and found my robe quickly while I tracked soapy water out to the kitchen. When I clicked on the Skype link, Raine’s rugged, handsome face came through.
“Hi, sweetheart! Happy Valentine’s day!” Raine had a huge smile on his face and held a slightly wilted pink flower.
“Oh, Raine, is that for me? It’s beautiful! I forgot all about Valentine’s day. I’m surprised your parents let me take the night off, I’m sure they must be busy.” Vince wasn’t much help anymore. He ran the kitchen but was usually drunk before they finished serving food so they couldn’t count on him to help with the cooking if they got behind. Marge wasn’t any help to anyone. She became flustered with more than one customer so they usually kept her out of the way when they were busy.
“It’s the best I could do at the BX, baby. They were picked over already, but I’ll get you something extra special when I get home. Do you have something you want to show me, lover? What’s under that robe you have on?” I always felt self-conscious disrobing in front of the computer, but Raine had no such problem. He just whips it out and starts in. Watching him does get me a bit warm and I must admit to feeling some heat between my legs. I take the laptop to the next room so I can sit down and watch him and then I lean over the screen, and that always brings out moans from him.
“Ohhh, baby, you’re so beautiful!” That never gets old—the way he says it makes me feel the words, even though all he sees are my breasts.
It’s not nearly as satisfying as having him next to me, but much better than not seeing him at all. I can hear all kinds of noise coming from the bar below so once we sign off, I decide I better make my way downstairs and see if they need any help. Lately, Vince has spent a lot of time studying my chest so I’ve been trying to camouflage what I can. Unfortunately, God blessed me with more than my share which is not easy to minimize, but I try to wear clothes that make it difficult for him to visualize what is underneath.
Once I make my way down to the bar, I see that Vince is in rare form. He is arguing with not only one of our best customers, but he has also pissed off the bartender. Bonnie is busy waiting on tables. There are about seven tables that are in various stages of being served food and drink.
“Bonnie, what do you need help with?” Bonnie stopped and filled me in on what the back three tables needed. I grabbed an apron and started in. Most of the tables were made up of couples—I imagine they were out for Valentine’s day. There were also about ten people at the bar, and most were adding their voices to Vince’s loud argument. I could tell the couples seated at the tables were not comfortable. The tension and yelling at the bar did nothing toward creating a romantic ambiance.
Once most of the couples received their food and champagne, Vince started to calm down. I noticed that he was eyeing Bonnie as she walked by. He grabbed a half-full bottle of wine from the shelf behind the bar and went toward his office. A couple of minutes later, I noticed Bonnie gave slips out to her remaining tables and went to Vince’s office. For some reason I felt like I should have tried to stop her, but who was I to make her life choices? I just had sex using a laptop, was I any better?
Alan was busy tending bar, and I finished clearing the empty tables. About an hour and a half later, Vince came out of his office and told us we could leave, that he would close the bar. There were only two men left at the bar, so I thought he could handle it, even though it was unusual for him to offer. Something else unusual was that I hadn’t seen Bonnie come back out.
“Have you seen Bonnie? I was going to split these tips with her.” I knew that Bonnie would want some of my tips because she had initially waited on the tables.
“Bonnie went home sick earlier. She said you could have the tips.” Vince turned and walked behind the bar and started to wash the glasses. I thought that it was very strange that Bonnie hadn’t come out to tell me herself, but made my way back upstairs and went to bed.
Earlier, I had decided that since I had the following day off, I was going to the funeral home for Fee. I knew her family would surround her, but I still wanted her to know that I was there for support if she needed it. I had the morning all to myself, and thought about giving Bonnie a call, but decided against it. She would come to work later, and I could talk to her then.
Chapter Three
Fee
The immediate family was to meet an hour earlier than the actual showing. What I considered immediate family was Rich and myself, but according to my family, they were all immediate. The room was already full before Mark could walk us up to look at our little girl. He would have liked privacy to make sure there wasn’t anything we would like changed. As I looked over our Lizzie, I knew that it really didn’t matter at all. Our baby was gone and this was just the shell she previously resided in. Nothing more.
My sister, Marsha, was the first with suggestions, though. She declared that Lizzie’s skin tone was too dark and didn’t it seem like her bangs were crooked? I wanted to scream at her to leave it alone, but I noticed my mother take her aside—hopefully, she would now keep her comments to herself. At this point, I knew my mother would be much more tactful than I could be. My emotions were like a roller coaster, one minute on the verge of despair and the next, totally numb to the world. Thus far, I was able to keep my mouth shut when I truly wanted to scream at all of them.
My brother Dave’s wife, April, was by far the closest to me. She was the one that took me in hand and found clothes suitable for the funeral of a loved one. I have many dresses, but she looked through them and declared that a trip to the mall was in order. The thought of taking a two-hour road-trip when there was already so much to do scared me, but at the same time, I truly wanted to go, just to be away from the rest of them.
When I quietly asked April to take just me, she looked at me with understanding. She knew I needed to be away from the rest of my family. I often wondered how she could fit into such a large family when she was an only child, but she seemed to do better than me, in my attempt to tread my way through those treacherous waters.
We managed to come up with a nicely tailored skirt and jacket for the visitation and a long black dress with red trim and buttons for the funeral. I made sure Mark knew that all of his preparations were satisfactory, no matter what anyone else said. Just as I finished whispering to Mark, my father took the stage. He wanted everyone to bow their heads in prayer to our glorious Lord, and as the patriarch of the family, his wishes were always heeded.
By the time he finished his long-winded prayer, I realized where Marsha had inherited some of her more fanatical ideas. I believe in God, don’t get me wrong, but when they start going off on tangents and sub-tangents, I have to wonder if God is truly guiding their tongues or if it’s just a hint of their own madness. Just as soon as my father finished, my oldest brother, Karl, must have thought we were going to take turns and started his plea to our Lord to guide his newest angel. I looked to my next brother, Dave, and with a look dared him to start up. I just wanted it all to end. Dave did not start, but Marsha must have decided it was time to bring up all her treasured memories.
Beginning at birth, she described what she thought of Elizabeth Mary Siddons. Marsha had just graduated
high school when Lizzie was born and thought it was her duty to stay with me the first few weeks of Lizzie’s life. I just wanted Lizzie to myself—I know it was selfish, but I was the one that carried her around with me for nine months, and I wanted to bond with my beautiful daughter without competition. Marsha thought she was doing a great deed by staying close. Once again, I think it was my mother that finally talked her into leaving us alone. But she always took full credit for taking charge of Lizzie while I still suffered the effects of childbirth.
Now listening to her rendition, she made it sound like if it weren’t for her, Lizzie never would have made it through her first month of life. At the end of her sad story, Marsha announced her own pregnancy. She stated that her child would fill the emptiness in her heart caused by Lizzie’s passing. Was this supposed to make me feel better?
They all gathered around Marsha saying what a wonderful person she was and how her baby would certainly fill the void. I never cuss, anyone that knows me at all will verify this, but now I say, ‘Bullshit! What a bunch of bullshit. Just how in the hell is her baby going to fill my void?’ As I think this, I ask God for forgiveness for my pettiness, I also ask for patience and understanding. Maybe God took Lizzie because I’m such a terrible person. Could it be my fault? No, God doesn’t work that way. If that were true, consider all the people that deny His very existence. No, my God loves me, and I believe He wants me to be happy, I just don’t know how that will ever be possible. I look up at Rich and see that he is trying to come up with some reasons also.
Mark came back up front to tell us that the visitation was about to begin and that there were already many people waiting in the lobby. I knew my place was up near the casket next to Rich where we could greet all the mourners, and they could tell us how sorry they are for our loss. It was going to be a very long couple of hours. Fortunately, Rich had declared that two hours was plenty for visitation and then we would have a prayer vigil immediately following the visitation.
I lost track of all the sympathetic faces that flowed by, and I was sure that some of them I didn’t even know. Rich introduced a few as they passed. I hadn’t spent very much time at the hardware store since Lizzie became sick and many of them were either new customers or new salespeople. Either way, I was not going to remember a single one of them.
About halfway through, Rich stiffened next to me and when I looked up, he was watching Tara come over. She didn’t stop by Rich but came to me, and we shared a long hug. Tara was so different from me in every way, but I had always felt a connection to her. She was selfless and sincere—virtues that were lacking in many others close to me. She certainly stood out in this gathering. Tara was just a little shorter than I, probably about five-foot-four. She had dyed platinum blond hair cut to shoulder length with pink and purple highlights. I thought the hair suited her personality—bright and spirited, with a figure that could stop traffic. I truly believe that she has no clue that she has this sort of effect on people.
“Thank you so much for coming.” I lowered my voice so Rich wouldn’t hear. “I set the stuffed lion in with Lizzie, she loved it so.” I had tears in my eyes, and I saw nothing but compassion in Tara’s.
“Oh, honey. That’s wonderful. I’m sure they’ve both grown wings.” Tara seemed to be trying very hard to choke down her tears. “I’m not going to stay for the vigil, I have to work at the resort, but if you need anything at all, please let me know.”
“I will do that.” Tara kept walking and left the room, and I couldn’t help but notice the disapproving looks from my family. Even Rich looked at me like I had done something wrong.
“Isn’t she the one that runs with that Larkin boy? How do you know someone like that?” Rich’s voice was laced with distaste.
“Tara has been a great friend to me. She is engaged to Raine Larkin, who enlisted in the Air Force and is stationed in Turkey. I think it’s noble that he is off defending our nation.” Sure Raine had a couple of run-ins with the law, but nothing very serious.
“He probably just joined to stay out of prison. The whole family is no good, Fee. I don’t want you to associate with any of them in the future.” Rich turned to greet the next one in line. It was our next-door neighbor, Lillian. How many times had she been caught shoplifting, but she was all right to associate with. Hypocrisy.
“She works at the beauty shop, Rich. I wasn’t planning on inviting her over for tea,” I said as Lillian ambled on.
“Find a new beautician then.” When did he become so bossy? I wasn’t going to change my beautician for such a silly reason. Did he even think about what he just said? More people were lining up and our minister, Pastor Dale, was nearly ready to start the prayers. I guess those two hours didn’t drag like I thought they would.
Pastor Dale began the prayers even before everyone had a chance to go through the line. The prayers seemed to go on for hours, how many ways was there to say the same thing? We lost someone we loved and should rejoice in their life. That would have been enough, but no, Pastor Dale went on for nearly an hour before he bowed his head for the final benediction. Tomorrow would be more of the same.
When we finally arrived back at home, I was a little worried that some of the family would feel they needed to be there with us, but fortunately, they did not. It was nice not having to say or do anything for the sake of keeping the peace with my family members. I felt like I was wrung out. I quickly got ready for bed; I didn’t want to think about anything at all.
It was irritating when Rich came upstairs so early. Usually, he stayed down in his study until I was asleep. But as he started to undress, I realized there was a whole lot more to it than that. It was Thursday night, after all. He would want to have sex with his always dutiful wife. How did it get to be this mundane? I had to wonder if he enjoyed our scheduled interlude, or if he felt like it more of a chore like I did. The schedule had been his idea to begin with, he had different events during various weeknights and didn’t want his base needs to interfere with anything more important.
“Are you sure you want to, Rich? I mean, we could let it go for another week if you want.” Please, I thought, let’s forget about it this week.
“Huh? No, it’s best if we stay on schedule. We missed last week, remember? I struggled with some urges during the first part of the week.” Rich removed all of his clothing and lay down beside me. It was always the same—about three minutes of foreplay and then he felt he was ready. It never mattered if I was, not that I ever would be. Once he mounted, he used the exact same rhythm, which I knew by heart.
Once he was finished, I realized that he must have been extra horny, as the last of his full-throttle thrusts were fewer in number. Nothing like a little change to spice up the love life. For Rich, there was a time and place for everything, and I don’t think passion has ever had a place. He performed his duties as well as he could, nothing extra just like everything else in his life. He owned and ran the hardware store with the same outlook. You’ll find everything you need, but nothing extra.
The following morning, Rich did seem much more attentive. He treated me like some fragile piece of china. Though I kept telling myself that it was nice that he was trying to take care of me, I still was irritated by the overprotectiveness and started to feel smothered by it. I kept telling myself that these feelings were caused by my grief and I should calmly accept his overbearing demeanor.
My family also surrounded us at the front of the church. The whole congregation would be there, of course. I had attended the Full Gospel Mission all of my life. My family was a major contributor through all the years and made up nearly half of the church membership. All the other members would need to be seen at the funeral. If one didn’t show, there would be all sorts of rumors. The minister preached against such things, but the holier-than-thou mentality of most of the membership thought it didn’t include them. They could judge, back stab, and promote gossip at will because they were above the rest of creation.
Having been brought up with this m
entality, I often thought the same when I was growing up. For some reason, maybe having a friendship outside the norm, I have always tried to steer clear of the more self-righteous Christians.
When Rich and I were first married, we would host bible study groups quite often, but after a while, we noticed that most of the couples were looking for a handout, not any sort of deep understanding of God’s word. We started to make excuses for no longer hosting or attending these groups and felt we were better off for it.
So it was that the church was filled to bursting. The entire membership was in attendance, plus all the hardware store customers and employees that felt they should attend also. At the beginning of the service, Marsha seemed determined to take the spot right beside me. I’m sure she felt that I would have needed her shoulder to cry on, but fortunately, I noticed my parents walking in behind her and motioned for my mother to take the seat next to me. So with Rich on one side and my parents on the other, it seemed the best it could be, though I still felt chills when I looked at the small casket in front of us. I kept reminding myself that my little girl was not inside that box. Her spirit was flying free, pain-free, and without earthly limitations.
The service was a traditional funeral rite, with Pastor Dale trying to contain his sobbing while informing the congregation of all Lizzie’s wise anecdotes he had heard from her since she became ill. I knew of most of them, having been in the room most of the time, but I heard the many sniffles and sobs from all around me. Yes, my Lizzie could come up with the darnedest statements. I thought that I should have kept a journal of all her little quips. But then again, I’m sure every parent thinks their child is the wittiest one around.