“Yes ma’am?” I answered with a lilt. Then I listened and shot to attention and my feet. Mama and Nonnie and Tally had already gone on point, alerted by my body language and tone. “We’ll be there in a minute.” I turned to them all as I clicked off the phone, nodding at their questioning expressions. “Get dressed, black. Bring gloves. We’ve got twenty minutes.” I paused with a slight grimacing smile. “And we’re gonna need a dead animal.”
Tally grinned like Santa baby had given her a ’54 light blue convertible. (Tally was always singing Christmas songs, which interrupted my normal stream of country song consciousness).
“I’ll get the gloves,” she grinned. Without questioning me, Mama and Nonnie sighed and exchanged glances, getting up to take action.
“I’ll get the cheese,” Mama offered.
“I think the gun’s at my house,” Nonnie remembered, “Pick me up.” She gathered her purse and the sweet tea she had been nursing, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the table that Mama had no doubt baked for two very different reasons. One, to calm herself down after hearing Cash had come to see me and two, in an attempt to encourage me to give up all the details.
“Twenty minutes!” I yelled at Nonnie’s back as she headed out the door to her golf cart bedecked in metallic and fringe. The golf cart had at one time been Daddy’s. He’d bought it when he’d taken up golfing to cure stress and had given it to Nonnie after breaking his seven-iron over his knee on the fourteenth tee.
Forty-five minutes later we’d piled into Nonnie’s big SUV, me at the wheel, Nonnie riding shotgun in the passenger seat and Tally and Mama in the back with the necessary supplies.
“Who is it now?” Mama finally asked as I turned onto the highway toward town and Fae Lynn’s house.
“Brandy,” I replied grimly.
“Well good grief,” Nonnie huffed, “I swear, I told that young lady a hundred times. Any man that walks around calling every female darlin’ including his own mama, is probably walking around waving his pecker at them too. They can’t be trusted. I cannot believe I had to put that skunk in a trash bag after I warned her sorry behind,” Nonnie clapped her hands over her mouth in shock at her bawdiness, then giggled with glee. Let me reiterate one more time, she’s never been the same since the pacemaker.
“Oh, Nonnie, it wouldn’t matter who it was, you’d have gotten a skunk for any one of us girls, no questions asked,” Tally giggled. It was true. There was some unwritten, unmentioned code of the South that forced women of all ages to set aside petty differences to help out one of their own, not including white trash or the uppity, although the lines had been stretched a time or two. So, when a sister of the South needed support, that icon that encompasses all things southern and all things female reared its genteel head. The backbone of the steel magnolia snapped into place and duty deferred to grievances past and squabbles present.
We parked at Fae Lynn’s beside a silver Lexus, a green minivan, and a red Mustang. We opened the door as Fae Lynn’s husband, Scott, came out, shoving his arms into a Carhartt barn jacket.
“I don’t want any part of this,” he muttered, shaking his head. He buttoned his jacket over his stomach softened by beer and his wife’s cooking. “Y’all’re crazy when you get like this. If Fae Lynn calls me one more time to bail y’all out, I’m not speakin’ to any of you until Christmas.”
“Cool down, sugar,” Tally retorted, “Lilly’s back. You know she can talk any officer out of arresting us.”
Scott eyed me suspiciously, “I’ve heard. I just hope you don’t have to prove it.”
“Tell you what Scotty, go stay with Lloyd and come back tomorrow morning before you have to be at the station. Everything will be fine,” I assured him with a wink. He shook his head skeptically but walked away toward his truck.
“Isn’t he in a twist,” Tally giggled as we followed the sound of a blender toward the kitchen and the beginning of tonight’s entertainment.
Ever proper, Nonnie chastised Tally, “Mind your manners, he’s just upset he’s missing dinner.” Mama rolled her eyes and strolled ahead down the hall.
“You two quit goofing so we can get down to business.”
We entered the kitchen to the scent of limes and baking chocolate. In the midst of five women sat a petite female with once mousy brown hair, now streaked with strategic highlights. Tear stained cheeks held little remnants of once artfully applied makeup. The tears had ruined the mascara so necessary to southern beauty. Lipstick had been bitten off. Brandy’s small shoulders shook with sobs as she hiccupped and blubbered on, “Adam’s such a good decent name. He took me to meet his mama. He said I was the perfect woman to have his children. Why would he do this?”
“Well,” drawled a tall, plump, dark-haired beauty of Indian descent, “he is from Texas, and you know what they say… steer and queers.”
“Hush, Charlotte. Everything’s supposed to be bigger and better too,” said a busty blond of barroom hair and a heart shaped face with big grey eyes. “Now honey, don’t mind her, you know how she gets.”
“I get honest, Jacqueline, which is more than I can say for most women around here. God forbid we say the truth instead of sticking our heads in the sand and forgiving a man and taking him back every time he strays. It’s not like she’s married to him.”
I decided to enter the conversation with my usual diplomacy.
“Now y’all calm down, there’s no use us ganging up on each other when the real party who needs to be reckoned with is out having a grand time. We don’t stick our heads in the sand, Char, we just don’t sit around discussing it. We get proactive, and make sure they don’t do it again.”
“Lord Mercy, Lilly, I thought I’d never have to hear your hoity-toity voice again. Darlin’ how the hell are you, and what the hell was Cash Stetson doing in your office this afternoon?”
“We were just catching up,” I tried to explain away the implication with a wave of my hand, “You know, old friends and all that.”
“Since when are y’all friends of any sort?” Fae Lynn’s mama, Grace snorted, “I swear, that man is still a heathen, no matter if he is Chief of Staff at the hospital. I still remember him peeing on my prize rosebush and killing it off before the contest.”
“He was nine, Grace,” I defended, as I usually did for Cash. Some things never change.
“Exactly,” she asserted, “old enough to know better.”
“Ladies, damnit, can we get down to business?” Fae Lynn steamed. Fae Lynn already had all the gossip on me she needed and wasn’t one for wasting time on things she didn’t deem imminent. We all took one more gulp of sustenance and returned our attention to the task at hand. We exchanged gossip and giggles, trying to calm Brandy down with soothing pats while we plied her with liquor and brownies. I got a round of hugs from everyone until Fae Lynn’s phone rang and she confirmed we were set to go. Charlotte, Fae Lynn and Grace gathered up a variety of cheeses and stuffed them into a black cloth bag while I grabbed the keys. Nonnie, Mama and Jacqueline gathered up a tear-stained and tequila-soaked Brandy and led her to the foyer.
“You brought the gun, right?” Fae Lynn questioned.
“Yes ma’am. You’ve got the tool don’t you?” I asked.
“Ooh, dang. I forgot that and the goldfish,” she turned back towards the kitchen.
“We should get the tequila,” Nonnie volunteered as she followed Fae Lynn. They both returned a minute later, Fae Lynn carrying a small metal tool that looked like a tire gauge and a plastic baggie of what appeared to be dead goldfish. Nonnie held up the thermos triumphantly, “Got it!” she chortled.
“What in heaven’s name is in that bag and where did you get that?” I gasped at Fae Lynn.
“Goldfish, I overfed them and they died real quick. I figured I’d go get some more before Hazzard missed them.” I won’t go into why Fae Lynn and Scotty’s son was named Hazzard right now. I’ll save it for later, we had justice to extract.
“You murdered your son’s goldfish?!”
“It’s for a good cause, Lilly. Don’t get on your high horse. You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first,” she snapped defensively, “He’ll never miss them. He’s with Daddy.” I shook my head and headed out the door after everyone.
In Dallas I used to go out and have a glass of wine with my girlfriends. I come home and all of a sudden I’m an accessory to knocking off goldfish. I guess it was for a good cause.
We piled into the car and checked seatbelts. We were dressed in a variety of black, from Saks to Wal-Mart. Black slacks, stretch pants, jeans, yoga pants; black tops, sweaters, blouses and boots, tennis shoes, and heels were our intermingled outfits. Our one common accessory was the dark maroon cotton gloves we all sported. It was obvious we’d all been in this same situation before, as we all knew the drill. Never let it be said that a man got the best of a respectable woman in Brooks, Oklahoma. I headed toward main street and the only bar in town.
Chester’s was a karaoke “bar” with a small stage, a big bar, and a room off the back where patrons played pool. My uncle actually owned the bar, his name was actually Chester, and yes, much to my father’s dismay we actually claimed him as family. Chester was a character. Thick white hair and a beard the same color, along with his ruddy nose and broken capillary complexion gave him the appearance of Santa Claus except for the pearl snap shirts, chest hair and gold bling hanging from his neck.
He was married to Nonnie’s sister, Jewel, who taught 3rd grade Sunday school at the First Baptist Church.. Anyway. See how being in this town makes me get off track? So much for my sharp legal reasoning mind! I swung onto Main Street and the car chatter went silent. We all searched the street for our prey.
“There it is,” Tally started, almost leaping out of her seat. The white Envoy sat, for all to see, parked in front of Chester’s. Any self-respecting man with a significant other knew to park in back of the bar, lest they advertise their presence and start the gossip grapevine.
“Well that is a fine piece of horse shit,” Charlotte harrumphed, “Look at the man, parked on the street, like the uppity asshole that he is. Honey, if he’s not any smarter’n that, you don’t want him.”
“He’s not a manly man, you can tell that. Any man that drives a soccer mom car isn’t worth the toilet paper he wipes his butt with,” Tally agreed.
“I’m parking around back, y’all get ready. Remember the drill, do it fast, do it silent, and get out of there. We got a five minute limit. Everybody got their stuff?” I was back to taking charge. My adrenaline was hyped. I’m telling you, don’t get therapy, get even.
Fae Lynn passed the dead goldfish back to Char and held up the small metal tool. Grace passed out the cheese to Mama and Jacqueline. Nonnie gathered up her sack of dead varmint and handed me the gun. Tally turned in the back seat and produced a small white bag.
“What is that?” I drawled warily.
“Dog poo,” Tally grinned. Man if she wasn’t evil, “and a spatula, to spread it around.”
“Shit,” Fae Lynn smiled, shaking her head at Tally and her recent antics.
“Exactly,” Tally said slyly. I parked behind the bar and we all took a collective deep breath.
“Let’s do it,” I placed my hand on the door handle. ”Go!”
We piled out of the car and scurried around the building. Grace, Mama and Jacque went to work stuffing Camembert, Gouda and Muenster in the tailpipe. Fae Lynn went to work on the tires, while Tally opened her sack and took up her spatula. Char popped the hood and emptied the sack of fish into the engine as Nonnie tied the dead skunk around the antenna. I took up the gun and made short work of my assignment. Four minutes and seventeen seconds later we were back in the car where we had left Brandy. I envisioned the look on Adam’s face when he walked out of Chester’s drunker than Cooter Brown and saw his new white Envoy smeared with dog “poo” on the hood and ‘Die Bitch’ spelled out down both sides with neon splats from a paintball gun, smells of dead fish and cheese emanating from the interior and a dead skunk dangling from the antenna, not to mention the four flat tires. Fae Lynn turned and handed Brandy four small rubber pieces.
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