A Room with a Pew Page 4

  Mario smiled. “Of course.”

  Lucille figured men were born knowing how to do things like jump-start cars. It wasn’t fair.

  Mario hooked up the cables and Lucille and Flo got in their respective cars. He pointed at Flo and she started her engine. He pointed at Lucille and she turned the key in the ignition. The Olds sprang to life, and Lucille felt a rush of relief. Her baby wasn’t dead yet.

  Mario had them sit and idle for a bit before turning off the cars again. He quickly removed the cables and handed them back to Flo.

  Lucille started to thank him, but he cut her off.

  “My pleasure,” he called over his shoulder as he headed back to his own house.

  “Thanks for coming by, Flo. I don’t know how I’d have gotten to the A&P if I hadn’t gotten the Olds started.”

  “I need to pick up a couple of things for dinner myself. I’ll meet you there. This way if the Olds doesn’t want to start again, I can at least give you a lift home.”

  Lucille didn’t want to think about the Olds not starting again. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine immediately sprang to life. Looks like her baby was as good as new.

  Flo was waiting just inside the door to the A&P when Lucille got there.

  “I’m heading to the frozen food section,” Flo said as Lucille wrestled a cart from the tangle by the door.

  Lucille shook her head. The one time she’d peeked into Flo’s freezer she’d been horrified to see stacks of frozen microwaveable dinners. She didn’t know how Flo could eat that stuff. She was glad Flo came for Sunday dinner—it was probably the only decent meal she got all week unless Richie took her out for a steak.

  Lucille started up the first aisle. She plucked a couple of cans of cannellini beans from the shelves. They were on sale, and they were certainly on her Mediterranean diet.

  She began pushing her cart down the next aisle, but a woman was blocking the way. She was checking out the cookie assortment. Lucille caught a glimpse of a picture of a chocolate chip cookie on one of the bags and turned her head. She didn’t want no temptation. This time she was sticking to her diet.

  But maybe Frankie would like some cookies. Lucille put out a hand, grabbed the bag and tossed it in her cart before she could change her mind again.

  The woman in front of her still hadn’t moved. Lucille cleared her throat but the woman obviously didn’t hear her.

  “Excuse me. Can I get through here?”

  The woman spun around. “I’m sorry—” She cut the word off abruptly.

  Lucille’s mouth dropped. It was Carol, Mona’s daughter. Her first instinct was to spin her cart around and run in the opposite direction. But then a thought occurred to her—maybe she could feel this Carol out, real subtle like, and find out whether she had an alibi for Louis’s murder.

  Lucille was surprised that Carol actually looked embarrassed. Probably on account of blocking the aisle the way she had.

  “Hello. It’s Lucille, isn’t it?” she said almost hesitantly.

  She was wearing a cable knit cream sweater and dark jeans with a crease in them. Sheesh, Lucille thought, did she actually iron her dungarees? Lucille always thought of them as something you wore to garden in or clean the house. Of course, she knew everyone wore them nowadays, but she found them uncomfortable herself—she much preferred her elastic-waisted pants.

  “Carol, right? Mona’s daughter.”

  “Yes.” Carol looked down at her brown loafers. “And I want to apologize for what I said at your cousin’s funeral.”

  “That’s okay. We all get upset sometimes. It’s not like you had anything to do with Louis’s death or nothing.”

  Carol reared back slightly. “I should hope not.”

  “I mean, I know you were real mad about your mother taking up with him, and I don’t blame you. Louis didn’t bring nothing to the table, as they say. And your mother with all that money. I can see why you felt you ought to be protecting her. I would do the same if I were you.”

  Carol looked confused.

  “I mean, Louis was killed around ten o’clock on Friday morning. Right after he dropped his sister Millie off at the church for the novena. I’m sure you had better things to do than hang around the church parking lot on a Friday morning.”

  Carol’s face tensed and her eyebrows drew together. Lucille thought she looked like that face they put up on the weather channel when a storm was coming.

  “Are you asking me for an . . . alibi?” Carol asked, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “No, no. Nothing like that.”

  “It sure sounds like you are.” Carol raised her clenched fists.

  Lucille stood up a little straighter. This Carol woman didn’t know who she was messing with. Lucille had gone five rounds with Lorraine DiPasquale back in high school in the girls’ room after first period. She’d drawn detention for a week and had had a black eye, but she’d sported her battle wounds proudly. The funny thing was she could no longer remember what the fight had been about.

  “You owe me an apology,” Carol demanded, waving a fist in Lucille’s face.

  “For what?” Lucille took a step forward so that they were toe-to-toe.

  “For calling me a murderer.”

  “I didn’t call you no murderer. All I said was—”

  “I know what you said,” Carol responded, taking a swing at Lucille.

  Lucille ducked. She had to get out of here. If someone called the cops and her nephew Gabe showed up—or worse yet, Richie Sambucco—she’d die of embarrassment.

  She started to push Carol’s cart away so she could get through, but Carol grabbed the handle and maneuvered it so that it was almost blocking the entire aisle. Lucille decided she’d have to abandon her shopping. She was squeezing past Carol’s cart when Carol began swiping at Lucille with her handbag.

  Sheesh, she must have rocks in there, Lucille thought as a blow connected with the side of her head. The temptation to hit back was strong, but she managed to resist and break free. She took off down the aisle with Carol in hot pursuit.

  Suddenly Flo came around the corner, her cart laden with frozen diet meals.

  “Help,” Lucille squeaked as Carol closed in on her.

  Flo angled her cart so that she was temporarily blocking Carol, and she and Lucille took off down another aisle.

  “What’s wrong with that woman?” Flo asked, slightly breathless.

  “I was trying to feel her out and find out where she was when Louis was murdered. Because if you ask me, that woman has murderous tendencies.”

  Carol had closed the gap between her and Lucille. “I heard that,” she shouted, swinging wildly with her purse. “Just for your information, I was visiting my mother when your cousin was killed.”

  Carol was close enough to Lucille now to grab hold of a handful of Lucille’s shirt.

  Lucille heard a tearing sound as she wrenched away from Carol and shot an elbow back, catching Carol in the chest.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Flo wheezed. “That woman is dangerous.”

  Ahead of them a woman was leaning on a cane as she examined a shelf of Depends. Parked next to her was a motorized scooter. Lucille jumped on the scooter and hit the gas.

  “Don’t leave me,” Flo yelled. She caught up with the scooter and managed to seat herself on the handlebars. She giggled. “This reminds me of when Jimmy Barrow used to give me a ride home on his bicycle in seventh grade.”

  “I can’t see nothing with you sitting there,” Lucille said, trying to peer around Flo.

  “Just keep going straight, you’re fine.”

  Flo felt the air behind her stir, and glanced over her shoulder to see Carol nearly upon them, swinging her shoulder bag wildly.

  “Can’t you go any faster, Lucille? She’s gaining on us.”

  “I’ve got the pedal to the floor as it is.”

  “Stop,” Flo suddenly shouted.

  “You want me to go faster or you want me to stop—which is it?
”

  “We have to turn. We’re at the end of the aisle.”

  “How can I turn when I can’t even see?”

  “Turn now. Take it nice and easy,” Flo said.

  Lucille slowed down as Flo shouted directions and turned the wheel as instructed. The scooter didn’t handle like the Olds, that was for sure.

  “You’re too close,” Flo shouted, but it was too late.

  Lucille clipped a towering display of canned peaches. It tottered, teetered and finally crashed, sending canned fruit rolling down the floor.

  “Geez, Lucille! Don’t you know how to drive?”

  “You try driving this thing,” Lucille shot back. “It’s like steering a truck.”

  They heard a crash behind them, and Lucille slowed while they looked over their shoulders to see Carol sprawled on her back on the floor. She’d obviously tripped over one of the rolling cans.

  “Good job, Lucille,” Flo said as they sped down the aisle toward the front of the store. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Chapter 6

  The manager gave Flo a venomous look when he noticed she was abandoning her cart full of frozen dinners. “I’m going to have to put all those back now!” He shook his finger at Flo.

  “Knock yourself out,” Flo said. She whispered to Lucille, “You know he’ll have the stock boy do it so I don’t know what he’s complaining about.”

  “Better make the sign,” Lucille said, holding out her hand with her index and pinky fingers raised. “In case he gave you the evil eye.”

  “Come on, let’s jump in my Mustang and go over to the Old Glory,” Flo said. “We can pick up your Olds when things have cooled down.”

  “I could get her now and meet you there.”

  “You want to take a chance on her not starting up right away?”

  Lucille opened her mouth to defend the Olds, but then realized Flo was right. She didn’t want crazy woman Carol catching up with her while she was trying to get the car to turn over.

  Flo pulled out of the parking lot on two wheels and shot diagonally across Springfield Avenue into the parking lot of the Old Glory. Lucille grabbed for the door handle with one hand and tightened her seat belt with the other. There was a parking spot right in front of the restaurant, and Flo roared into it, scaring an elderly woman who had been strolling by on the sidewalk. They came to a halt with the front wheels touching the curb.

  Even though the wind was as bitter as it had been earlier, Lucille realized she was sweating. First the encounter with Carol and now Flo’s driving—it was enough to give a person agita. She made a quick prayer to St. Wolfgang, patron saint of those with stomach troubles, and followed Flo into the Old Glory.

  The place was nearly empty—it was after lunch and not quite time for the senior citizens to take advantage of the early bird special. Lucille figured it was only a matter of time before she and Frankie were showing up to get the senior discount. The thought was depressing. Life had gone by so fast, and sometimes she felt as if she hadn’t really lived yet. She gave herself a mental shake: she had a daughter and a granddaughter and a wonderful husband—what more did she need?

  The lone waitress was putting out frilly paper placements and silverware bundled in napkins on the tables up front. Lucille and Flo headed toward a booth in the back.

  Lucille collapsed onto the seat. Today had been quite a day. She grabbed one of the plastic-coated menus the bored waitress tossed on their table. She needed a little something as a pick-me-up.

  “Just a diet soda for me,” Flo said, handing the menu back.

  “Are you having anything, Lucille?”

  Lucille studied the menu. If she was going to stick to her diet, she needed something Italian. She scanned the offerings and suddenly her eyes lit upon the fried mozzarella sticks. What could be more Italian than that? She gave the waitress her order and handed back the menu. The waitress made a face—she probably knew there wasn’t going to be no big tip considering what they’d ordered.

  “So,” Flo said, leaning her elbows on the table, “I think we’ve found your cousin Louis’s murderer.” She pulled a compact and lipstick from her purse. “That woman is nuts.”

  “You think she’s nuts enough to kill somebody?”

  Flo paused with the lipstick in her hand. “Don’t you think so?”

  The waitress reappeared then, dropping off Flo’s soda and Lucille’s mozzarella sticks.

  “I don’t know.” Lucille dipped one of the mozzarella sticks in the small container of marinara sauce. “She claims she was visiting her mother when Louis was killed.”

  Flo frowned. “Yeah, but who’s to say she isn’t lying?”

  Lucille dabbed at a smidge of sauce that had dropped on the front of her blouse. “We could check it out. Go over and see Ma and maybe find out if this Carol is telling the truth.” She frowned as she brushed at the spot on her top. “But how will we know? We can’t exactly go up to Mona and ask her.”

  Flo drummed her long, hot pink nails on the table. “We could ask around. See if anyone saw her.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. There’s always someone at that front desk over at New Beginnings.”

  Flo shuddered. “New Beginnings? It’s more like Last Stop. I sure hope I don’t end up somewheres like that. The place gives me the creeps—all those old people leaning over their walkers and leaving their teeth on the bedside table at night.”

  “I don’t know. Ma really likes it there.” Lucille thought she wouldn’t mind it a bit. You went to a nice dining room to get your meals. No cooking or cleaning. Sometimes she was surprised by how tired she felt by the end of the day.

  “Still—what would you do for fun?”

  “There’s bingo.”

  Flo rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

  Lucille polished off the last mozzarella stick. She was feeling better already. All she’d needed was a little something to eat. All the diet books said you shouldn’t let yourself get too hungry.

  Lucille snapped her fingers suddenly. “I know. Whenever I go see Ma, they have me sign this fancy guest book. I gotta put down the time, the date and everything. Then when I leave, I have to stop at the desk again and put in the time.” She shook her head. “There’s a big clock over the desk, which is great on account of I sometimes forget to wear my watch.”

  “That’s it then! All we’ve got to do is check out that book and see if Carol really was at New Beginnings on Friday like she said.”

  Lucille tossed her crumpled napkin on the table and they got up.

  “I’ll get this,” Flo said as they approached the cashier with their check.

  “But all you had was a soda, and I—”

  Flo waved away Lucille’s objections and pulled out her wallet.

  Lucille helped herself to a mint from the bowl on the counter. She figured one small mint wouldn’t make a difference to her diet. Especially seeing as how it wasn’t actually candy on account of it was meant to freshen your breath.

  “Let’s go by the A&P so I can pick up the Olds,” Lucille said, unwrapping the mint and popping it in her mouth. “I’m sure crazy Carol has cleared out by now.”

  Flo glanced at the clock over the cashier’s desk. “She’s got to have. Her cart was almost full when we were there, and it’s been three-quarters of an hour.”

  “Yeah, the checkout clerks are slow, but not that slow.”

  They got in Flo’s Mustang, and this time Lucille grabbed the door handle before Flo even had the key in the ignition. Flo floored it, and once again they shot across Springfield Avenue and into the parking lot of the A&P. She pulled into the empty space alongside Lucille’s Olds.

  Lucille was about to get out of the car when Flo stopped her. “Looks like I’m almost out of gas. I’m going to stop at the Exxon station, and then I’ll meet you out at New Beginnings.”

  Lucille glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time. They serve dinner at four thirty, and Ma will be one of the first down to the dining room.
Why don’t we take the Olds, and you can get gas after we get back.”

  “Okay.” Flo grabbed her purse, dropped the keys inside and followed Lucille over to her car.

  The Olds started up as soon as Lucille turned the key. “See?” She glanced at Flo. “She’s not ready for the junkyard yet. All she needed was a jump and she’s as good as new.”

  Flo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why you won’t let Frankie buy you a new car.”

  Lucille sighed. “Right now Frankie’s business isn’t doing too good. Besides, I don’t want a new car.”

  Flo raised her eyebrow again but didn’t say anything.

  • • •

  There were only a handful of cars in the guest parking lot at New Beginnings. The fountain out front was still running, although Lucille supposed it was only a matter of time before it had to be turned off. A frost was predicted for the end of the week.

  The door to New Beginnings was draped with a plastic garland threaded with small white lights. It had been there since before Thanksgiving. Lucille could remember when people didn’t start decorating for Christmas until the beginning of December. Now they were playing Christmas carols in the stores the day after Halloween, and by Christmas you were so tired of them you wanted to scream.

  They had barely stepped over the threshold into the lobby when a woman called to them.

  “Hello! All guests must sign the guest book.” She peered at them closely as they approached the reception desk. “You are guests, right? Not residents? We have so many new ones at the moment—”

  Flo’s icy glare cut her off. Lucille felt herself stiffen as well. She touched her hair. She did have some gray in front—maybe it was time to think about coloring it. She’d ask Rita about it the next time she went to the Clip and Curl. And she was going to lose weight, too. Who knows? She might even get carded again when she went to the liquor store. Not that anyone would take her for being under twenty-one, but they had a big sign up at M & M Liquor that said they had to card anyone who looked like they was forty or under.

  Lucille walked up to the counter.

  The woman behind it pushed a book with New Beginnings on the front toward Lucille and handed her a pen.