The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,32
again. It would have been creepy if I didn’t know there was a body in the barn, which in the scheme of things was far creepier.
Then my mom got into the forties thing along with Aunt Babe, who began reciting whole scenes from noir films. Nick admitted to being a huge fan, which only fueled the Barbara Stanwyck fire. Of course, Lisa played right into it with her own extensive background in classic films.
I sat in silence wondering if Lisa and I would be sharing the same jail cell since it was obvious we were all doomed to a life of judicial confinement.
Aunt Babe said, “I’ve got one: Yes I love him. I love those hick shirts he wears with the boiled cuffs and the way he always has his vest buttoned wrong. He looks like a giraffe, and I love him.”
Nick jumped up from his chair. “Wait, I know that one!”
Lisa nudged his arm. “Too slow. I’ve got it. Ball of Fire, nineteen-forty-one, Stanwyck and Cooper, and she’s a showgirl with the regal name of—”
“Sugarpuss O’Shea,” Nick bellowed.
“You know that?” Lisa asked, obviously impressed by Nick’s knowledge of movie facts.
He nodded. “Named a stray cat Sugarpuss right after I first saw the film.”
Leo said, “So that’s where that name came from. I thought it was because . . . when you’re ten everything is sexual innuendo.”
“And when you’re thirty-two?” I asked.
“Everything still has sexual innuendo, honey. It’s what spins the globe,” Aunt Babe chided, while sipping her wine.
I couldn’t take the tension anymore and decided to slip away while everyone was playing the “name that movie” game. The night had succeeded in giving me a royal headache, and unless I got rid of that handgun soon my head was going to explode.
I walked to the barn via my mom’s house. I figured everyone would think I was simply making a bathroom run. I walked across the lawn, up the front steps, past Uncle Benny who gave me a slight nod, through the living room, past my mom’s room, made a quick pit stop in the bathroom and downed a couple aspirin, continued through the kitchen, which still housed an abundance of food and baked goods, and walked directly out the back door. This time the lure of the cookies couldn’t deter my mission. In truth, their sweet smell sickened me, the complete opposite of my normal response to anything baked with sugar and fat.
I made a beeline straight for the barn, jogging across the small gravel parking area, which was now eerily devoid of my relatives’ cars. Of course, Lisa’s red BMW was still there, and Leo’s Mercedes XL was tucked in close to the barn alongside a black BMW SUV, which had to belong to Cousin Dickey, the now deceased Cousin Dickey.
My head throbbed with a vengeance. Apparently, it was going to take more than two aspirin to quell what was going on in my overtaxed head.
When I opened the barn door, it suddenly occurred to me that I had made no plan for the handgun once I retrieved it. Where would I hide the damn thing? I didn’t have a pocket deep enough that wouldn’t announce hand-gun, and if I moved it somewhere else in the barn, the police would eventually find it.
This deception game was getting entirely too complicated. The bracelet was one thing—I still had it tucked away in my pocket—but that handgun required some creative thinking. Besides it would be dripping with olive oil.
Just as I reached for the light switch, I heard a car door slam, and the distinct sound of footsteps crunching up behind me across the gravel. I hoped it was Uncle Benny coming to assist with my handgun dilemma, but when I turned and saw Leo only a few feet away carrying a case of his wine, the Russo name prominent on the deep red logo, my heat skipped a beat.
Now what?
“Hey,” he called out. “Your mom insisted that I couldn’t just leave this wine without taking some oil in return. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she can be. Once she makes up her mind, there’s no room for debate.” He balanced the box up on his right shoulder as he walked in closer. “I hear you’ve got a couple new oils I haven’t tried so I decided not to fight her. She said they’re stored in the middle of the barn on the right, if that makes any sense. Maybe you could