Chill my ass. “I’m not in a good mood,” I said, biting my tongue to prevent saying anything I’d later regret.
“Okay, okay . . . sheesh.” Nathan coughed. “So, old Joe took one on the wing? Tell him to get better and watch his step next time. Was it some redneck yokel out hunting ducks or something?”
I was starting to get a sense for why Joe hesitated when discussing his family. Nathan apparently didn’t fall far from Dexter’s tree.
“We don’t know,” I said. “Since you aren’t going to make it, I’ll just tell Joe you said hello. I have to go now. Bye.” I hung up before he could say another word—and before I forever ruined any rapport I might have with my soon-to-be brother-in-law. I stared at the phone in my hand.
Grandma M. might be a pain in the butt sometimes, and my mother and father were bland, if loving, parents. Rose could be a handful, but had somebody called any of them with word that I was shot, they’d be here in a flash. I’d deliberately kept some of my misadventures from them because I didn’t want them to worry. In contrast to Nathan, they were as loving and supportive as I could ask for. I glanced at the clock. Time to call Margaret, Joe’s aunt. At least she would be at the hospital first thing come visiting hours.
My hand poised to dial, I stopped and put the phone down. Aunt Maggie deserved better than hearing the news over the phone. I grabbed my keys and let the kids know I’d be out for a little while. Hell, she might even have some idea as to why Joe had been shot.
MARGARET FILES WAS one of those timeless women. I knew she was in her early seventies, and she looked it, but her spirit was as bright as a one-hundred-watt bulb in a small room. She loved life, and life loved her. A good twenty years older than her brother—Joe’s father—she’d been more of a parent to Joe than either Dexter or Terri.
Maggie had worked for the county clerk’s office until she retired and now she was always out and about, volunteering at the local hospital, organizing food drives, playing cutthroat pinochle with her friends, and generally keeping herself busy, productive, and happy.
She was also dating Lanford Willis, a retired doctor, and was the scandal of the town’s matronly set on two accounts: Lanford was black, and they’d been caught in their robes at the breakfast table by one of Maggie’s friends. The race issue would die away quickly. The sex scandal was more problematic.
When she opened the door, I could tell she’d already heard the news. She bustled me in and settled me in the rocking chair with a glass of lemonade before I knew what had happened.
“I know he was shot, I know he’s okay, so don’t you fret,” she said.
I relaxed, thinking again about Nathan and how cavalier he’d been over his brother’s injury. With a shake of my head, I launched into what had happened, filling in the missing details for her. As I finished my story, I asked, “Can you think of anybody who might have a grudge against Joe?”
Maggie glanced over at me from the window, where she was studying the last of the evening light that filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicately woven patterns on the walls. After a moment, she turned, a thoughtful look on her face.
“What about that man you were dating before you met Joe? I recall he was pestering you to get back together with him.”
“Andrew?” The thought had never occurred to me. To be honest, I’d pretty much pushed Andrew’s existence out of my mind. I thought we could be friends but he wouldn’t leave me alone. He’d been the one who dumped me, but he couldn’t stand the thought I’d moved on. So, I dropped contact with him. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if he still lives in Chiqetaw.”
“You might want to have your detective friend check him out for you,” Maggie said, refilling my glass and adding a splash of cherry juice.
As I sipped the concoction, wincing at the tangy combination of sour and sweet tart on my tongue, I thought about what she’d said. Could Andrew possibly still think we had a chance? Was he even aware that I was getting married? The notice had been in the paper, of course, and being a quasi celebrity in Chiqetaw assured me a write-up in Ingrid Lindstrom’s column. But even if he knew, would Andrew stoop to shooting Joe? I’d have to call Murray, it was that simple. If there was even a chance it was Andrew, she had to check it out.
The thought crossed my mind that if Joe was in danger, Randa and Kip might be next in line . . . or me. I pulled out my cell phone, excused myself, and punched in Murray’s number.
Four
MURRAY DIDN’T ANSWER so I left a message, asking her to call me the next morning. I glanced at the clock. Almost eleven, and I was exhausted. “I’d better be getting home,” I said, “but before I go, do you think I should drop by the hospital to tell Joe about Nathan? After all, Joe will expect him to be there when he gets home. I promised to pick up Nate from the airport.”
Margaret nixed the idea. “Let him rest.” The look on her face spoke volumes. Her brow furrowed, she let out a loud sigh. “Nathan is a carbon copy of Dexter. Dex always has been, and always will be, an irresponsible boy in a man’s body. I had hoped that both sons would escape their heritage, but it seems it was too much to ask.” She brightened. “At least Joe didn’t succumb to the family pattern of addiction. Tell him about Nathan tomorrow, on your way home from the hospital.”
She fussed with her tea. “I have to say, Emerald, I consider Joe lucky to have you. You’ve given him the stability and sense of family he’s always craved. And I know he’s head over heels in love with you.”
“When I asked Joe if he wanted to invite his parents to the wedding, I thought he was going to raise the roof,” I said. “That’s the only time I’ve seen him get angry. He’s got a lot of pent-up resentment toward them.” I hadn’t been afraid of his outburst, but I learned quickly that his family was a subject better left untouched. Apparently, I wouldn’t be meeting my in-laws, other than Maggie.
“It’s a little chilly this evening,” she said, reaching for a lace shawl draped over the arm of the sofa. She wrapped it around her shoulders. “After Dexter left, Terri had no idea what to do. She was young, with two young boys, and her husband abandoned her, taking every cent that he hadn’t already gambled away. Terri and the boys’ lives became very chaotic after that.”
“Did she work?”
“Oh, she managed to land a job in a wineshop and she was good at it. She learned about the business inside out. I gave her a little extra money when I could, and when I came into my part of the inheritance from my father, I set up a small trust fund for each boy. Dex certainly didn’t help out. He always said he would, but it never happened. And he worked odd jobs to avoid having his wages garnished. I’ll give Terri this—even without child support, she kept food on the table and a roof over their heads.”
“It’s never easy—even with child support,” I said, thinking about the first year I’d struggled to rebuild my family after my divorce. And I’d had a settlement to start my business with and to buy a new house. Most divorced women didn’t get a head start. Of course, I’d been angry enough to go after Roy, instead of slinking away meekly to nurse my grievances.
“No, it’s not. Unfortunately, the struggle to survive took a toll. Terri ended up resenting the boys for the extra work they caused her. I don’t think she ever showed it overtly, but kids are smart. Joe and Nathan knew she wasn’t happy. They had a string of ‘daddies’ who never stuck around. When the boys left home, she moved to California and opened up her own shop, but the steady stream of men and booze never ended.”
I gave Margaret a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re right. Joe is a lucky man. He’s got you. You’re one special lady, Aunt Maggie.” As I headed out into the night, I felt a flash of gratitude that Margaret Files had become such an integral part of my life. She was a champion supporter, and I adored her.
SUNDAY DAWNED PARTLY cloudy. We weren’t due for rain, but the sky was overcast and the temperature mild. So much for sunshine. I just hoped it wouldn’t be raining on the solstice. We’d planned to hold the wedding in our garden lot next door, with White Deer acting as our officiate. She had registered at one of those online ordination sites so that she could marry us.