“Ready to go?” he said to me.
His mother protested with surprising vehemence. “Oh, Frank, don’t be ridiculous! Don’t drag poor Irene all over town with you.”
He must have felt me clench his hand.
“Why not? If Bakersfield is such a great place, I ought to show her around.”
“She’s lived here before, you said. And it can’t be easy for her to get around in all of those contraptions. No, leave her here and let us get acquainted. Go on, shoo. I need you to get back here before Cassie comes over.”
He looked at the list. “You sure you need all of this stuff? With what you’ve got in the kitchen now—”
“Never you mind, Franklin. Now scoot.”
He eyed her suspiciously. I knew that look. He thought she was up to something. He gives me that same look when I’m up to something. But she didn’t waver in returning a look of her own that said there would be no further discussion on the issue.
He looked at me and shrugged. “Will you be all right?”
“Of course she’ll be all right!”
Frank kept looking at me.
“I’ll be okay,” I said.
And so it was that I was left planted in a couch while Frank went off to run errands. As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Harriman excused herself, got up, and busied herself in the kitchen for a few minutes.
She came back out and seemed nervous. She kept looking at the clock. I decided to try to get a conversation going.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“What? Oh, let’s see. It will be forty-two years in December.”
“It’s a lovely home. You have quite a collection of—” What to mention first? “ — of frogs.”
She laughed, and started telling me about some of them, where they came from, who had given them to her. We were both smiling when the doorbell rang. She suddenly looked very flustered, then went to answer the door.
“Why, Evelyn! What a surprise!”
“It is?” I heard a woman’s voice say. There was a murmur, then after a moment the voice said, “Oh. Oh. Yes.” Then the voice was loud, almost as if the speaker wanted to reach the audience in the back of a theater. “Yes, I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by.”
More murmuring, and then Frank’s mom escorted a truly exotic creature into the living room. She was heavyset and had blue hair. Her eye makeup was applied in such a way as to make her look constantly startled. Her cheeks were rouged in two bright spots. She appeared to be in her sixties. Her earrings were dangling papier-mache bananas. She came in smiling nervously, clutching her bag as if I might rob her. But she took in my injuries and exclaimed, “Oh, you poor dear!” and shot Frank’s mom a dirty look.
“This is Mrs. Parker,” Bea Harriman said. “She’s a good friend. She just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
“You don’t say,” I replied warily. Something was up, all right, but Mrs. Parker looked like a poor choice for a conspirator. She seemed totally at sea. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m Irene Kelly. I’m a friend of Frank’s.”
“You are? Oh, you might know my daughter then. Cecilia?”
My turn to shoot the dirty look, but Mrs. Harriman wisely avoided my eyes. Mrs. Parker was really lost now, so I said, “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Frank and Cecilia were so much in love. I tell you, he was crazy about that girl. Just doted on her. I’m sure Frank has talked about her to you. He was out and out silly over her.”
I smiled, admittedly one of the phoniest smiles of my life, and said, “As a matter of fact, he has told me about Cecilia.”
“Really?” Mrs. Parker was delighted.
“Yes. He told me that they were together for a few years, that he followed her to Las Piernas, that she went back to Bakersfield, that he didn’t follow. That he has no intention of following.” This last I gave special emphasis as I looked over at Frank’s mother.
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Mrs. Harriman meowed.
Mrs. Parker looked extremely ill at ease. “Uh, are you from Las Piernas?”
“Yes,” I said. I was trying to cool down. Mrs. Parker was clearly a pawn. I didn’t like the game much.
“Oh, so is your family from Las Piernas?”
“I was born and raised there.”
“Then why not have Thanksgiving dinner there, with your family?” Mrs. Parker asked innocently.
“Yes, why not?” Bea Harriman chimed in.
“I was invited here,” I said.
“Won’t your family miss you?” Mrs. Parker asked.
