'Albert is in charge of the flowers.'
'Have you seen Albert lately? Albert is drinking. Albert is locked away in his office having conversations with Walter Cronkite.'
'I'll talk to him.'
'No! No talking. It's better he's drunk. If he gets sober he might back out. And leave him in the office. The less time spent with Valerie the more likely he is to marry her.'
I could see Morelli losing patience. He wasn't much of a mall person. He was more a bedroom and bar and playingfootball-in-the-park person. My grandmother was yelling in the background. 'I gotta go to a viewing tonight. Stiva's laying out Mama Mac. I need a ride.'
'Are you insane?' my mother said to my grandmother. 'The place will be filled with Macaronis. They'll tear you to pieces.'
Morelli parked the SUV in front of my parents' house and looked over at me.
'Don't get any ideas about your powers of persuasion. I'm only doing this for the meatloaf.'
'And later you're going to play detective with me.'
'Maybe.'
'You promised.'
'The promise doesn't count. We were in bed. I would have promised anything.'
'Spiro's going to make an appearance, one way or another. I know it. He's going to have to see his handiwork. He's going to want to be part of the process.'
'He won't see any of his handiwork tonight. The lid will be nailed down. I know Stiva's good, but trust me, all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Mama Macaroni together again.'
Morelli and I got out of the SUV and watched a car creep down the street toward us. It was a blue Honda Civic. It was Kloughn's car. Kloughn hit the curb and eased one tire over before coming to a complete stop. He looked through the windshield at us and waved with just the tips of his fingers.
'Snockered,' I said to Morelli.
'I should arrest him,' Morelli said.
'You can't arrest him. He's Valerie's cuddle umpkins.'
Morelli closed the distance, opened the door for Kloughn, and Kloughn fell out of the car. Morelli dragged Kloughn to his feet and propped him against the Civic.
'You shouldn't be driving,' Morelli said to Kloughn.
'I know,' Kloughn said. 'I tried walking, but I was too drunk. It's okay. I was driving very slooooowly and 'sponsibly.'
Kloughn started to sink to the ground, and Morelli grabbed him by the back of his coat. 'What do you want me to do with him?' Morelli asked.
Here's the thing. I like Albert Kloughn. I wouldn't marry him. And I wouldn't hire him to defend me if I was accused of murder. I might not eventrust him to babysit Rex. Kloughn sort of falls into the Bob Dog category. Kloughn inspires maternal pet instincts in me. 'Bring him inside,' I told Morelli. 'We'll put him to bed and let him sleep it off.'
Morelli carted Kloughn into the house and up the stairs with Grandma trotting behind.
'Put him in the third bedroom,' Grandma said to Morelli. 'And then let's get to the table. Dinner's almost ready, and I don't want to get a late start on the meatloaf. I gotta get to the viewing.'
'Over my dead body,' my mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
My father was already at the table. He had his fork in his hand, and he was watching the kitchen door, as if the food would come marching out to him without my mothers help.
A car pulled up outside. Car doors opened and slammed shut, and then there was chaos. Valerie, Angie, The Baby, and the horse were in the house, and the house suddenly got very small.
Grandma bustled down the stairs and took the diaper bag off Valerie's shoulder. 'Everybody sit,' Grandma said. 'The meatloaf's done. We got meatloaf and gravy and mashed potatoes. And we got pineapple upside-down cake for dessert. And we put lots of whipped cream on the cake.' Grandma eyed Mary Alice. 'And only horses who sit at the table and eat their vegetables and meatloaf are gonna get any of the whipped cream and cake.'
'Where's my oogie woogie bear?' Valerie wanted to know. 'I saw his car on the curb.'
'He's upstairs drunk as a skunk,' Grandma said. 'I just hope his liver don't explode before we get you married off. You should make sure he's got life insurance.'
My mother brought the meatloaf and green beans to the table. Grandma brought the red cabbage and a bowl of mashed potatoes. I pushed my chair back and went to the kitchen to fetch the gravy and get milk for the girls.
Dinner at my parents' house is survival of the fastest. We all sit down at the table. We all put napkins on our laps. And that's where the civility ends and the action heats up. Food is passed, shoveled onto plates, and consumed at warp speed. To date, no one has been stabbed with a fork for taking the last dinner roll, but that's only because we all understand the rules. Get there first and fast. So we were all a little stunned when Valerie put five green beans on her big empty plate and angrily stabbed them with her fork. Thunk, thunk, thunk.
'What's with you?' Grandma said to Valerie.
'I'm on a diet. All I get to eat are these beans. Five boring hideous beans.' The grip on her fork was white- knuckled, her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes glittered feverishly as she took in Joe's plate directly across from her. Joe had a mountain of creamy mashed potatoes and four thick slabs of meatloaf, all drenched in gravy.
