Double Shot

“Oops!” he said with mock surprise. “Three old girlfriends. What’re you doing, plotting? Goldy, I need to see you. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He stepped all the way into the kitchen, put his hands on his hips, and announced in a low, threatening voice, “I. Need. You. Now.”

Before I could say “Tough tacks,” Courtney shrieked, “You bastard! I ought to—” She strode toward him. John Richard rolled his shoulders and got ready to fight. With sudden deftness, Marla picked up a crystal platter of leftover cake, stepped in front of Courtney, and used the platter as a shield. Most of the chocolate landed on the ample tops of Courtney’s breasts.

“You bitch!” Courtney cried as my platter fell to the floor and broke to smithereens.

John Richard pointed at me and said, “Parking lot.” Then he slithered away.

Courtney refocused her energy on the Jerk. She stalked out of the kitchen, chocolate coating and all.

Julian, dark-haired and efficient, pushed into the kitchen with a tray of dirty dishes. He glanced at the floor with its shards of crystal. “What happened here?”

“I’ll explain later. Listen, I don’t want to face the Jerk alone. The cop’s left. Would the two of you come with me?” I begged Julian and Marla in a low voice.

“Of course,” the two of them said in unison. Liz came into the kitchen and announced that Arch had left with his friend and his friend’s mom, and that I had said it was all right. I nodded, although with all the events of the morning, I had no idea what I had promised Arch. Liz said she would press on with the cleanup. Marla and Julian nipped along ahead of me, out the trashed back door and down the gravel path. Halfway down, we came to an abrupt halt.

Ted Vikarios, evidently having finished his eulogy for Albert, had planted himself in the Jerk’s path and was shaking his finger in my ex-husband’s face. John Richard, unusually for him, was speaking in a low, reconciling tone. Ted turned red, bared his teeth, and kept ranting. I could only make out a couple of his phrases: asking an important question and should be ashamed of yourself.

“We ought to go back,” I murmured to Marla and Julian.

“Forget it,” Marla replied. She put her hand on my arm and edged closer to the two men. “We’re just out of earshot. Maybe super-Christian Ted is upset by the Jerk serving time as a convicted felon.”

John Richard, retreating to his usual gracelessness, told Ted to go home and stop acting like an old man. Leaving Ted dumbfounded, John Richard trotted out to the parking lot. After a few moments, he revved his new Audi TT, circled the lot in a spray of gravel, and pulled up near the path. In the front seat, Sandee was checking her lipstick in the visor mirror. Julian, Marla, and I gave a fuming Dr. V. a wide berth and stopped short a safe three yards from the roaring Audi.

“I need you to bring Arch over in three hours,” John Richard yelled at me. “I got my tee time changed.”

Even if John Richard had shoved me and whacked my neck and screwed up the lunch food, I did not also need him to holler orders in front of the Roundhouse windows. Julian and Marla edged closer to the Audi. They crossed their arms and stood their ground in front of me.

“John Richard, did you have anything to do with a break-in here at the Roundhouse?” Marla called merrily. “Spoiled food? Mice?” Her voice turned sharp. “Did you beat Goldy up, you son of a bitch?”

“Goldy!” John Richard ignored Marla and raised his voice a notch. “Four o’clock! Got it?”

My ears burned. I tried not to think about how everyone in the dining room, everyone within a half-mile radius, could hear John Richard yelling at me. Could someone be so brazen as to assault his ex-wife in the morning and then demand she bring over their son in the afternoon?

“I’m busy,” I called. “So is Arch—”

Moving quickly, John Richard jumped out of his car, slammed the door, and strode around Marla and Julian to tower over me. “Let’s get this straight,” he announced. “I don’t care about you! I don’t care about how supposedly busy you are! I don’t care about your little schedule! I don’t care, do you understand?”

Julian darted around me with sudden quickness, planting himself face-to-face with John Richard and folding his arms. Although the Jerk was a couple of inches taller than Julian, the Jerk’s prison-induced softness was no match for Julian’s compact, muscled, twenty-one-year-old body. John Richard backed up to the Audi.

I felt the old panic well up. A lump the size of Pikes Peak formed in my throat. When I glanced over my shoulder, it was as I expected. More than a dozen faces peered at us from the Roundhouse windows.

“Get out!” Julian yelled. “Drive away now, or we’ll call the cops for the second time today!”

John Richard stood staring at us for a long moment, then got into his car. He strapped himself into the TT beside Sandee with two e s and roared off. He didn’t look back.

4

Whoa!” Marla patted Julian on the back. “Good work, kiddo!” Julian beamed, nodded, and walked wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen. Marla asked me, “So are you going to take Arch over?”

“I have to. At this very moment, John Richard is probably calling his lawyer on his cell. He’ll complain about Julian and about how uncooperative I am.”

“Want company on the drop-off?” Marla wanted to know. “I could duck out of PosteriTREE’s bake sale. By the way, you’re going to bring me something to make up for my loss of cakes, aren’t you?”

“Sure, sure. I’ve got brownies in the freezer. And I’ll be fine dropping off Arch, thanks.” I stared at the dust settling in the parking lot after the Audi’s departure. “Arch might have other plans. Do you think that ever occurred to el Jerk-o? This is so typical of him, I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it.”

In back of Marla, people streamed from the Roundhouse. I hugged my friend, thanked her, and limped back to the kitchen. From the dining room, the scrape of chairs, shuffle of footsteps, and gurgle of relieved voices announced the end of an event. Was I imagining it, or were people calling to each other in exultation: Ted Vikarios has left the podium, at last, at last! I glanced around for Ted and Ginger Vikarios, eager to find out what had precipitated Ted’s fury. But the Vikarioses had already left.

In the kitchen, Julian and Liz were loading the commercial dishwashers. What would I do without my two masterly assistants?

Julian stopped loading. “You okay, boss?”

“No, but never mind.”

“We heard John Richard yelling.” Liz’s large eyes were filled with sympathy. “Sorry he’s back to ruin your life.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Boss?” Julian again. “You’re going to have a problem, I think. When Arch left with the Druckmans, he said he wasn’t sure if you knew his schedule. He said he’d write you a note when he got home.” I groaned. Great. “Look,” Julian went on, “why don’t you let Liz and me finish up here? It’s no big deal. We can board up the back door, too. We’ve already figured out how to do it.”

“First I need to know how much the two of you spent on cheeses, meats, and salad ingredients. This function never would have happened without you. I’m not leaving until I get your receipts.”

Before they could reply, my cell phone rang again. Oh, great, a call from John Richard’s lawyer, already. Mrs. Schulz, you promised to accommodate your ex-husband with requested visitations…

It was not a lawyer. It was Tom. Finally.

“I’ve been in a meeting with the sheriff and just got your message,” he said, his voice subdued. “Are you all right?”

At the sound of Tom’s voice, something twisted inside my chest. No, I was not even close to all right. I wanted Tom here with me, wanted his handsome face, his green eyes the color of the ocean, his big body surrounding mine.

“Um—” I said, faltering.

“Goldy? Why did you call me?” The distant tone that I’d come to know in the past month crept into his voice.