By this time, Babs was almost doubled over, she was laughing so hard.
“In fact, you probably should be in jail right now.” Maggie stopped and looked at her. “Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t a complete sociopath!”
Babs screamed with laughter at the word “sociopath,” and so did Maggie!
A woman sitting in the corner of the dining room, wearing a pretty pastel green dress with a lace collar, scowled at them, then punched her husband on the arm. “Look, Curtis, both of them drunk as lords, and on Easter, too!”
After they finally were able to control themselves, Babs reached into her purse and handed Maggie a Kleenex and sighed. Then she said, “But what do you really think about me?” And they both started laughing all over again.
When they had recovered and could talk, Babs looked over at Maggie and said, “You may have cotton balls for brains, but you’re funny.”
Wiping her eyes, Maggie said, “Thanks. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings calling you a sociopath.”
“Me? No, I’ve been called worse than that.”
Maggie gave out a big sigh and looked at Babs somewhat wistfully. “Oh, Babsy, what’s it like not to care about what people think?”
“It’s great.”
“It must be. I wish I didn’t care so much, but really, tell me the truth… deep, deep down, don’t you care just a tiny bit?”
Babs thought, then said with some certainty, “No, I really don’t.”
“Truly?”
Babs shrugged. “No, like I said, what people think about me is no skin off my nose.”
“Aaah,” said Maggie, “but I think it is. I think it probably affects you in ways you don’t even know about and will probably never even find out.”
“How? I’m the top seller in the Southeast. How bad could it be?”
“Yes, but even so, I still think it’s important to have people’s good will.”
“Why?”
“Why? When something bad happens to you, don’t you want people to say, ‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ instead of ‘Oh, goody, she had it coming’?”
Babs shrugged again. “Don’t care.”
“Don’t you want people to wish you well?”
“Don’t care.”
“Oh… Babsy,” said Maggie, reaching for her drink and missing it, “you must have had a terrible childhood. That must be the reason you’re so unethical.”
“My childhood was fine. But while we’re on the subject, let me ask you something. How did you manage to steal Crestview away from me?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
Maggie was caught red-handed and had to admit the truth. “I know the man who handles the Dalton estate, and I called him.”
Babs was surprised. “Oh, really.”
“Yes. Of course I’m not proud of what I did.”
“Why not? I would have done the same thing.”
Maggie looked at her in amazement. “You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?”
“Me? No.” Babs looked around the room. “I think I’m getting hungry. Should we eat?”
“Of course, order anything you want… the sky’s the limit.”
Babs ordered her steak rare, and Maggie was not surprised.
After they finished eating, Babs said, “I don’t have any plans. Do you?”
“No, I’m free as a bird.”
Twenty-four hours ago, if someone had told Maggie that she would wind up at the Alabama Theatre, still half drunk on Pink Squirrels, seeing The Sound of Music with Babs Bingington, she wouldn’t have believed it. After the movie, when they were walking back to their cars, Maggie said, “Do me a favor, Babs: if you ever do buy our company, you can fire me, but keep Ethel and Brenda, okay?”
Babs smiled and said, “Not on your life,” and got into her car and drove away. Like her or not, there was one thing you could say about Babs: she was consistent.
Home for Good
AFTER MAGGIE HAD LEFT BABS IN THE PARKING LOT, SHE REALIZED again just how lucky she was that she had not jumped in the river. After all her long and careful planning, the serial number on that raft could very well have given her away. No matter what they said, there really was no such thing as a perfect plan.
When she got home and walked into the house, her phone was ringing. She picked it up, and it was Brenda on the other end. “What happened to you? Are you all right? I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been all day?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but I’m fine, better than fine… in fact, I’m just perfectly… wonderful!”
“Well, I’m glad you’re so wonderful, but you almost worried me to death. I tried calling you all afternoon. I almost came out looking for you. Why did you have your cell phone turned off?”
“Oh, well, after we had lunch, Babs and I went to the movies, and I had to turn it off.”
There was a long silence on the other end. And then Brenda said, “Have you been drinking?”
Maggie laughed. “Why, yes… as a matter of fact… I have.”
“Well… I think you’d better take some aspirin and go to bed.”
Maggie said, “Yes, Mother, I will. Good night… Sleep tight… Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Brenda hung up the phone and said to Robbie, “I told you she sounded drunk. She’s loaded to the gills. She thinks she went to the movies with Babs Bingington.”
After the phone call, Maggie decided that ever telling Brenda what she had really been planning to do today would be far too upsetting for her. There was no need for her to ever know. She’d get to work early Monday morning and take the note out of Brenda’s desk. But for now, she was suddenly very thirsty. It must have been all that Easter ham she had eaten for lunch and the salty popcorn at the movie. Maggie had just poured herself a glass of water when she heard the sound of a fax coming in on her machine in the den. She wondered who could be faxing her this late, and on Easter, too. Oh God, she hoped it wasn’t her cousin Hector Smoote. She walked back to the den. Just another fax from Miss Pitcock. The woman was like a dog with a bone. She was still at it, and on a holiday, too. Miss Pitcock had now gone online and was searching all the English and Scottish newspapers and the Hall of Records for any information. But after all her digging, she had never been able to locate a birth or a death certificate for Edwina Crocker. She had just faxed over a picture of Edwina Crocker at some reception in a white dress and wearing three big white feathers in her hair. Well, whoever the woman was, she looked like she was happy. Good. Tonight, Maggie wanted everyone in the world, dead or alive, to be as happy as she was.