Libbie nodded, confused.
“The name means ‘turban’—maybe I should include this information on the card? What do you think?”
“Maybe.”
“The flower represents nourishment and strength. The king and queen of England used to boil and butter the petals and eat them for dinner! I’ll bet you didn’t know that,” Betty said.
“I didn’t,” Libbie said, tenderly stroking Betty’s arm. In the past, her “exciting” plans had included selling car designs to General Motors, game show proposals to NBC. Her failures never snuffed her spirit.
“She’s not mentally impaired, exactly, but her mind does wander,” Carla had told Libbie nearly a dozen years ago, right after they’d met. “I don’t know. I guess eccentric’s the word. That’s how one doctor put it, the first of four or five shrinks Mom took her to when she was little. He got Bets to admit she’d witnessed something awful in a park one day when she was two or three, playing with the neighborhood kids — a man yelling and slapping a woman. A couple having a fight, I guess. The doctor suggested this might have traumatized her, especially since our own father raised his voice a lot. But mainly, she was just born distant, my mother said. Maybe she didn’t want to be born at all. Edgar — he’s my boyfriend — he says certain spirits get pulled against their will into the world. Anyway, she’s always done just fine around the house, without medications of any kind, but she doesn’t go out. She’s unemployable. Probably unmarriageable.” Carla had sighed. “Soon after our parents passed away”—they’d died in a car wreck when Carla was twenty — “I resented like hell having to support poor Bets.” These days, she accepted the fact that her sis was a lifelong commitment.
“There’s some chicken in the fridge,” Betty said now.
“Don’t have time,” Carla said. “We’re just here to grab me a change of clothes and to drop off Anna Lia’s cats. We’ll be staying at Danny’s again tonight.”
Betty touched the scissors to her chin. “Cats, Sissy?”
“You’ve heard me mention Suzi and Robi? Can you watch them for a couple of days? They’d be in Danny’s way, and he’s not in the mood. We brought their treats.”
“Yes, oh yes!” Betty puffed her bottom lip — a goofy, pouting child. “It was so sad about Anna Lia.”
“Yes, it was,” Libbie said.
“Will you be okay on your own for another day or two?” Carla asked. “Still got plenty of food?”
Betty fingered a paper tulip. “Sure, but … Sissy?”
“What is it?”
“Sissy, Edgar won’t be coming over tonight, will he?”
“No, Bets. He’s in Galveston. Gone till Sunday.”
“Good.” Betty brightened. “Because, you know, sometimes when he drops by and you’re not around, he — ”
“What?”
“Well. He gets mad at me.”
Carla paled. “Mad how?”
Betty shrugged.
“Yelling?”
“Yes. About the messes I make.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Carla said. “I’m sorry, Bets. I’ll talk to him about that.”
“Okay.” Betty smiled, then went to find the cats.
“She’s looking good,” Libbie offered.
“Too heavy. That asshole Edgar. I’ve warned him about his temper.
Libbie touched her arm.
Upstairs, Carla folded skirts and fresh blouses into a yellow overnight bag. In the bathroom, Libbie filled a travel kit for her: shampoo, toothpaste.
Earlier, Danny had phoned Carla and said he’d meet them at the apartment. He was going to grab a late supper with Marie and her boyfriend, Ricky. He wasn’t ready yet for the funeral home. Maybe tomorrow.
“He ran into Smitts in the bookstore,” Carla told Libbie.
“What bookstore?”
“You know. The one where Anna Lia got the manual.”
“Oh my god …”
“Nothing happened. I guess Danny just had a few words with him. I can’t believe the cops are going to let that bastard walk away.”
“Maybe they’re right.”
“Libbie!”
She pictured the Visa receipt and Anna Lia’s scrawl. “What if they are?”
“It’s impossible.”
“What if we just didn’t know her?” Libbie said. “Not like we thought we did.”
Carla closed the closet door. Her hair and face, in the room’s slanted shadows, looked unfamiliar, impressions in a painting, remote from Libbie’s world. “Carla?” Libbie’s voice cracked.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking about the night Anna Lia brought Roberto over here. Remember, that first time?”
“Sure.”
“Didn’t you think he was hideous?”
Carla laughed. “All jaw and stalky ears. Like the donkey in ads for the Democratic party.”
“Exactly. I’d just met Hugh. We were in that silly stage, you know, when your lover’s perfect. Hugh was the nicest, handsomest man on the planet. Then, when Anna Lia showed up with Roberto, I just — ”
“I know. She’d made him out to be such a sex machine.”
“That’s what I mean. I guess he was sexy, to her. Like Hugh was to me.” She shut the travel kit. “It’s so easy to miss the mark.”
Carla closed her bag. “Hey. Hey, is everything all right?”
Libbie shrugged. “I don’t know.” She didn’t feel well. She’d been tense since the unsettling phone conversation with Hugh this morning.
“Tell me.”
She kneaded her forehead. “Hugh expects me to go ahead with the weekend plans we made, like nothing’s happened. And there’s so much wedding stuff. I can’t handle it now, not with all this about Anna Lia.”
“I’m sure he misses you.”
“He does. Of course he does.” She wondered if she was avoiding Hugh. He’d want to be intimate, and she didn’t know if she could muster the enthusiasm. “Maybe I’m scared.”
“Sure.”
“I know it sounds stupid, Carla, but you know what I’ve been grappling with all day … how well do we know anyone? I mean, really? Even ourselves — god, the way our bodies change …”
Carla walked over and massaged Libbie’s shoulders. “You’ll drive yourself crazy, thinking like that. If you’re getting what you need from a person, that’s good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And the minute it stops coming, that’s bad. Simple as that.”
“You and Edgar?”
Carla smiled. “Edgar. Well, Edgar’s a prick. We all know that. Always on the road, always yelling, making me wait for him like a faithful little wife …”
“So?”
“So … he’s a sex machine.”
They laughed and gathered Carla’s things.
Downstairs, Carla scribbled Danny’s phone number on the back of a deposit slip. She handed it to Betty. “Don’t lose it this time, all right? Call me if you need anything.”
Betty nodded. “Sissy, did you know there are ten thousand varieties of tulips?”
The hall light flickered. Carla’s face went white.
“What’s wrong? Sissy? What’s the matter?”
Carla glanced at Libbie. “I swear, she’s still here.”
“Who, Sissy? Who’s still here?”
“No one. No one, Bets. Don’t forget to feed the cats.”
The man’s a first-class ass, Nicholas thought, locking the door to his apartment. A guy that angry, who didn’t know he was angry — or why — was stupid and dangerous. Still, Clark was over his head with Anna Lia. He couldn’t have seen what a woman like that might pull.