Read Online Hearse of a Different Color (Hitchcock Sewell Mysteries) by Tim Cockey - Free Book Online
Authors: Tim Cockey
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each other for about ten seconds. It was Vickie who broke the silence.
“I’m doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Dragging my mother into the room. I really don’t know why I can’t get her out of my head.”
“Your sister has just been taken away from you. It’s natural that you’d want to turn to your mother.”
“And she’s not there, right?” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, that fits.”
A drunk driver must have been at the wheel of our conversation, because it veered across the road and for the second time in less than a minute went straight into another ditch. Vickie Waggoner was tensing up. Her green eyes looked at me pleadingly. My turn.
I asked, “How is the little boy taking all of this?” Not exactly a cheery icebreaker. But something.
“Bo? Oh, he doesn’t get it,” she said. “He’s too young. I tried telling him that his mommy is in heaven, and he asked if we could go there and visit her. Now, every time we leave my house, Bo asks, ‘Are we going to heaven?’ ” She let out a large sigh. “I’m afraid he’s starting to think that your funeral home is heaven.”
“That’ll twist him up.”
“I know. I … to be honest, I don’t know what kind of a stand-in mother I’m going to be for him.”
I considered telling her how I had been raised by my aunt after my parents died. It can be done. Done well. I let it pass.
“I don’t really know him,” Vickie was saying. “Helen and I … We haven’t had much to do with each other for a number of years now.”
“I had kind of gathered that.”
“She and my mother … they were cut from the same cloth. You know what I mean?”
“You don’t have to explain.”
Apparently she did. Her gaze rested on my Magritte as she spoke. Mine settled on her. Simple enough.
“I guess … I don’t know. I guess my mother tried, but she never knew what to do with either of us. She was a very self-absorbed person. She and Helen fought like cats and dogs, but you know what? They understood each other. I mean I’d actually get jealous sometimes when the two of them started in on each other. That’s crazy, isn’t it? But I would. They cared enough to rip each others’ throats out. I think … in a way, I think that was how Helen demanded love. She insisted that our mother pay attention to her, even if it was just to scream at her.”
“And you?”
“Me? I was the one who didn’t cause any trouble. I was the well-behaved one. But I was the freak. In that family, anyway. And meanwhile, Helen was well on her way to being so much like our mother it’s scary. If she … if this hadn’t happened, she would have been the mother of
two
fatherless children. Just like Mama.” She looked at me. “Did you know Helen was pregnant?”
“It was in the coroner’s report.”
Vickie let her hands rise and drop onto her lap. “Oh God. What am I going to do about Bo? I don’t know anything about raising children.”
“You’ve got to give it some time,” said Mr. Platitude. “You shouldn’t expect to be up to speed so soon. What about the father?”
Vickie took a slow take on my question. “The father.”
“The boy’s father.”
“Oh. Him.” Vickie shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said the other day, there’s not much to say. Helen hooked up with a loser. She actually made the mistake of counting on the guy for awhile. I guess you could say she learned that from our mother. Making the mistake of counting on losers, I mean. They were both tough women, but they were soft in the center. This guy Helen got caught up with … all he did was drag her through the sewer. You’ve got to understand. Helen and I grew up around men like that. Losers and letdowns. Men have always been a temporary thing with the Waggoner women.” She floated a weak smile. “It’s our legacy.”
I let that one pass. “You said that Helen never knew who her own father was, right?”
“That’s right. I didn’t know who mine was
“I’m doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Dragging my mother into the room. I really don’t know why I can’t get her out of my head.”
“Your sister has just been taken away from you. It’s natural that you’d want to turn to your mother.”
“And she’s not there, right?” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, that fits.”
A drunk driver must have been at the wheel of our conversation, because it veered across the road and for the second time in less than a minute went straight into another ditch. Vickie Waggoner was tensing up. Her green eyes looked at me pleadingly. My turn.
I asked, “How is the little boy taking all of this?” Not exactly a cheery icebreaker. But something.
“Bo? Oh, he doesn’t get it,” she said. “He’s too young. I tried telling him that his mommy is in heaven, and he asked if we could go there and visit her. Now, every time we leave my house, Bo asks, ‘Are we going to heaven?’ ” She let out a large sigh. “I’m afraid he’s starting to think that your funeral home is heaven.”
“That’ll twist him up.”
“I know. I … to be honest, I don’t know what kind of a stand-in mother I’m going to be for him.”
I considered telling her how I had been raised by my aunt after my parents died. It can be done. Done well. I let it pass.
“I don’t really know him,” Vickie was saying. “Helen and I … We haven’t had much to do with each other for a number of years now.”
“I had kind of gathered that.”
“She and my mother … they were cut from the same cloth. You know what I mean?”
“You don’t have to explain.”
Apparently she did. Her gaze rested on my Magritte as she spoke. Mine settled on her. Simple enough.
“I guess … I don’t know. I guess my mother tried, but she never knew what to do with either of us. She was a very self-absorbed person. She and Helen fought like cats and dogs, but you know what? They understood each other. I mean I’d actually get jealous sometimes when the two of them started in on each other. That’s crazy, isn’t it? But I would. They cared enough to rip each others’ throats out. I think … in a way, I think that was how Helen demanded love. She insisted that our mother pay attention to her, even if it was just to scream at her.”
“And you?”
“Me? I was the one who didn’t cause any trouble. I was the well-behaved one. But I was the freak. In that family, anyway. And meanwhile, Helen was well on her way to being so much like our mother it’s scary. If she … if this hadn’t happened, she would have been the mother of
two
fatherless children. Just like Mama.” She looked at me. “Did you know Helen was pregnant?”
“It was in the coroner’s report.”
Vickie let her hands rise and drop onto her lap. “Oh God. What am I going to do about Bo? I don’t know anything about raising children.”
“You’ve got to give it some time,” said Mr. Platitude. “You shouldn’t expect to be up to speed so soon. What about the father?”
Vickie took a slow take on my question. “The father.”
“The boy’s father.”
“Oh. Him.” Vickie shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said the other day, there’s not much to say. Helen hooked up with a loser. She actually made the mistake of counting on the guy for awhile. I guess you could say she learned that from our mother. Making the mistake of counting on losers, I mean. They were both tough women, but they were soft in the center. This guy Helen got caught up with … all he did was drag her through the sewer. You’ve got to understand. Helen and I grew up around men like that. Losers and letdowns. Men have always been a temporary thing with the Waggoner women.” She floated a weak smile. “It’s our legacy.”
I let that one pass. “You said that Helen never knew who her own father was, right?”
“That’s right. I didn’t know who mine was
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