Jess Lourey - October Fest

“I don’t know. Tell me again what you spewed toward the end?”

I told her. It didn’t get better in the telling.

“Ah. I retract my first answer. My best guess is that Wohnt has been telling people that you’re a nice girl who needs to get laid in the worst way.”

“Nobody needs to get laid.”

“Speak for yourself.”

I wasn’t going to argue. She was the expert at this table. I indicated the front of her dress. “Where’ve you been hiding those boobs, anyway?”

“When you get to be my age, you just roll ‘em up. Your cups runneth over even if it takes a while to locate your nipples.” She dusted glittery powder over her soft and wrinkled skin. “So you didn’t finish your story. What’s going to happen to that crazy girl Africa now that you got her confession on tape?”

“Kenya. And since she confessed again to killing Webber and her mom on the way to the hospital, I think she’s going away for good. Her dad’s found her a good lawyer, though, so you never know.”

“She say why she did it?”

I shook my head. “Not really. Just that she hated her mom and wasn’t going to let her continue to ruin lives.”

Mrs. Berns tsked. “Makes my kids look like angels for only wanting to incarcerate me in a maximum security nursing home.”

“Not kids, kid. Just Conrad. Remember that Elizabeth is on your team now.” I studied my fingernails. “You know what? When I think back to my conversation with Glokkmann at the jail, I think she knew Kenya had killed Webber and was hoping she would come forward on her own. Guess that wasn’t her best gamble.”

“I’ll say. I’ve been meaning to mention, you get all glowy when you talk about solving crimes. You ever notice that?”

I had. “Is it weird?”

“If you mean is it uncommon, most good things are. You ever thought about going pro?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this.” She pulled open the top drawer of her vanity and handed me a stack of papers from the Minnesota Private Detective and Protective Agent Licensing Board.

Just reading the letterhead made me shiver, in a good way, but I played it cool. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

She was right. I smiled and hugged her. “You wanna do the training with me?”

“Maybe. Depends how much work it is.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you, thank you! You know you’re my best friend, right?”

“I better be. I made you my matron of honor.” She liked calling me that.

I stuffed the papers into my purse. I’d have to read them later, when the idea of becoming a private investigator didn’t seem so big and intimidating. Besides, tonight was all about Mrs. Berns. “Are all your kids invited to the wedding?”

“Can’t remember.” Her voice had taken an ornery cast. “Say, did I tell you that the kitchen staff here cooked up your Eerie Ground Liver Pie for supper at the Sunset last night? That’s gotta be your best recipe yet. How’d you think of adding salted peanuts?”

I shrugged. “Creating gross food is my gift to share with the world. So you’re really going through with this?” The ceremony was scheduled to begin at seven o’clock, and her friends had gone on ahead to adorn the church with votives so Mrs. Berns could have the candlelit wedding of her dreams. Outside, groups of ghouls and zombies were traveling door-to-door, filling their bags with enough candy to make stomachs hurt for months. Long live sugar-based socialism.

“I’m wearing the dress, ain’t I?”

“You sure are,” I said. “You look beautiful.” She really did. Her hair was curled and her eyes were bright. She had lovely deep lines on her face from smiling and cracking wise.

“And I’m not getting any younger. Time to hit the road.”

I helped her up and to the car and drove the short distance to Trinity Lutheran. My heart was heavy. Bernard was more of a dink than a Mink, but she’d chosen him as the best candidate to guard her future until Conrad decided to leave her alone. I didn’t think it was a good idea, but I didn’t have the threat of a maximum security nursing home hanging over my head. I had to support her as a friend. She’d still find a way to be Mrs. Berns, even within the temporary confines of marriage.

Outside the church, glimmering jack-o-lanterns lit the steps all the way to the heavy wooden doors, and I smiled. Yes, she would always find a way to be Mrs. Berns. As I got out of the car to help her, I heard the organ version of “Thriller” filtering out from the closed church doors. I navigated Mrs. Berns’ wedding train and crutches so she could lean on me to limp up the stairs.

Inside, the church was full, beaming faces turning to take in the blushing bride. Half the town must have been in attendance. The interior of the church was magical, with the tiny teardrops of hundreds of yellow flames glinting off of the stained glass and illuminating the gold and white ribbons twining along the edges of the pews. The heady perfume of white roses floated on the air. Bernard was nowhere in sight.

Framed by the open church doors, Mrs. Berns smacked her crutch against the floor three times, like a gavel. “I have an announcement to make!” Her voice rang out, the organ stopped, and those few who had missed her entrance turned. I wondered what was up. We hadn’t discussed this.

“First things first. I need to speak to my children. All of you, front and center.”

Eight people stood and walked toward their mother, who looked imposing, even on crutches. Every one of them sported the hatchet nose they must have inherited from their father. They were dressed formally.

“Conrad here wants to send me to prison camp. Who else is on board with him?”

The church crowd booed.

“Mother, this isn’t the time,” Conrad began.

“It’s the only time I’ll get all eight of you in a room together. Lord knows you don’t visit on the holidays. Now, who’s on Conrad’s team and who’s on mine?”

Seven of them gathered around her, leaving Conrad standing alone. Whispers ran along the edge of the church as people craned their necks to view the outcome.

“I’m on your team, mother.” Conrad’s arms hung stiffly at his side even as his voice entreated her. “That’s why I’m trying to take care of you.”

“Conrad Berns, you listen to me good because I’m only going to say this once. I spent the first twenty years of my life taking care of my brothers and sisters, the next thirty taking care of my ungrateful kids, and the twenty-odd after that taking care of my husband and parents. For the first time in my life, I’m taking care of myself. I plan to make some mistakes, but it’s not your job to take care of me, it’s mine. Comprende vu?”

He tried to stare her down, but she didn’t back off. “You’re not going to listen to me no matter what, are you?” he asked.

“Ah, so you’re not a complete idiot.”

“Fine, mother.” His shoulders slumped and he looked for all the world like a sullen little boy.

“Not yet, it isn’t. You’re going to apologize to me in front of all these people, and you and the kids are going to all promise, out loud, that you’re never going to try to get me declared legally incompetent again.”

Conrad looked ready to protest, but the angry murmurings of the crowd silenced him. All eight children agreed that Mrs. Berns was capable of making her own decisions.

“Now it’s fine!” She said triumphantly. “Time to party! Let’s go.” And she turned toward the door.

Out of the corner of my eye, I finally spotted a nervous-looking Bernard off to my right. He was wearing a cheap tux over a ruffled blue dress shirt. He appeared to be trying to slink out a side door, but there was a firm hand on his arm, attached to a lean, hard body that went by the name of Johnny Leeson. Johnny’s face was grim but he flashed me a quick smile that made me shiver.