Mary Alice Monroe - The Four Seasons

The tension eased a bit between them and Rose spoke from the heart. “Merry and I used to dream all the time about having parties. But we never did. It’s kind of sad when I think of that. The last time this house saw a party was your wedding and that was…what? Twenty years ago? Mom has so many pretty things crammed into boxes that no one ever uses. Platters and urns, punch bowls and coffee urns, china and silver. You wouldn’t believe half of what’s stored in these chests and cabinets.” She stepped closer, eager to assure Birdie that all would be well. “What are we saving it for? Let’s use it, all of it! I only wish I’d done something special for Merry while she was alive.”

Birdie frowned, but it was more with worry. “It’s a lot of work.”

“It’s all under control. I’ve ordered sandwich meat and all sorts of things from the deli and two cakes from Mueller’s bakery. Custard cream and angel food, Merry’s favorites. And cookies, too, chocolate chip and four-pounds-of-butter ones. We’ll have hot coffee and tea with fresh cream. Really, Birdie, it will be lovely.”

“You could have told me.”

Rose took heart at the tone of resignation. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

Hannah burst into the kitchen, coming to a halt as her eyes shifted back and forth between her mother and her aunt. “Is everything okay in here? Should I leave?”

“Yes, everything is okay and no, of course you shouldn’t leave,” Rose replied easily. She looked at Birdie and smiled. “We’re just having a disagreement about the plans for tomorrow.”

“Watch out, Aunt Rose. Mom is in one of her moods.”

Rose’s lips twitched at the echo to Birdie’s earlier comment about Hannah. She was pleased to see Birdie’s lips curve into a smile as well.

“Like mother like daughter,” Birdie said, surprising Hannah by wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a squeeze. Hannah wriggled out of the embrace and reached for a cracker to nibble. Birdie grabbed a cracker, too, and after a bite she said in an offhand manner, “The church service is still on, at least? I had to duke it out with Hannah to wear her black dress. I’d like to think the bruises were worth it.” She winked at Hannah.

“Very funny.” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Father Frank is saying mass and Kathleen Murdoch is all set to sing,” Rose said. “She has such a lovely voice.” She poured the crackers onto a plate. “Merry loved to listen to her on Sundays.”

“Good. And everything is as I arranged it at the funeral parlor?”

Rose hesitated, seemingly busy arranging the crackers. Birdie leaned forward so her face was close to hers. “Please, Rose, tell me. What did you do now?”

“Nothing major. It’s all taken care of.”

“What?”

Rose raised her head, flinching at the pair of eyes trained on her. There was nothing left for her to do now but jump right in. “I ordered a different casket, okay? I saved a great deal of money by shopping on the Internet.”

Hannah’s hand stopped midair en route to delivering a cracker to her mouth. “You shopped on the Internet…for a casket?”

Birdie looked stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding.” When Rose didn’t respond Birdie’s eyes widened further. “You’re killing me, Rose. I spent hours on this! I had everything ordered at Krause’s Funeral Home. Why did you have to change it?”

“Birdie, I don’t know why you’re so upset just because everything is not exactly the way you ordered it.” Rose’s voice was clipped. “You never once asked me what I wanted to do for the funeral. You just called up and told me what to do. I went along with it, as I usually do. But for heaven’s sake, this isn’t a change as much as, well, a better deal.”

Birdie put her face in her palms. “Please tell me there’s a casket for my sister tomorrow.”

“Of course there is. You ordered an oak casket, and though it was lovely, it cost two thousand dollars. I found one almost identical for nine hundred dollars.” Her pride couldn’t be disguised.

“Mom,” Hannah said in that teenage know-it-all voice, “you can buy anything on the Internet these days.”

Rose shrugged. “I’m on the computer a lot for my word processing job. When I need a break I surf the Net. It’s fun, relaxing. In fact, it’s how I keep in touch with the world out there. I find it absolutely fascinating. When I’m on the Net, I feel so connected.”

Hannah waggled her brows. “Are you doing those chat rooms?”

Rose didn’t answer, but she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Oh, no,” Birdie groaned. “You are, aren’t you.”

“What if I am?” Rose laughed lightly but her color heightened.

“You do know there are a lot of creeps out there that prey on lonely women like yourself.”

“They’re not all creeps. There are some very nice people looking for someone to talk to.”

Birdie released a short, sarcastic laugh.

“Lots of people are in chat rooms,” Hannah said in Rose’s defense.

“Not you, too, I hope,” Birdie replied with narrowed eyes.

“Sure I am.”

Birdie leaned back against the counter. “Good God, is there anything else I don’t know? My sister and my child are hanging out in chat rooms, we’ve got some casket coming in the mail and, as far as I’m concerned, we’re having a damn picnic in the house tomorrow.”

Dennis stuck his head around the corner. “Hey, in case you’re interested, there’s a chauffeur at the door.”

BIRDIE AND ROSE LOOKED AT each other for a brief instant, then in a flash, Rose darted from the table and tore off to open the front door as eager as a nine-year-old girl. A tall, blond man with a bodybuilder’s physique squeezed into a black suit smiled uncertainly.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but is this the Season residence?”

Rose looked beyond the man’s massive shoulders into the darkness but didn’t see her sister. Only the sleek red lights that trimmed the limo were visible along the curb. A shiver of worry shot through her as she nodded.

The chauffeur pinched back a smile and said, “My passenger told me to tell you to meet her in the side yard.”

Rose wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Behind her, Birdie stepped forward to ask in her imperious voice, “Where is Miss Season?”

The chauffeur cleared his throat and leaned forward in a confidential manner. “In the side yard. She should really come inside. She’s…well, she’s had a bit too much to drink.”

Rose heard Birdie mutter an oath. Dennis stepped forward and shook the chauffeur’s hand in a man-to-man manner. “Why don’t you bring her luggage right inside.” He looked over his shoulder, jerking his head at Birdie.

“Come on, Rose, let’s go get her,” Birdie said. They hurried into their coats and out the door into the night. Hannah was right behind them.

The snow had finally stopped and the full moon was as white as a large plate in the inky black sky. The light illuminated the clean, virginal snow in breathtaking beauty. Rose had always felt a particular thrill stepping into a stretch of new snow, akin to being an explorer discovering uncharted territory. Ahead, the path of her sisters’ deep footprints in the nearly foot-deep snow were the only marks scarring the frosty white. She followed them, trying to step in their prints, with a curious excitement in her chest. Around the wide front porch she could hear high-pitched laughing and shrieking.

Turning the corner, she saw in the moonlight a flash of vivid red hair and lush black mink against a sea of white. Blinking in the cold air, she moved closer. Birdie was standing a few feet away from the blur of motion, her hands on her hips. Rose saw Jillian lying in the snow, laughing with delight, as her mink-clad arms and her long, slender legs in dainty spiked heels moved back and forth, carving out a snow angel.