A New Attitude Read online

  It wasn’t a lot of money but to Marilee, who’d done volunteer work for so long without receiving a penny, it sounded good. “I’d like to give it a try. I promise to do my best.”

  “I never doubted it for a minute. Now, let me show you around.”

  “Show me around?”

  “You know, in case you need to use the ladies’ room while you’re here. You’ll definitely want to know where the bathrooms are located.”

  Once again, Marilee followed Irby. They reentered the reception area, where Debbie was bouncing Bennie on her knee and talking on the phone. Irby explained Marilee’s job duties, and then led her to three individual parlors, one of which held an assortment of flowers.

  “This is where Mr. Elmore’s family will be receiving visitors this evening,” he said.

  “Dan Elmore, who used to own the Plaza Theater?”

  “The very same. I wish I had a dime for every time he caught me trying to sneak into the theater for free.”

  “He was up in age, wasn’t he?”

  “Almost ninety. But fit as a fiddle till the very end.”

  “How’d he die?”

  “Fell off a ladder while painting his house. His wife went all to pieces.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Said she had to go and hire a painter to finish the job.” He glanced around the room. “Yes sir, there’ll be quite a crowd tonight. That’s why I’m putting Dan in room A. It’s our largest parlor.” He showed her the other rooms, one of which was considerably smaller. “This one is used mostly for private funerals or for those who don’t have many friends.”

  Marilee thought of mean old Esmerelda Cunningham.

  “And this,” Irby said, opening a set of double doors, “is the casket room.”

  Marilee wasn’t prepared, and she took a step back. “Oh my.”

  “It’s okay,” Irby said, cupping her elbow gently. “This is not a very pleasant room, but there’ll be times you’ll have to escort a family in here so they can pick out something for the deceased. Some people are very particular and want to know everything, others will leave it up to us. Just think of it as picking out an automobile.”

  “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Marilee said. She pointed at a bronze-colored coffin. “That one’s nice.”

  “That’s our Cadillac of coffins, so to speak,” Irby said, leading her over. “Naturally, we put the nicest ones up front, hoping our clients will choose the most expensive.” He grinned. “Pretty vulgar, huh? But hey, I’ve got four kids to raise. Let me show you the satin lining inside.” He lifted the top section.

  Marilee glanced down and saw what looked like skeletal remains. She was only vaguely aware of the baseball cap and hideous smile. All the blood drained from her face, and she let out a scream. She raced from the room, praying her knees would not buckle beneath her, and slammed into Debbie, almost knocking her and Bennie over as she scrambled toward the front door.

  “What in heaven’s name!” Debbie said.

  “There’s a…dead person in that coffin,” Marilee cried.

  “Damn that Irby,” Debbie said, her expression dark and menacing. “He’s gone too far this time.” She grabbed Marilee’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s just a rubber skeleton.” Marilee was sobbing. Debbie shook her slightly. “It’s not real.”

  “What?” Marilee realized she was hysterical.

  “Irby Denton, get your sorry self in here right this minute!” Debbie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Marilee, sit down before you fall down.”

  Marilee took a chair next to the front door in case she needed to make a quick getaway.

  Irby appeared, looking sheepish. “Gee, Marilee, I’m sorry. I was just—”

  “Just having a little fun, right?” Debbie snapped, causing Bennie to cry. “It’s not a damn bit funny, Irby, and I wouldn’t blame Marilee if she told you to shove the job up your behind.” She looked at Marilee. “Honey, do you need smelling salts?”

  Marilee shook her head, feeling foolish now that she realized the skeleton wasn’t real. Nevertheless, it was a cruel trick on Irby’s part. She tossed him a menacing look.

  “I should clobber you.”

  “Go ahead and punch him,” Debbie said. “Lord knows he deserves it.” She tried to comfort the squalling child, even as she continued shouting at her husband. “This is a funeral home, not a playground!”

  Irby looked contrite. “I promise it won’t happen again, Marilee. Do you still want the job?”

  Marilee regarded him. He truly looked pitiful standing there. “I’ll take the job on a temporary basis, but if you try that sort of thing with me again you’ll be looking for a new assistant.”

  Irby nodded, shamefaced. “How soon can you start?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that Tate Radford was the best lawyer in Chickpea. Luckily, he’d had a cancellation; otherwise, Marilee would have had to wait three weeks to get an appointment.

  She chose a smart navy suit for the occasion. It wasn’t pure linen, but one would have been hard-pressed to prove it, because it certainly looked like the real McCoy. Her navy heels wore a designer label and would have cost a fortune if she hadn’t found them in a consignment shop. The outfit gave her a look of sophistication—at least she hoped so, because she needed all the confidence she could muster.

  She’d spent a sleepless night worrying about Josh. Marilee was sure that below his anger lay a feeling of loneliness and desolation, but how could she convince him to reach out to her? She was an emotional wreck just thinking about it. No mother wanted her child to suffer, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart, not when she was putting plans in motion to get him back.

  Later, when all this was behind her and she had a little time on her hands, she would allow herself the mother of all nervous breakdowns.

  “Mrs. Abernathy, you can go in now,” the young receptionist called out, startling Marilee from her thoughts. “Second door on the left.”

  “Thank you.” Marilee stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Tucking her handbag under one arm, she proceeded down a short hall, gulping in air as she went. The door opened and a tall, angular man stepped out.

  “Mrs. Abernathy, I’m Tate Radford.” He offered his hand and they shook before he led her inside his office.

  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Marilee said, realizing she had taken in too much air and now felt dizzy. It would be just her luck to hyperventilate in the man’s office.

  “Please sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair. Seating himself on the other side of his desk, he gave her an odd look. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you okay? You look pale.”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. This is my first time, you see. Not the first time I’ve been in a lawyer’s office, of course. I had to deal with my parents’ attorney after my mother passed on, but that’s neither here nor there. This is my first…uh…divorce.”

  He looked sympathetic. “Do you think there’s a chance of reconciliation?”

  Marilee was surprised by the question. Even if Grady wanted her back, which wasn’t likely, now that he had a woman who probably knew more positions than Dr. Ruth, how would she ever trust him again? He had betrayed her, not only as her husband, but by throwing away all they’d believed in, the very foundation of their marriage. He’d turned his back on his family and work because he’d lusted for another woman, simple as that. Worse, Grady’d taken their son into that woman’s house, where he and LaFonda were living without benefit of marriage. Not that Grady was free to marry at this point, mind you, but he could have waited, instead of flaunting the affair.

  “Mrs. Abernathy?”

  Marilee looked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Radford. This has been one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and believe me, I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about it. The answer to your question is no. I do not want a reconciliation. I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get out of this marriage as quickly as p
ossible. And I want my son with me so he can live a normal life. I sense he’s very troubled, and he needs guidance. He won’t find it where he is presently living.” She paused to catch her breath. “I guess you were just expecting a simple yes-or-no answer, huh?”

  “I want my clients to feel comfortable talking to me, Mrs. Abernathy. Is your husband, by chance, Reverend Grady Abernathy from Chickpea Baptist Church?”

  “He was, but he was asked to leave.”

  “That might prove helpful to our case.” Tate pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk drawer. “I’d like to jot down a few notes if you don’t mind. Now, you say your husband is living with a woman. Do you know her name?”

  “LaFonda Bonaire. At least that’s what she calls herself. Her real name is Betty Clump.”

  “So you can prove your husband is committing adultery?”

  “Yes. They’re living in her mobile home in Tall Pines Trailer Park.”

  “And he has your son? How old is the boy?”

  “Fifteen. His name is Josh.”

  Tate sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think your husband took Josh against his will?”

  Marilee looked at her hands. “I don’t know what to think, Mr. Radford. My son has been going through a rebellious stage for some time now. Our relationship was strained before he left. He may very well have gone on his own.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit that, even to herself.

  “I have teenagers myself, Mrs. Abernathy. I think divorce is hard on kids at any age, but it seems to hit them hardest in the teen years. Also, the boy probably has more freedom living with his dad, and when you’re a teenager that seems to matter more than anything. Have you tried talking to him?”

  Marilee told him about her trip to the school. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

  “He’s probably ashamed of what he’s done. Frankly, I don’t know why your husband wants the boy there in the first place. Seems like it would crowd the love nest.”

  Marilee shrugged. “Maybe he feels less guilty this way.”

  Tate folded his hands across his stomach. “I’ll level with you, Mrs. Abernathy. It won’t be easy getting your son back if he prefers being with his dad. After all, he’s old enough to decide with whom he wishes to live. If he were younger, you’d have no problem getting custody. As it stands, you’ll have to fight, and that’s going to cost money.”

  Marilee shifted in her chair. “How much?”

  “First we have to prove, without a doubt, that your husband is living with this Miss Bonaire. I can hire a private investigator to spend a couple of nights watching the place, get your husband’s comings and goings on video. As for your son, I’d advise you to hire a child advocate, someone who will do a home study of both residences and decide the best interests of your child. You’re looking at a cost of several thousand dollars, plus my retainer, which is fifteen hundred. Now, if we get into a custody battle, my bill is going to be substantially higher. I’ll need about six thousand dollars in an escrow account if we’re to proceed with the child advocate.”

  Marilee’s heart sank. She reminded herself she was doing it for Josh, and suddenly money didn’t seem to matter as much. “I think I can put my hands on that much money. My husband and I had a modest savings account, but he’s already taken out half.”

  Radford arched one eyebrow. “I suggest you get to the bank before he has a chance to clean it out completely. Once you retain me as counsel, I’ll arrange for a temporary hearing and request visitation with your son. The home study will take longer.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a file. “I’ll need you to fill out this financial statement and give me a sworn affidavit as to what led to the breakup of your marriage. Like I said, if we can prove adultery, I can have you divorced in ninety days, but should custody become an issue, there’s no telling how long it’ll take.”

  Marilee nodded. “I’ll have the money before you close your office this afternoon.”

  JOSH ABERNATHY STOOD AT the entrance to Tall Pines Trailer Park and waited for the school bus. On the other side of the pockmarked road, three teenagers smoked cigarettes and watched him. Two of them were his age; one was older. He knew the older guy’s reputation and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Every now and then one of the younger kids would make a wisecrack, and the other would burst into laughter. Josh didn’t have to be psychic to know they were talking about him. People had been making fun of him all his life. The preacher’s kid, they called him, as if he didn’t have a name of his own. Goody Two-shoes. Fatso.

  He didn’t belong, and he never had. Not with the kids who wore faded jeans with holes in the knees, and certainly not with the jocks, who ragged him in the shower because he’d put on weight over the past couple of years. He’d stopped showering, only to be made fun of in sixth period for being sweaty, so then he’d stopped participating in gym class at all. Instead, he sat on the bleachers and flunked the class each semester.

  His mother claimed he wasn’t fat, said he was just a big kid, but he knew he outweighed kids his own age by a good twenty-five or thirty pounds. When he wore thin T-shirts he could see the roll in his stomach, which was why he’d started wearing black, short-sleeve sweatshirts. His parents said he looked as if he was in mourning, but he didn’t care. Actually, he felt as though someone or something had died. He’d had that feeling for a long time now, although he couldn’t say exactly when it had begun. Probably it had started a couple of years back, when his parents had stopped talking.

  Josh heard the boys snicker, but he refused to look their way. Where was the bus, anyway?

  “Hey, lard-ass, you want a drag of this here cigarette?” one boy asked.

  The older guy remained detached, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.

  Josh ignored them. He no longer cared what people thought. When he was younger he’d go off by himself and cry. Now he just shrugged it off. He wished he’d stayed in bed. He wished he was invisible.

  He was invisible as far as his dad was concerned. All the man could think of was his new girlfriend. Josh wondered if his dad had lost it. One minute he was this respected minister bent on saving the world, next thing Josh knew he was banging some waitress and selling used cars at the Ford dealership.

  “You know, smoking speeds up your metabolism,” the other kid said. “Might get rid of some of that blubber.”

  “Would you two shut the hell up?” the oldest kid snapped. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m sick of listening to you. Besides, he ain’t messing with nobody.”

  Josh saw the bus in the distance. He hated school. Sleep was really the only thing he liked these days. As long as he was asleep he didn’t have to think about how screwed up his life had become.

  Sleep made him feel invisible.

  SAM BREWER SHOOK HIS head sadly as he and one of his crew took a tour of Blessing Home. “It would be easier to tear this place down and start from scratch,” the man said.

  Sam nodded. “I don’t know how they managed to pass inspection all these years. The wiring is so old it’s a wonder the place hasn’t burned to the ground. And the plumbing is prehistoric.” He shook his head. “God only knows what’s holding up the roof. The house is not structurally sound.”

  The other man scratched his jaw. “Needs a lot of work, that’s for sure. No telling how much it’d cost.”

  Sam sighed. He had so many jobs going on he had no idea where he’d find the time. He should never have offered to look at the place and get Marilee’s hopes up, because Blessing Home looked like a lost cause, as far as he was concerned.

  The last thing he needed was something else to worry about.

  RUBY, CLARA AND WINNIE WERE waiting for Marilee when she arrived home. A large pizza sat on the kitchen table, and Winnie was putting out napkins and paper plates. “Congratulations on the new job, honey,” Ruby said, hugging Marilee.

  Marilee looked surprised. “How’d you know I was hired?”

  “News travels quickly in this town,” Clara said.


  “That’s for sure,” Winnie muttered. “Can’t take a leak in this town without everybody knowing about it.” She eyed Marilee and propped her hands on her hips. “You look upset.”

  Marilee sighed. “I just left my attorney’s office. I had to hand over six thousand dollars.”

  “For a simple divorce?” Ruby shrieked. “Hell’s bells, I got one of those ninety-nine-dollar divorces. You see them all the time in the newspaper.”

  Marilee explained why she’d paid so much. “I had to do it. For Josh.”

  “Is anyone going to have some of this pizza?” Winnie asked. “I’m starving. I have to think of the baby, you know.” She offered the box, and the women took a slice.

  “Josh’ll come around, honey,” Ruby said. “He’s just angry right now, and what child wouldn’t be. Divorce is hard on kids.”

  Clara pursed her lips. “But six thousand dollars! That’s highway robbery, if you ask me. Did you wipe out your entire savings account?”

  Marilee shook her head. “There’s still some left, but I withdrew it and moved it to my checking account so Grady can’t get to it. I have the money my parents left, but I’m determined not to touch it. That’s for Josh’s education.” She shrugged. “I’m going to have to find a night job, at least until Josh moves in, so I can try to replace the money in case of an emergency.”

  “Who’s going clean this place and cook while you work day and night?” Winnie demanded. “I hope you don’t expect me to take care of everything. This is stressing me out. That’s why I hate getting involved with people who have more problems than me.”

  “I picked up a newspaper after I left Tate’s office,” Marilee said, ignoring Winnie’s remark. “I just scanned it, but I think I may have found something I can do in the evenings.”

  “What’d you find, honey?” Ruby asked.

  “They need someone to play the piano at the Pickford Inn.”

  “What?” Clara cried. “You’re not going to work in a nightclub? Oh, Marilee, you can’t be serious.”

  “It’s a supper club,” Ruby said. “Very upscale.”