Dickce, her own plate full, chose a seat at the end of the table opposite her sister, a couple of chairs away from any of Rosabelle’s clan. Benjy took the chair to her right.
The room remained quiet except for the sounds of eating. Dickce exchanged glances with her sister. An’gel gave a slight shrug. Even with their extensive experience in social situations, they had never had to sit down to breakfast after a murder and try to make polite conversation with a group that included a murderer.
What would Miss Manners do? Dickce suppressed a giggle at the irreverent thought. She checked on Benjy and was pleased to see that he was eating, and not simply picking at his food.
An’gel cleared her throat, and Dickce, along with everyone else, faced her.
“I trust that you are all enjoying your breakfast.” An’gel paused but no comments were forthcoming. “Clementine will be serving a light lunch at one o’clock. In the meantime there will be light food and drinks in the front parlor if you have need of them.” She had a sip of orange juice before she continued.
“I have spoken this morning with Chief Deputy Berry. She has informed me that she will return at nine thirty to talk to each of us again about the events of yesterday. She will be using the library for this purpose. She would like everyone to remain in the house until she has finished her interviews sometime later this morning. The weather will be inclement today. In fact, there is a strong chance of thunderstorms and high winds, so it is advisable that everyone remain in the house.”
An’gel sounded like a prison warden or a school principal—Dickce couldn’t decide between the two. At times like this, she was happy that An’gel was the elder. Acting the heavy came so much more naturally to her. Dickce glanced around the table to gauge the reactions to her sister’s words.
“I suppose we have to sit around twiddling our thumbs while we wait for our turn?” Maudine glowered at An’gel. “I don’t knit, and I don’t play cards. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to do.” She snorted. “Don’t you even have a television set in this house, or is it too modern?”
Maudine could hardly be more ungracious if she tried, Dickce thought. “There is a television,” she said in a pleasant tone. “It is in the library, however, so I’m afraid you won’t be able to watch it until after the chief deputy has finished her interviews.” She paused, as if struck by an idea. “The library does have shelves and shelves of books, though. You’re welcome to choose one to read.” If you know how, she wanted to add.
Dickce kept her expression bland as Maudine turned to her. “I’m far too upset to read, thank you very much. This situation is intolerable. I think you people are making a big fuss over what was simply a terrible accident.”
“That’s enough, Maudine.” Rosabelle’s tone brooked no argument. She folded her napkin and set it down by her empty plate. “You were a stupid child, and I’m sorry to say you’ve learned very little since. If you think what happened yesterday was an accident, then you have even fewer brain cells than I realized.”
Dickce exchanged an appalled glance with An’gel.
“Mother, how could you?” Maudine’s face crumpled, and she began to cry.
“Mother, you should apologize to her right this minute.” Bernice shook a finger at Rosabelle. “You’re not in your right mind. I think Marla and Wade were right, you need to be committed to a psychiatric facility.”
CHAPTER 16
The string of profanities with which Wade responded to his half sister’s ill-considered remark sent An’gel’s blood pressure skyward. She gripped the arms of her chair to stop herself from picking up the remains of her orange juice and pitching them in the man’s face.
Bernice shrank in her chair, and for a moment An’gel thought the poor woman was going to hide under the table.
“Wade Thurmond,” Rosabelle said, her face suffused with blood, “is this true? Were you plotting behind my back to have me committed to a mental hospital?”
An’gel feared Rosabelle might have a stroke. She had never seen the woman in such a rage.
Wade didn’t shrink from his mother’s fury. “No, Mother, we weren’t going to try having you committed. We do think you need to be evaluated by a psychiatrist, however. We all agreed that you may no longer be competent enough to care for yourself.”
“You all agreed?” Rosabelle glanced at each member of her family in turn. “Maudine, Bernice, are you part of this attempt? Juanita, Junior, you two as well?”
“No, Grandmother, I wasn’t part of it.” Juanita shook her head. “You know I don’t think you’re incompetent. I tried to argue with Aunt Maudie and Uncle Wade, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Viper.” Maudine stared at her niece. “Weak, just like my sister. Bernice doesn’t want to admit the truth about Mother, and neither do you.”
“Now, Maudine,” Bernice said softly. “I told you I thought you and Wade were jumping the gun. Mother has some strange notions, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be put in a mental hospital.”
“Thank you for that heartfelt testimonial, Bernice,” Rosabelle said. She turned to An’gel. “Now do you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you about my family? You see how they are plotting to destroy me. First it’s a loony bin, and then one of them decided on a more permanent solution.”
An’gel felt shell-shocked. Had she and Dickce been dropped somehow into the middle of an episode of All My Children? She had never heard such goings-on in her life outside of a soap opera. She didn’t feel capable of answering.
Instead she glanced down the table at Dickce and Benjy. The boy had lowered his head, evidently fascinated by the pattern of the china. Dickce rolled her eyes and shrugged. An’gel had a sneaking suspicion that her sister was, in some odd way, enjoying the melodrama.
Rosabelle didn’t appear to need a response. “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.” She closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and in a moment tears trickled down. Then her eyes popped open, and Rosabelle dabbed away the tears with a linen napkin. “You all should be ashamed of your treatment of me, your own mother.”
She declaimed that quotation with all the drama of a Sarah Bernhardt wannabe, An’gel thought cynically.
“Come off it, Mother,” Wade said, obviously disgusted. “When we were children, we saw our nannies more often than we saw you. If we’d been left to your tender mercies, we’d all have been naked and starving to death. You were too busy living the high life and spending your husband’s money.” He stood, dropped his napkin on the table, and walked out of the room.
“He’s right,” Maudine said. “You’re a vicious old cow, and I for one am sorry it wasn’t you who fell down those stairs. Marla was a horrible woman, but you make her seem like Miss Congeniality.” She pushed her chair back and lumbered to her feet. “When we get back to California, we’re going to get you put away where you should have been years ago.” She cast her mother a glance of loathing as she headed from the room.
“Maudie, no,” Bernice whimpered as she scurried after her sister.
“And so ends the latest episode of As the Stomach Turns.” Junior shook his head. “Grandmother, I’m sorry you had to endure all that. But you bring it on yourself. Juanita and I know you aren’t crazy or incompetent, but you act like a five-year-old brat sometimes.” He came around the table and kissed Rosabelle’s cheek. “Don’t pay any attention to them. Juanita and I won’t let them put you away.”
Rosabelle did not appear mollified by her grandson’s words, An’gel thought. Privately she couldn’t help but agree with Junior’s assessment of her. She could have told him Rosabelle had been a brat all her life, but now didn’t seem to be the time, she thought wryly.