Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 01 - Blood on White Wicker (6 page)

 
I shook hands with both Fred and Roger, but when I went to shake Mark’s hand, he raised it to his mouth and kissed it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

I could feel myself blushing.

He turned to Dave and said, “She’s everything you said and more. How old are you?”

“I just turned eighteen.”

“You sure?” he asked.

I nodded and stood there grinning like a fool.

Dave cleared his throat, “Jesse, get away from him. He’s Vicky’s.”

Jesse glared at him but then went around the table and grabbed onto Fred (Yuck). About that time Delilah came out and told us supper was ready.

Mark pulled out my chair for me, then seated himself. The conversation was light, and there was a lot of laughing. I planned to get drunk, but after one glass of wine, Mark took my glass and put it on the other side of his plate.

“Don’t want you to be numb, sweetheart,” he said.

Everyone laughed but me. As we were heading for the living room, I saw Dave pull Marty aside and tell her she had to make my run since I didn’t have time today.

“Can’t I join the party for a little while first, Dave?”

He slapped her on the butt. It really scared me because I had never seen him hit anyone before.

“Git upstairs and put on some jeans and make the delivery, Marty. You’re beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. You git on up there now.”

I caught Jesse’s eye, and she just shook her head.

Marty came down later, looking mad. She had changed into a pair of jeans and black leather jacket. She slammed the door on the way out. Dave had been in conversation with Fred, both with bourbon and cigars in their hands. They jumped when the door slammed, then just continued the conversation.

Jesse was sitting on the arm of Fred’s chair. Rhonda and Roger were standing by the window. He was whispering in her ear, and she was laughing. Mark and I were sitting on the sofa, and he was telling me about living in Houston and working for an oil company. He said he was a geophysicist, explaining that he explored for oil.

“It sounds very exciting,” I said, “You must really be smart.”

Rhonda and Jesse motioned for me to follow them. I asked Mark to excuse me, and I followed them.

Rhonda said, “We need to change into some jeans to go to the parade.”

I didn’t want to take off my new dress, but I knew she was right. I changed into jeans and a bright green sweatshirt. Rhonda had on a gold sweatshirt, and Jesse had on a purple one.

“Hey, we’re wearing Mardi Gras colors,” Jesse said.

When we were coming down the stairs, Marty came in with a man I hadn’t seen before. I had never seen anyone with black hair and blue eyes, but that’s what he had. He was good looking, bordering on pretty. He never seemed to look anyone in the eye but looked past them. Even when he was standing next to Marty and talking to her, he seemed to be looking over her shoulder. His name was Mike, and I didn’t like the way he looked past me with a kind of a smirk.

Now that Marty was back, Dave said we could leave for the parade. Dave explained to me that it wasn’t
the
parade because there were parades all over, and there would be until Ash Wednesday. But the one we were going to was on Canal Street, so we were taking the streetcar.

The parade was wonderful. There were so many beautiful costumes, so many beautiful floats, and everyone was just crazy. People would come up to you and kiss you on the mouth, total strangers. Then there were beads being thrown from the floats. Some were plastic, but some were glass, and they were beautiful.

They were also throwing what looked like fake coins, but I wasn’t interested in these.

I kept thinking that people were yelling, “Throw the balloon,” and I told Jesse that I didn’t see any balloons.

Everyone heard me and they cracked up. “They’re not saying ‘throw balloons.’ They’re saying ‘throw doubloons.’ That’s those coins. They’re collector’s items,” Jesse said.

After hearing that, I decided to get some of those too, but every time I started trying to pick one up off the ground, someone would slam their foot down of it, so I quit trying. When we got home, Mark handed me a whole handful he had caught.

When we got back to the house, Dave said, “Well, I’m turning in.”

The other two couples started up the stairs, and I asked Mark if he wanted coffee. I was glad when he declined because I had never really made coffee. I would have tried. Mark took my hand and asked me where my room was.

When we got to my room, he shut the door and started walking around the room. He picked up a bottle of Joy perfume, took the top off and smelled it.

“Dave gave me that,” I said. He put the top back on and turned around with a question in his eyes.

 
“When I made my first delivery for him,” I said.

He smiled his beautiful smile, “Delivery, huh?” I didn’t say anything.

I was sitting on the bed, and he came over and sat beside me. “How did you get involved with someone like Dave anyway?”

“Well…”

“Where did you meet him?”

 
“At the bus station.”

“So when you got off the bus, he was just there waiting for young girls getting off the bus.”

I became defensive. “He’s been good to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been there.”

“You’re a runaway.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. He took my hand and looked into my eyes, “I’ve read about so many girls like you. I think it’s so sad, Vicky.”

I felt like an idiot, because I burst into tears. I wanted so badly to be adult tonight and make Dave proud, but I felt like a little girl. He held me while I cried on his shoulder. He smelled so good and felt so good, like I thought a daddy would feel. I could never remember having a real daddy, and I felt like I had missed out on so much.

I cried myself to sleep, and the next thing I knew, he was easing me off his shoulder and laying me on the bed. I stared up at him, and he looked over and saw that I was awake.

“Vicky, you’re exhausted, and I’m pretty tired myself. Let’s just hold each other tonight. Then tomorrow I have to go back to Houston. I’m going to tell Dave that you’re mine now and that I don’t want any other man near you. I’ll pay him plenty for this arrangement.

“This is not the life for you, Vicky. I’ll be back in about a month, and I’m going to take you with me then. I would take you now, but I’m going to be traveling back and forth offshore to one of our oil rigs, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in my house while I’m gone.”

I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe my luck. I felt so happy. “Oh, thank you,” I said, with tears streaming down my face.

He smiled his beautiful smile, “You’re welcome. Now let’s get some sleep.”

###

Things went back to the way they were at the beginning. I was still making deliveries and making good money. One day Jesse and I were browsing on Royal Street where there are a lot of antique shops and art galleries. Jesse and I were looking at a painting in the window of one of the galleries that looked like someone had splattered different colors of red paint on the canvas. Jesse was tilting her head from left to right.

She said, “Looks like someone puked blood all over this canvas.”

I was laughing so hard that when I first glanced at a painting in the next window, I didn’t at first focus on it. But when I did it sobered me right up.

I must have gasped, because Jesse turned quickly and looked first at me, then at where I was pointing.

“Hey, that’s you! Girl, you’re starting to give me the heeby jeebies. First the necklace, and now this. Someone has for sure put the hex on you and I bet I know who, and I bet you know too.”

While Jesse was going on and on, I was studying the painting. It was me or a dead ringer for me. Not only that, but the girl in the painting was wearing a white robe and was standing with her arms raised over her head. The remarkable thing was that the whole background behind her was an enormous daisy. The painting was signed simply, “Julia.” There was a card stuck in the corner and on it was written, “Self Portrait.”

Jesse poked me in the ribs and said, “Come on girl, let’s go inside and find out what’s going on.”

She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the store. I felt like I was sleep walking.

The gallery was beautiful inside. The carpet was sea foam green and my feet sank right down into it. There were beautiful paintings and sculptures everywhere and soft music coming from some unknown source. A very tiny man with black hair brushed straight back, brown eyes, and wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt opened at the collar, came rushing over. He acted very excited. His hands were fluttering all over the place.

When he got to us, he took my hands, “Why Julia, darling, this is a treat. I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the summer. But then you have always been full of surprises, haven’t you? Did you see it there in the window? What do you think? I have tea in the back. I won’t be a minute.”

After he rushed off Jesse snorted, “Talk about a pansy!” Up until then I was too shocked to speak.

“What does all this mean, Jesse?” She chewed on her bottom lip like I seen her do when she was trying to figure something out.

“I think it’s voodoo, me. And I think we need to get the hell out of here.”

“Come on Jesse, I thought you were braver than this. I need you to help me. okay?”

“Well,” she relented, “But here, take this and hold it. I think I’ll be all right, me.”

I looked down and she had given me a rabbit’s foot. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I took it.

We were looking around the gallery when the little man returned with a silver tray and a tea set that It looked oriental. He put it down on a table in the corner and told us to sit.

He extended his hand to Jesse and said, “I’m Jean.”

“I’m Jesse.”

“So, you’re a friend of Julia’s?”

“No, I ain’t no friend of no Julia’s,” Jesse said.

Poor Jean, he looked so confused, I felt I needed to speak up. I cleared my throat,

“Uh my name is Victoria Masters and I don’t know who Julia is. We saw the painting in the window and came in to see what was going on because, as you can see, she looks just like me.”

Jean put both hands over his heart and said, “It’s remarkable. You look just like her, but now that I hear your voice, you don’t sound like her at all. Where are you from?”

“Bishop, Georgia.”

“Of course, the southern drawl. Julia has it some but she sounds sort of Texan or maybe like she’s from here. She lives in St Augustine, Florida now with her parents.”

He dropped four lumps of sugar in his tea and started stirring so fast and hard that I was afraid he was going to break the delicate cup. He just sat there staring off into space and stirring for so long, I thought he had forgotten us. Jesse and I looked at each other and shrugged.

Finally, he looked at me, looked away and looked back at me again, “Are you adopted?”

“I was never adopted, but I grew up in foster homes ever since I can remember. Was Julia adopted?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had any reason to ask. I would try to call her but her family is in Europe for the summer.”