Going out was one of Mamie's favorite pastimes, and today was no different. She had her white-blonde hair pulled up on top of her head, leaving the carefully coifed curls free to dangle. She was in skin-tight jeans that showed off her shapely ass, and a low-cut top that showed off her big boobs. And, as always, she was wearing all five of her diamond rings, because a Texas girl never had hair too big or too many diamonds.
Her husband, Joel, was on one of his business trips. This time back to Portland. Or was it Seattle? She couldn't remember. But it didn't matter. Mamie had the most fun when Joel was gone. She didn't exactly cheat on him. She'd never do that. But she liked to flirt when she was out with the girls, and today, she felt fine enough to flirt.
She was trading lipstick colors in her purse when her cell phone rang. A quick glance put a smile on her face. It was Daphne! She and her sister were only thirteen months apart, and as close as twins.
"Hello, sugar!" Mamie said.
"I have bad news," Daphne said. "Mama passed."
For a second, Mamie felt like someone had punched her in the gut, and then she took a deep breath.
"Oh no."
"That's not the worst," Daphne added. "You need to know Gracie is pissed. We are not invited to the house early. We are to go straight to the funeral home the day of the services. Dinner will be there, and when it's over, we are all to go back to the house to settle things. Her words. Not mine."
Mamie's eyes welled. "Well, that's just awful. That's our home, too. She can’t—"
"We abandoned her, Mamie. Don't deny it. She tried to call you personally to let you and James both know but got disconnected numbers."
"Oh my God," Mamie muttered. "I guess I let time slip away from me after Mama couldn't talk on the phone anymore."
Daphne sighed. "Did you ever call Gracie?" Daphne asked.
"Well, no, I don't guess I did. But Mama always said she was busy, or—"
"Oh, for the love of God, Mamie. Mama lost her mind. Why would you believe anything she said then? She told the same story over and over, and then forgot who we were. I didn't call Gracie because I didn't want her to ask me to come stay. I didn't want to take care of Mama. Not even for a weekend, especially not after she got scary, talking all crazy. I will admit it right now. I sacrificed my baby sister for my own selfish life. I didn't want to know how Gracie felt living with Mama's crazy shit every day, because I didn't want to do it. I hate myself for that, and now I have to live with it. But I don't imagine time slipped anywhere for Gracie, so just be prepared for a cold shoulder when we get there."
Mamie didn't like being called down for anything, and she didn't want to talk about her failures, so she cut the call short.
"I'm just sick about this, but I have to go or I'm gonna be late. I'm meeting the girls for lunch. Let me know the details when you get them."
"You could call and ask her yourself," Daphne said. "She still has the same number."
"I guess," Mamie said. "But you let me know anyway," and then disconnected. She dropped her phone back in her purse, gathered up the rest of her stuff, and headed out the door.
She didn't feel quite as flirty as she had. In fact, she was feeling a little sick to her stomach, but she probably just needed to eat something. And staying home by herself wasn't going to solve seven years' worth of sins.
Chapter Two
Gracie went into the funeral home to sign papers, then set the date for the service on Friday at 10:00 A.M.—three days away.
"Will you have a family dinner at the church? I’m asking because people always want to know," Willis said.
"Yes, and I remember from Daddy's service that Mama needed copies of the death certificate, so I need to order some."
"Do you think five will be enough?" he asked.
"I will only need one, so I assume so. If anyone needs more, they can order them, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Willis said.
"Then, are we done here?" Gracie asked.
Willis nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow when she's ready for viewing."
"Thank you," Gracie said.
After Willis escorted her out, she drove straight to the bank and walked in with her sunglasses on, her long dark hair swinging down her back. The t-shirt and shorts she wore showed off the long legs she'd inherited from her daddy and hid a body just a shade too thin.
She withdrew a little over one thousand dollars from her mama's checking account, leaving $55 dollars in the bank, which would cover the $37.27 automatic withdrawal for her mama's life insurance policy one last time.
It was a bittersweet comfort to know she wouldn't be homeless and broke, but it was all due to Delia's need to make things right that the life insurance policy even existed.
* * *
It was the day after Easter. Everyone had gone home. Gracie was cooking breakfast when Delia came into the kitchen, insistent that they go straight to Sweetwater after they ate.
"To take care of business," Delia said, and so they did.
The first place they went was to her insurance agent to change the beneficiaries of her small life insurance policy from all four of her children to Gracie as the sole beneficiary.
"For you, and what you're about to give up," Delia told Gracie.
Then they went next to Delia's lawyer. Delia knew she was going to lose her good sense, but she wanted to put her affairs in order before it happened. So, she signed over her power of attorney to Gracie.
Gracie remembered then the feeling of life spinning out of control. This was all happening too fast. She hadn't thought—she didn't know—she should have—but it was already too late.
The last place they went that day was to Decker Funeral Home.
The whole trip there was, as Gracie thought of it later, a fucking out of body experience. She was standing at her mother's side, watching her pick out her own casket, and then sitting at her mother's side as she paid for her own burial expenses. Delia already owned the plot where her husband, Tommy, was buried, and her name was already on the headstone beside his. That's when Gracie finally gave up and cried, and Delia had just patted her hand.
"Don't be sad, baby girl. It's just me takin' care of business."
* * *
And now, baby girl was takin' care of business for mama.
No one challenged Gracie's right to withdraw the money when she went into the bank, because her name was on the account, and she never blinked an eye when she pocketed the cash and walked out.
Her next stop was the florist, and her choice of flowers for mama's casket was swift and simple. Pink carnations. Always pink carnations.
When they were kids, their daddy used to dance Delia around the kitchen, singing old songs from the fifties. "A White Sport Coat and Pink Carnations" was her favorite and never failed to make her smile.
As soon as Gracie paid for the flowers, she got in her car and headed for the Sonic Drive-In. Dirty house or not, Gracie had to get something in her belly before she passed out.
As she pulled into the stall to order, it occurred to her that this was where she and Mama had come to eat the day Mama had picked out her own casket.