Amateur Hour

Canned chicken notwithstanding, Lisa’s casserole turned out very well. Tuck did it full justice, consuming two helpings along with the green beans and rolls. He sensed that she wasn’t a Michelin chef, but the things she did cook, she cooked well. Couldn’t fault a single, working lady for not being a gourmet, he reflected. His own cooking was limited to grilling, microwaving, and boiling, for the most part.

While she quickly washed their few dishes, he put on the inevitable coffee, and dug the swathed bundle of letters out of his gym bag.

“I thought these should be buried with the Judge,” he explained, as she was drying her hands. I brought the diary, too.”

“I just hope you don’t need any more information, from them,” Lisa observed.

“Already thought of that. Will made photocopies, yesterday, of all of it.”

“Very efficient,” she said, setting out the coffee things.

“Turns out, the Judge kept her replies to his messages. So, we have both sides of the conversation.”

“Neither of them could let go…”

“So it would seem.”

Lisa fingered a bit of silk. “Have you read them?”

“No. I felt like we should read them, together.”

“I’m not sure it’s any of my business, Tuck. He’s your ancestor, after all.”

“Yet, he chose to speak directly to you. Went out of his way to get you to the church, where you could talk to him.”

“I was available. You were at home.”

“Blood or not, you’re part of this. Maybe it’s because of the promise you made to the dead, in general, when you got here.”

Tuck unwrapped the bundle, and glanced at the handwriting on each stack of letters, before placing one in front of her. He could see that she recognized Beatrice’s handwriting.

“She wrote, first, according to Will,” he prompted.

Gently and reluctantly, Lisa unfolded the single page.

“April 20: My dearest Gerry,” she read. “By now you have heard that I am to marry your stepbrother, Noah. I pray that you know that this union is not of my choosing, but at the decree of my Father. Father watches me, day and night, or has me watched, when his business calls him away.

“I am not permitted to sleep alone (Sylvie must make her bed on the chaise), nor to enter my own room during the day, without offering some plausible excuse. I claimed a headache today, in order to hastily write this to you. For a trinket, in exchange, Bethany will deliver it into your hand. Please send some sign of your receipt of it, that I may know she can be trusted.

“I long to know that you are well.

“Yours, ever—Beatrice.”

“April 20: My Darling,” Tuck read, in his turn, “Pardon the brevity of this note. I dare not keep Bethany from her duties any longer than necessary. We should, perhaps, conceive a method of communication that does not involve the use of emissaries.

“My affection and regard for you remain unchanged. I shall write more, when time allows.

“Your own—Gerald”.

They both took a moment to pause, and Lisa got up to fill two cups. Tuck checked the date on her next letter, then the one on his.

“Looks like I rolled doubles,” he said. He took a few sips from his mug, before continuing.

“April 22: My Darling Beatrice,

“After long consideration, I cannot conceive a more reliable way to convey messages to one another. I have, however, thought of a more reliable emissary. Emma has agreed to accept the mission, not without some relish, I might add. What could be more normal than one dear friend calling on another, especially with nuptials pending? After all, a young matron might have advice for a bride-to-be, that her mother might be hesitant to share.

“Naturally, we must now turn our thoughts to methods of preventing these very nuptials. In the meantime, know that I am forever your,

“Gerald.”

“April 24: My Dearest Gerry,

“I was doubly delighted to see dear Emma, this afternoon. Imagine my astonishment, when she passed me your note, with no fuss, at all. I do believe Bethany to be trustworthy, yet Emma does have more freedom of movement, and as always, I salute your cleverness. How her eyes did sparkle when she pulled your message from her glove, to slip it into my pocket!

“Unfortunately, I was overcome with yet another headache, shortly after her departure, and was obliged to lie down, in the darkened quiet of my room. I don’t expect the prohibition to last much longer. Mama is already tiring of granting me permission to retrieve things, as it was a whim of Father’s with which she does not agree, and does not care to enforce.

“I heartily agree that this marriage must not take place. Every fiber in my being rebels against it, and it is everything I can do, to appear meek and accepting.

“I must leave off, however. Noah is expected to dine with us, along with sundry other relatives, including Emma. I wish to place this note into her care.

“I remain your adoring,

“Beatrice.”

Lisa leaned back, in her chair. “A text version would have been a thumbs up emoji, and a lovey-face emoji,” she observed.

Tuck burst into a laugh. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?”

“Nary a one, Deputy,” she smirked, completely unaware that she had begun to read Beatrice, with a faintly southern accent. Tuck had noticed it, when she was reading the diary, aloud.

At first, he had thought it was an affectation, but as it continued, he realized that it was simply the way she was hearing the words, in her head.

“I hate that you’re right,” he said, more seriously.

“So do I,” she agreed. “Beatrice was probably a teenager, with an eighth grade education, and she was better spoken than today’s average Ph.D..”

Tuck nodded in regretful agreement, and unfolded the next note in his pile.

“April 25: Darling Beatrice,

“Emma came to me with the troubling news this morning, that you are to be wed in three days time. How like Noah, to take advantage of the absence of a church, to hasten the day. This, after lynching his own brother for the destruction of that very church, is despicable conduct!

“Why would your father agree to such a scheme? Whatever his failings, he has always behaved as a devout man. Certainly, he should be willing to wait until his community has had the opportunity to regroup, and the banns can be properly read, at least. Dearest Beatrice, what is he thinking?

“If your father cares so little, suddenly, for a sanctified union, you might as well elope with me, to be married in a civil ceremony. Would you consider it? My love, won’t you consider it?

“I will not be able to breathe, until I have your answer.

“Your loving,

“Gerald.”

“Oh, my…” Lisa’s eyes were wide.

“Well?” Tuck indicated the notes before her, with an impatient gesture. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Lisa’s hands shook a little, as she unfolded the next missive.

“April 26: My Dearest,

“My Father is angry with his favored daughter, so he is punishing his less favored one. That is all. In truth, Kitty has suffered enough for any misdeed she has committed, and I cannot speak more on the subject, as I prize her loyalty and friendship, and would not expose her to criticism.

“Yes, my love—I will come away with you. My only desire is to be with you, as I believe you know, too well. I am bereft without the sound of your voice, and the touch of your hand. I find myself in a constant state of chill without the warmth you radiate.

“I am still watched. Perhaps Emma might charm Mama into allowing me to accompany her of some excursion. Yet, I would not wish Emma to be blamed for my disappearance.

“Should I attempt to drug Sylvie, instead? Mama has laudanum, in her medicine chest, and it requires so little. If I could slip past her, as she slept, I could leave the house, unseen in the dark.

“Do advise me, Gerry, and quickly. I am resolved to do whatever I must, but I must know what you would have me do.

“Your loving,

“Beatrice.”

Tuck already had his paper unfolded.

“April 26:

“Attend to Sylvie. I will be waiting, tomorrow. Gerald.”

“April 28: Dearest Gerry,

“We were undone, and it is my fault. Sylvie caught me, as I was securing the laudanum in my bureau drawer. I tried to say that it was for myself—that I was indisposed, and I wished to be well, for the morrow. Naturally, she went to Father, behind my back, and he came to my room, just before nightfall.

“He went straight to the drawer where it was secreted, and stood over me, while I took it. Then, he made me take more, until I swooned. The last thing I heard was his accusation that I was planning an attempt on my own life, to escape my marriage, to Noah. I awakened on the floor, this morning, genuinely ill. I am sick in mind and body, and at heart, for my wedding is this afternoon.

“I failed us, and I will never forgive myself. Yet, I love you and will love you always,

“Beatrice.”

Lisa dropped the paper in her hand, pushed her chair back, and stood.

“Are you okay?” Tuck asked, not liking the look on her face.

“No.” She stalked to the front door, and yanked it open. “Stay!” she snapped at Gil, who was getting ready to follow her. It seemed to Tuck that the command was directed at him, as well. She left, without her coat.

Tuck pushed away from the table, as well, and relocated himself to the sofa. Gil hopped up to settle next to him.

“Don’t worry,” he told the dog. “She won’t be gone long. It’s cold, out there.”

Gil whined, glanced at the door, then at Tuck.

“That’s the point. She needs to cool off, evidently. We’ll just sit tight, until she gets back.”

Lisa walked down the walk and made a couple of laps around the small parking lot, walking off anger, at first. Then, she fell to pondering why she had been so emotionally invested in a sad drama that had taken place, more than a hundred years in the past.

It certainly wasn’t as if she hadn’t known how the story was going to end. Had she expected a miracle?

“Idiot,” she accused herself. She heard Tuck’s voice, reading the Judge’s words: ‘Would you consider it? My love, won’t you consider it?’ What must it be like, to be so loved, she wondered.

“You’re barking mad,” she muttered. Sure, Beatrice had been loved, and she had lost everything.

The breeze picked up, and Lisa became aware of how cold she was, but she wasn’t ready to go back inside. She wasn’t ready to try to explain her mood to Tuck, when she didn’t really understand it, herself.

She went back up the walk, moving briskly, and passed her own door. The sanctuary would be dark, but the narthex would be out of the wind, at least.

Eventually, she found herself seated in one of the rear pews, idly watching things resolve, as her vision adjusted to the darkness.

Was she angry for Beatrice, she wondered, or for herself? It had to be some kind of weird transference, identifying so closely with her.

“You’ve lost your mind,” she told herself.

“Have you?” the Judge asked. “You seem a bit unsettled, my dear, but not completely insane.”

“You sound so much alike,” Lisa said. “You and Tuck.”

“Do we? You know, your voice never sounds the same to you, as it does, to others. I fancied his was deeper than mine.”

“Not by much, if so.”

“Enough for you to be able to tell the difference.”

The Judge sat down next to her, companionably.

“True enough,” she admitted. “We…we read the diary.”

“Good. I knew you’d find it, and the letters.”

“You made it pretty obvious, where they were,” Lisa smiled. “Could you not move the bag of salt because it was salt, or because it was too heavy?”

“Oh, because it was too heavy, of course,” he grinned at her. Salt is really only a problem for malignant spirits.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we read some of the letters, too.”

“I expected you would.” He seemed unruffled.

“I’m so sorry. You loved her, so much.”

“I did. I do. There’s no sorrow in that. You’ve heard about building one’s treasure, in heaven, I know.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, the only thing you can take with you, from this life into the next, is the love you build, here. The love for your family, your friends, spouses, lovers—it all goes with you. Your half does, anyway.”

Lisa pondered this, for a while.

“We’ll be… returning the diary and your letters to you, of course,” she said, at last.

“Lisa, I’m dead. I’m not embarrassed by it, nor should you be. You won’t offend me, if you say you’re going to put them into that fine casket with me, before you bury me,” he chuckled. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by the fact that you’re alive, either, for that matter.”

“Do you like the casket?” she ventured.

“Very much. I’ve seen caskets change, over the years, you know, before the church was abandoned. They got to be a bit on the ostentatious side, if you ask me. But that,” he nodded toward the dim shape of the casket down front, “that’s very nice. Heartwood pine isn’t shabby, at all. Besides, I won’t be in it. It’s just a repository for my bones.”

“I think I might miss you, Judge.”

“I don’t think I’ll be far away. Besides, the business of the living is to live. Better you should focus your attention on something like…my great great grandson, maybe. There’s a project, if ever I saw one.”

“Be nice, Judge,” Lisa chuckled.

“Lisa,” Tuck called, from just inside the front door. “Lisa, are you in here?”

Lisa glanced to her left to see that the Judge was gone, but she could hear him laughing.

Tuck appeared, at the opening to the narthex.

“I just missed him, didn’t I?” he demanded, chagrined.

“You did,” Lisa replied. “But he said he likes the casket.”

She stood, and he helped her into her jacket.

“Well, that’s something, I guess. Not everyone gets that kind of feedback. Why do you suppose he pulled a vanishing act, when I showed up?” he asked, ushering her out, with an arm around her shoulders. He chafed her arm a bit, to warm her.

“The business of the living is to live,” she smiled. “Or, maybe two is company, three is a crowd?”

“You seem to be feeling better,” he noted, as they walked down the steps.

“I am. I just needed to cool off and get a little bit of perspective. I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“Not me. Gil’s a wreck, though. I’d have stayed to chat with a ghost, too. If I ever got the chance.”

“Don’t take it personally. It’s not you. I honestly think he just doesn’t want to impinge on the living. He was only keeping me company. I wasn’t fit for yours.”

“Oh, stop,” he chided, opening the rectory door. “Everyone has moody spells.”

On the other side, they took off their coats, and Tuck drew her close. It was a long hug, and not of the A-frame variety. This was a full on bear hug.

“Maybe we’d better break this up, before you fall down, Deputy,” she said, after several seconds.

Tuck laughed, and released her slowly. “Just trying to protect and serve, by warming you up, Ma’am.” He tugged at the brim of an imaginary hat, and led her to the couch.

“You sit,” she said. “I’ll get us a warm up on the coffee.”

The Judge’s casket didn’t weigh much more with his bones in it than it had, empty. The funeral was impromptu, with the letters and diary placed into the casket, and the box sealed. Will drove the nails with a nail gun, rented for the purpose.

Lisa winced, every time the gun fired a nail into the wood, but she realized that the sound of hammering would have been even more jarring. When he was done, Toni placed a small wreath of roses and lilies on the lid, and they all stood back, for a moment.

“I may be the only man in history, to bury his own great great grandfather,” Tuck remarked.

“He really did say he liked the casket,” Lisa said, slipping an arm around his waist. “He’d probably be touched by the flowers, too, Toni.”

“It didn’t seem right, to send him off, without any. He didn’t really get a funeral of any kind, the first time around. I wish we could have a minister for him, too.”

“Of all of us, you knew him best, Miss Lisa,” Will said. “Would you like to say a word?”

Lisa was taken aback. Extemporaneous speeches weren’t something she did.

“I— I don’t think I knew him well enough to eulogize him. I can say that he was a prankster, in a way. He tormented me with that cup, until I thought I was losing my mind.” Everyone chuckled and nodded. “But he seemed kind, and wise, and he had a sense of humor.” She smiled, thinking of his comment about Tuck being a ‘project’. “He was a man. One of the better kind, I think. It’s funny I think that, now, because he pissed me off, on several occasions.” There was another general laugh. Lisa decided to quit, while she was ahead. “I’ll miss you, Your Honor,” she said, resting her hand for a moment on the lid of the casket.

“Let’s give him a verse and a prayer here,” Tuck suggested. “It’s too cold and wet to be standing around the graveside, for any length of time. He’d probably not approve of us all catching pneumonia.”

“No,” Lisa grinned, “he wouldn’t approve of that, at all.”

There was a pause, then Toni spoke up, reciting the 23rd Psalm, followed by the Lord’s prayer, which they all joined.

“It’s not a proper Episcopal service,” Tuck frowned. “But I suppose it will do.”

“It can still be done, you know,” Lisa said. “The church makes provisions for funeral services for decedents who aren’t physically present. Or, they used to, anyway…”

Tuck brightened. “You’re right. Leave it to the lapsed Episcopalian to remember that. Thanks, darlin’,” he smiled, giving her a peck on the temple.

Their rain gear protected them from the worst of the drizzle, as they loaded the casket into the bed of Will’s truck, but they were all well chilled, by the time it was lowered into the ground. Will was all for firing up the tractor, and filling the grave, at once, but was vetoed by the others, who insisted that he dry off and warm up, first.

“We’re lucky for the foul weather, in a way,” Lisa said, as cocoa and coffee went around. “Otherwise, we would have had to have held off until it was nearly dark, waiting for the fencing crew to be gone. This way, you two can go home, and be clean, dry, and fresh for rehearsals, this evening.”

“We two? Does that mean you’ll be keeping Dad, then?” Toni teased.

Will nearly performed a spit take, and Tuck choked a little, as his coffee went down, the wrong way. Toni feigned perfect innocence.

“How are rehearsals going, by the way?” Lisa deliberately ignored the question.

“Our choreographer is a lunatic,” Will answered. “Our director is hysterical, and not in a good way, and the stage manager is never on time. So, about what you’d expect.”

“Does the Sheriff have a lot of dancing?” Lisa was puzzled.

“No, but the guy playing the Sheriff has several quick changes, from Sheriff to Aggie Boy Number 5. It’s community theater, and there are only just so many dancers, in town. It’s killing me.”

It obviously was doing nothing of the kind. Will looked amused and pleased by the activity.

“Then, there’s the matter of Toni’s wardrobe,” he continued. “So many fittings, for so little fabric.”

It was Toni’s turn to be nonplussed. Lisa hadn’t known the younger woman could blush.

“Yeah, you’re a funny guy,” Toni deadpanned. “Luna thinks so, anyway.”

“What’s she been up to?” Lisa asked, dreading the answer.

“Oh, nothing,” Will waved it away. “She just likes to play games, with the saddle blanket. You turn around to grab the saddle, and she pulls the blanket off, with her teeth. Sometimes she drops it on the ground. Sometimes she flings it. She’s fine, once you drop the saddle on her back. Some horses just like to play. If that’s the worst quirk she has…” he ended with a shrug.

“Speaking of blankets, they’re going to need them, tonight,” Tuck said.

“I’d better get that dirt pushed, then.” Will got up to put on his jacket and rain poncho.

“I’ll come with you, and wait in the truck,” Toni said, likewise rising.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tuck protested. “I was going to say that I’d go and tend the horses, while Will finishes up, here. Coming, Lisa?”

“Why not. Can Gil come, and have a run with Nickie?”

“Of course.”

Tuck didn’t stop in the driveway in front of the house, but steered the Jeep straight to the barn. The drizzle was beginning to look more like light rain, and the cold was penetrating. They found all five horses milling around in the near pasture, more or less waiting for someone to open the gate to the barnyard and let them in.

Lisa did, while Tuck fetched the blankets from the tack room. None of the animals needed any more invitation than an open gate, to find their respective stalls.

Emerging with a stack of blankets, Tuck nodded toward another stack, this one chamois towels. “Let’s get the worst of the water off them, first,” he suggested. “I’ll start at the far end. They don’t have to be completely dry. Just do your best.”

“In the stalls?”

“Yep. Tango will move any way you push him. Buckshot will step in whatever direction you steer her with her halter. We’ll do Luna outside her stall, this time. Black blanket is Tango’s, red is Buckshot’s.” With that, he grabbed a couple of towels and limped off.

As advertised, Tango obligingly moved over, at the least bit of pressure against his body, and seemed to enjoy being toweled down. Once centered in her stall, Buckshot didn’t move, and accepted her toweling quietly. She was shivering, a bit, so Lisa blanketed her first, grateful that her flapping and inexperience with the garment didn’t seem to disturb Buckshot, in the least.

It really was Buckshot’s blanket, too— it had her name on it, embroidered in black with stylized embroidered shot ‘holes’ embroidered after it.

Tango’s blanket was larger, of course. He was glad to get it, too, as evidenced by the nickering sounds he made as she draped it over him and fastened the front. “Feel better, big boy?” she asked him, with a pat. Tango shook his head and neck, and snorted. Lisa chuckled, at him, and at the long-stemmed rose ornamenting his name, embroidered in red, on the blanket.

Tuck was already leading Luna out, when Lisa stepped into the aisle way, closing Tango’s stall behind her.

“You want to check them, to see if they’re dry enough, while I start on her?” Lisa asked.

“I’ll check, to make you feel better, but I’m sure they’re fine.”

Luna didn’t resist her, exactly, but she did want to stamp and head-butt. “Well, stand still, and I can get you warmed up,” Lisa suggested mildly, stroking the chamois down her neck.

“Buckshot’s almost dry,” Tuck reported, heading into Tango’s stall. In a moment, he returned. “So is the big guy. This one’s a little fidgety, isn’t she?” He grabbed another dry towel, and started on the other side. Between them, they were done, in no time.

“This was one of the spares I had, on hand,” he said, opening the plastic packaging. “I have a feeling blue is her color.” He handed her the folded blanket, and gripped Luna’s halter, lightly. She sidled a little, but calmed down, under Tuck’s soothing words.

He was right, Lisa thought. The bright blue was definitely Luna’s color.

“Looks like it’s hers, now,” Tuck smiled. “Let’s feed up.”