Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Frank POV

Chapter 5

oOoOo

Edna had taken to removing the phone for short periods of time during the day when she was home with Helen. One time, however, since the phone needed charging, Edna had gone upstairs for a rest. All this excitement was catching up with her, just a short nap was all she needed.

"When I woke up, I could hear Helen on the phone, harping on about how "they've" been bullying and harassing her all the time," Edna chuckled. "I tried to figure out who was on the phone with her, but there were no clues. But she was whining so much, you know, in denial, with the 'Why me's?'. She still doesn't get it. Yesterday she hid the phone. I had to remind her that the phone was for everyone and particularly to consider the rare situation, you know, like an emergency. That made her put it back. She had hidden it in her apron pocket, the one hanging behind the kitchen door. I threatened her with grounding, you know, like no phone for a week. That scared the hell out of her."

"Where's Helen now?" I asked, nodding with Edna's observations, while thinking it was close to coffee time.

Edna looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. In the last few days we noticed that Helen was quite contrite after the public displays and performances, in addition to our double attack we instigated at home. Neither Edna, nor I, is naïve enough to think that was going to be all it takes. After all, this is Helen Plum we are talking about. Devious could be her middle name.

She's been going MIA for parts of the morning or the afternoon. Hm. She's up to something with this new secretive behaviour. Just a hunch. We've been monitoring her quite closely, Edna and I, still working together like a tag team. To be honest, it has been an interesting game of strategy, quite fun at times, like when I was pretending to be Edna's friend Millicent on the phone, so Edna could whine about Helen in the way she does about Stephanie. Helen still had lessons to learn. But neither of us was convinced that her contrition was convincing. She was definitely up to something.

"She might be in her car again. She's been spending a lot of time cleaning it, like when you get your cab detailed. On Monday she drove to the hardware store and bought a bunch of car care products, including a smaller squeegee for the car windows. On Tuesday she visited her friend Carla Barroni for morning coffee. Wednesday, she met up with … Thelma Klapp for the afternoon. Usually they just talk on the phone, but Helen says it's nice to catch up in person."

I nodded, "I agree, Edna. I'm beginning to think that this behaviour is somewhat unusual, and rather out of character. Yes, very unusual. If they didn't talk on the phone, they would catch up at church or the cake stall. Since Sunday's pot roast night, in lieu of the Friday night fiasco, she seems to have settled down. I wonder. It could just be a front while she was scheming a new tactic."

"Yes. You might be right there. This morning, over an hour ago, she grabbed the vacuum cleaner and the longer extension cord from the garage. Yesterday, after she washed the windows, she washed the car windows, too, inside and out. The day before she was polishing the rims, the trim and the grill and anything that wasn't shiny enough for her. She's been very fastidious with her car lately. But, you know, all this attention on her car is quite out of character for Helen."

"Yes. I have to agree, Edna. I'll go and check on her progress. It's coffee time."

I stopped in my tracks before I even got to the front door.

"Barroni? Did you say Barroni? The ones who live on Fulton Street?"

"Yes, Carla Barroni. Just around the corner from where Angie Morelli lives."

I growled.

"Frank? What is it?"

"I took the Barroni's to the airport on Monday morning, early. Carla and Roberto were heading south, visiting family in Florida, for a wedding."

"So, you're telling me that Carla Barroni was not home on Tuesday? Like nobody was at home?"

I nodded.

"Uh oh!"

Sure enough, Helen was in the car. All the chrome trimmings and the wheel rims were sparkling clean, as were the windows, like it was showroom ready. The vacuum cleaner was already packed, ready to take inside, with the extension cord wound neatly ready to hang on its usual hook in the garage. When I looked inside the car, she was slumped in the back seat, sleeping, a packet of chewable mints in her opened hand. Oh hell! However, my initial concern was quickly overturned. She was fine. However, my nose detected another smell. Yes, there was one of those air freshener Christmas trees dangling off the rear vision mirror, but there was no doubt about the other smell.

Making out like I only just arrived, I called to her, "Helen. Don't you think it's coffee time? The car is sparkling. You've done a mighty job. Come on. Your mother has put the coffee on. I'll take the vacuum cleaner inside for you."

Just as I suspected, she jolted awake, in shock to be found, but I pretended not to notice. She quickly glanced around and surreptitiously scrambled to hide the other incriminating evidence. Ah. There you go. I now know that new hiding spot. With a quick tidy of her hair, she popped two mints into her mouth and two more before we got to the porch after she put the extension cord away. I held the front door open for her as she quickly walked in only to rush up the stairs to the bathroom, muttering about needing to freshen up. Yep. No doubt about it, as I caught a whiff of alcohol, camouflaged with mints.

I signalled to Edna, the universal sign for drinking from a glass. I suspect it was directly from a flask from what I could just see, since there was no cup, mug, bottle or glass to be seen.

"No!" Edna gasped. "I wondered why she was sneaking around so much. Did you find her stash?"

Hearing Helen come down the stairs, all smiles, and rubbing her hands in anticipation of a nice hot cup of coffee, I raised one eyebrow at Edna. "Flask." Her eyes widened followed by a disgruntled glare.

"Let's have a slice of that nice Entenmann's Coffee cake," Helen suggested as she took some cake plates from the cupboard and added some of her nice cookies.

We enjoyed our morning coffee, cake and cookies. I decided not to confront her yet. Edna and I were on the same page.

"You've been busy with the car this week, Helen," I remarked.

"Yes. I thought the Buick deserved a birthday, like when you get the cab detailed each month." I just smiled and nodded. A small bit of toothpaste was still on her chin which Edna discreetly gestured. A quick wipe with the serviette and the evidence was gone. Mints, toothpaste. My oh my. She's at it again. No doubt about it.

"I'm going to drive to the Italian Peoples Bakery for some fresh bread and then to Giovichinni's Deli for some fresh deli meats. Gina told me last week that a special order direct from Italy was coming in late this morning."

Helen went by herself, while Edna and I cleaned up and set the table for lunch. She knew I wanted her here to strategise a new plan.

"So? What did you find?" Edna asked eagerly as she put the lunch plates on the table.

I explained how I found her. "She was slumped in the back seat, passed out, with a packet of mints in her open hand. She popped two in her mouth quickly and then two more when she got to the porch. The new smells were very distinctive, like the dangling Christmas tree air freshener. But there was no doubt about the other smell which she was trying to cover up."

"She's drinking again? Damnit! I thought she was. But there is no stash in the kitchen or the laundry, nor in any of the rooms upstairs. I have been checking. It must be somewhere else. Come to think of it, she has been spending an inordinate amount of time in the garage and especially in her car."

"You're absolutely right there. While you set up for lunch, I'll check the garage quickly before she returns."

"Right."

I stood at the garage door entrance and surveyed the inside for anything new or unusual, something out of place maybe. Things were pretty much where they should be, I like to keep the garage tidy and organised, except for the box with her car cleaning kit, the square bucket and cleaning paraphernalia. Hm. That was new, right beside her general window cleaning equipment. It looked neat and innocent enough. I checked the driveway, and, I can't believe I'm admitting this, the neighbours! Interesting. She had chosen a discreet spot so her actions would not be conspicuous from an outside view. Underneath the bucket, which sat on a box, I found newspaper sheets, all ready for scrunching as part of her secret window cleaning method. She swore by the use of newsprint in making the window cleaning process effective and streaky free. Sure enough, there was the bottle of vinegar beside the box. I opened the lid and took a whiff, just to be sure. I was disappointed, it was in fact vinegar. From the shelf above, hanging neatly on hooks, were her outdoor brooms, and other tools for window cleaning, and then her larger gardening tools. I checked inside the little sideboard where she had empty pots neatly stacked on top with a couple of spray bottles, and seed packets in a small square biscuit tin.

Inside one of the drawers were her smaller gardening tools, clean and neatly arranged in rows with the sharp ends pointing to the back: secateurs, small garden shears, and the trowel three piece set. In the other drawer were her cleaning gloves, gardening gloves, gardening apron and … hello! What have we here? I groaned. Yes, Helen Devious Plum. You have a new hiding place. Unwrapping the towel was a small flask. Then I noticed her special garden tote bag hanging by two hooks, above the little sideboard, the pretty floral one that Stephanie had bought for her birthday many years ago. It all looked innocent enough. I tapped the pockets, three in front with other tools, two pockets on either side, and three … shit! Ah. One of the side pockets had a funnel. Funny that. I reckon I know why, sniffing it before returning it into its pocket. Confirmation. The three back pockets had a flask hidden in each one. Damnit! I glanced around. There had to be more. The view was screened by the neighbour's hedge. I checked my watch. Time to go. She'll be home shortly. I made sure everything was back in position and rushed inside to wash my hands and report my findings to Edna.

I explained what I discovered in the garage. "Tsk. Darn it, Frank. She promised us. We're going to have to confront her again about this. As soon as she returns, while Helen and I put everything on the table, go and check her car. I bet her main supply must be stashed in the boot of the car. If you only found flasks … Besides, where did you say she had the other one hidden?"

"In the middle of the back seat, you know, how the arm rest comes down. It was half exposed in there. When she hopped out of the car, the arm rest was up and the flask had disappeared."

Helen arrived, unloading her shopping bags onto the driveway beside the car before quickly shutting the boot, dropping the car keys in the process. She was looking very happy with her purchases, opening her shopping bags in delight. "Smell this delicious Italian sausage," she gloated. "Nice and spicy. And this salami. I bought some extra."

I helped her carry the bags inside, picking up and keeping the keys in my pocket.

While Edna and Helen arranged the luncheon platters, I silently slipped back outside. "I'll just lock up the car." She stilled for a moment, but composed herself when Edna distracted her by admiring the large bottle of pickled vegetables. Good timing, Edna.

"Giardiniera! Oh! Helen. These look delicious. And the marinated mushrooms too. Omigosh, these olives, too, and tapenade! You did well, Helen." Edna beamed, genuinely happy with the extra purchases.

Damnit. That's too obvious. So, I clicked the lock button on her key ring from the front door, and hung it on the key rack in its customary place. Helen relaxed instantly. A new strategy is needed before she has a chance to relocate her stash. I suppose it's like giving her enough rope to … you know.

Lunch was a sumptuous feast of tasty Italian fare. I couldn't criticise her selection, nor could Edna. Helen had excelled herself. She's onto us, methinks. Yes, devious. We have to be more than a step ahead. Ploy and counter ploy. Last time we discovered her hiding places, all in-house, so she knows we would check them first. Helen Devious Plum, you are being cunning. We'll play that game and match it. Game on!

While Helen was in the bathroom upstairs, I signalled to Edna. "Can you check on Thelma Klapp for me? If the Barroni's have gone south to Florida, could it be that Thelma is also away, perhaps?"

"Aha! I see where you're going with this. Good thinking Frank. I'm on it."

While I sat in my armchair, Edna was on the phone to her network, her Secret Circle, casually asking about who was where and who was going elsewhere, out of Trenton or out of state. To keep up appearances, she added that two of her friends were in hospital, one tending to an elderly family member. Edna and Thelma's oldest sister Louisa, were often at the Clip 'n Curl for their hair styling on the same day, and she was a good source to tap. Sure enough, the smirk accompanying a thumbs up indicated she had struck gold as she disconnected from her call.

"You must be psychic," she whispered, glancing furtively upstairs, as she grabbed a magazine quickly sitting on the sofa, while I worked on my cryptic crossword from today's Trenton Times.

"Hm. There are four states beginning with A," I muttered, feigning that I was thinking out loud, looking at the crossword before Helen started down the stairs. "Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas and Alabama. That's AK, AZ, AR and AL. Hm…"

Sure enough, Helen was going to visit some friends this afternoon. Again, with the vague secrecy, which automatically had us on alert. I raised my eyebrows at Edna.

"You have a fare this afternoon, don't you Frank?" Edna said with a subtle reminder.

"Oh yes. Thank you, Edna. I'd better be off."

I left, awaiting the call from Edna to find out where Helen was planning to go. I guessed she would "visit" her friend Carla Barroni, again. Since we hadn't called her on it, she had no idea that we knew the Barronis were in Florida. Sure enough, Edna confirmed, so I drove and waited in the parking lot of the nearby park to see if she drove by. Ten minutes later, there she was. She parked in their driveway, got out and walked to check their mail, removing the junk mail but keeping the letters and bills. She disposed of the junk mail in their rubbish bin, before putting their mail in the boot of her car. Helen rummaged about, putting them in a bag. Through my binoculars from my elevated position, I saw what I had already guessed, a flask in her hand from another bag, one of her shopping bags which was stashed at the back. From a bottle which she unrolled from a towel, she quickly refilled two more flasks as well as the one from which she already drank, and shoved them into that space where the armrest comes down in the back seat with a hidden sliding partition. She always kept the boot space tidy, with just a box storing her neatly folded shopping bags and an umbrella. No plastic shopping bags for my Helen! She glanced around quickly, then undid the cap and took a quick swig before slamming down the boot lid and walking to the driver's side, with said flask. Needing the evidence, I was taking photos. Gotcha baby. I sighed. I no longer felt bad or guilty about this … we've already done this route. But this time I have photographic proof.

Why didn't she just say she was collecting their mail while they were away? Tsk. Silly girl.

I followed her to the next destination, keeping back about four cars, sometimes five. Sure enough, she arrived at the Knapp residence and did the same, including another refill of another flask, an unassuming tartan vacuum flask. So now she had one flask up front with her, and two in her secret hidey hole in the back seat, plus the vacuum flask. Oh, Helen. This is bad. Each time she tightly rolled up the bottle in the towel and hid it in the back of that box of shopping bags.

Her next destination was a small coffee shop at a strip mall from where she emerged with a take-away coffee and a small paper bag, presumably with a pastry of sorts. Following her at a distance again, her next destination was no surprise as she indicated to turn into the parking lot of the park with the pond, the one with those wretched geese, the same ones that chased Stephanie some years back.

Helen donned a hat and sunglasses, carried a floral tote bag to a picnic table, sweeping it clean until it met her standards of approval. Setting a cloth down first on the table, which made me roll my eyes while shaking my head, she removed the flask and the pastry bag from within and then set down her coffee cup. Taking a few sips of the coffee, looked normal enough. But I was surprised that after a couple of furtive glances around, she suddenly tipped the coffee out onto the grass. Opening the vacuum flask, she filled the paper cup and sighed as she drank, while eating her Danish pastry. From her bag she grabbed a magazine and read, like any regular person would do at a picnic table in the park on their own.

I noted that the take-away coffee cup held more than a regular cup from home. After two cups full of her "coffee", Helen checked her watch and packed up, shaking and then folding her cloth neatly, before walking back to her car, putting the empty paper cup, its lid and the pastry bag in the bin beside the parking lot.

On the way home, it was evident that she was driving cautiously, avoiding the main streets. I was four cars back, knowing she was on her way home. Regardless of her caution, a police cruiser had pulled her over. I drove past but made a U-turn to park on the other side so I could watch the proceedings. By this time Helen was remonstrating as they held the breathalyser to her. I could imagine the "Why me's", as I read her lips and that typical body language. That was the last photo I took before driving home, knowing a phone call would be coming soon from the TPD. At least I knew where her car was parked, in a relatively safe part of outer Chambersburg, while the police took her to the station.

Edna was waiting on the porch expectantly. How does she do that? She joked about her Hungarian radar, but sometimes I think she speaks the truth. I know Stephanie agrees with me.

"Uh oh. That look tells me it's bad again. Come on, I've got the coffee ready and you can tell me all about it. I thought Helen would be home by now, so I prepared the lasagne and it's in the oven. Okay, sit down. Hit me!"

I explained what I had seen, showing her the photos as evidence.

"My oh my. She's really cooked her goose this time. I figured she'd get nabbed sooner or later. What now?"

"We wait for the phone call. She'll likely be charged with driving under the influence and, since this is a repeat offence, she will have to go to court."

Surprisingly, for her one phone call, Helen had called Stephanie. Hmph! I bet she figured she'd avoid a lecture all the way home. Yep. Denial. Within minutes, her plan was shot to pieces since Stephanie was working, in Boston. Stephanie called me explaining her surprise call.

Helen was not pleased to be bailed out and taken home by me, but when she saw my face she clammed up, all bravado disintegrated to smithereens. She knew I was furious as I stood there with my arms folded.

"Well, Helen. You have little choice. Stay here in a cell overnight, or come home, but don't make a performance about it. Everyone can see you've been drinking again. See, you can't even stand up straight without staggering. You're an embarrassment, Helen Plum. You are lucky it was your nephew who pulled you over, but still you gave him a hard time. He has a job to do. That was disrespectful of you. You were DUI and well over the limit, according to the report. I am really disappointed in you."

"But now Shirley "the Whiner" will know, and it will be all over the Burg Grapevine, those wretched gossips! Why me?" Helen whined pathetically.

"Do you hear yourself? You made that choice. No one forced you to drink, and then drive. Apparently, you were reported along the way. It seems someone recognised you and saw you drinking while you were driving. You were outed by one of your supposed busybody friends. Deal with it, Helen! That's rich coming from you, Helen, you who leads the gossip mill with that wretched Burg Grapevine!"

At the processing desk her things were returned to her, including her floral carry bag. I opened the tartan vacuum flask and glared at her in disgust.

"Really Helen! This has gone too far! Is this supposed to be your "coffee", camouflaged in an unobtrusive picnic flask? It's whiskey! Let me guess, Jim Beam?" I was furious.

"Frank!" she whisper yelled at me. "Everyone can hear you!"

"It's your own fault," I grunted as I signed the exit paperwork and nodded at the charge officer.

"That's not fair, Frank," more whining.

"Nor is the way you chastised Stephanie for not being available to pick you up. How could you do that to your own daughter? We were available. Why didn't you just phone home? Well?"

... Crickets...

Eddie Gazarra came over and Helen tried to hide behind me, eyes downcast and blushing with shame.

"Aunt Helen, Uncle Frank. I drove the Buick back to your place," he said, handing me the car keys."

"Much appreciated Eddie. Helen has something to say to you." I stepped aside, exposing her.

She fumbled and looked everywhere but at Eddie, her nephew. "Helen," I growled at her, through gritted teeth.

She stuttered and muttered until I elbowed her. "I – I'm s-sorry Eddie. Um - You caught me at a bad time."

"No. Aunt Helen. It could have been so much worse. It already was a bad and dangerous time. In a way, you were fortunate it was Big Dog and I who pulled you over, especially since you didn't even stop at the stop sign, and sailed right through the intersection, oblivious to oncoming traffic!" She gasped in surprise. Jeez. I must have been too far back to see that! Shit! "There will be no overlooking a traffic violation such as that. Failing to stop at a stop sign is a serious traffic offence. You narrowly missed the motorcyclist." Another gasp as her hand clutched at her mouth.

"You left us no choice but to arrest you. This is very serious, Mrs Plum," Big Dog added. You were driving recklessly and you were drunk! The breathalyser indicated you were well over the limit. Then you tried to resist. If it had been any other officer, that would have added another serious charge against you. You need help, Mrs Plum."

They nodded at me and walked away, Eddie feeling unhappy having to chastise his aunt in the station. I nodded back in thanks and sighed. Yes. They were right. She needed help.

oOoOo

TBC