Sleeping Lady Mountain.
You do have a calculator for a heart. People were talking about how nice Waldo had been, and all she could think about was money. She was a terrible person, a terrible, terrible person. She hadn’t always been like that, had she? A tear slipped from a corner of her eye.
Ed York, owner of D’Vine Wines, stood. “I can still remember sitting with Waldo out on his deck, looking at the mountains, sharing a bottle of wine, and him saying, ‘You know, Ed, it doesn’t get any better than this.’ That Waldo, he sure knew how to enjoy life.”
While everyone around him was pulling out their hair.
“He was a dear soul,” old Mrs. Nilsen said. “Last month he stopped in the freezing cold to change my tire when I had a flat on Highway 2.”
On and on went the praise. Good, old, wonderful Waldo. Everyone here would miss him—except his rotten, ungrateful, Scrooge-in-drag, calculator-for-a-heart stepdaughter. She was pathetic. Another tear sneaked out of her eye and trickled down her cheek.
Pastor Jim finally called a halt to the festivities and the party made its way under cloudy skies to Festival Hall, where everyone could mingle, sing Waldo’s praises further and devour cold cuts and potato salad. Inside, the three sisters smiled and commiserated.
Waldo’s brother and his daughter, Wanda, had flown in from the East Coast. Taking in the woman’s red eyes as she approached, Samantha managed to find empathy in the swirl of guilt and resentment and frustration she was experiencing
“I’m sorry we’re having to see each other again in such sad circumstances,” Wanda said.
“So are we,” Cecily told her.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Samantha added. And she was. She knew how horrible it was to lose a father and she wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy.
Wanda dabbed at her eyes with a soggy tissue. “I can’t believe he’s gone. He was the best father. And he was always so positive, so upbeat.”
So clueless. “I wish we could turn back the clock,” Samantha said.
Wanda sniffed and nodded. “You were all so good to him.”
Samantha couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She hardly wanted to confess that during the past few months she’d been anything but good.
Cecily stepped into the gap. “He was a nice man.”
True. He was just a bad businessman.
“He sure loved Muriel,” Wanda said. “He was so lonely after Mother died. Muriel gave him a new lease on life.”
“And I don’t know what her life would’ve been like without him,” Samantha said.
“I think Muriel would like to hear that, Wanda,” murmured Waldo’s brother, Walter, as he led their long-distance stepsister away.
“I need a drink,” Samantha said.
“Great idea,” Bailey agreed, and they all drifted over to the punch bowl.
Samantha really wasn’t much of a drinker, but a good stiff belt sure seemed to help a lot of movie characters through stressful moments and right about now she was willing to give it a try. “I wish this was spiked,” she muttered.
Bailey looked across the room at their mother. “I feel so bad for Mom.”
Muriel Sterling-Wittman sat on a folding chair framed by the weak winter light coming through the window behind her, a beautiful tragic figure starting the new year alone. Her basic black dress discreetly draped her Betty Boop curves and her hair was still the same shiny chestnut it had been when Samantha was a girl, courtesy of the geniuses at Sleeping Lady Salon. The green eyes Waldo once raved about were bloodshot from crying but still looked lovely thanks to lashes thick with waterproof mascara. Half the men in the room were hovering around with tissues in case she found herself in need.
“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about her being lonely,” Bailey said. She was the spitting image of their mother and the most like her, as well—sweet, positive and naive.
Cecily gave a cynical snort. “Much good any of those men will do her. They’re all married.”
“Not Ed,” Bailey pointed out.
“He’s got the hots for Pat over at the bookstore,” Samantha said, and mentally added, Thank God.
“Arnie’s not married,” Bailey said. “Neither is Mayor Stone. Or Waldo’s brother. Wouldn’t it be sweet if—”
Samantha cut her off. “Let’s not even put that thought out in the universe.” All they needed was another man coming along and convincing Mom that the third time would be the charm.
“Look at them. Waldo’s barely gone and they’re already circling around her like some old-guy version of The Bachelor.” Cecily shook her head. “Men.”
“You know, for a matchmaker you sure have a sucky attitude,” Bailey observed.
“Where do you think I got it?” Cecily retorted.
“How do you manage to stay in business?” Bailey asked in disgust.
“By staying superficial.” Cecily gave them a wicked grin.
Cecily was the only blonde in the family and she was the prettiest of them all with perfect features and the longest legs. Samantha had been cute with her red hair and freckles, but it was Cecily the boys drooled over. Still, in spite of her good looks, Cupid had never been kind to her. So far she’d gone through two fiancés. Samantha didn’t understand how Cecily could make money matching up beautiful people in L.A. but couldn’t seem to get it right when it came to her own love life.
Like you’re doing so well?
Touché, she told her snarky self.
“You’re enough to make a woman give up on love,” Bailey muttered as she nodded and smiled politely at old Mr. Nilsen, who was ogling her from the other side of the hall.
“That would be the smart thing to do,” Cecily said.
“Well, I don’t think Mom’s ready to give up on love. Maybe you could match her up with someone,” Bailey suggested.
“No!” Several people turned to stare and Samantha downed a slug of punch in an effort to put out the fire in her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Could a woman suddenly get Tourette’s at thirty?
The wicked in Cecily’s grin kicked up a notch. “I know what you mean. No one will ever be able to replace Waldo.”
“I liked Waldo, I really did,” Samantha said. “But no more men. I’ve got enough to deal with already.”
“Gosh, Sammy.” Bailey frowned at her.
Samantha frowned back. “Hey, baby sister, you two get to go back to sunny California and match up lonely millionaires and cater events for starlets. I’m the one stuck with the fallout here.”
Cecily
