CHAPTER three
There was no answer at the door at Evelyn and Danny’s place. I was surprised. It was almost twelve-thirty and you’d think the video arcades would be closed. Aren’t they normally populated by twelve year old boys who should all be home in bed by now? Danny wasn’t a drinker and he didn’t have a girlfriend so I was surprised by his absence. I had no idea where his twin brother Jonathan or his sister Elaine lived. I had only met the brother and sister a few times at family get-togethers and birthday parties for Ev and didn’t feel comfortable telling them the bad news. I didn’t feel comfortable telling Danny either, but at least he was a known entity.
Danny was a mommy’s boy. His identical twin Jonathan was the exact opposite. Jonathan had been married three times, no children. Thank God, Ev used to say. Their older sister Elaine was married and had one child, Sarah. Pictures of Sarah and Danny were plastered all over Ev’s office.
Evelyn’s husband died in 1955 in Korea leaving her with a three year old and two babies. It had been a struggle financially for Ev, but she never complained. Jonathan took his first bride when he was nineteen and was fast on his way to becoming a male Zsa Zsa Gabor. Elaine was a homemaker whose husband sold something, I couldn’t remember. They were the steady ones. Danny on the other hand had never held a job for more than a year, was one credit short of about eight different university degrees, and was totally inept when it came to women, other than his mama. Danny would regularly show up at the office with a homemade lunch for his mother and sit beside her and watch her eat it. He called her about six times a day, and every hour on the hour if she worked late. On nights when Ev was late at the office, she had to call him when she was leaving and he’d meet her at the subway stop. Ev used to throw her hands in the air and ask for medical proof that the umbilical cord had been cut when Danny was born. Danny was very protective of his mama and her death was going to devastate him.
"I hope she has more life insurance than the company provided," I said to Jay. "Danny’s going to find it tough enough coping without his mama. When he has to find steady work, that should just about do him in."
"Give the kid a break," Jay said.
"Kid?" I snorted. "Jay, he’s almost old enough to be your father. He’s no kid. He’s forty-four years old."
Jay shut up. He was twenty-eight years old but tried to act forty-eight.
We were sitting in the car outside Ev’s house. The streetlights cast shadows on the cars parked on the street. Other than the parked cars and Jay and I, the street was deserted. The car was facing in the direction of the Davisville subway station so we could see Danny when he walked down the street. I lit another cigarette and before Jay could snort at me, I rolled the window down.
"Nuts. Fucking nuts. Why would Ev be so stupid to eat something with nuts in it?" I asked out loud.
"Kate, do you think she would knowingly eat something with nuts in it?"
"I was talking to myself," I snapped back.
I turned in the seat and looked at Jay. He was looking straight ahead and was running his hand through his hair. It was standing straight up. He did this repeatedly.
"You’re brushing. Stop it," I ordered.
Jay mumbled something.
"Pardon?" I asked.
He turned to me and grinned. "I said leave me alone, Kate. I haven’t said a word all night about the two packs of cigarettes you’ve smoked. Stop nagging me about brushing my hair with my hand."
It was about the only nervous habit he had. But he did have a point. Brushing his hair with his hand wasn’t going to give him emphysema and his teeth weren’t going to turn that lovely shade of gold that smokers get for no extra charge.
We sat quietly for a few minutes. "I’m going to have the caterers fired. That’s the last fucking time they get our business. Someone must have screwed-up and cooked something with peanut oil."
"You can’t blame the caterers when they didn’t provide the food," Jay said.
"Whaddya mean, they didn’t cater? We always get them to cater."
I closed my eyes and tried to picture the credenza in the boardroom. I could recite from memory the items that should have been laid out, because we always get the same food, every time. But when I closed my eyes to conjure up a picture of the food at today’s reception, something was out of whack. I could see mismatched Tupperware containers, paper plates, odd and unmatched cut glass and crystal bowls, pottery platters, and very different looking food. I shook my head. The food today had been yummy stuff like brownies, potato salad, cold cuts, celery with Cheez Whiz, devilled eggs. But where were the chicken livers with bacon, mini quiches, smoked oysters?
"Who catered the food today?" I asked Jay.
"Don’t you ever read your e-mail? It was a potluck. All the employees attending the reception were told to bring something homemade. Orders from the CEO. He wanted a more ‘homey’ style reception. Even he brought something. We all joked it was probably some of Baby’s dog food." Baby was Chris Oakes’ dog. "Vanessa reminded everyone in the e-mail about Ev’s allergy and we were told to avoid nuts and peanut oil."
I vaguely remembered the e-mail and was flabbergasted. Potluck? Just who the hell did Chris Oakes think he was fooling?