Page 36 of Death on Riddle Road
She turned her back on us, and walked away, leaving us to deal with the door, wipe our feet on a rug I hoped was meant for that purpose, and follow the best we could.
The impression of the house’s size was reinforced inside.Vaulted ceilings made me think of Disney versions of Medieval cathedrals.
Except cathedrals — Medieval or otherwise — seldom had profusions of pink cabbage roses.At least not that I’d seen.
Yet, when the woman led the way across the cold hall and down a corridor to the back, there we were — in an all-encompassing cabbage rose patch at odds with the tailored attire of the woman.
Cabbage roses covering a large, U-shaped sectional couch with a cabbage rose rug in the center.Cabbage roses on wallpaper on various angles of walls and as a border in the open kitchen.Cabbage roses framed for large-scale artwork collages.
“Yale, these people say Robbie sent them,” Beverly Dorrio said.
Deciding whether to correct her inaccurate summation of what Clara said took a back seat to trying to figure out who the heck she was talking to.
Yale, I knew, was the name of her husband — Derrick’s father.But I didn’t see him anywhere in this profusion of flowers.
And then I realized that what I’d thought was a break in the cabbage rose-ness of a couch was, instead, the slouching form of a gray-haired man in a wrinkled canvas jacket over a similarly colored shirt and pants.It was like an alternative version of that beautiful young woman in the big hat vs.the old lady in profile, shifting from seeing a human form instead of what I initially perceived as stems among the roses.
Now that I saw him, I also noted he shared the same deep facial lines as his wife, though his mouth turned down, rather than maintaining a rigidly neutral line.
“Sent them for what?”he asked.
“I have no idea.”Beverly moved around a coffee table toward the couch, adding an abbreviated gesture that could have been inviting us to take seats on a love seat covered in — you guessed it — cabbage roses at right angles to the couch or swatting at a fly.
Clara clearly interpreted the gesture as an invitation, taking a seat as she renewed what she’d said at the door with even more warmth and empathy and kindness, spreading them equally between Beverly and Yale Dorrio.
I sat beside her, on the front edge of the cushion.There’s a move in yin yoga called a supported bridge, where you lift your hips and slide a bolster or rectangular block under your derriere.It’s supposed to improve posture and stretch lots of stuff from head to toes.It’s also good practice for perching on the edge of a cabbage rose love seat without sliding off.
The Dorrios watched Clara as she continued on, neither face giving away a thing.
“...and after we’ve talked with you, we’ll talk to Robbie’s relatives on the other side of the family.”
I was pretty sure that was deliberate provocation on Clara’s part, but I know her well.No way did the Dorrios recognize it as such.
But they did respond, like a knee hit with a hammer.
“That woman,” Beverly Dorrio growled.
“Which one of them?”Yale Dorrio said under his breath.
“An excellent point, Yale.Either one of them.Both to be entirely accurate.”
“Oh?”Clara asked with widened eyes.“Were there difficulties from the start?”
Subtle wording on her part — avoiding any references such asbefore your son was convicted of murdering their loved one?
“I told Derrick before the marriage that those two would be a drag on him, their lives as a couple, and their family throughout their marriage.Indeed, the duration of the impact was for the rest of their lives as it turned out.First, Jaylynn’s, and now, Derrick’s.”
Her words were precise and sour.
Yale grunted agreement.
“Did you get along well with Jaylynn?”Clara could ask such questions and be viewed as genuinely interested, while coming from most people — like me — they sounded rudely nosy.I envied that.Even more, I appreciated it.
“She was the best of them,” Yale murmured.
Considering their views on her mother and sister, that might fall under the heading of damning with faint praise.
“We worked hard at establishing a cordial and mutually respectful relationship with our daughter-in-law,” Beverly said.“That’s not something that happens overnight.”
