Chapter 21
The Moonlight Magnolia crew found Frank Bellissimo in the atrium lobby. He was sitting alone on a love seat near the grand piano, looking most forlorn and watching his fellow passengers pass back and forth through the security check.
Savannah couldn’t recall ever seeing a more miserable fellow. The anger he had exhibited the night before as he had stomped through the dining room appeared to have dissipated. Now he seemed deflated, somehow smaller, and far less scary than he had before.
That fact caused Savannah to feel a little less anxious about walking her vulnerable grandmother virtually into the lion’s maw.
From their hiding place, behind some potted palms, she and Gran watched Frank watch the other passengers. “I think he’s doing the same thing that Tammy and Waycross were earlier,” Granny said. “He’s trying to see if that blond gal he was looking for all day is getting back on the ship.”
“I’ll bet you’re right,” Savannah said as she observed Richard and Dora enter a coffee shop on the other side of the atrium to her right. She nudged Granny and nodded in their direction as they took seats at the small round tables with marble tops and wrought-iron chairs.
Granny saw and smiled. “Okay,” she said. “We’ve got Mama and Poppa Bear in place.”
Savannah saw Dirk, Ryan, and John stroll into the atrium, as well. They sidled over to a quaint little shop that was selling gelato and slid into a booth that had easy access to the piano area where moping Franky B. sat and pouted.
“Okay,” Granny said. “The gang’s all here. Let’s get this shindig rollin’.”
Savannah gave the guys in the gelato shop and Dirk’s parents in the coffee bar a brief nod, which they returned.
For better or for worse, it was showtime.
Savannah placed her hand on her grandmother’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this, Granny? I keep telling you, you don’t have to do it.”
“Of course I don’t have to do it. I know that. I want to do it.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to us, Gran. I want you to know that.”
Granny gave an impatient sniff. “Of course I know that. I’m not tryin’ to prove nothin’ to nobody. It’s just that I’m sure I can do this better than any of the rest of you, so it oughta be my job.”
“Okay. But if you run into any trouble at all—”
“I know. I know. Just holler and y’all will come runnin’ and do that throwin’ down, slappin’ the cuffs on thing.”
“In a heartbeat. As a matter of fact, if I see you do anything, like even scratch your nose lopsided, I’ll come running to rescue you.”
“I know you will, sugar. It won’t come to that, but I’m grateful for the thought anyway.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed her granddaughter’s cheek. “Besides, he don’t look all that mean to me. In fact, he looks like a sad sack who could use a little bit o’ company.”
Casually, Gran left Savannah and meandered over to the piano. A good-looking gentleman in a formal black suit, stiff white shirt, and black bow tie was playing an old-fashioned love song with remarkable skill and passion.
Gran stood next to his stool for a time and listened to him play. When his song was finished, Savannah watched her grandmother tap the pianist on the shoulder and say something to him that brought a sweet smile to his face.
That was her Granny Reid. Everywhere she went she seemed to bring out the best in people.
Savannah only hoped that her contact with Frank Bellissimo would render the same result.
She held her breath as Granny sauntered over to the love seat where Bellissimo sat. Would she be able to strike up a conversation with him? Or would he tell her in typical tough guy fashion to get lost?
So intently was Samantha focusing on the two of them that she didn’t even notice her own husband when he left Ryan and John in the gelato shop. She didn’t see him until he walked up and stood beside her.
“I’ve always loved your granny,” he said softly in her ear. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud of her as I am right now.”
“Can you imagine having that much moxie when you’re in your eighties?” Savannah asked.
“No, but I can certainly imagine her granddaughter having that much when she hits eighty. In fact I’d say it’s a done deal.”
Savannah laughed. “I wish I could hear what they’re saying to each other. Gran sat down beside him, and he didn’t kick her off the seat. I’d say that’s a good start.”
“It sure is. Look, he’s talking to her. I’d say he’s telling her what he’s doing sitting there. Why he’s watching the security checkpoint.”
Savannah thought the same thing. Big, ugly, tough guy Frank Bellissimo and the sweet little lady from down in Dixie were having a most pleasant and quite animated conversation. Frank’s hands were waving around with wild abandon as he stated his case, and Granny was leaning toward him, her eyes intent upon his face. She was nodding vigorously at the end of each of his sentences, as though he had just said the most interesting thing she’d ever heard.
Suddenly, Savannah felt someone poke her in the ribs.
“Boo!” said a cheerful female voice in her right ear.
Savannah turned to see Tammy and Waycross grinning at her and Dirk.
“Whatcha doin’ hiding here behind these palm trees?” her brother asked. “Are we spying on someone?”
Savannah nodded toward the piano and the love seat.
Tammy caught her breath. “Good heavens! What is Granny doing talking to that awful man?”
“She’s treating him like a nice human being, whether he is or not. She was sure that was the best plan for interrogating him. Since the only other plans that we could come up with involved bloodshed, severe bruising, and probably stitches, we decided to let her try her way first.”
“Good idea,” Waycross said with a thoughtful nod. “Granny’s always been the very best at weaseling information out of people. Usually without them even knowing she’s doing it.”
They all watched as Frank seemed to experience some sort of emotional breakdown. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and covered his eyes with his hands.
“What’s wrong with him?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know,” Dirk replied. “If I didn’t know better I’d think he was crying.”
“No way.”
Granny reached over, placed her hand on Frank’s broad back, and began patting him like a baby who needed to burp.
“Actually,” Tammy said, “he might be crying, considering what we found out.”
“What you found out?” Savannah turned to Tammy. “What did you find out?”
“He’s got woman problems,” Waycross said, shaking his head sadly.
“He’s going through menopause, too?” Dirk asked.
Savannah wanted to smack him. But that would have given away their position. Overt violence was seldom a good idea when surveilling a subject from behind potted palms.
“No,” Tammy responded, tittering. “Of course not.”
“His fiancée’s gone and ditched him,” Waycross told them. “She won’t even talk to him. Slept in a deck chair last night just to avoid him.”
“How do you know that?” Savannah asked.
“She told us all about it, not an hour ago.” Tammy looked extremely satisfied with herself. Savannah might have even found it mildly annoying, except that what she was saying was so informative.
“How did you find out that he has a fiancée?” Dirk asked.
“Social media.” Tammy gave him a smug grin. “You should try it sometime. Most people leave their information wide open. You can find out a lot about anybody in two minutes.”
“Like that they have a pretty blond fiancée named Desiree Haddrill,” Waycross said. “Then you can look on the passenger manifest and—lookie there!—find out that she’s aboard. Sharing a stateroom with him, in fact.”
Tammy nodded. “Except that she isn’t sharing it with him, because she’s mad at him.”
“Do you happen to know why?” Savannah asked. “Was that on social media, too?”
Tammy gave Waycross a funny look, and he blushed bright red. Savannah knew that scarlet-cheeked flush all too well. Waycross had done something naughty. Or Tammy had, and he knew about it.
“No,” Tammy admitted reluctantly, “it wasn’t on the Internet. I had to get . . . um . . . creative to find out the nitty-gritty stuff.”
Savannah was afraid to ask, but she had to. “Okay. What did you do?”
“You don’t wanna know,” Waycross said, turning even redder. “I’m pretty sure that would make you an accomplice or something.”
“What the hell did you do? Fess up,” Dirk demanded.
Savannah gave a quick glance over toward Granny and Frank. But they hadn’t heard Dirk’s outburst. Now Gran had her arm completely wrapped across Frank’s shoulders, and she was leaning on him, practically cuddling him.
“I stole her purse,” Savannah heard Tammy say.
She whipped around and locked eyes with her best friend. “You didn’t!”
Waycross nodded. “She did. We went looking for Desiree and found her there in the casino, playing one of those slot machines. No sooner did we see her than she walked over to a bar to get herself a drink, and she left her purse right there by the machine.”
“That’s right,” Tammy said. “When you think about it, she was practically asking for it.”
“She was not asking for anything,” Savannah told her. “She was an innocent victim and you’re a purse snatcher. Good Lord, Tammy. What’s wrong with you?”
Dirk shook his head. “It’s women problems. I’m telling you—menopause, pregnancy, it’s all the same thing. Messes up the way a woman thinks.”
Savannah fixed him with a baleful stare. “You know, an unsuspecting guy could get ‘messed up,’ saying stupid stuff like that around women who aren’t thinking straight.” She turned back to Tammy. “Give her back her purse, right now, before anybody realizes you’ve got it.”
“I already did. What do you think I am, a purse snatcher?”
Dirk threw up his hands and said to Savannah, “See? Messed up.”
Savannah laid her hands on Tammy’s shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “I just want to make sure I’ve got this straight. You stole her purse, and then you gave it back to her?”
Tammy grinned. “I did. I picked it up and dropped it into my tote. She went back to her slot machine and played for a little while. Then when she got up to go, she reached for her purse and it wasn’t there. I let her look for a while. Then once she got good and frustrated, I snuck the purse out of my tote, walked over, and asked her if that was what she was looking for. I said I’d found it on the floor. I know that was a fib, but—”
“Well, hell,” Dirk said, “if you’ve taken up purse snatching for a hobby, what’s a little fib here and there?”
“What possessed you to do such a thing?” Savannah asked.
“I needed to bond with her. Really quick,” Tammy explained. “What better way than that, giving a woman back her purse that she thought she’d lost?”
“I probably could’ve thought of one or two better ways,” Savannah said. “But what’s done is done. Did you find out anything else other than that she’s engaged to Frank and it’s not going well?”
“She found out what the fight was all about,” Waycross said. “Turns out he wasn’t the least bit romantic when he proposed. He kinda asked her on the fly, all matter-of-fact like, when they were walking down the hallway to their room.”
“That’s true,” Tammy said sadly. “No dropping down on one knee. No ring. No speech about love. Just ‘Whaddaya say we get hitched?’”
Even Dirk groaned. “Oh, man. He screwed up big. Even I did the knee and the ring thing.”
“Exactly,” Tammy said. “And everybody knows you’re the least romantic guy on the planet.”
“Hey!”
“Now, now,” Savannah interjected before the drama could escalate. “It looks like Granny and Frank are bringing it to a close. Heads up, everybody.”
“I can see why,” Tammy said, pointing to a pretty blond woman who was just coming through the security checkpoint, shopping bags in hand. “There’s Desiree now.”
To their astonishment Frank jumped to his feet, pulled Granny to hers, and gave her an enormous bear hug and an enthusiastic, if brief, kiss on the lips. Then he released Gran and rushed over to his fiancée.
“Come on now, Desi,” Savannah heard Tammy whisper. “Take my advice. Be sweet the next time you see him and things will go better.”
As suggested, Desiree gave him a friendly, if lukewarm, smile. He grabbed the packages out of her arms with one hand and gently stroked her cheek with the other.
Granny left the love seat area and slowly made her way back toward the group behind the palm trees. When she joined them, she said, “He was just a bit misguided in the romance department. In need of a bit of Granny Reid’s advice for the lovelorn. Let’s see if he takes it now.”
They all watched breathlessly as Frank deposited the packages on the love seat. Then he plucked a pink rose from a bouquet that was decorating a nearby table and handed it to his companion. She ducked her head and giggled sweetly.
Taking her by the hand, he led her to the piano. He leaned over and made a request, and a moment later the musician was playing a lovely rendition of Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
Big, clunky Frank Bellissimo wrapped his arms around the woman he loved and began dancing her across the atrium floor, whirling her with surprising skill around the fountain and back to the piano, much to the delight of onlookers. By the end of the song, twenty or more people had stopped to watch the couple. Even Ryan and John, Dora and Richard, and the Moonlight Magnolia gang who had been hiding behind the palms had mingled with the audience.
The moment the song ended, those watching clapped and cheered uproariously. Amid the applause, Frank dropped to one knee, reached into his pocket, and produced an engagement ring with a stone the size of a doorknob. He held it up to her and said in a loud voice, dripping with attitude and a strong Jersey accent, “Desiree Haddrill, I love you. I never loved a woman in my whole life the way I love you. If you’ll marry me, I’ll never do anything wrong again in my life. I swear it.”
She snatched the ring from his hand, slipped it on her finger, and dissolved into a fit of ecstatic tears.
Frank picked her up, his arms around her waist, kissed her, then swung her wildly in circles around and around the room, like she was a limp, understuffed doll. If anyone had been standing too close, her feet would have taken them out, knocked them down like bowling pins.
But the audience gave the lovers a wide berth and all ended well.
Granny gave a sniff and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve seen chickens get their necks wrung with more grace than that. But at least his heart’s in the right place.”
“What did you two talk about over there on the love seat?” Savannah asked.
“He told me how bad his life is going. I told him that if he wants his life to go well he’s gotta do good stuff and lay off the leg-breakin’ junk. He swore he was turning over a new leaf, then and there.”
Dirk looked doubtful. “Come on, Granny. Have you ever in your life seen a bad guy go good?”
“No. I can’t say as I have,” she admitted. “But the day that I lose faith that it’s possible is the day that I give up on this world and everybody in it. I don’t intend to ever do that.”