Chapter 31
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go to a movie tonight with Iris and Violet?” Poppy asked as Heather checked on her bubbling tray of turkey lasagna that was heating in the oven.
“Of course not,” Heather said, sliding the rack back inside the oven and shutting the door. “This is just as much your home as it is mine. You don’t need to go anywhere. Would you please open the wine and let it breathe?”
“Certainly,” Poppy said, picking up the wine bottle opener and screwing it down into the cork. “I just thought maybe you and Matt would like to enjoy some alone time without me hovering around all night.”
“Please, hover. I want you to hover,” Heather said with a wry smile. “Matt is desperate to have a serious talk about our relationship and I’m just not ready to do that. I need you here as a buffer.”
“You can’t put it off forever,” Poppy said as gently as she could. She popped the cork out of the bottle of Merlot and set it down on the counter next to three wine glasses that had been set out.
“I know, but I just got out. I haven’t even met with my parole officer yet or gotten a job or applied to any schools. It’s very overwhelming. I need time to get my act together and sort things out before I can address any kind of future with Matt.”
“I completely understand,” Poppy said. “I’m happy to gorge on your homemade turkey lasagna then.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Heather said before reaching out and taking her mother’s hand. “Thank you for being here for me . . . for everything.”
“You have no reason to thank me. It’s a mother’s job to take care of her children.”
“Children, yes. But I’m past thirty. It’s rather embarrassing for me to be living with my mother at this point.”
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone goes through a rough patch. Look at what happened to me after Chester died and I found out I had nothing. It takes time to get back on your feet.”
Heather let go of Poppy’s hand. “I’m going to work hard to make you proud of me.”
“I’m already proud of you,” Poppy said.
The doorbell rang and Heather crossed over to answer it. Matt, looking dashing in an open yellow shirt and blue blazer and bearing a bouquet of fresh flowers, leaned in for a kiss. Poppy saw Heather stiffen for a moment and hoped that Matt hadn’t noticed it when he landed a peck on her cheek. He then handed her the flowers.
“They’re lovely, Matt. Thank you,” Heather said. “Please, come in.”
Matt bounded into the apartment, waving at Poppy. “Hey, boss! I heard you were at the courthouse today when the cops arrested that woman for jury tampering.”
“Our instinct was right. It was not a clerical error. Tony Molina wanted to make sure Alden Kenny got selected for that jury, and the young man did his job. He made sure the judge was forced to declare a mistrial. Of course, with Glenda Felson refusing to identify Tony’s bodyguards as the two who approached her, the police can’t prove anything yet.”
“I’m going to put these in water,” Heather said, thoroughly uninterested as she crossed back to the kitchen carrying the flowers.
Poppy started pouring wine into the glasses while Heather filled an empty green vase with water from the sink.
“I was listening to the news on the way over here. Molina has gone on the offensive,” Matt said. “He swears that he has no idea who Glenda Felson is and that he is one hundred percent innocent and will sue anyone who suggests otherwise. Can you believe that?”
Poppy shook her head. “He sounds desperate and scared.”
“He should be. The prosecutor is on the warpath and has promised to retry the assault case against him, and not only that, she plans to pile on a bunch of new charges, including the jury tampering,” Matt said, crossing around the island to Heather’s side. “Can I help?”
His sudden presence next to her startled Heather, who gasped, and then turned and smiled at him. “No, I have everything under control. You talk to Mother.”
Poppy finished pouring the wine and handed them each a glass and then picked up hers and raised it. “I would like to propose a toast. . . .”
Heather and Matt also raised their glasses.
“To my daughter, Heather, who we are so happy to finally have home again,” Poppy said, choking back tears.
“Here’s to that,” Matt said happily as he took a gulp of wine.
Heather smiled shyly, not one to enjoy being the center of attention, and took a small sip before setting the glass back down and tending to her lasagna, which she pulled out of the oven using a pair of mitts. She set it down on a rack on the counter to cool and then opened the refrigerator and took out a wooden bowl with greens in it.
“Why don’t you two take a seat at the table and I’ll serve the salad,” Heather said.
Poppy and Matt did as instructed while Heather picked up some tongs and began tossing the greens in the wooden bowl after adding some homemade dressing.
“So Tony Molina gets his goons to convince Glenda at the courthouse to call Alden Kenny for jury duty, but why him? Why pick the guy who was having an affair with your wife?” Matt wondered, then gulped down some more wine.
“That’s the big question, but once Glenda Felson figures out the DA has an airtight case against her, she will hopefully finally cooperate and identify the couple who came to see her and ask her to help Tony,” Poppy said.
Matt leaned forward. “Do you think Tony had Alden Kenny killed in order to make sure he never talked about what he had done, you know, as a way to tie up a loose end?”
Poppy nodded confidently. “That sounds exactly like what a typical mafia don would do, and if Tony Molina reminds me of anything, it’s a mafia don. I’m sure Detective Jordan will have this whole thing wrapped up in no time.”
Heather appeared with salad plates and set them down in front of Poppy and Matt. Poppy suddenly felt bad about talking business.
“No more shop talk. Let’s enjoy this lovely meal Heather has prepared for us,” Poppy said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Matt said, swallowing the rest of his wine.
As they made their way through the salad course, Poppy tried steering the conversation back to Heather and her plans, but Heather answered in one-word sentences or with a simple shrug.
Matt put a hand on top of Heather’s as she set her salad fork down. “Whatever you decide to do with your life, I’m sure you’ll be a huge success.”
Heather withdrew her hand from underneath his just as Poppy had done with Rod recently. Matt looked down at the table, crestfallen. Poppy felt terrible for him. He had stayed so loyal to Heather throughout the duration of her incarceration, but she clearly was struggling with her feelings for him. But she also understood this was a very difficult and vulnerable time for her daughter and she was determined to support whatever path she took.
Matt tried lightening the mood by moaning rapturously after taking his first bite of Heather’s turkey lasagna. Heather seemed to appreciate the reaction. Poppy followed suit, and Heather started to feel more comfortable and started to open up and share stories about just how awful the food was in prison, describing one particularly stomach-churning mystery meat served in a bland, tasteless stew twice a week. They were on safer ground now, not talking about Heather’s feelings for Matt, or vice versa. The evening took a turn for the better and became almost celebratory over the fact that Heather’s worst days were behind her and she had much to look forward to, and Poppy felt dinner was going to end on a high note.
But then, out of the blue, Matt’s phone buzzed. He couldn’t resist pulling it out of the back pocket of his pants and glancing at the screen. His face suddenly went pale.
Poppy held her wine glass close to her mouth but stopped before taking a sip. She knew something was wrong. “Matt, what is it?”
He looked up from his phone. “It’s a breaking news alert.”
“What? What’s happened?” Poppy asked.
Matt set his phone down on the table and looked at both of them, stunned. “Tony Molina’s wife, Tofu, was just found in their home here in Palm Springs . . . shot to death.”
Poppy dropped her glass and it shattered on the floor as splashes of red wine stained her dress.