Mama Gets Hitched by Deborah Sharp

Three teacher’s pets in the classroom’s front row. He cleared his throat.
    “You know I can’t talk about much. It’s an ongoing investigation.”
    Their faces fell, like the teacher just chose somebody else to help take attendance.
    He relented. “I can tell you the medical examiner will check the knife wounds on Ronnie’s body against the hog’s head to see if the same weapon was used.”
    “I knew it!” Mama said. “It’s just like on CSI .”
    Carlos smiled. “Well, not exactly. There’s a lot of dramatic license on TV and in the movies. And don’t get me started on murder mystery books.”
    He spent the next few minutes trying to establish what we heard from Alice’s house and when we heard it. Of course, we couldn’t agree on the answers to those crucial questions.
    “Teensy would have barked if he heard anything before Alice screamed,” Mama insisted.
    “Are you kidding? A serial killer could have been hiding with a hatchet in the next room and your dog wouldn’t have given a whit,” I said. “Don’t you remember? I’d just come in with the pizza and Teensy’s whole being was focused on getting a bite off somebody’s slice.”
    “No, ma’am.” Mama shook her head firmly. “I do not remember that. Teensy knows better than to beg from the table.”
    Even Marty snorted at that. “Sure, Mama. And you never steal food off my plate before I’m done either.”
    “All right, all right.” Maddie, in the middle, put a hand on each of their knees. “We can all agree that Teensy—and Mama—are easily distracted by food.”
    “Ring. Ring.” I held out a pretend phone to Maddie. “The black kettle wants to talk to you, Pot.”
    She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is that a crack about my weight?”
    I was just about to say if the feedbag fits … when I noticed that familiar vein at Carlos’ temple beginning to pulse. He was trying to hold something in, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to.
    “Would everybody just shut up?”
    Mama gasped. Carlos had used the S-word, a sin in her book. She’d always made us say hush instead. “Only low-class types and Yankees tell people to shut up,” Mama used to lecture us. Since Carlos was originally from Cuba, which is farther south than us, it was clear which of those two camps his shutup-saying self fell into.
    To his credit, he took one look at Mama’s frozen face and realized his verbal boo-boo.
    “Sorry, Rosalee.” He wore that contrite look he’d been brushing up on since he moved to Himmarshee. “I just wish you four wouldn’t bicker so much. It reminds me of the first night I met you. Sometimes I wish I’d tossed you all into jail and thrown away the key.”
    Crossing my arms over my chest, I felt a frown coming on.
    “Here’s a shovel, Carlos,” Maddie said. “Go ahead and dig yourself in deeper.”
    Carlos naming Mama as a murder suspect was still a sore subject with me. Not to mention the fact he was insulting our family dynamics. Anybody with two eyes can see we love each other, even though we pick a little.
    “Too bad you had to be content with just violating Mama’s rights,” I said. “Imagine sending a senior citizen, a Sunday school teacher, to the slammer.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t call me a senior citizen, Mace.”
    I ignored Mama’s pout. “You’re lucky any of us forgave you, Carlos.”
    “Oh yeah, I’m lucky all right …”
    “Stop it!” Marty said, and both Carlos and I were taken aback. “I think Carlos was right earlier when he said there’s something strange in the water up here.”
    “So y’all were listening in …” I started.
    “Oh, for God’s sake, Mace. Shut up!” Marty’s voice was soft, which made her rude use of the S-word no less shocking.
    Mama blinked. Maddie’s mouth opened and closed without her uttering a single word. My face burned. Even Carlos didn’t seem to know how to react.
    Marty leaned over and tried to pat my knee, but I jerked my leg away. “Sorry to say it so