He finished up checking out a customer and headed our way just as Gertie spotted a rack of camo miniskirts. She dashed over and yanked one off the racks.
“Oh my God!” she said. “Look at this skirt. It’s too cute.”
Ida Belle frowned. “You’re disappointing me, Chappy. Don’t tell me you’re selling that trendy crap in here now.”
Chappy shrugged. “The kids like ’em, and the parents are happy to spend a fortune for that strip of stretchy nonsense just to shut them up. Heck, I’ve had more new customers in here since I started stocking those skirts than I have in the past ten years. And once the kids get the parents in here, there’s usually something else I can convince them they need. Flashlights, knives, coolers…it’s been a real boon to the business.”
“Well, I can’t knock capitalism,” Ida Belle said and looked at Gertie. “Don’t even think about buying that. It’s a disgrace to people who wore the real thing.”
“Why?” Gertie asked. “You can run in it. It’s not long enough to trap your knees.”
“It’s not long enough to trap your important parts,” Ida Belle said. “You run in that, your heinie will be showing in about five steps.”
“Depends on your heinie,” Chappy said. “It’s that stretchy stuff. If you’ve got enough for it to tuck under, you’d probably be okay.”
I stared. “Exactly what kind of religious leader were you?”
“The kind that wasn’t blind,” Chappy said.
“You keep looking at young girls’ tuck-unders and that could change,” I said.
He grinned. “What can I help you ladies with today? Got some great .45 rounds in yesterday. And a couple new semis.”
“Actually, we’re here for Ida Belle’s wedding outfit and the bride has chosen camo,” I said.
“Great choice,” Chappy said. “I’ve got pants with zipper pockets and snaps. Do you have a preference?”
“Snaps,” Ida Belle said. “It’s easier to draw your gun.”
I shook my head. “You know, it’s a little disconcerting the amount of discussion that has gone into the need for self-defense at your wedding. Are you sure you don’t want to just fly to Vegas and do this thing?”
“I’m not leaving Louisiana,” Ida Belle said. “Look what happened when we went to Florida. Chaos. Can you imagine what could happen in Vegas?”
“Without Gertie?” I asked. “It would probably be as boring as one of Pastor Don’s sermons.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “Walter’s not big on shows or gambling and I’m not big on people. That doesn’t leave us much else to do in a place like Vegas.”
Gertie stared at her in dismay. “You’re getting married! There’s only one thing you should be doing.”
Chappy looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Walter’s as old as me,” Ida Belle said. “Without medical assistance and a respirator, that one thing isn’t going to occupy days.”
“So you’re not going to have a honeymoon?” I asked. “I thought you said you’d be gone for a couple days after the wedding.”
“We’re going deep-sea fishing,” Ida Belle said. “Got a spiffy charter booked as soon as we set a date.”
“You’re going to spend your honeymoon on bunk beds with a boat captain and other fishermen?” Gertie asked. “I just can’t even with this anymore. I’ve officially given up hope.”
“You could always get married yourself and have it your way,” Ida Belle suggested.
“Just as soon as I find a man who can handle a woman like me, I’ll see about it,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle looked at me. “Looks like you’re safe from having to wear a bridesmaid dress.”
Gertie gave her the finger and stomped toward the dressing room, waving the miniskirt above her head. “I’m wearing this to your wedding, even if I have to grease up to get it on. I might even run.”
“Maybe you should just pick out one of those frilly, ruffled monstrosities for her to wear,” I said. “At least you could avoid the potential for a bare-buns scene.”
“It’s half of Sinful’s residents, outside in July, with five hundred pounds of crawfish and five kegs of beer,” Ida Belle said. “We’ll see someone’s buns before the night is over. That’s a given.”
I grimaced.
“At least Celia’s not invited,” Ida Belle said.
Chappy nodded. “Thank the Lord and pass the beer. Camo for the adults in the room is over on the rack near the AR-15s.”
“See,” Ida Belle said. “I can buy clothes and accessories all in the same spot.”
I grinned. I really loved this woman.
Miss Molly lived off the highway, down a long dirt road with only a few houses on it. I was pretty sure we’d driven to Canada and was relieved when Ida Belle finally turned into a makeshift driveway. We’d already had to stop for Gertie to pee in a bush, and the subsequent round with her and an overly friendly snake had taken up more of my time and energy than I’d wanted to expend. Ida Belle cheering on the snake hadn’t helped matters. Neither had the fact that the bottom of Gertie’s pants had been caught on her tennis shoe.
The house was a rather unusual one. It looked like a giant barn or airplane hangar, depending on what mode of transportation you preferred. Added to the oddity of the architecture was the choice of paint color. The entire structure was painted bright purple.
“What’s with the house?” I asked. “This is the house, right?”
“The barn and a surrounding thousand acres or so used to be owned by a cattle rancher,” Ida Belle said. “He sold off the land in pieces years ago and retired to a small section with the barn and the house. There was a big colonial-mansion-style home over in that clearing to the right but it got taken out by a tornado. The only thing left standing was a refrigerator, which, lucky for the owner, was where he went to hide when he saw the tower of doom coming straight for him. Didn’t take a single board off the barn, though. After that nightmare, he sold the rest of the land with the barn, and Molly scooped it up for a song.”
“It’s a shame the tornado didn’t strip the paint,” I said.
“The paint is all Molly,” Ida Belle said. “The original owner had it done up in traditional red with white trim. Looked way better in my opinion.”
“See,” Gertie said. “There is something to be said for a traditional take.”
“It looked better to me,” Ida Belle said. “But Molly prefers it like this and she’s the one who has to look at it every day.”
“Good thing it’s not in our neighborhood,” I said. “People would have to wear sunglasses just to live nearby.”
“She wouldn’t be allowed to paint that color in Sinful proper,” Gertie said.
“Don’t tell me there’s an approved list of colors,” I said.
“Not exactly,” Gertie said. “Back years ago, a former mayor’s wife ran off with a musician with a traveling band—the Purple Experience. He managed to sneak a law in that prohibits purple houses in the town limits.”