“So he thought building a church would make Beulah’s father have a conversion?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t think he thought anything of the sort,” Gertie said as she pulled to a stop in front of the house. “But that’s the way he sold it to the building committee. Don Sr. knew Beulah’s father was the best carpenter in the parish. He didn’t care what the man believed in as long as he built a church that would last.”
“And last it has,” Ida Belle said. “Made it through every hurricane with only minimal damage.”
Since I’d recently spent time holed up in the church during a hurricane, I could personally attest to the strength of the building. Don Sr. had made a good choice in carpenters. I climbed out of the car, snagging one of the casseroles as I went. “So did Beulah’s father ever end up converting?”
“Not exactly,” Gertie said. “He never stepped foot in church again once it was built, but he starting dropping Beulah off every Sunday for children’s church.”
“You said Beulah never married, right?” I asked. “So how come she’s not a Sinful Lady?”
“When she turned forty and still hadn’t attached herself to a man,” Ida Belle said, “we extended an invitation, but she never accepted.”
“Why not?”
Gertie lowered her voice as we stepped onto the porch. “I think she was still hoping. Beulah was a sad little girl. Her mother died when she was eight; her father was a good man but one of those strong, silent types. She was a large child and not a pretty one, so the other children made fun of her. She didn’t have friends, and there was no family nearby. I think she’s been lonely most of her life.”
“Making her the perfect target for the catfish,” I said.
“I’m afraid so,” Ida Belle agreed as she opened the screen door and knocked on the blue wooden entry door.
I heard rustling inside and a couple seconds later, the door opened and an enormous woman peered out.
Midfifties, six foot two, three hundred twenty pounds, could probably bench-press a car. If she could catch you, she’d snap you in two like a twig.
I glanced over at Ida Belle. She hadn’t been joking. If Beulah put on some men’s clothes, cut her hair short, and took off the makeup, she could pass for Schwarzenegger’s younger brother. It wasn’t the best look on a man. It was even worse on a woman.
“Hello, Beulah,” Gertie said. “We’ve brought our friend Fortune with us. She’s younger and more up-to-date on certain things. I hope you don’t mind.”
Beulah barely glanced at me before pulling the door open and motioning for us to come inside. Her eyes and nose were red from crying, and she shuffled into the living room as though all the energy had been sapped out of her. She plopped down on a recliner that had seen its better days and I heard it creak in protest. Ida Belle and Gertie took seats on the couch next to the recliner, and I sat on an ugly antique-looking chair that turned out to be just as uncomfortable as it appeared.
I looked over at Gertie and Ida Belle, who were both studying Beulah, and waited for Gertie to get things going. She was the more emotional of the two. Ida Belle would perk up when we got down to business, but Gertie would get the lonely hearts ball rolling.
“I brought you a chicken casserole,” Gertie said as I put the dish on the coffee table. “I remember it’s your favorite.”
Good job, leading with food.
“Thank you,” Beulah said. “I haven’t felt much like cooking. Haven’t felt like doing anything, if I’m being truthful.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Gertie said. “You’re having a bad time of it, not to mention a nasty shock.”
Beulah nodded. “Yes. It all came as such a huge surprise to me…I still can hardly believe that people do this sort of thing. And for what? I suppose they have their bit of fun at others’ expense.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think it was fun,” Ida Belle said. “I’d say some of the unscrupulous and lazy have made it their profession. A lot easier than learning a trade and working eight hours a day.”
“It’s evil is what it is,” Beulah said. “Playing with people’s feelings. Making them promises and getting them to believe that their life is going to be that dream they always had.”
I held in a sigh. Ida Belle and Gertie had been right. Beulah had been carrying the torch for a big romance. Unfortunately, the torch had burned her badly.
“It’s a despicable thing for one person to do to another,” Gertie agreed. “I’m so very sorry that you got caught up in this.”