Cemetery Silk by E. Joan Sims

this was a classy joint, not like them sleazy places Dibber used to take me.”
    We all three came to immediate attention at the mention of his name. Cassie pulled a chair up from the table for the girl. We three sat on the bottom of each of our beds.
    â€œGot anything to drink? I’m dry as a desert.”
    â€œOf course, dear. Forgive me for not asking,” apologized Mother. “We have coke, diet coke, and Perrier. Which would you like?”
    â€œYou don’t have no…? No, I guess you ladies don’t exactly travel with the hard stuff. Give me a Perrier. I always wanted to try one of them, but Stevie, he won’t spring dough for water. He says water ought’a be free, and water in a bottle is for sissies. Not that you ladies are sissies. Just classy. ‘Specially the old lady. You’re real classy, Ma’am.”
    â€œWhy thank you, dear. What is your name? My granddaughter didn’t tell us.”
    â€œThat’s cause I didn’t tell her. ‘Cause I’m an informant, like in that old movie. I’m ‘Deep Throat.’ Ain’t that cute?” She giggled and took a big swallow. A look of complete distaste crossed her face, but she managed to keep the drink down. “Class” apparently did not taste as good as it looked.
    â€œLet’s get this over with so I can go. Molly closed up early. I told Stevie I had to go to the store so he’ll be expectin’ me soon. Where’s the fifty?”
    â€œWhat fifty?” I turned to my errant child, “Cassie, what fifty?”
    â€œI didn’t have a chance to tell you, Mom, but I promised, eh, ‘Deep’ fifty dollars if she told us what she know about the Dibbers.”
    They had me over a barrel. If I argued with them now we might lose her. I just hoped it was going to be worth it. Fifty dollars! She was lucky that I kept a fifty-dollar bill hidden in my wallet in case of emergencies. I knew Mother was too “classy” to carry any cash. Deep tucked the money in her bra like any good floozy and started talking immediately.
    â€œWell, Stevie and me, we weren’t getting along so good, see? And Ernest, he comes in the coffee shop and starts making up to me. I knew he was married ‘cause Aunt Molly kept makin’ remarks. But he was kind’a sweet and needy, ya know? And he was a real great tipper. So one night when Stevie was drinkin’ real heavy, Ernest says to me to meet him after work. ‘Come down to the corner,’ he says, and he’ll pick me up. ‘We’ll go have dinner.’”
    She looked at Mother and shrugged her shoulders. “Anybody can have dinner. It don’t mean nothing, right?”
    She paused and I could see her reliving the fairy tale she had created, the romantic rendezvous with a handsome stranger. She had probably recast Dibber in her mind’s eye because he was anything but handsome.
    I gave Deep a closer look. She was much younger than I had previously thought. On closer inspection, her mouth and eyes looked pinched and ugly, and her skin was coarse and grimy with unwashed makeup.
    I felt distaste and pity at the same time. She was about the same age as Cassie, but they were a million light years apart. It was not class that separated them, just luck.
    Mother would disagree and argue about genes and morals and ethics and good stock. Cassie would put forth an argument about Karma. The truth was that it was just the luck of the draw in whose nest you were laid.
    I sighed away my motherly instincts and reminded myself that Deep was just a tough little cookie out for fifty bucks.
    â€œWhere did he take you?” I asked.
    â€œTo this really great barbeque place on the Interstate. Hardly nobody from here goes out to eat at night. They are so provincial.”
    She looked at Mother for approval at her use of a “really big word.”
    Mother smiled back at her. “Wasn’t he afraid someone would