The Man She Married by Ann DeFee

retreating to the back room
    Maizie was left to face Cora Lee Tillington, society editor for the Magnolia Bluffs Gazette. Cora was the same generation as Mama and Daddy and she knew everyone in town—except maybe the folks out in the trailer park, but even that wasn’t a sure bet.
    What was it they said about soothing the savage breast? Speak with a comforting voice and show no fear. “Hey there, Cora Lee,” Maizie said, displaying her best beauty pageant smile. “What can I do for you?”
    “Mary Stuart, honey, it’s more what I can do for you.” Cora Lee Tillington had obviously seen too many movies. With her outdated business suit and a pencil stuck in her graying bun, she looked like a female Social Security version of Bob Woodward.
    “I give. What can you do for me?” Maizie couldn’t resist.
    “The entire town is buzzing about what you girls are up to. So what’s next?”
    “I’m sorry. I don’t have any idea what you mean.” This situation definitely called for playing the blond bimbo card.
    “Please. I’ve known you since you were in diapers. You can’t BS an old BS’er.”
    Playing dumb hadn’t worked. Maybe distraction would. “Can I perhaps interest you in one of our wonderful bras?” Maizie pulled a lacy push-up off the rack. “Or a new sundress.” She headed straight for a strapless polished-cotton number more suitable for a teenager than one of Mama’s contemporaries.
    Cora Lee retrieved a battered notebook from her voluminous purse. “I want the straight skinny and no more messin’ around. My readers are dying to know what’s coming up next. I hear you’re going to hire a brass band. Is that right?” She had her pencil poised to jot down Maizie’s answer.
    A brass band—now that was an interesting idea.
    Cora Lee interrupted Maizie’s ruminations. “If you can draw this thing out for a month, I’ll make it a regular column.” The Gazette came out twice a week and the dingbat wanted Maizie to come up with a show for each issue?
    “That isn’t going to happen. Believe me.”
    Cora Lee’s glasses slipped further down her nose. “Oh, well, it was merely a thought. At least give me an exclusive on your next shenanigan.”
    It was obvious that Cora wasn’t giving up—and Maizie had had enough for one day—so she decided to throw the reporter a bone.
    “I don’t have a specific date, but yes, a brass band is in the works.”
    Cora’s eyebrows shot straight into her hairline.
    Great. Maizie’s big mouth was getting her in trouble again. Tuba players didn’t exactly advertise in the phone book, so where was she going to find someone to play John Phillip Sousa? Aha! The high school band director’s wife was a regular customer, so maybe—
    “This is marvelous, simply marvelous.” Cora scribbled in her notebook. “You be sure to let me know when it’s going to happen, ya hear? The paper comes out on Wednesday and Saturday, so if you’ll call me the day before, I’m sure I can drum up an audience.” Cora poked the pencil back in her bun.
    An audience? That was almost as good as doing a marriage proposal on national TV—saying no was virtually impossible.
    Cora Lee was on her way out the door when she lobbed a parting shot. “I hear there’s a family betting pool.”
    A betting pool? Did she really say there was a betting pool? The nerve of it all.
    “PJ, you can come out now.” Maizie used her best syrupy-sweet voice to lure the poor insect into her spider’s web.
    Sure enough, it worked. PJ peeked around the corner. “Is she gone?”
    “She certainly is.” Maizie could do innocent with the best of them. “Come on out. Really now, would I lie?”
    PJ reluctantly made her way to the counter. “Ms. Tillington gives me the willies.”
    Maizie couldn’t agree more. Cora Tillington was definitely nervous-making. “She told me something interesting.”
    Maizie went to the front door and turned over the Closed sign.
    PJ took that as a signal to tally up the