He looked surprised. Not at the information but at Jane's knowing it. "It was none of my business."
“Then what—?"
“Look, I don't know why this interests you, but Emma was an advice giver. One of those people who's always volunteering what you ought to be doing about things, whether you wanted her opinion or not. I didn't like it. She had all kinds of half-assed opinions on how I should be raising my son. Coming from a woman who didn't have children and hadn't been asked, it was really irritating. That's all.”
He was obviously getting irritated with their questions as well. It was time for some repair work.
“No!" Jane exclaimed. "Why, how outrageous. But there are a lot of people like that. In fact, people without kids often think they know more about raising them than the parents like us who are in the trenches.”
This mollified him a bit. "Yeah, there's a big difference between theory and reality. She had a loony idea about year-round school and how I should make him take summer classes when he visited with me. She was always harping on it. Thought it would make for great 'bonding' if I spent every night all summer helping him with homework. I don't think she was ever a kid herself," he added sourly.
“But why would somebody kill her?" Jane asked as if pondering the question for the first time.
He shrugged. "You've got me there." He didn't seem particularly curious.
“There's a rumor going around that she was blackmailing people," Shelley said.
“Blackmailing? Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "What would she know about anybody? Oh—!" He stopped speaking, his mouth open.
“What?" Jane asked.
He was glaring out across the now empty field and talking to himself more than to them. "The police asked me about some files in Robert's office — private files, they said. Oh, shit! You don't think—”
Suddenly he got a grip on himself. "Sorry. Excuse my language. God, this is awful!" He started gathering up equipment. "Boys, finish up quickly now. It's time to go," he barked.
Jane decided, since he was unravelling, she'd push him just a little further. "I guess you and Rhonda will be getting married when this is all settled."
“What!" It was a yelp.
“Aren't you? Oh, I'm sorry. But we heard that's why she was divorcing her husband."
“She's telling people that?" he asked, dropping his notebook and pencil. "No, no. She wouldn't. No. Mrs. Stonecipher and I are just friends. Really. Boys! Are you ready? Are your rides all here?”
He scrabbled for his notebook and went tearing off to hustle them along.
“Jeez, Jane!" Shelley said, laughing. "What a reaction. You scared him half to death."
“I think it's Rhonda who's scaring him," Jane said.
Shelley watched as Tony Belton started herding the boys toward the waiting cars. "I don't think any of that was an act, do you? I think the blackmailing news was really a kidney punch."
“Mel's going to have a fit if it gets back to him that I talked about it. But if Patsy Mallett's figured it out, I imagine a lot of people have. Wonder why Tony didn't?"
“When's he had time to figure anything out?" Shelley said. "Rhonda's been leading him around by the nose, making him fetch and carry and write eulogies and call relatives. He can't be too stupid to have seen what the police were getting at if he'd had time to consider about it. From his viewpoint, it must be pretty devastating. Whatever his role is in what remains of the firm, think how bad it'll look when it's public knowledge that Stonecipher and Weyrich were keeping blackmail files."
“Wow! I hadn't thought about that!" Jane said.
“But Tony is," Shelley said. "Poor guy. And then you hit him with that marrying Rhonda thing. That was a master stroke, Jane."
“Rhonda sure wouldn't have been flattered at the way he reacted.”
They headed toward the car, just as they heard the first roll of thunder.
Shelley pointed at the sky. "Please note! My lawn watering worked.”
1 9 It was pouring down rain by the time they got home. They'd dropped off the other boys in the car pool and their own two had hopped out. As she got out, Shelley said, "Being in a closed car with a bunch of sweaty twelve-year-old boys is not one of life's dreams. In fact, we may have just had a glimpse of what hell really is like.”
Jane went inside and contemplated the contents of the refrigerator. It was a rare treat to have a range of choices. Of course anything she made would seem ordinary after she'd eaten so much of Conrad's marvelous cooking lately. The rain had been swept in by surprisingly cold air, and Jane thought a stew might be nice, but it was too late to start one. She rejected chili because it wasn't cold enough outside for that and settled on hamburgers, macaroni and cheese, corn, and a salad. Good, plain food.
Katie came into the kitchen and offered to help. Jane tried to hide her astonishment. She put the macaroni and cheese into the oven, started making the hamburger patties, and set Katie to work on the salad.
“That's not veal, is it?" Katie asked suspiciously.
“Veal? Of course not."
“Because I saw a program on television about veal and the way the poor little calves are kept in these tiny pens—"
“Katie, please. I know. And I don't want to hear about it. I can't afford veal anyway so it will never be a political issue around here."
“But not buying it because you can't afford it isn't the same as not buying it because it's immoral," Katie said.
“Comes to the same thing," Jane said, putting plastic wrap over the plate of hamburgers and checking on the macaroni.
“Mom, don't you care about stuff like that?”
This sort of question was normally rhetorical and belligerent, but this time Katie seemed to be asking it sincerely. "Katie, there's so much in the world that a person could be upset about that you could be miserable every minute of the day. Come sit down. The salad looks good.”
They sat at the kitchen table. "It's so hard to be your age," Jane said.
“Yeah, you're telling me!" Katie said.
“You're just starting to really notice the world around you — in an adult way," Jane went on. "And there's a lot wrong with it. But there's a lot right with it, too. A lot of good things.”
Katie nodded. "Like those little kids at the Vacation Bible School. Mom, they're so cute.”
“You're liking this job, then?"
“Sure. It's fun. Too bad they're not paying me better," she said, descending from her high moral plateau to the purely practical.
Jane bit back the response that she and Katie were both lucky Katie had any kind of summer job, otherwise they'd be in each other's hair all the time. As it was, they still had all of August to drive each other crazy since the bible school only ran through June and July.
“So, why don't you care about the cute little calves?" Katie asked, unwilling to let the subject go.
“I do care, but there are things I care about a lot more. You and Mike and Todd being at the top of the list and taking up a lot of space. And then I pick and choose pretty carefully what else goes on my particular list. I drive my group of blind kids to their school once a week during the year because the school can't afford bus service and that's a little way I can help. I helped at the graduation night party, which I think is worthwhile. I work on fundraising things for good causes like—"
“But Mom, those are nice things, but they're so — so small. I'm talking about big problems. Like the environment and peace and stuff like that."