“No, she said he was working at home. I don't know if he has an office outside his house or not. He's terribly careful of her. That's why she has to be walked home after dark with an adult watching. And she can't accept rides. He even does those braids she wears. He's going to have a rough time when her hormones and independence kick in. He must be a good dad, but he's not much of a neighbor."
“I think maybe he's just awfully shy," Shelley said. "Sometimes shy people seem arrogant and aloof when they're really not."
“Didn't Suzie say she knew something about him?" Jane asked. "You might ask her about him.”
Mel didn't seem too interested. He was studying his list. "I'm afraid of your friend Suzie," he said with a preoccupied half-smile. "Did you say she was in the basement with the men?"
“Naturally," Shelley said with a smile.
“And there's Ginger, of course, who isn't on the map," he mumbled as he fought to roll up the wrapping paper map. It had silly-looking Santas on other side. Jane wondered why she'd ever bought it. It's appropriate, in a way, she thought, but he's sure going to look ridiculous having it on his office desk.
“What about the rest of his television crew?" Jane asked. "They had to spend a lot of time taking orders from him. He couldn't have been a pleasant person to work with."
“Three of them, and they alibi each other. Having coffee and doughnuts at the convenience store. The clerk said their van, which is pretty noticeable, was sitting in the lot the whole time. And none was foolish enough to pretend to have liked Lance. That would have made me suspicious.”
Shelley was frowning. "I'm not so sure it has to be someone in the neighborhood. Nobody but Julie, Jane, and I knew she'd invited him. And he was promptly uninvited."
“Yes, but you know what a blabbermouth Julie is," Jane said. "She probably called all her friends on the block and carried on about her celebrity coup before she even dropped the bomb on me. And she's unlikely to have called them back to tell them I'd made her retract the invitation.”
Mel stood up and gathered his paperwork. "I'm off to see your Mr. Pargeter."
“Good," Jane said cheerfully. "I have another party to hostess today."
“I guess I should tell Mom good-bye," Mel said.
“Is your furnace fixed yet?" Jane asked, rather pointedly, she feared.
“I don't know. Why do you ask? Mom's not being a nuisance, is she?”
“Oh, no. Not at all," Jane said with a false smile.
When he'd gone, Shelley said thoughtfully, "I think the Bible's wrong."
“The Bible?"
“Sure, the story is that God made Eve out of Adam's rib. I think God made Eve out of Adam's brains, which accounts for why men are men.”
Jane laughed. "She's his mother, Shelley!
Name me one man who can see through his mother."
“I can't. And you'd do well to keep that in mind.”
Twelve
The kids finally stirred themselves, slouched · downstairs, and messed up the kitchen fixing themselves breakfasts of varying degrees of sloppiness. Jane made Todd clean up the milk mess he'd made with his cereal, Katie the cookie crumbs, and Mike the granola bar wrapper. She'd done enough cleaning, washing up, and putting away last night after the caroling party that nothing remained to do before the cookie party except a little random tidying up. Jane vacuumed while Shelley put a fresh cloth on the dining room table. The kids had disappeared and Addie had not come back downstairs.
Jane and Shelley sat down in the living room. "If I had any sense, I'd be frantic at this point," Jane said.
“No need. Everything's under control."
“That's what's scary. It's the time everything seems to be under control that the plumbing backs up and the furnace goes out. It's a rule."
“Speaking of furnaces, and Mel's in particular," Shelley said, lowering her voice, "how longdo you think you're going to have dear Addie here?"
“Not long, I hope. I want to like her, Shelley, and I just can't. She did a good job raising Mel, and I've got to admire her for that, but—"
“She doesn't want to let go of him?"
“That's my guess. Or maybe she just disapproves of me. And with good reason. I'm a couple years older than he is, I've got one grown-up son and two teenagers and no job, let alone a successful career or social position or any of the things women like in a daughter-in-law. You couldn't blame her for thinking I'm just looking for a husband to support me and help me with the kids and college tuition and all."
“Are you looking for a husband?" Shelley asked.
Jane stared at her. "Shelley, you astonish me. You're usually telling me what I think, not asking."
“So, I'm asking."
“I'm not looking for any old husband. These years since Steve died have been some of the best in my life. Well, that's got a lot to do with Steve's personality, I guess. But I'm pretty happy with things just the way they are and don't much miss washing a man's Jockey shorts and sorting his socks. I like having the closet and all the drawers in my bedroom to myself and having a collection of books I'm reading all over the bed. It used to make Steve wild to crawl into bed and discover an Agatha Christie under his pillow.”
Shelley's attention had wandered. "What are those strange noises upstairs?"
“Probably Mike moving stuff around. Or Katie rearranging her room for the eightieth time. Do you think we dare actually go out to lunch? The guests won't arrive until two. We could make it back in plenty of time to get the coffee started."
“I guess we'll have to invite Addie along," Shelley said glumly.
Jane sighed. "I guess so. With any luck, she'll turn us down.”
Jane went upstairs and tapped lightly on the door to the sewing room. "Addie? Shelley and I are going to lunch and I wondered—”
She stopped speaking as Addie opened the door.
Jane came down a few minutes later, walking hard on her heels. "Let's go. Now," she said grimly.
Shelley knew the danger signs and quickly shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat. A moment later, as they were getting into Shelley's car, which was parked in her driveway, Pet Dwyer tapped on Jane's window. Jane yelped with surprise and opened it.
“Mrs. Jeffry, you've having your cookie party today, aren't you?"
“I am," Jane said, "but I'm afraid kids aren't invited."
“But is my dad invited?”
Jane thought for a second. The neighborhood cookie parties had traditionally been girly-girly affairs, but times had changed. Pet's dad was just as much a single, stay-at-home parent as Jane herself was.
“Well, of course, Pet. I'm very sorry I didn't think to invite him sooner. We're just leaving, but I'll stop and ask him on the way."
“You don't need to. I'll tell him. He'll bring his fudge. He's making it now."