Uncle Donald strolled up, whistling a show tune, "Younger Than Springtime." He was Gramma's favorite, if only because he had never married and his loyalties were clear. Even his fall from political grace, in the scandal that had sent his senator boss to prison, hadn't shaken Gramma's affection for him.
"Good morning, Sis, Tesser. How do you want to resolve this? We can toss a coin, or cut a deck of cards that I happen to have in my car. High card wins. Loser takes her to the Beauty Palace."
"I'll do it," Judith said. "I took the day off, I might as well."
A reprieve, Tess thought. Yet when she looked at her mother's dutiful, unhappy face, she couldn't just walk away.
"Let's all go. Make it a family outing. My mom and my favorite uncle. And Gramma," she added, when Judith gave her another look. "We could go to S'n'H afterwards, like we used to do with Poppa."
"Why not?" Uncle Donald replied.
"Why not?" Judith echoed weakly, but she looked as if she might have several reasons.
The Pikesville Beauty Palace sat in an old shopping center on Reisterstown Road, near the synagogues that had been built as Baltimore's Jewish families began moving to the north and west. Although the neighborhood was less and less safe as time went on, the Beauty Palace had scores of loyal customers like Gramma, who wouldn't dream of going anywhere else for their weekly sets and periodic root touchups.
"Mrs. Weinstein!" the receptionist said with the chirpy insincerity common to those who dealt with Gramma. "We're all ready to take you back to the shampoo girl."
"You didn't give me one of those Russians, did you? I hate it when they talk that gibberish around me."
"We have you with Lisa today."
"I've never had her. Isn't she the one who snaps her gum?"
"She won't," the receptionist said, her smile becoming more and more of an effort. "I'll speak to her about it."
"Why can't I have Wanda?"
"She's with another customer."
"Then put me with Francie. I always liked her."
"She left to work at a salon in Mount Washington."
"Probably running for her life," Tess said under her breath.
"Don't mutter," Gramma said. "If you have something to say, say it."
"Be nice, everyone," Judith pleaded. A whistling Uncle Donald wandered away, as if he didn't know this trio of querulous women, and developed a sudden fascination with the hair accessories in the display case by the front door.
"Let's just forget the whole thing," Gramma said suddenly. "I don't like the idea of someone new touching my head."
"But you've had Lisa," the receptionist said, a little desperately.
"Put me down for next Wednesday. And make a note: no Russians, no strangers, no gum-snappers. I want Wanda, you understand. Wanda for shampoo, Michael for my set. Donald, bring the car around. We'll just have an earlier lunch than we planned at S'n'H."
Uncle Donald jumped, as if he were a twelve-year-old boy again. Judith smiled feebly at the glaring receptionist, while Tess stared at the ceiling. One big happy, she thought.
Even with Gramma along, it was nice to be back at S'n'H, as the old-timers all referred to the Suburban House restaurant. S'n'H was a sanctuary, a windowless, timeless place with desserts to die for and placemats with supposed-to-be-funny Yiddish translations. Oivay, for example, was translated as April fifteen, a bris was "getting tipped off," and a goy was defined as one who buys retail.
Her breakfast long forgotten, Tess ordered chicken noodle soup with kreplach. ("Kosher-style ravioli," according to the menu.) Gramma decided on a potato pancake, while Uncle Donald chose cheese blintzes and a side order of herring. Judith wanted nothing more than an iced tea.
"That's right, Judith," Gramma said approvingly. "You'll keep your figure."
That was the cue for Uncle Donald, who acted as the peacemaker in those rare moments he realized there was peace to be made. "Has your lawyer finalized the division of that property yet, Mama? If you have any trouble with any of the government agencies involved, you just let me know."
"Not to worry, it's almost done. I'm having a crab feast next Wednesday night and we'll have a little celebration then, sign all the papers together." Even kosher Jews ate crabs in Baltimore, as if there were some unwritten exemption in the dietary laws. "That's why it's important for me to go back to the beauty parlor before then. Can you take me next week, Donald? I know how hard it is for you to get away from work." Not for Judith, Tess noted, who actually did work at work. Hard for Donald, who didn't really do anything.
"A crab feast in your apartment?" Judith asked. "But I crabs are so messy, Mama, you really need to do them outdoors, with picnic tables and newspaper."
"I know. I thought we'd do it at your place. You have such a nice yard. And if we do it outside, you won't have to clean. Working as you do, I know it's hard for you to keep on top of the house cleaning."
Time for Tess to jump into the cross-hairs. Conversation with Gramma was a little like running through a sniper's alley, each family member taking a turn as the target.
"Did you subdivide the land so each one has his or her own parcel, or are you transferring the deed so we're all listed as the owners?"
"One piece, so it's all for one, one for all. My children and grandchildren are going to have to learn to get along eventually."
A new complaint. Hand it to Gramma-at an age where most people declined to take on anything different, she was always open to new grievances.
"We all get along okay," Tess said tentatively. Gramma was spoiling for a fight this morning. The skirmish at the Beauty Palace had only whetted her appetite.
"You're hard on Deborah, Theresa Esther. She thinks you don't respect her because she's just a full-time mother and you're Miss Big Britches Private Eye, getting written up in the newspaper."
"Did she say that?" Tess was surprised. She thought she and Deborah, intense competitors during childhood, had agreed to an adulthood truce. They may not approve of one another, but they didn't call attention to it.
"No, but I can tell. I have a sixth sense about these things."
"Right. And I bet you tell Deborah that I'm, I don't know, jealous of her because she has a husband and a baby, while I'm ‘just' a spinster with a struggling business. Does your sixth sense pick that up as well?"
"Mama, did you see Hecht's has a sale on the hose you like so much?" That was Judith, trying to get Gramma's scope trained on her and away from Tess. "Would you like me to pick some up for you this afternoon? As long as I've taken the day off, I might as well put it to good use."
Gramma held her hand up at her only daughter like an impatient traffic cop, her eyes still fixed on Tess's. What had Treasure Teeter called that move? Doin' the Heisman.
"There's still time to take your name off that deed, Missy. What do you say to that?"
Tess had much she wanted to say to that. Go ahead, take it away from me, you bitter old woman. Give my share to one of your beloved china springer spaniels. You can't hold me hostage with money. You're mean and you're petty. Poppa probably died because he couldn't take living with you any more.
Uncle Donald started whistling another show tune, "Some Enchanted Evening." Judith simply looked miserable, even unhappier than she had when Tess had glimpsed her in the parking lot outside her grandmother's apartment building. But was the cause of her unhappiness her mother or her daughter?
"I say"-Tess took one last glance at Judith's face-"that I'm sorry if I sounded impudent and of course I'm grateful for your generosity. Can I bring anything Wednesday night?"
A plump, vaguely familiar woman was waiting on Tess's doorstep when Tess returned to her office.
"Miss Monaghan?" She wore a kelly-green suit with a red silk blouse. Merry Christmas, Tess thought, but she was touched at the same time. The woman, whoever she was, considered visiting Keyes Investigations important enough to dress up.