"They were such a hot item."
"You never know how the cookie will crumble." She giggled a little.
"Guess not. Here I am. Miranda, it's as though I never left. Oh, a few things are different, like that old-age home by the railroad underpass."
"Careful. No one calls it that anymore, not since we're getting so close ourselves. It's assisted-care living."
"Bull."
"Well-yes." She smiled. "The town is much the same. There are subdivisions. One on Route 240 calledDeepValley and one on the way toMillerSchool . There's a brand-new grade school which cost the county a pretty penny. But pretty much Crozet is Crozet. Not beautiful. Not quaint. Just home."
"Do you need help with the reunion?"
"What a delightful question." She folded her hands together gleefully.
"That's a yes, I take it." He smiled. "Say, how does Mim look?"
"Fabulous. You know it's her fiftieth reunion this year, too, atMadeira . She endured her second face-lift. She goes to the best and truthfully she does look fabulous. Slender as ever."
"H-m-m." He dusted his fingertips to rub off the sticky icing. "Jim Sanburne . . . I still can't believe that. Is he good to her?"
"Now. For a long time he wasn't and the further apart they drifted the haughtier she got. She was an embittered woman and then a miracle happened. I don't know if you believe in miracles but I do. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. Larry broke the news. She had a mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. Jim stopped running after women."
"Stop drinking, too?"
"He did."
"He'd put it away in high school, I remember that. Class of '49. Good football player. I was glad I had a year after he graduated. Selfish. I wanted the attention."
"You were All-State."
"We had a good team for as small a school as we were." He paused. "I closed up the house inKauai . I'm looking to rent a house here, or rooms. Would you know of anything?"
"I don't wish to pry but what would you be willing to pay?"
"A thousand a month for the right place."
She thought long and hard. "For how long?"
"Well, until December first at least. Our reunion is Homecoming so I might as well stay a month after that."
She smiled broadly. "I have an idea. Let me check it out first. Where are you staying now?"
"FarmingtonCountry Club-pretty funny, isn't it? The way I used to rail about that place being full of stupid snobs. Now I'm one of them-on a temporary basis, of course. And I heard a young fellow was murdered there-what? Two days ago?"
"Unlamented, I'm afraid. People are lining up to lay claim to the deed." She stopped. "Not very charitable of me, but the truth is no one is very upset about the demise of Charlie Ashcraft. How about if I call you tonight, or tomorrow at the latest? I may have just the place."
"Whose animals were those in the post office?"
"Oh, those are Harry's. If they aren't the smartest and cutest helpers."
"I don't remember you being that fond of animals."
She blushed. "They converted me."
He laughed. "Then they do have special powers."
13
"Use this italics pen." Chris handed Harry the fountain pen with the slanted nib.
"Let me practice first." Harry gingerly scratched the pen over scrap paper. "Kinda neat."
"I've divided up those cream-colored cards, the two-by-threes. See? Print the person's name like this." She held up a card. "Carl Ackerman, with the name at the top, leaving room for the title below. Got it?"
"I'll never think of stuff."
"You will, but if all the name tags are done now it will make life easier at the reunion. You'll be surprised at the ideas that will pop into your head between now and then. I bet by the time of your reunion-when is it, again?"
"End of October. Homecoming weekend."
"Right." Chris picked a card off her stack, her deep maroon nail polish making her fingers seem even longer and more tapered than they were. "That's lots of time. How about if I take the first half of the alphabet and you take the second."
"All those M's and S's," Harry laughed. "Thanks for having me over. The cats and dog thank you, too."
"Thanks." Mrs. Murphy sat on the floor, her eyes half-closed, swaying.
"The air-conditioning is perfect." Tucker wedged next to Harry, who sat on the floor, using the coffee table as a desk.
"Right-o," Pewter agreed. She rested on the silk sofa.
Harry eyed the gray kitty. "Get off that sofa."
"Oh, I don't care."
"Silk is very expensive." Harry leaned over. "I told you to get off."
"You touch me and I'll sink a claw into this gorgeous silk." For emphasis Pewter brandished one razor-sharp claw.
"Hussy." Harry backed off.
"She's fine. I rather like having animals about. When I bought this house I liked the fact that it's on an acre. I thought someday I might get a cat or dog."
"Cat," Pewter encouraged.
"Dog," Tucker countered.
"Both," Mrs. Murphy compromised.
"They're funny." Chris laughed.
"That they are. Why did you come here? After the big city it must seem like the back of the beyond."
"Chicagowas all I knew. I came through here two years ago on a vacation-a history tour. I just fell in love with the place. Being a stockbroker makes me pretty mobile and when an opening popped up at Harold and Marshall Securities I said, 'Why not.' I'd saved a good deal of money, which I think will tide me over as I build a new client base."
"People are cheap here. What I mean to say is, it won't be as easy to sell as it was inChicago ."
"I already know that," Chris said matter-of-factly as she inscribed names, "but I needed a shake-up. I broke up with my boyfriend. My walls were closing in on me."
A car rolled into the driveway.
"Who goes there!?!" Tucker sprang to the door.
"Tucker, this isn't your house."
"Oh-yeah." Tucker returned to Harry as Chris opened the door, letting Bitsy Valenzuela into the cooler air.
"Hi."
"Hi, Bitsy." Harry didn't rise.
"A drink?" Chris asked.
"A Tom Collins would be heaven. I'll mix it myself." Bitsy knew the way to the bar in Chris's house, a rounded steel bar with squares cut into the polished steel harboring lights: red, green, yellow, and blue. "Harry, you drinking?"
"Coke."
"Such virtue," Chris teased her.
"That's me." Harry hated inscribing the names.
Bitsy joined them at the coffee table. She sat next to Pewter, who stared up at her and then looked away. "I'm not up to snuff," Bitsy observed.
"She can be snotty," Murphy commented.
"Flies on your tuna," Pewter grumbled, then shut her eyes.
"Where's E.R.?" Chris inquired.
"Home for a change. He's vacuuming the swimming pool. I told him I'd be back in a half hour. It's his turn to cook. He's a good cook, too. Say, if you're hungry I'll pick up two more steaks."
"No, thanks," Harry declined. "I am determined to knock out my half. I've got forty left."
Bitsy picked up a card. "Bonnie Baltier. Great name."
"Wittiest," Chris said.
"How do you know that?" Harry asked.
"Senior superlatives," Chris said. "I've studied your yearbook so much I think I know them almost as well as you do."
"This goes above and beyond losing to Susan Tucker at golf," Harry said.
"Well, I'm enjoying it. And to be honest, I'm hoping to meet some unmarried men through this. You never know." She shyly smiled.
"Take E.R.," Bitsy laughed. She loved him but she liked to complain of his foibles, one of which was the irritating habit of reading magazines backwards to forwards. "I could use a rest."
"Any husband that cooks, I'd keep," Chris told her.
"Amen," Harry said.
"Anyone seen Marcy today?" Chris asked. "I thought she might drop by this afternoon."
"I passed her on the road and waved." Bitsy swallowed half her drink. "She looked miserable. I wish she'd come out with it and say her marriage is crumbling-we all know. I think all this stress is making her sick. Her face is drawn."