“What blood type would Summer Dawn be?”
“Her mother’s A and her father’s O. So Summer has to be A or O.” Jack had been consulting a page from a sheaf of Xeroxed material.
“So if Anna and Eve are type B or AB, they can’t be Summer Dawn. It would have to be Krista.”
“Right.”
“I hope it isn’t Anna,” I said, sorry immediately I’d said it out loud, and with that edge of desperation in my voice.
“I hope not, too, for your sister’s sake,” Jack said briskly, and I was even sorrier I’d said anything. I could feel him shoving off my fear, reminding me he had a job to do that he was compelled to finish. I hated the necessity for the reminder. “Here, here’s your sock.”
“Jack, what if they’re all A or O?” I took the sock from him and pulled it on. I had my shoe tied before he answered.
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” he said, but not with any hope in his voice. “Maybe that’s not the way to go. I’ll call Aunt Betty and see if she’s got any ideas. I’ll be in and out, so try here if you need me. Something’s gotta break tonight.”
Before I left my folks’ house for the O’Sheas‘, I dialed a Shakespeare number to talk to my friend Carrie Thrush. As I’d hoped, she was still at her office, having seen her last patient just minutes before.
“How are you?”
“Fine,” she said, surprise in her voice. “I’ll be glad when flu season is over.”
“The house is okay?” Carrie had agreed to stop by once or twice, check to make sure the mail carrier had obeyed my “stop mail” card. I hadn’t thought it was much of an imposition, since she was dating Claude Friedrich, who lived in the apartment next door. In fact, I would have asked Claude himself to do it if he hadn’t been still limping from a leg injury.
“Lily, your house is fine,” Carrie said, good-humored toleration in her low voice. “How are you doing?”
“OK,” I said grudgingly.
“Well, we’ll be glad to see you come home. Oh, you’ll want to know this! Old Mr. Winthrop died yesterday, out at his place. He had a massive heart attack at the supper table. Arnita said he just slumped over in the sweet potatoes. She called nine-one-one, but it was too late.”
I figured the whole Winthrop family had to be relieved that the old tyrant was dead, but it wouldn’t be decent to admit it.
“That family has been through everything this year,” Carrie commented, not at all put off by my lack of response.
“I saw Bobo before I left,” I told her.
“His Jeep went by your house twice yesterday evening.”
“Hmmm.”
“He’s carrying a big torch.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, he’ll meet a gal his own age who doesn’t kowtow to him because he’s a Winthrop. He’s just nineteen.”
“Right.” Carrie sounded amused. “Besides, you have your own private dick.” This was Carrie’s little term for Jack. She thought it was really funny. She was definitely smiling on the other end of the line. “How is your family?” she asked.
“This wedding has got everyone crazy.”
“And speaking of Jack, have you heard from him?”
“He-ahhh-he’s here.”
“There? In Bartley?” Carry was startled and impressed.
“It’s work,” I said hastily. “He’s got a job here.”
“Right. How coincidental!”
“True,” I told her warningly. “He’s working.”
“So you haven’t seen him at all, I’m sure.”
“Oh, well… a couple of times.”
“He come by the house?”
“Yes. He did.”
“Met your parents,” she prompted.
“Well, OK, he did.”
“O-kay.” She drew out the word as if she’d proved a point. “He coming back to Shakespeare with you?”
“Yes.”
“For Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“Way to go, Lily!”
“We’ll see,” I said skeptically. “And you? You’ll be there?”
“Yes, I’m cooking and Claude is coming to my house. I was going to go to my folks‘, even though it’s such a long drive, but when I found out Claude was going to be on his own, I told them I’d have to see them in the spring.”
“Moving fast, there.”
“Nothing to stop us, is there? He’s in his forties and I’m in my midthirties.”
I said, “No point taking it slow.”
“Damn straight!” Carrie’s voice grew muffled as she told her nurse to call someone and give him his test results. Then her voice grew clearer. “So you’re coming home when?”
“The day after the wedding,” I said firmly. “I can’t stand it another minute.”
She laughed. “See you then, Lily.”
“OK. Thanks for checking the house.”
“No problem.”
We said good-bye and hung up, both with a few things to think about.
I could tell that Carrie’s relationship with Chief of Police Claude Friedrich was flourishing. I hoped it would last. I’d liked both of them for months before they’d ever looked at each other.
I found myself wondering how Bobo was feeling about the death of his grandfather. I was sure he felt some grief, but it must be at least a little mixed with relief. Now Bobo and his parents would have some peace, some time to recoup. It was almost possible they would rehire me.
I dragged myself back to the here and now. It was nearly time for me to go to my baby-sitting stint. I would be in the O’Sheas’ house; I could search it as I had the Kingery house and the Osborn house. I was staring at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, refluffing my hair and powdering my face, when I finally registered how miserable I looked.
Couldn’t be helped.
In my room, I pulled on my Christmas sweatsuit, the one I’d worn in the parade. I guess I thought the bright color might make me seem more kid-friendly. I ate a bowl of leftover fruit salad, all that I could find in the refrigerator since everyone else in the house was going to the supper.
Dill’s friend Berry Duff rang the doorbell while I was washing up, and I let him in. He smiled down at me.
“You look cheerful,” he remarked.
“I’m going to baby-sit.”
His face fell. “Oh, I was looking forward to talking to you at the dinner.”
“Last-minute emergency. The baby-sitter came down with the flu and they couldn’t find another one.”
“I hope it goes smoothly,” Berry said, rather doubtfully, I thought. “I have kids of my own, and a handful at a time is kind of a rough evening.”
“How old are yours?” I asked politely.
“I got one who’s nine, one who’s in the tenth grade… let’s see… Daniel’s fifteen now. They’re both good kids. I don’t get to see them often enough.”
I remembered that his wife had custody of the children. “Do they live close enough for you to see them regularly?” I asked.
“Every other weekend,” he answered. He looked sad and angry. “That’s just not as good, nowhere near as good, as watching them grow up every day.” He folded himself into one of the kitchen chairs, and I returned to the sink to finish drying the dishes.
“But you know where they are,” I said, surprising even myself. “You know that they’re safe. You can pick up the phone and call them.”
Berry stared at me in understandable surprise. “That’s true,” he said slowly, feeling his way. “I’m sure the situation could be worse. You’re saying, if my wife ran off with them, went underground, like some spouses do to keep the other parent away from the kids? That would be horrible. I guess I’d just go crazy.” Berry mulled it over for a minute. “I’d do anything to get them back, if that happened,” he concluded. He looked up at me. “My God, girl, how did we get on this depressing topic? This is supposed to be a happy household! Wedding tomorrow!”