“Oh, yeah,” Joe agreed, sitting down at the kitchen
table. “We can use the money with the B&B shut down
for five weeks. I’m expensive to keep, and you’re not
delivering.”
Teasing or not, the comment nettled Judith. Just
after Christmas, her right hip had deteriorated to the
SUTURE SELF
3
point that she’d been confined to a wheelchair. With
the help of Joe and their neighbors, Carl and Arlene
Rankers, Judith had managed to keep Hillside Manor
running smoothly through the holidays. But Carl and
Arlene had left the day after New Year’s for a vacation
in Palm Desert. And even though Joe was retired from
the police force, his part-time private investigations
had become almost a full-time job. It had been a difficult decision for Judith, but she had been forced to cancel all reservations for the first ten days of January,
until the Rankerses’ return. Her only consolation was
that the days in question were the slowest time of the
year for the Bed-and-Breakfast industry.
“We’ve lost at least four grand,” Judith said in a morose tone.
Joe gave a slight shake of his head. “Dubious. The
weather around here this winter isn’t exactly enticing
to visitors.”
Judith glanced up at the window over the kitchen
sink. It was raining. It seemed to have been raining for
months. Fifty degrees and raining. No sun breaks, no
snow, just relentless rain and gloomy, glowering skies.
Day after day of gray, gray, and grayer. Even a Pacific
Northwest native like Judith had an occasional hankering for a patch of blue sky.
“People still visit people,” Judith said, unwilling to
let herself be cheered.
Joe gave a solemn shake of his head. “Not in January. Everybody’s broke.”
“Including us,” Judith said. “Because of me. Renie
and Bill are broke, too,” she added, referring to her
cousin and her cousin’s husband. “Renie can’t work
with her bad shoulder. This is the busiest time of year
for her, with all the annual reports. She usually designs
4
Mary Daheim
at least a half-dozen, which means big bucks. She’s out
of commission until March.”
“When’s her surgery?” Joe inquired.
“A week after mine,” Judith replied. “We’ll be like
ships passing in the night. Or should I say sinking?”
Judith emitted another heavy sigh as she rolled over to
the sink and took a Percocet. Then she took another
Percocet. It couldn’t hurt. Besides, she ached twice as
much as she had the day before.
As a distraction, Judith read the rest of the story
