you in.”
“I’m real tired,” I whined.
Later George told me the three of us had quite a conversation on the way to the hospital.
I guess Barney gave George the okay. At least, that’s what George said. When I’m well, I’ll ask Barney about that. Having his approval would mean all the difference in the world.
After that, I slept.
Chapter 36
Word For The Day
PERIPATETIC (per’ i puh TET ik) adj.
Walking or moving about; not staying in one place.
RIGHT BEFORE I WAS released from the hospital, I gave sweet Laura DeLand an exclusive, behind-the-scenes interview that was sure to win her a newspaper prize. The next morning, the doctors said I could go home. George had dropped off my truck ahead of time because he knew what I had to do the minute I got out.
I drove over to the Escanaba River, sat down on a rock, and made my peace with the river that had claimed my husband. Those rapids had been an important part of our lives, and it had given Barney years of happiness fighting trout on the end of his fishing line.
It was time to forgive it.
My arm was bandaged and cradled in a sling, making driving difficult. I’d been warned by the doctors to stay out from behind the wheel, but I’d never taken anyone’s advice before and it was too late in my life for me to start listening now.
Walter had understood about the demise of his truck “You’ve destroyed every vehicle you’ve ever driven,” he said. “What does this make? Three? I wasn’t expecting to get it back in one piece.”
I didn’t even have to apologize for the bullet-ridden condition of his trailer. George would replace a few windows and it would be just as good as anything else Walter owned.
Blaze was doing well, back at home with Mary, worrying about the mess Dickey must be making of the town’s law enforcement. So he’s recovering. The family expects some ups and downs. I don’t want to be the one to tell Blaze that he might not be up to sheriffing ever again, that retirement came earlier than he expected. All he used to talk about was retiring, now all he cares about is getting back to work.
If nothing else, he can join the Trouble Busters. We could use a former law officer on the team.
The river brought back some good memories. I closed my eyes and heard my kids laughing and running along the bank, skipping stones and dipping bamboo poles in between the rocks hoping for a hit. We had a wicker creel basket filled with rainbow trout that I liked to pan fry after rolling them in a flour and cornmeal mix.
I stood up and gave the river one last look before heading home.
Fred came running to greet me when I pulled into my driveway. The guinea hens flapped angrily behind him just like always. Cora Mae and Kitty arrived, and we took a slow walk down the road like the doctors advised for Kitty’s recovery.
“I missed the whole darn thing,” she said, walking slow as a turtle. “I could have been a big help.”
“I was in jail through most of it,” Cora Mae told her. “Poor Gertie. You had to solve the case all by yourself.”
“The Trouble Busters will be back in business soon,” I said. “You’ll have lots of time for adventures. Right now we have to recover our strength by being peripatetic.” My eyes slid over to Kitty. This was the test to see how well she really was.
Kitty, shuffling along in the middle, smiled and put one arm around Cora Mae and the other over my shoulder. “We’re a chockablock team,” she said. “We can surmount any acme.”
I pretended like I understood her by nodding my head and smiling back. I wondered where I’d left my dictionary. I’d need it, if she was this good while she was still recovering.
When we got back to the house, Pearl was inside with Grandma Johnson, helping her get ready for Tony Lento’s funeral.
“Which hat should I wear?” Grandma said, trying to chose between two old lady hats.
“The blue one goes best with your hair,” Pearl offered.
“Don’t let that dog in the house,” Grandma shouted at Kitty, who was the last one coming in. My mother-in-law had resumed her position of power. “And, Gertie, don’t mess up the kitchen while I’m gone.”
Grandma Johnson and I were back to our constant battle over kitchen dominance, but it felt good to have everyone together again, even with all their quirks.
And later George was coming over for a sauna and whatever else came to mind.
Grandma plopped the blue hat on her head and was almost out the door, when she turned back. “I almost forgot. I’m so used to your wild ways and me an old woman.”
“What now?” I asked.
“Blaze called while you were out for your walk. The sheriff’s truck was pulled out of Thunder Lake.”
I’d forgotten all about that truck. But Walter had done the deed, not me.
“Your fingerprints are all over it,” Grandma continued, watching me with beady, knowing eyes.
“That’s impossible,” I said, cool and calm, with the authority and experience that comes with owning your own private eye business. Underneath my hard exterior, I was sweating bullets, trying to figure out if fingerprints could really stick to a vehicle if it was submerged.
“He’s fighting mad right along with Dickie Snell,” Grandma said, clacking her false teeth. “Wouldn’t surprise me if they showed up with a warrant for your arrest.”
After Grandma Johnson and Pearl pulled away and Kitty and Cora Mae drove off in the other direction, I packed a few belongings, called my dog, and ran for the woods.
RECIPES
Pea soup is one of the oldest traditional dishes in Sweden dating back to Viking times. Grandma Johnson makes it with pig’s feet, but I like to use ham hocks. Serve it with a dessert of Swedish pancakes topped with preserves. Wash it down with beer.
Serves four
2 cups dried yellow peas
2 quarts of water
2 ham hocks
1 large onion, chopped
1 bay leaf
Salt
Pepper
Thyme
Marjoram
Mustard
In a big pot, soak the peas in the water overnight. Add everything else except the mustard. Cook for one hour or until the peas are soft. Scrap the meat from the hock. Add more water if the soup is too thick. Serve with mustard on the rim of the soup bowl.
