Motherhood Is Murder

finished and two moms holding their towel-wrapped babies followed us into the area.

One mom put her baby into a crib and rummaged around a locker for shampoo. The other mom simply turned on the shower and ducked herself and her baby under it.

My cell phone rang from the depths of my diaper purse.

?I?ll let you get that,? the instructor said, leaving the room.

I looked around for a dry place to put Laurie and settled on the crib next to the one with the other infant.

As I dug around for my cell phone, one mom said to the other, ?So, when do you guys leave for Germany??

They carried on their conversation as I answered my phone. I didn?t catch it in time but read Gary?s office number on the caller ID in the missed call window. I waited for the voice mail beep and listened to the message as soon as it came through. It was his secretary looking for my status report.

Darn. I?d have to go home and send him something quick.

As I put away my phone, I heard the mom showering say, ?Thank God we?re traveling now. Did you know the airline makes you pay for an extra seat if your baby is over two??

I picked up Laurie and headed out to the reception area. The desk was empty. I looked around, certainly there were still people in the pool area, but the instructor who had given me the tour was nowhere in sight.

?Don?t tell anyone,? I whispered to Laurie.

I circled around the desk and flipped the book open. I saw where the woman had added my name to the wait list.

Number 187!

Jeez, this place was in demand.

I quickly turned the pages of the book. A computer printout of class rosters was stapled into the pages. I found the Tuesday 10 A.M. class and baby Amanda?s name.

There was a neat row of little checkmarks in each graph box representing all the Tuesdays in the past three months.

Perfect attendance.

Miss No-Nonsense and her little sprout had been here at La Petite Grenouille on the morning Celia was poisoned.

I looked up from the book and jumped to find the instructor standing in front of the desk, glaring at me.

?What do you think you?re doing!? she demanded.

Shoot!

?Uh. Nothing . . .?

?Are you trying to put your name at the top of the wait list!??

?What? No! I . . .?

She crossed to behind the desk and advanced on me, causing me to back away from the book. Laurie let out a little whimper.

The woman harrumphed and opened the book to the wait list page. She studied it a moment, then took a pencil from a cup on the desk and erased Laurie?s name from the last line.

?Hey! You can?t do that!? I said.

?Oh? Can?t I?? she asked, pushing the eraser debris from the book with a smug look.

I was blowing Laurie?s chance at swim lessons at the premier spot in San Francisco!

?Just because I was snooping a little . . .?

She motioned to the front door. ?Thank you for coming by, Mrs. Connolly.?

I arrived home in a funk. Jim was online searching for recipes on turkey brines.

?I got Laurie boxed out of swim classes.?

?Hmmm. Do you think this one sounds good?? He handed me a printout as I passed Laurie to him.

?I?ll have to leave the turkey brining overnight,? Jim continued. ?Maybe I can use the ice chest again??

?The hag at the front desk erased our name off the list.?

?What hag??

?I?m telling you. No swim classes for Laurie. We were axed.?

Jim looked surprised. ?What does she need swim classes for? She?s barely awake for five minutes at a time.?

?Well, you know, by the time she?s ready, we won?t be able to take her there. They have a long wait list and now we?re not even on it.?

?Where??

?The little frog swim place.?