Grime and Punishment

And, in the fall, bronze and red chrysanthemums.

Thelma arrived in her Lincoln, which looked like a metallic gray galleon under full sail. Jane didn't hear her coming, and was surprised when Thelma caught her in the yard and said, 'Aren't you worried about chiggers?”

Jane laughed. 'I worry about a lot of things, but not chiggers. I was planning a garden.”

“Oh, dear…'

“What?'

“Well, I know Steve wouldn't have liked it. He was so proud of his lawn.' She scuffed a well-shod toe against a clump of crabgrass. The message was clear. Jane was desecrating his memory by her disregard for the lawn.

Steve's not around to know or care! Jane wanted to shout. But there was no point in getting this afternoon off to a worse start than absolutely necessary. So she ignored Thelma's comment and went on. 'I'm going to dig up that section and have some vegetables. Corn and tomatoes and some beans to can.'

“Jane, you wouldn't! Home-canned beans are the most common source of food poisoning there is.'

“Oh, did you think I meant to eat them? No, no, no. I just meant to bottle them up for the county fair display.'

“Jane, I don't find sarcasm very becoming in a woman. I'm sure Steve would have agreed with me.'

“You'd be surprised—' She stopped, midsentence. 'Never mind, Thelma. Let's go in. I need to stir the spaghetti sauce.'

“How delightful.Spaghetti… again.”

Fortunately, Thelma had pretty well lost interest in the murder next door. Except for expressing horror at being so close to the scene, she found that the subject deprived her of being the center of attention.

Ted's worry, naturally, was how it might adversely affect property values. 'I want you to be able to get every penny you can out of this house, Jane,' he said with genuine concern.

“I'm not planning to leave this house for centuries, Ted, and everyone will have forgotten about it long before then. But I appreciate your con cern.'

“Oh, I didn't mean to suggest that you should leave—'

“I know you didn't.' She gave him a warm smile. Dear Ted, always so afraid he might upset her.

Dixie Lee simply didn't want to hear about 'icky' things like dead bodies.

Uncle Jim, tucking into the spaghetti like he might never get another chance, kept a tactful silence. Jane was relieved that he made no reference to his familiarity with crime and criminals.

The subject only came up peripherally once more, as Thelma was leaving. She made a point of brushing furiously at some imaginary dust on the sleeve of the smart green linen jacket she'd worn. She glanced into the hall closet where it had hung, as if to determine just how filthy it really was.

“You really will have to have someone in, Jane, dear.'

“I did. Day before yesterday.'

“It's a pity one can't get good help these days. Why, when I was a girl, we had a houseful of servants, and they wouldn't have let a speck of dust collect.”

No, you'd have probably given those poor, downtrodden souls twenty lashes, Jane thought.

“And they were just like part of the family. They knew all our little idiosyncrasies; how much starch to put in Papa's shirts, and how Mother liked her bath things laid out. And they knew things about we children that even our parents didn't know about. Oh, Jane dear, I almost forgot She took a large white envelope from her purse and handed it to Jane.

Through gritted teeth, Jane said, 'Thank you, Thelma.”

Ted and Dixie Lee followed her out, and Jane's kids made their break for freedom; Katie and Mike to visit friends, Todd to ride bikes with Elliot Wallenberg on the playground lot. Uncle Jim made as if to join the exodus, but she put her hand on his arm and said, 'Please stay a while.'

“Something wrong?'

“No, I'd just like to visit with you, and there's never time with the gang around.”

Jane poured two beers and went out to sit on the patio with him. A little breeze had sprung up, frightening Willard into trying to sit in Jane's lap. They chatted for a bit and eventually came around to the murder. Jane told him everything she knew, which was precious little, and finished up with a recounting of her conversation with Suzie Williams and the subsequent irritating brush with VanDyne.

“I don't imagine he meant to be insulting, Janey. He was probably sincere about you having a special insight. Most men would never have reason to know specialized things about how a house is run.'

“But it was his manner that made me so mad.'

“Speaking of manner, what was that frozen smile you gave old Thelma when she handed you that envelope? You didn't even open it. And it seems to happen every time we have dinner.'

“It was my allowance,' Jane said.

Uncle Jim sat forward, his look worried. 'Honey, are you having money problems?'

“No, I have plenty. Well, not plenty, but enough, if I'm reasonably careful.' Jim had alluded to her finances before, not out of nosiness, but concern. It was time she explained. 'You know Thelma and her late husband had a pharmacy. Steve and Ted got degrees in pharmacology and business both and they opened the other two big drugstores with Thelma. That was about the time Steve and I got married, and I not only put in all my money — a small inheritance from my grandmother — but I worked at one of the stores for nearly a year without pay, just to help get it off the ground. Well, as Steve's widow, and because of what I put in, I own a third interest, and that envelope she gave me is my part of the profits.'

“Then why call it your 'allowance'?'

“That's what it seems like. I know perfectly well it's my money and I'm entitled to it, but she hands it out like charity and, dammit, I accept it as such. She can't just mail the damned thing or give it to me privately. It's always a production, like a gift.'

“I didn't understand why you've got a third and Thelma has a third and she lives like it's a million a month?'

“Because I don't get all of mine. I had a trust set up for the kids; half of my share goes straight into it. And Thelma has a lot of other investments as well.'

“Have you talked to Ted about all this? I think you should. He's a nice young man. I think he'd understand if you asked him to mail it to you himself.'

“Dear Ted — all he thinks about is the business and Dixie Lee. But you may be right. I'll try it. I know he'll understand, it's just a question of whether he'll stand up to Thelma. He's wonderful at ignoring her, but a confrontation? I don't know.”

They sat quietly. Meow came in from the fieldwith a mouse, which she generously tried to give to Willard, who ran for cover under the foundation plantings. Jim finally said, Honey, how are you getting along? Not money, just everything. Have you met any other men?'

“Good Lord, no! I haven't even thought about it.'

“That's not right, Janey. I know you loved Steve, but he's gone and you—'

“Oh, Uncle Jim,' she interrupted, her voice quavering over his concern. 'You don't understand.'

“It always seems like that, but I do, Janey. I've lost my own wife, remember.”

Jane looked off into the yard, where next year there was going to be a fine garden. It was a day for revelations.

“Uncle Jim, haven't you ever wondered why Steve was out on the road at midnight on the coldest night in February?'

“A business trip, I guess. There was a suitcase in the car.'

“Uncle Jim, he was leaving me.”

Eleven

There was a long silence while he absorbed this. Jane, staring at a nonexistent bank of forsythia bushes, was thinking that if she said this enough times, maybe it would hurt less. The only other person she'd ever told was Shelley, and that was the night of the accident. It had been locked up inside her all this