anyway,' Jane said, taking the car keys and grabbing her purse. 'That little cage is cute. I forgot to bring it in.”
Cecily looked at her. 'What cage?'
“The miniature birdcage. The little bamboo thing. Didn't you and Katie buy it?'
“Not that I know of.' Cecily stood back as Katie bounced back past. She was now in her swimming suit and was hopping and pulling on her shorts over it as she went.
On the way to the pool Jane said, 'Is that little birdcage on the patio table yours?'
“I don't have a bird. What would I want with a birdcage? Mom, can't you go faster? I'll be late.”
Jane dropped her daughter, who walked across the parking lot as languidly as though she had hours to spare. Jane knew that was because Katie didn't want to jiggle. Jiggling wasn't cool in her crowd yet. Give them a few years.
Jane quickly consulted the list in her purse. She needed to get wine. She never drank it herself, but her mother was used to a glass with dinner, and she'd neglected this hostess duty so far. She also wanted to talk to Grady. She wasn't sure what she hoped to find out, but something interesting might slip.
Sadly, her visit to the liquor store put her in contact with one of the creeps who'd been asking her out ever since Steve died. She tried to avoid being noticed, but he spotted her and came oiling over where she was lurking behind the wine coolers. 'Hey, Jane! Nice to see you. Lookin' good, honey. Lookin' good. Been gettin' any?' he said.
It was one of those moments Jane sincerely wished she were Katharine Hepburn. Kate would have known how to destroy this jerk with a look and a word or two. 'Excuse me, Walt. I'm really in a frantic hurry.”
She tried to edge past him, but he leaned against a precarious display of wine bottles and looked her up and down. 'Come on, honey. Don't run away. I won't eat you—not unless you ask real nice. Ha, ha, ha.”
Jane felt the red come up her neck. 'If you say another word, I'm going to scream for the police.' 'Aww, come on, don't be like that.”
Jane drew a deep breath.
“Okay, okay, honey. Just joking,' he said, stepping aside. By incredible good fortune, his foot dislodged one of the bottom bottles of the display, and Jane turned away to the sound of crashing and splashing.
As a clerk came running down the aisle, Jane said coolly, 'I think that man is drunk.”
She decided the wine could wait, especially since she didn't know where another liquor store was and certainly wasn't ever going back in this one. She backed out quickly and headed for Grady's office. It was twelve- fifteen. Maybe she could get him to go to lunch with her. But when she got to his office, she was told he always went home for lunch on Thursdays. 'You just missed him, ma'am,' the secretary said.
“I'll catch him there,' Jane said. This suited her fine. More private. Possibly more revealing.
Grady's house was a small ranch style with a lush lawn and fresh paint. It was shaded by big elm trees that had somehow survived the blight, and all around the house were riots of flowers that grew in the shade. It was a very friendly, comfortable-looking house, like Grady himself. She rang the bell, mentally running over her excuse for calling while she waited.
The door opened a crack, and Grady's round, pink face appeared. 'Ah, Jane ...'
“Your office told me you were at home for lunch.' 'Ah—yes. Well—would you like to come in?”
It wasn't a warm welcome, but she couldn't be choosy. 'Thanks, Grady.”
As he opened the door, she realized he was in a bathrobe. His legs and feet were bare. In the middle of the day? He noticed her look and said, 'Spill. I spilled some paint on myself. Ran home to change clothes. Ah—sit down, won't you?”
He was a nervous wreck.
So much the better.
Jane sat down on the sofa by a picture window that had curtains pulled across it. 'Grady, I just was wondering what you make of this whole thing with Mrs.
Pryce. As mayor, I'm sure you're as concerned as I am that it be solved quickly and with as little publicity as possible.'
“Ah—yes, of course.' He was fumbling with a drawer in the end table. 'Cigarette?' he said.
Jane wasn't sure whether it was an offer or a desperate plea. 'Thanks, Grady, I have my own. Would you like one?”
She reached for her purse.
And picked up the wrong one.
Lying next to her purse on the sofa was a very distinctive moss green leather handbag.
Jane looked up and felt herself blushing for the second time in an hour. Grady was undressed in the middle of the day, and Missy's purse was on his sofa Jane stood up so suddenly that he stepped backward in alarm. 'I left my cigarettes at home. I've got to go, Grady. Good-bye. No, don't see me out.”
1 6
“In the middle of the day!' Jane exclaimed for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Shelley patted her shoulder and laughed. 'Sit down. You'll get over it.”
Jane threw herself into one of Shelley's kitchen chairs and fished around in her purse for the cigarette that provoked the revelation. 'Missy and Grady. I can't believe it,' she said, puffing furiously once she'd gotten the stale, battered object lighted. She'd been telling herself she was on the very brink of quitting for almost a year.
“Why not?' Shelley asked, sitting down across from her.
“Well, for one thing, she's a good six inches taller than he is.”
Shelley laughed. 'Jane, it doesn't matter when you're horizontal. Height is a purely vertical consideration.'
“You know what I mean. It's the middle of the day that really gets me. They're grown-ups, not horny kids.”
Shelley reached over and patted her hand. 'Jane, you really have been widowed too long. You're either obsessed with sex or appalled by it.'
“I'm not appalled. Only hugely surprised. Grady and Missy! I had no idea!”
Do
“Jane, people sometimes conduct perfectly happy affairs for years without anybody else knowing. Why do you think they should have let you in on it?'
“Years. My God! The secretary said he always goes home for lunch on Thursdays. Do you suppose . ..?' She grinned. 'Oh, I hope so. But in the daylight?'
“Didn't you ever make love in the daytime?'
“Oh, sure. But that was Steve,' Jane said dismissively. 'The stretch marks and wrinkles were his fault, so they didn't bother me. But an affair—an affair is different. I thought you had to have a gorgeous young body for an affair.'
“There speaks the voice of inexperience,' Shelley said. 'Jane, get your mind out of Grady's bedroom and think about what this might mean. Do you think maybe Missy was upset on Grady's behalf about Mrs. Pryce's accusations? You told me Ruth was madder about the insult to her sister than Naomi herself was. What if it was like that with Missy and Grady?'
“Missy as a murderer? Impossible.'
“But it's no more impossible to imagine than anybody else in the class.'
“True. Except for Bob Neufield. He hates us, and probably with good cause. We should never have gone over there.'
“Just like you shouldn't have gone to Grady's?' Shelley asked.
“Yes. It didn't stop me, did it? I've got to go home and stay out of trouble,' she said, rising.
When she got in the house, the first thing she heard was the tapping of her typewriter. Cecily called from the living room, 'I'll give this up if you want to use it.'
“No. What are you doing?'
“I just remembered something that happened once that I wanted to jot down for my book. In spite of everything, I'm glad we took this class.”
