death hard, and I knew he was worried something might happen to me. I had to reassure him that I was fine. Well, I was, almost.
After hanging up with Samuel, I took a shower and changed my clothes, but I couldn't seem to wash away the image of Ellen sprawled on the carpet.
Blondie, the terrier mix I'd recently adopted, was sitting by the back door, staring at her leash. Her world was a lot less complicated than mine, and obviously she didn't think my finding a dead body was an excuse for skipping her walk. I thought it might do me some good, anyway. But I was still tense when we returned. Blondie had a catlike personalityand went off to the bedroom to sit in her chair.
I tried watching TV, but it didn't help and I only made myself more nervous by constantly flipping through channels.I needed to do something. I wandered around the livingroom, feeling at loose ends. Normally I loved my house, even if Peter was trying to get me to sell it and move to a condo. He couldn't understand why I needed all this space now that I was alone.
But tonight nothing felt right. I didn't even enjoy the way the whole back of the house looked out on the yard. The flower bed and the orange trees barely registered. If Charlie had been here, he'd have known what to do to get me out of this funk. But, then, if Charlie had been here, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have gotten the job at the bookstore, and I wouldn't have known anythingabout Ellen and her damn crochet hooks.
There was only one antidote to my nerves that always worked--cooking. I went into the kitchen, considered my options and chose caramel corn. I'd make it and watch an old movie and try to forget about everything.
None of that paper-bag microwave stuff for me. I poured oil and popcorn into the bottom of a saucepan, stuck on a lid and turned on the fire. The room filled with the smell of it popping, reminding me of movie theaters and events with the kids. I emptied the finished product into a bowl and got ready to make the caramel part. The candy thermometerwas already stuck onto the side of the pan holdingthe butter and sugar, ready to go. The butter portion looked a little scant. I opened the refrigerator, and my gaze stopped on the six-pack of Hefeweizen. I had noticed it on sale and without thinking bought it for Charlie. He loved the wheat beer very chilled with a slice of lemon.
I felt my eyes tear up. 'I'm past this,' I said out loud, and then doubled the amount of extra butter.
Once the caramel mixture reached the hard ball stage, I poured it over the popcorn. While it cooled, I looked through my DVD collection and found a frothy Audrey Hepburn movie.
Popcorn in hand, I hunkered down in the den and started the movie. By the time it was half over, I'd stopped thinking about Ellen's body, and made a serious dent in the candy-coveredpopcorn. Was it my imagination, or were my khaki slacks already a little tighter through the hips? I really needed to find an outlet for my nerves with fewer calories.
Just as Audrey sat down at her typewriter and William Holden began to dictate a love scene, I heard my kitchen door open and shut, and Barry called a greeting. A moment later he came in the den. He was still dressed in his suit, and was pulling off his tie.
'You bought Hefeweizen?' he said, holding up a bottle before taking a sip. 'I didn't know you drank beer.'
There was an odd moment. I almost wanted to say, 'That's for Charlie.' Then logic kicked in. Charlie wasn't going to drink that beer, and neither was I.
'I bought it by mistake,' I said, finally.
Barry's dark eyes clouded, and without my saying any more, he understood. He set the bottle down and didn't pick it up again. He eyed the bowl of caramel corn.
'Have some.'
'There's no connection to Charlie with that, is there?'
I shook my head, and he grabbed a handful. As soon as the flavor kicked in, he got a look of ecstasy.
'Better than beer, anyway.' He dropped his tie, took off his jacket and sank down next to me on the couch. 'I wanted to make sure you were okay. Last time I saw you, you didn't look so good.'
'I think stepping on the leg of your dead neighbor will kind of do that.'
'Yeah, they always say your first body is the toughest.'
'First body!' I squealed. 'How about first, last and everything-in-between body? I don't want a repeat performance.'
'And why exactly is it you were standing over said body?' he asked.
'You understand why I couldn't take the case.'
I nodded halfheartedly. 'Well, Detective Heather ought to take herself off it, too. She's personally involved. She'd like to buy me a ticket to the moon so she could have you all to herself.'
'You flatter me,' he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close.
'No, you're just blind.' I reminded him of the scene in the Sheridan front yard. He didn't seem to have any memoryof the hair flicking or arm touching.
'She's a good detective, fair and impartial. Besides, you didn't do it, did you?' he said, his mouth sliding into a grin.
I rolled my eyes. 'Does the phrase 'all's fair in love and war' mean anything to you?'
Blondie ambled in and looked at Barry.
'Some watchdog,' he said, shaking his head. 'Doesn't she know how to bark?'
'When the mood suits her,' I said, reaching out to pat her head.
'You shouldn't leave your back door open. You never know who might drop in,' he said, leaning in to kiss me. 'Got to go.'
He didn't have to explain. I knew it was something to do with his son. Barry was divorced. His ex lived back east and had had sole custody of him. Jeffrey was thirteen and had recently come to stay with Barry, who was very serious about the father thing. It cut into his social life and mine. But he as always reminded me that if I was willing to kick up our relationship a notch, by moving in with him, getting engaged or, even better, getting married, then things would be different.
I got up and packed the rest of the caramel corn to go. We'd been over this before and again I told him I would rather have a chopped-up social life than a relationship I wasn't ready for.
'Sorry, babe,' Barry said. 'But for me the few months we've been seeing each other are enough to know I want to move on to something more. I understand you still need more time.'
It wasn't just because of getting over Charlie. It seemed like all my life I'd been setting aside what I wanted, for somebody else. My older brother was conveniently always gone, leaving me to deal was my mother, the original diva. Her profession was backup singer, but she was all star at home. My father, the skin doctor, was either at work or quietlyletting her be the center of attention. I felt more like her road manager than her daughter.
Charlie and I had married young. Peter and Samuel came along soon after. Whatever I had thought of for myselfsomehow went out the window after that. I loved doing all the PTA stuff, going on school field trips and attending every game either boy played in. I was glad to keep things together for Charlie at home and help him out at work. But then when he died, something had happened. Once I was semifunctional and realized I had to rebuild my life, I saw it was just that: my life. For the first time there was no one to defer to, and even with the occasional loneliness, I discoveredI liked the freedom. I could do laundry at midnight,fall asleep on the couch reading or have ice cream for dinner, and not have to answer to anyone.
All those years I'd been the wind beneath everybody's wings. Now, for the first time, I was the one doing the flying,It was scary and exciting.
I walked Barry to the door and handed him the bag.
By now the fluffy feeling of the movie had worn off, and I had a stomachache from the caramel corn and was back to thinking full-time about Ellen's body and Detective Heather. There was something I'd forgotten to mention, or maybe I hadn't wanted to mention it. Either way, I'd said nothing about it. Ellen and I had more of a connection than crochet hooks.
CHAPTER 2
SHEDD & ROYAL BOOKS AND MORE FACED VENTURABoulevard, which was the main drag along the south end of the San Fernando Valley. Some city planner types had gotten the idea of trying to make Ventura
