Memories Monday -- WWCW What Would Carrie Wonder?

As they say in the old detective movies, there’s been a break in the case!  The police have found Margaret’s diaries and letters under a ceiling tile.  They were written about and to this person she was having an affair with.  Naturally, the other party was married.

Karen was delighted that she had been right.  Nikki wondered if Margaret had had the drop ceiling put in especially to hide the letters.  I agreed that she was organized and tidy enough to do that.  If only she’d been a little bit tidier with her life.

They told me not to be such a churchlady.

“At least she had something, even if it ended badly.”

“There’s a difference between your boyfriend breaking up with you with a note on the fridge and stabbing you to death."

Karen and Nikki conceded that I had a point.  But as Carrie Bradshaw used to say, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been worth it.  Margaret had loved tales of passion and hopeless love like Wuthering Heights.  Maybe it had been what she wanted until the last minute.  And I wondered (Sorry, Carrie, but “can’t help but” makes my teeth hurt.) if, looking at my messy but conventional life, Margaret had felt sorry for me.





Not As Festive, but More Fun

They say the no party is really over until it’s been discussed.  Some say that is the best part.  Usually there isn’t much material at a family barbecue, but when the guests are your father and his new girlfriend, who used to be (and actually still is) married to your husband’s father, there are endless possibilities.  But we didn't get to that at home.

After my father and Missy had left, everybody collapsed in front of the television with the remains of the snacks.  Fortunately, we used paper plates, so there hadn’t been much cleanup.

Cilla was taking the pimentos out of the remaining olives and giving them to Duke and wondering why we never have black olives.

“Because they suck,” Betsey said.

“And they aren’t festive,” Josh added.  “They’re all black and boring.”

“And they have those pits,” I added.  “That can be a choking hazard.  Of course there are some with the pits taken out.  My cousins and I used to put them on our fingers.  But we wouldn’t eat them.  Sometimes we’d put them in our pockets and throw them at each other later.  Outside, of course. ”

Ed shook his head.  “And you wonder where they get their ideas!”

“What did your grandmother say when she found them in the yard?”

“I don’t know if she ever did.”

Josh was thoughtful. “It was smart that you did it outside.  That way when the grass was cut, they would get chopped up and the evidence would be destroyed."

“That’s very good thinking, Josh.”  I wondered if he had applied his good thinking to anything else.

Naturally, Cilla started putting the olives on her fingers.  I had to head her off.  “The rule of the game is you have to use black olives.  It doesn’t work with green ones.”

Ed wanted to know why it wouldn’t.  I don’t know if he was really puzzled or if he was just trying to trip me up.

“Yeah, why?” Josh asked.

I am not firm very often.  But there is such a thing as tradition.  “Because that is the rule.  You can’t break a rule.”  The kids understood that.  Ed looked disgruntled.

 

 

 

 



 



 

 

Memories Monday -- Pilgrimage

People are getting tired of the murder;  there haven’t been any new developments.  I keep thinking I should be doing something, like the soccer moms or sweet little old ladies in my mystery books. 

Karen, Nikki, and I rode by Margaret’s house, a small bungalow a few blocks from the library. They’d taken the crime scene tape down, if it had ever been up.   It seemed odd that she would buy a house since she was single.  “How did she get the money?” Nikki asked.  “Maybe she was a spy.  Or she’d been blackmailing somebody for years.  Or several somebodies.”

“Or she had a sugardaddy.  And he got tired of it,” I said.  “But I can’t imagine her doing it or even making out.”

“You know what they say about the quiet ones.  They’re wild in the sack.  She probably got loud, too.”

“Karen!”  I was shocked.  Then I had to laugh.  Then I got embarrassed picturing Margaret in that situation.

We didn’t get to go to the grave because even though the name of the cemetery had been in the obituary, there wouldn’t be a marker and we wouldn’t be able to find it.

So we went to Friendly’s.  I had the fish and chips.  It came with a free sundae.

 

 

 

 

Grilling by the Grill

The dinner went well enough.  I decided to barbecue and eat outside.  That way the kids wouldn’t have to sit in one place and might forget to ask questions.

My father and Missy arrived in separate cars.  I didn’t know if they wanted us to think they weren’t living together or what.  I got everybody settled with drinks and cheese and crackers.  Cilla sat down next to Missy and got to the point quickly.  “Nana, are you still our nana?”

Missy looked a little taken aback.  “Why, of course, I am, Honey.  How could I not want to be your nana?” 

“Are you still Courtney and Dylan’s nana?”

“Well, I’d like to be.  But sometimes you can’t get what you'd like.”

“Cilla, why don’t you come out to the kitchen with me and help put out the olives?”  To Cilla, it just isn’t a picnic or fancy dinner without olives.  But she was enjoying the conversation.

“My Grandma Louie always said, ‘Olives are so festive.’  She used to be married to Grandpa Jack, you know, but she died.”

Betsey had turned up.  “Nana remembers Grandma Louie.”  (Fortunately, she didn’t add “Moron.”)  "She was here with Grandpa Jack for dinners when Nana was here with Grandpa Doug.”

“Is he still our grandpa?”

My head was starting to spin.  I didn’t know if this was making people uncomfortable, but Cilla wasn’t doing anything wrong.  And of course, it must have been very puzzling to her.

“Yes.  You have the same grandparents as ever,” I said.

“But I guess Grandpa Doug won’t be coming here.”

“He will sometimes.”

“But not when Nana and Grandpa Jack are here.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think Grandpa Doug might try to beat up Grandpa Jack?”

“Girls, I really need you to help me.  I need someone to get out the potato chips.”  Fortunately potato chips didn’t inspire any conversation.

Karen asked me how I felt about my father and Missy.  She wanted to know if I felt insecure about sharing my father. 

Nikki asked if I felt conflicted out of loyalty to my mother.  I really didn’t think so.    But maybe I’ve just been too busy to worry about being insecure or conflicted, what with the end of softball season and Betsey’s and Cilla’s flute and dance recitals, getting everybody ready for camp and helping with the church picnic.

Sometimes it’s hard to give your neuroses your full attention.

 

 

Memories Monday Contingency Plans

Ed and I have some of our most interesting conversations in bed.  Last night, I said, “Would you still love me if I murdered somebody?”

He said, “Yeah.”

Then I said, “If I got caught but had a chance for parole, would wait for me?”

He said, “Sure, why not?”

I said, “Do you think your mother would help out with the kids?  Maybe she could even move in.  You could put Cilla in with Betsey and give her Cilla’s room.  Or maybe you could move the girls into our room and take Betsey’s, since there’d be two of them and one of you.  Unless you wanted to leave everything just as I left it for when I got out.”

Every once in while Ed will say something surprising.  “Well, by the time you got out, you’d need new clothes, since your old things would be out of style.”

I had an idea. “If the trial was sensational enough, you could sell them.”  Suddenly I felt very generous, since Ed was willing to wait for me. “You can sell all my stuff, except my Barbara Pym books.  That could help pay the lawyers.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Charlie.  That might upset the kids.  Maybe I could just write a book.”

And they say accountants don't have any imagination!

Meltdown and Cleanup

I don’t know why I lost it after Ed’s remark about the Medicis and Henry the Eighth. At least he didn’t say it was junior high.  The whole thing is, I suppose, but I am too cool to be embarrassed by my own social awkwardness.

Cilla happened to be in the kitchen with us and she looked like she thought she should cry too, but didn’t know why.  She looked at Ed.  He didn’t know what to say.  Josh happened to walk by, took everything in, and asked, “Do you have PMS, Mom?  Would you like some cookies?”

“And a nice cup of tea?” Cilla added.

Ed made me a cup of tea and Cilla brought me some tissues.  Josh found cookies (those sugar cookies from the grocery store that have the icing the color of sidewalk chalk and sprinkles.  I like to just eat the icing.) He even put them on a plate.  I think Betsey’s calling him “Father Josh” has had some effect, because he said, “Now what’s the problem?”

Betsey must have heard the commotion because she came downstairs.  “Mommy’s upset because Grandpa Jack is going to marry Nana because he stole her from Grandpa Doug.”

I was so surprised that I couldn’t even tell them that they were just dating.  Cilla wanted to know if they would get married in Grandma Kate’s church and if she could have a new dress to be flower girl this time.

Later I realized that I really wasn’t thinking straight because I said, “You can probably be a bridesmaid this time since Courtney won’t be in the wedding.”  Courtney is Ed’s sister Allison’s daughter, and of course they won’t be there.  I don’t think Allison is ready for that much healing.

Ed muttered something about Missy’s last wedding being in some field.  Janet had told him he would have to go, and when Doug asked him to be his best man, she’d told him he’d have to do that, too.  She had told Ed and Allison to watch out for cow pies, and Allison, who was going to be a bridesmaid, had said she was just trying to spoil things for her and flounced off to her room.  (I got this story from Janet when we were reminiscing about weddings.)  It didn’t make things any better when Allison did step in one.

Dear Readers:  In case you missed some of the action, the players are:

Jack:  my father, a cute old guy.

Janet:  Ed’s mother, who is now married to Kate, the rector of The Episcopal Church of the Epiphany.  Janet was left by

Doug: Ed and Allison's father,  for

Missy (Nana), who has just left Doug for my father.

Later I found out that Betsey had heard about it from Nikki’s daughter Ilsa, who had heard Nikki talking on the phone to Karen.

 

 

Memories Monday -- WWMMD? What Would Miss Marple Do?

Today two detectives came to the library and questioned everybody.  They called us into the conference room one by one.  It was like waiting to be called into the principal’s office.  (Not that that ever happened to me.)  Afterwards we milled around comparing notes.  Not much work got done.

To save time, I guess, and probably because we looked like a pretty tame bunch, everyone was interviewed by one officer.  Mine looked like Stephen Colbert and called me Mrs. McDonald.  He seemed interested that I had lunch with Margaret.  What did we talk about? (Books, movies, my children, her niece and nephews.)  Had I ever been to her house?   (I hadn’t.  They didn’t take my fingerprints just to make sure.)  He thanked me and said I’d been helpful, though I wondered if knowing Margaret’s tastes in literature (classic English novels and “cozy” mysteries) and tea (lemon and Sweet and Low) would help.

Not only did he not tell me not to leave town, he didn’t even call me back about “one more thing I forgot to ask,” like Columbo used to. 

The kids were disappointed.  So were Nikki and Karen.   Karen thinks Margaret had something going on with somebody.  Nikki thinks she had been involved with something illegal and had had to be whacked.  I found it hard to believe either of Margaret.  Maybe she had accidentally found out something and had to be silenced.

“Like what?” Karen wanted to know.

“Somebody was embezzling church funds.”  (This happens more often than you would imagine.  Just bring it up among a group of church people and you’ll get enough material for at least ten mystery novels.)  “Or somebody stole something at the library.   We do have a rare book collection.”

“Or maybe she found out about somebody’s affair.”  Karen has always been a romantic. 

Then we discussed me as a suspect.  Naturally, I wouldn’t be doing anything illegal.  So that just left affairs of the heart. I could have killed her because Ed was having an affair with her.  We all laughed at that, since an affair would be too much trouble for Ed.  Actually, I’m a better candidate.  Even though I’m not gay, I might take the trouble for the right person.  In my imagination, that is.  Not that there’s anything wrong with being a Lesbian.  Maybe she had wanted me to leave Ed and had threatened to go public.  Or she was going to dump me and I didn’t want anyone else to have her.  Or Ed had found out and killed her.  I like to think he would have taken the trouble to do that at least.  Of course, if he got caught, I’d wait for him.