"Since we had Nellie, " Carla said, pulling out a chair, "we never get to sleep in. Though sometimes I let Reggie catch a few extra Zs. Smells like you 're treating us to something yummy."
"Thought we could all use a little cheer."
"Should be a ban on cheer in the morning, " Reggie said. He squinted in the light.
Becki dipped both sides of another piece of bread into the egg mixture. She laid it on the greased griddle with a sizzle. The aroma of butter and vanilla drifted up. When it was ready, she said, "Help yourselves from the bowl of strawberries and the pitcher of maple syrup on the table."
The others walked in.
"Making French t oast, " Becki said. "Yours is up shortly."
"How cool is that, " Gina said. "What can I help you with?"
"Bring the food to the table when it 's ready?"
"Perfect."
"You 're a short order cook too, Aunt Becki?" Tony asked when Gina handed him his plate.
"Know my way around a kitchen."
"Write a food column for a paper, don 't you?" Jerry said.
She was surprised he remembered. "How to Spot an Aspiring Vegetarian."
"That 's why there isn 't any bacon, " said Reggie.
"But not complaining. Delicious. Thank you, " Tony said.
"You 're very welcome. Is Ian coming?"
"He was."
Becki decided to grab a plate for herself and join the others at the table.
"Have any of you made plans since t he big reveal?" Linda 's raven hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail, gleamed like the lacquer on her nails.
Jerry nudged her. "Money 's not a subject for the table."
"How many times have you dragged me to a restaurant for dinner with people I don 't even know, and all we talked about all night long was money?"
"That was business."
"I 'm just saying, it 's interesting, " Linda continued. "I mean, some of us need money more than others. You, for instance, Reggie. But the old broad sure fooled you, didn 't she?"
Stunned silence. Except Reggie, who stood so quickly his chair fell backward, hitting the floor with a splintering sound. His teeth were clenched as tightly as his fists.
Ian chose that moment to saunter into the room.
In an effort to relieve the tension, he said in his pitchy voice, "Mother, Mother, off the wall..."
"Can I give you a hand?" Gina grabbed a dishtowel from the pantry closet.
"Sure. Thanks." Becki smiled. Her hands were busy with a soapy pan. "Most of the dishes are in the dishwasher. I 'm just doing the leftover bowls and pans. Somehow I 'm not surprised to see you here."
Gina grabbed a pan from the drying tray. "Just like old times . You here on holidays, and me following you around like a little puppy."
Becki laughed. "True, how true. Those were really nice times. I loved coming here, being part of a real family. But I was thinking more that it would be you who volunteered to help with the work. Should you be doing it in that outfit? It 's gorgeous on you, by the way."
"Thanks, " Gina said . "I know this designer discount place—I really should take you there."
Becki just smiled.
"Besides, who else is there? Carla is trying to get Nellie to do her homework—always a daunting task . A nd Linda ? Seriously, can you picture Linda offering to do housework?"
Becki frowned. "I think she and Jerry were meeting with the lawyer about something or other."
"Poor fellow." Gina grinned. She could just imagine the scene—Linda trying to charm the lawyer into seeing their side of the picture , and Jerry attempting to bully the man with the threat of a lawsuit to challenge the will.
"Do you honestly think they could overturn the will?" she asked.
"No." Becki was thoughtful. "I can 't imagine anyone suggesting your grandmother didn 't have all her senses when that will was signed. No one could support that. She knew what she was doing."
Gina sighed and picked up a large bowl from the tray. "They aren 't going to like it. And I feel funny about my parents. I can understand her not wanting Linda and Reggie to get hold of her money, but why would she cut out my mom?"
Becki pulled the plug from the sink, letting the water drain. "I think it was a matter of fairness. This way it seems fair . Each arm of the family gets the same amount of money . I t just goes to the next generation. They get control. And she knew you would share with your mom. You 'd give a stray dog your very last bread crust, Gina."
"I like dogs, " muttered Gina. "Not sure about all my relatives."
"Mom?" Gina yelled into the cellphone. "Oh, Mom! I 'm so glad to hear your voice."
"Me too, sweetie. Has it been too awful?"
"Pretty ghastly, Mom. Linda and Jerry are seeing a lawyer . A nd Reggie looks like he 's going to hit somebody. Becki 's here keeping everything going, thank goodness."
"Good for Becki. Give her a hug for me. We 'll be home by the fourteenth to help out with everything."
Gina felt herself relax. "Has it been a nice cruise?"
"Wonderful. Your dad is actually sleeping well and we both need to go on diets. And the shopping. Lots to tell, but mainly I 'm concerned about you. Now don 't you go feeling guilty a bit about this will. I knew about it and agreed with Mother this was the best thing to do. I just didn 't expect to be away to leave you facing it alone. Sorry , Pumpkin."
"I 'm not alone. Tony 's here, thankfully. Oh my goodness, did you hear about Tony being adopted, Mom?"
"Yes, sweetie, I 've known for years. Mandy told me. But don 't tell Tony that."
"I 'm so embarrassed. I was such a fool in the library. I made everyone think it made such a difference. And it doesn 't at all."
"Doesn 't it?" The voice through the cell seemed to be fading. "I would imagine it makes rather a lot of difference."
Chapter 6
Carla crept out of the bathroom adjoining their bedroom. She 'd dried her tears and changed. A long-sleeved sweat shirt. Sweat pants. Clothes that hung loosely against her torso. Soft, comfortable clothes. And no one would see the bruises. As she walked toward the bed, she said, "Maybe I should tell everyone Mom was sick."
He was sitting on the bed. Feet over the edge. "She didn 't want you to, right?" There was still an edge to his voice.
"No." She sat down beside him. She knew what would settle him down. When he locked his arm around her waist, she only winced a little.
Canadian weather is so weird. Then Becki remembered her last trip to the Dominican and realized it 's exactly the same all over the world. One minute sunny and you think it 's safe to go for a picnic or invite friends over for a BBQ, and the next minute it dumps on you.
Not a great afternoon for setting off on a long drive. Should she go? Should she stay? Since Carla told her privately about Godmom 's cancer, and how it was advanced enough she took sleeping pills over and above pain medication every night before going to sleep, she 'd decided to call Karl.
"See, on the one hand, cancer explains everything, " she told him, "but on the other, the news doesn 't settle my mind."
"Why not?"
"Did someone snuff out Godmom 's life, thinking he or she was saving her from terrible end days? Or did Godmom request someone help her with an assisted suicide?"
"Anything 's possible, but the coroner labelled your godmom 's fatality a death by natural causes. If he had evidence showing human intervention, he never would have released the body for burial."
"Right."
"So you 're coming home?"
In her mind she saw Karl's lips curve in a smile.
"What evidence would indicate death by unnatural causes?" she blurted.
"In your human intervention scenario? Signs of struggle. Bruising on the face caused by something pressed over nose and mouth."
"Apparently Godmom took sleeping pills to knock herself out every night."
"So accidental smothering is within the realm of possibility. She was found on her stomach, right? Maybe she was too weak to lift
her head up and away from the bedding. You know, like crib death. Your godmother was old and frail. But think about it. Precisely because she was old and sick, maybe she just stopped breathing. When it 's my turn, honey, that 's how I 'd prefer the Grim Reaper take me. In my sleep."
"I suppose."
"One last point to ease your mind, " Karl said. "Say it was murder or euthanasia or whatever. Why would your godmom 's killer leave the weapon there on her head?"
"You think it just landed there?"
"Maybe her body jerked involuntarily. Tipped a pillow from the head of the bed."
They discussed possibilities until Becki said, "Thanks for all your input, hon. I appreciate it. I guess we can talk about it more when I get home."
A half-hour later, Becki peered out the window as the rain continued to smear itself across the window pane. Water gushed along the gutters of the street below. Trees on the boulevard flailed in the wind.
Someone rapped on her door.
Opening it, she was surprised to find Gina and Tony in the hall.
"Can we talk to you, Aunt Becki?" Tony asked.
"Course. Come in."
"You 're leaving?" Gina asked, referring to the suitcase on the bed.
"Well, I came for Godmom 's birthday, ended up staying for her funeral and the reading of the will, and Karl is waiting for me at home."
"What about what we talked about earlier?" Tony asked. "In the garden?"
"I ran into Carla even before I talked to Karl. Did you know your grandma was sick?"
"No."
Becki shared Carla's information and described her telephone conversation. Outside, the rain continued to pound, and though it was afternoon, it felt like early evening.
Tony reached for Gina's hand then and suddenly changed his mind. "Just ha d this bad feeling in my gut."
"You 're not going in this weather, Becki, " Gina cut in.
Becki shrugged. "Won 't last for ever."
"Maybe we should all stay one more night, " Tony suggested.
Chapter 7
"Have you seen my Blackberry?" Jerry charged into the guestroom in a fury.
"You left it in the car, " Linda said, turning from the closet. "Just what are you so het up about all of a sudden?"
"That money, " he grumbled. "How can I be her executor and not even know about it? Nearly e ight million dollars! I swear it wasn 't there when Dad died. So where did it come from?"
Linda shrugged. "Maybe she got left it by another relative. Maybe she had an affair with a wealthy lover."
Jerry looked wild.
"No, that 's not very likely, " Linda conceded. "I know. Maybe she won a lottery."
He gave her a black look. "I 'll tell you, someone had to know. And I 'll bet that someone killed her."
"Oh, Jerry, don 't be foolish." She lifted an empty hanger. "What does it matter? The old bitch is dead, thank the Lord. Don 't go thrashing around stirring things up now."
"I 'll thrash around as much as I want, " he muttered. "She was my mother, dammit. I 'm going to make some calls outside in the car…get on the track of her broker. He should know something and I 'll make him tell me. I am the executor, after all."
"You do that, " she said quietly. She waited a full two minutes after he left before starting down the stairs.
Cancer. Just the thought of it made Gina shiver. Had they been wrong, then? Was Grandma 's death natural, or —Gina had to face the thought—did Grandma plan her own ending? Somehow, Gina couldn 't imagine the grand old lady submitting to the indignity of illness and its treatment. Perhaps, after all, her death had been a good thing. In any case, she could talk with the others about it later at dinner.
Gina headed slowly down the stairs in search of late afternoon coffee. No hope of a Starbucks within fifty miles, so it had to be the kitchen.
"What do you mean you don 't do house calls up here?" Linda 's strident phone voice carried along the corridor. "I know there 's a storm, but how am I supposed to know the difference between sterling and plate? This stuff looks eighteenth century, so that would make it sterling, right? Check for the mark on the bottom…what mark ? I haven 't my glasses he re, for crissake. Hold on a sec."
Linda spotted Gina, covered the mouthpiece, and said, "What are you still doing here?"
Gina stopped abruptly. "Tony and I have to be at the lawyer 's office on Monday, so we 're staying the weekend." She stopped short of asking what Linda was still doing here.
"Do you know anything about silver?" Linda hissed.
"Not a thing, " said Gina, shaking her head.
Linda sounded exasperated. "It 's important. I only get one choice from the lot, so I can 't make a mistake."
"I thought Jerry got to choose something, " Gina said, feigning innocence.
Linda snorted. "Jerry doesn 't know the cost of anything."
And Linda knew the value of nothing. What a pai r, Gina thought. She smiled as she carried on down the hallway.
Nellie was in the kitchen, sitting at the old wooden table with that old monkey of hers for company.
"Hi, Pumpkin, " Gina said cheerfully. "Is that hot chocolate you 're drinking? I may have some too . Quicker than coffee. You know we 're staying the weekend?"
Nellie grinned. "Mom told me. That 's super-duper. We 're playing Rumoli tomorrow and I 'm going to beat the pants off Tony."
"Good." Gina smiled. "I 'll play too."
"We 're playing with pennies, " she warned.
Gina filled the kettle with water. "Glad you warned me. I 'll have to keep on my toes."
She sat down, waiting for the kettle to boil. She took the time to look carefully at Nellie . Her brown hair was uncombed and she was wearing a stained orange t-shirt with ratty old jeans. It occurred to Gina that—in the maelstrom of the last two days—no one had been taking very much time with Nellie.
"How are you doing, sweetheart? This must be pretty devastating. I know you cared a lot about her . A nd goodness knows, this kitchen doesn 't seem the same without her in it."
Nellie frowned. "I loved Grandma. I don 't know why everybody else didn 't. She was great. She let us live here for free, even."
Gina looked down at her hands and tried to find the right words. "I think they were afraid of her. Even I was a little afraid . How can I explain it ? She seemed to know everyone 's weakness and made a point of letting them know she knew."
"What 's so bad about that?" Nellie grumbled. "I wouldn 't be scared about that. That 's silly."
Gina laughed. "People are silly when it comes to their pride, Nellie. Very silly. But you 're not. You remind me of her a great deal, you know, but only in good ways."
Nellie looked up. "What ways?"
Gina paused. She looked around the faded kitchen, taking in the solid wooden cupboards, the genuine tile floor, and the heirloom table. Everything solid and comfortable, and no-nonsense…not apologizing for itself, not pretending to be something it wasn 't.
"You 're smart. She was quick as a whip. You 're a survivor, just like she was. And you look like her. You 're going to be very pretty when you 're older. She was, you know."
Nellie grinned. "I know. I 've seen some old photos. They 're funny."
Gina nodded. "I wouldn 't want to wear those clothes from the forties. Girdles—yick."
"What 's a girdle?" asked Nellie.
"Look it up on the net." Gina rose from the table. The kettle started a mournful whistle. She reached for a mug in the cupboard. "You have one other quality that she didn 't have, sweetie."
"What 's that?"
"You 're kind, " said Gina thoughtfully. "And in the long run, that 's the most important quality of all."
Ian stared at the cellphone in his hand as if willing it to talk. Why wasn 't Andrew answering? Where could he be? He felt the panic rise in his throat. And here he was with all this good news to share. Two million dollars . Who would have thought?
Ian threw the cellphone down on the bed. He paced to the window and looked past the parking l
ot to the dark green hills beyond. Rain had stopped momentarily, but the wind was whipping through fields and bending trees. He hated the country. Gawd, the bugs. Give me a room on the 34th floor of a Marriott in any major city and a chocolate on the pillow at night…blessed civilization.
He checked his watch. They were meeting back at the house for dinner, which meant, in this weather, he should leave soon. At some point he would get Tony and Gina aside , and pump them for details.
What was there between Gina and Tony, anyway? Something was up. Ian was pretty savvy about these things and he sure had a sense of kissing cousins. Well, that was okay by him. And no messy genetic crap now, if they decided to have babies.
Wonder who Tony 's real parents a re ? He never did look Italian enough for this family.
The cellphone rang and he leapt for it. "Yes? Oh, hi, Mom . I 'll be there for dinner . No, you don 't have to come and get me . I can walk . It 's not that bad ."
He listened for a moment.
"No, I didn 't know , " he said . "How awful ."
"Fine, we 'll talk tonight . Love you too ." He turned off the phone and sat down on the bed.
Cancer. Who would have thought it? The old girl always seemed too tough for any disease to take hold and survive in her rawhide body.
Ian shivered. He knew about disease. Two friends had lived with HIV, fighting it for years only to waste away to nothing. It was horrible. Just like cancer.
Whoa! There was a brainwave. Maybe she did herself in. Grandma would never accept losing her dignity. His thoughts were a maelstrom. Oh gawd, would that affect the will? What does suicide do to a will? Or does it just affect insurance? And where the heck did all that money come from, anyway? Surely someone in the family would know.
Ian gazed out the window and frowned. Then he was up on his feet in a flash. His gaze followed a man and a woman dashing across the parking lot to a car. The car was unknown to him, but the woman was vaguely familiar. Good looking too , in a soggy Kim Novak way.
Now that was interesting.
The man glanced over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.
Holy Cats Cannoli, what's going on here?
A Purse to Die For Page 3