Class Reunions Can Be Murder -- Every Wife Has A Story; A Carol and Jim Andrews Baby Boomer Mystery

by Susan Santangelo

  That left Mary Alice, the only member of my immediate posse who might be available, assuming her nursing stint at the hospital was over. And, more importantly, she might look on this as a change of pace from her non-adventurous life.

  I took a chance and called Mary Alice first, leaving a cryptic message about an invitation to an adventure that she’d definitely want to be part of. “Call me as soon as you get this,” I ended.

  Satisfied that I had conveyed my message with the proper balance of hype and urgency, I called Neecy’s cell phone.

  She picked up on the second beep, and from the noise emanating from her end of the phone, I had interrupted some sort of party.

  “What? Who? Oh, Carol. I’m so glad you called. But you’ll have to talk louder. I can’t hear you,” Neecy said. “Hang on a minute. I have to find a quiet corner.”

  I heard the sound of a jazz trio in the background, then applause. I figured she must be at a party, and I was embarrassed I’d intruded.

  “Neecy, I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “This is obviously not a good time for you to talk.”

  “It’s a perfect time, Carol,” Neecy said. “I’m at a fundraising event for Tony’s campaign. I’m bored to death, and trying not to show it.”

  I explained my idea about a play date for our dogs as quickly as I could. “I know this is short notice. and you probably have a full calendar of campaign commitments, Neecy. But I’m not sure how much longer the weather will be warm enough for the dogs to play outside. What do you think?”

  Yes, I know that was lame. But it was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment. I held my breath, hoping that Neecy would say yes.

  “It’s a perfect time, Carol,” Neecy said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “What? I’m confused,” I said. “Do you mean you want to meet now?”

  “No, Carol.” Neecy laughed. “I was telling Tony that I’d be back in a minute to stand by his side as his adoring wife while he made his speech. That’s my primary job these days.

  “I do have to hang up now, though. And it’s my turn to host a doggie play date. So how about if you bring Lucy and Ethel to play with Porter tomorrow around noon? We’ll have a salad or something light for lunch and catch up while the dogs amuse themselves outside.”

  I couldn’t believe how well this was working out. And, of course, I was excited to see Neecy’s house. I’d heard from other sources that it was drop-dead gorgeous, like something out of a magazine.

  “Please don’t go to any trouble, Neecy.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Carol. I’m so glad you’re coming tomorrow,” Neecy said. “I wanted to talk about Meg with someone who knew her. I still can’t believe she’s gone.” She rattled off an address in a gated community north of the Merritt Parkway and was gone.

  I couldn’t believe my luck. Because I certainly wanted to talk about Meg, too. I could hardly wait until tomorrow.

  Chapter 31

  I’m not old. I’m chronologically gifted.

  “I’m glad you asked me to go with you and the girls today,” Mary Alice said. “I’ve missed taking care of them. You know you can call me any time to come and walk them, even if you’re only going to be gone a little while.”

  “I know I can,” I said. “And I appreciate it. The dogs have missed seeing you, too, as I’m sure you can tell from the enthusiastic greeting you got from both of them.”

  Mary Alice laughed. “It’s been quite a while since I was kissed so enthusiastically.”

  I squelched the response that sprang into my brain before it had a chance to reach my mouth. What’s up with the online dating thing? Had any good dates lately?

  But, of course, when you’ve been friends for as long as Mary Alice and I have, you can read each other’s thoughts.

  “I know you’re wondering what’s happening with my love life these days, Carol. Thanks for not cross-examining me about it. Let’s just say that I’ve met a lot of frogs over the past several months, but so far I haven’t found a prince to kiss. Internet dating isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She slid me a sideways glance. “But you’ll be the first one I tell if I finally meet someone who seems like a prime candidate.”

  I reached over and patted her hand. “Any guy would be lucky to date you,” I said like the loyal friend I am. “And today, I’m saving my cross-examining skills to use on Neecy. Having you along is a real bonus, and should make getting information about Meg easier.”

  “Assuming Neecy has any information that we don’t already know,” Mary Alice reminded me. “Didn’t she say she hadn’t heard from Meg in years?”

  I nodded. “That’s true. But I’m betting that she can fill in some blanks on Meg’s years in Fairport. For instance, who was the wealthy family that Meg’s parents worked for?

  “I guess we’re here,” I said, swinging my Jeep into a pebbled driveway that led to a house bigger than mine, Nancy’s and Claire’s put together.

  “Wow. This is some place,” I said. “It reminds me of an English country estate.”

  “I know,” Mary Alice said. “The house looks like a smaller version of Downton Abbey.” At my questioning look, she clarified. “Don’t you ever watch Masterpiece Classic on PBS, Carol?”

  I shook my head. “Jim and I don’t watch much television these days. Except The Weather Channel, of course.” I was not about to admit that I am hopeless addicted to Say Yes To The Dress on TLC. Or the Home and Garden network. I got hooked on Say Yes To The Dress when Jenny was looking for a wedding gown last year. And I’ve always suffered from house lust.

  I suppose you’re all thinking that I’m easily impressed. Maybe even criticizing me for being bowled over by what was, by my standards, a mansion. I forgive you. And if you’re ever lucky enough to be invited to Neecy’s house, I know you’ll say that I didn’t exaggerate. Just this once.

  I parked the Jeep beside the farthest bay of the four-car garage. “This house has more wings than a heavenly choir,” I said, smoothing the wrinkles from my chinos and attempting to look presentable. “I never expected anything this grand.

  “Let’s ring the bell first, before we get Lucy and Ethel out of the back. Just in case we have the wrong house. There was no name on the mailbox at the bottom of the driveway, and I don’t want to be embarrassed. In this ritzy neighborhood, if we’re at the wrong address, the owners are liable to call the police.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Mary Alice said. “You have a relative by marriage on the force, and he’ll vouch for you.”

  Maybe not all the time. And especially if I’m poking my nose into something I shouldn’t be. Like now, for example.

  I didn’t really admit that to Mary Alice, of course.

  Neecy must have been watching for us, because the heavy oak door flew open before I could even ring the bell. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I try to head guests off before they ring the bell,” she said. “The sound makes Porter bark like the dickens, and it takes forever to quiet her down.

  “Mary Alice!” Neecy said, throwing her arms around my traveling companion. “I’m so glad you came, too. I don’t entertain too much these days. In fact, we’re usually not home with all these crazy campaign events we have to attend. I’ll be happy when it’s all over.”

  “And you’ll be even happier when I win the election,” said a deep masculine voice from the top of the staircase.

  “Well, of course I will be, Tony,” Neecy said. “I thought you’d already left for the Kiwanis luncheon. Come and say hello to some friends from high school.”

  Wow. I mean, WOW. If I was dazzled by the house, I was even more dazzled by Neecy’s husband.

  My immediate impression was of a man in his late fifties who took very good care of himself. Not too tall. Not too short. An athletic build (no evide
nce of the extra poundage that My Beloved was carting around), gray hair that caressed his neck (but neatly – not shaggy), clean-shaven (no salt-and-pepper beard that some men attempt to grow in their later years in a vain attempt to hide a flaccid jowl line). Beautiful brown eyes. What we used to call “bedroom eyes.” Well-dressed, but not dressed up. Business casual, I think it’s called.

  But all of this was just the icing on the cake. The man exuded charisma. Lordy, I would have followed him anywhere. And when he took both of my hands in his, I almost melted into a warm puddle right there in the foyer.

  “Carol Kerr,” Tony said, giving my hands a firm squeeze, “I’d know you anywhere. You were beautiful in high school, but you’re even more beautiful now.”

  I laughed self-consciously, a flush creeping up my neck. It was a long time (like, never) that anyone ever told me that I was beautiful.

  “I bet you say that to all Neecy’s classmates,” I quipped.

  Gosh, Carol, what a stupid thing to say. Couldn’t you come up with something more intelligent than that?

  “And you’re Mary Alice Bennett,” Tony said, turning his considerable charm onto my usually shy friend and achieving the same effect with her as he had with me.

  Neecy linked her arm through Tony’s and gave him a wifely peck on the cheek. “He cleans up well,” she said. “Usually, if he’s going to a construction site, he’s in jeans and work boots. But since he’s running for state senate, he’s spiffed up his wardrobe.”

  Tony laughed. “Neecy’s right. She knows me too well. And she’s been very supportive and understanding about my decision to run for office. Even if it takes me away from home more than she’d like.”

  Recovering myself and trying to act like the grown-up person I’m supposed to be, I said, “I’m surprised that you recognized us after so long, Tony. I don’t think I’d have recognized you if I hadn’t seen your picture in the paper so often recently.”

  “Well, it helped that Neecy clued me in that you were coming today,” Tony admitted with a grin. “But, believe me, I would have known you anyway, even if she hadn’t told me. Sometimes I think that, the older I get, it’s easier for me to remember people from my younger days than someone I’ve just met. Which can be a problem when you’re running for office, like I am. I’m supposed to remember the names of everyone I’m introduced to. And at least one pertinent fact about that person, too. That’s what fills the campaign coffers and makes people want to volunteer to help me win this election.”

  A cynical view of the political process, to be sure. But probably an accurate one.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Tony,” Neecy said. “You had a phone call while you were in the shower. The college students who were coming into headquarters to get that mailing out won’t be able to help after all. The office is trying to find some other volunteers, but so far, have been unsuccessful.”

  “The timing couldn’t be worse,” Tony said, clearly upset at Neecy’s news. “We need to get those brochures into voters’ mailboxes by the weekend. We’ve spent weeks writing the copy and building a targeted list for this mailing.”

  And suddenly I heard someone ask, “How many pieces are in the mailing? Maybe I could help.”

  Good lord, that was me.

  Chapter 32

  My parents taught me to respect my elders.

  But at my age, I have no one to respect.

  “He has that effect on everybody, Carol,” Neecy said. “But it’s a pretty quick recovery, thank goodness.”

  Mary Alice, Neecy and I were finishing a delicious low-cal lunch on Neecy’s expansive porch. The rear wall of windows gave us a perfect way to keep tabs on the three canines, who were running around a large, fenced-in area chasing heaven knows what. And having a great time.

  “Tony certainly is a charismatic person,” I said.

  And sexy as hell. I didn’t really say the last part, of course.

  Neecy laughed. “You don’t really have to do that mailing, Carol. I know how persuasive those big brown eyes can be. I can find someone else to pitch in.”

  “No, Neecy, I’m happy to do the mailing,” I said. Even though I was hypnotized into it. “Jim is so involved in local politics, and he’s always talking about people and issues that I know very little about. It’s time I got more involved.”

  “I’ll help, too,” Mary Alice said. “After all, we’re Mount Saint Francis girls. We should help each other out more often. And I have to admit, those brown eyes are pretty persuasive. I wish I’d find somebody like him through my online dating service.”

  “As I said, he has that effect on everyone,” Neecy said. Then she frowned. “Well, everyone except my parents. They said he was a bad influence on me, and did everything they could to break us up.”

  I nodded. “I remember you told me this at lunch, Neecy. It must have been very difficult. You and Tony were a modern-day Romeo and Juliet.”

  “I never thought about it that way,” Neecy said. “You’re right. A forbidden boyfriend who wore a black leather jacket and rode a motorcycle was irresistible to me. And, as you said, there were those brown eyes.”

  My toes curled at the memory.

  Mary Alice looked at me and shook her head a little. She was right. It was time to move the conversation along.

  “Now that Meg is gone,” I began, “I’m realizing that, even though we went to high school together, I never really knew her at all. For instance, I always thought Meg’s family was rich. I found out recently that wasn’t true. Meg’s mother was the housekeeper for a wealthy local family, and her father took care of the grounds. I wonder who that family was.”

  “That’s an easy one, Carol,” Neecy answered. “Meg’s parents worked for my family. Although, the way Meg acted most of the time, you’d think that it was the other way around.”

  I choked on my iced tea, and spilled it all over the tablecloth.

  “Oh, Neecy, I’m so sorry,” I said, totally embarrassed and trying to blot up my mess with a napkin.

  “I’m the one who’s sorry,” Neecy said as Mary Alice handed me another napkin. “My timing was bad. I didn’t mean to make you choke. Let me pour you a fresh glass of iced tea. And don’t worry about the tablecloth. It’s machine-washable.”

  Neecy’s hands shook as she attempted to pour me a fresh glass. “I guess I’m nervous,” she said. “I’ve never told anyone the real story about Meg and me before. Tony knows, of course, because he’s part of it. Excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Mary Alice and I sat in silence for a moment. “I don’t blame Neecy for being nervous,” I finally said. “I think I’m nervous, too. I’m not really sure I want to hear what Neecy has to say.”

  We heard the sound of water running in the kitchen, then the tap of Neecy’s feet as she hurried back onto the porch. She looked much calmer now.

  “Sorry about that,” Neecy said. “It’s wonderful what washing your face can do. Now, where was I?’

  “You’d just told us that Meg’s parents worked for your family,” Mary Alice said. “And,” looking at me, “that’s when Butterfingers here spilled iced tea all over the tablecloth.”

  “Thanks for that reminder, Mary Alice,” I said. “I’ll get even with you later.”

  Neecy laughed. “It must be wonderful to have a friend you can say something like that to, and not hurt that person’s feelings.”

  “Who says Carol didn’t hurt my feelings?” Mary Alice asked, smiling.

  “Backatcha, girlfriend,” I said, returning her smile with one of my own.

  “Everyone at school thought Meg and I were best friends,” Neecy said. “Like you two are. But we weren’t. Far from it. In fact, to tell the truth, I really hated her.”

  Join the club.

  “Meg worked very hard to make everyone believe she was a rich
little Fairport princess. Of course, in order to do that, she needed someone to help her. Me.”

  Neecy sighed. “I guess I should tell you both the whole story.”

  I wanted to say, “Spill it.” But I didn’t.

  “Meg’s parents came to work for my family when I was fourteen years old. At first, I was thrilled to have someone exactly my age living in our house.”

  Neecy held up her hand. “Slight correction. Meg wasn’t actually living in our house. She and her family lived in a cottage on the grounds. We became good friends. At least, from my point of view. I was very lonely, the typical overprotected poor little rich girl. And, as things turned out, a real jerk, too.”

  Neecy took a deep breath. “When Meg first came, we were very close,” she went on. “I even lent her some of my clothes. And we shared secrets. Lots of secrets.” Neecy giggled. “Maybe, too many secrets.

  “Anyway, I bet you’ll be surprised to hear that Tony – my Tony – dated Meg before he dated me. But he chose me instead of her. How about that?”

  It was hard to know where to go with the conversation after an announcement like this. Even for someone as nosy as me.

  “Meg was in my room all the time, helping herself to clothes she could wear for some hot date,” Neecy said. “My parents thought it was wonderful that I had such a close friend. Hah! I wonder what they would have said if they knew how often she’d saunter into the house, go up to my bedroom, and take something from my closet.”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. I bet they would have said that I should be flattered that Meg wanted to wear my clothes. They thought she was the best thing ever. At times, I thought they loved her more than me.”