Jane was appalled. "Oh, that's so much worse than I imagined. And it goes a long way toward explaining why Sarah is still unbalanced. It wasn't just fate, it was her fault. How unutterably awful."
“I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have told you," Patsy said. "It's horrible even knowing, but it does explain Sarah's condition. And Grace's concern.”
Shelley stood up and came around to the cat's box. "I need to cuddle a kitten," she said.
“We all need to," Patsy said with a smile. "Shelley, you know you've fallen in love with them. Why don't you just admit it to yourself?"
“No way," Shelley said, stroking the mother cat. "I don't like cats. Never have. What's her name?"
“Abby," Patsy said. "Not very original."
“Don't feel bad. Shelley's got a French poodle named Frenchie," Jane said. "She may be my best friend, but I have to say she's not good at names. I've always been sort of amazed that she didn't name her children Boy and Girl.”
18.
“You know you're going to cave in," Jane said as they drove home.
“No, I'm not," Shelley said. "Those kittens just cast a temporary spell over me. Now that I'm away from them, I'll get over it in no time.”
But she still had a dreamy, goofy look on her face.
Jane glanced at her watch. "There's supposed to be a soccer practice at four. I imagine it's canceled." "Why?"
“Won't Tony Belton still be tied up with funeral stuff? You don't suppose Rhonda will let go of him so he can coach a bunch of little boys," Jane said.
They pulled into Jane's driveway. Shelley said, "There's a calling committee. If it's been canceled somebody will have told us.”
But neither of them had a message on her answering machine. And since it was beginning to cloud up, they decided to drive the boys to the practice later and stick around to remove them if it rained. Jane had an hour to kill, looked around the kitchen — which appeared to have been the site of a food explosion — and decided it could wait to be cleaned up. She went to the basement with the intention of getting a little writing done and ended up playing solitaire on the computer while her mind churned over Emma's death.
By the time Shelley knocked on the door upstairs, Jane had done nothing but further confuse and frustrate herself. They rounded up their boys and Suzie Williams's son and went to pick up the other two in their car pool and delivered them to the soccer field behind the high school. Summer vacation was still new enough that the boys were hyper and the trip seemed much longer than it really was. Tony Belton was already out on the field, demonstrating various techniques to the early birds.
“I'm surprised he doesn't have a glamorous middle-aged widow still hanging on his arm," Shelley said.
“If you look closely, though, you can see the talon marks," Jane said.
A few other mothers and one father were sitting in the bleachers, but Shelley and Jane didn't know any of them well enough to feel obligated to sit with them. Instead, they settledby a pile of paperwork and equipment in the center front that presumably belonged to Tony Belton. Shelley was fidgety.
“What's on your mind?" Jane finally asked.
Shelley thought for a minute and said, "Well, I'm hardly even willing to consider it, much less talk about it, but has it occurred to you that Patsy Mallett is a very strong, determined woman and—"
“And a very likeable one," Jane said, nodding.
“Yes, that's why I'm reluctant to even say this, but she did know both Stonecipher and Emma."
“Right. I have to admit I thought about that, too. But while she knows a little about them, what could Emma have known about her? That seems to be the key here."
“Something dreadful about the bookkeeping she does?" Shelley suggested.
“Like fudging some extra profit out for herself? I guess it's possible in theory," Jane said. "But you'd have to put a cattle prod to the small of my back to make me believe it. If nothing else, there's the practical consideration: if you were going to cheat somebody, would you pick a particularly bad-natured attorney?"
“Not unless you were sure you could get away with it and were cheating everybody. I don't believe she's capable of it either, but I had to say it, just to get it out of my head. It makes me feel slimy to even think about it."
“That's the tough thing about this," Jane said. "There's nobody but maybe Rhonda that I'd really like to pin this on. And she's not even a good villain, just an annoying woman."
“Speaking of annoying women—" Shelley said, gesturing toward a newcomer who was dragging coolers and cardboard boxes out of a station wagon. The team's mothers took turns bringing snacks for the boys to indulge in after the practice. Jane, Shelley, and several others had objected repeatedly and almost violently to this tradition on the grounds that the boys went from soccer practice straight home to dinners they didn't want to eat because they were full of snacks. But the tradition persisted. Most of the mothers at least attempted to bring something halfway healthy, but one — the one now approaching the field — brought the most appetite-repressing things she could find. Sodas instead of juice, Twinkies and chocolate-chip cookies instead of granola bars, and far too much of everything. Nobody could figure out whether she did it to be hateful, or just had no common sense.
“I think she means it well," Jane said, trying to be generous. "She likes that stuff, her tubby little boy obviously loves it, and for that matter, so do the rest of the boys. Her kid probably goes home and tucks away all his dinner,and she wonders why the rest of us have such picky eaters.”
When the practice was over and the boys fell on the snacks like a pack of hyenas, Tony Belton approached the bleachers. He greeted them by name and sat down to glance through the notebooks containing his team roster and make notes.
“We were a bit surprised to see you here," Shelley said. "We thought with the funeral just this morning. ." She let the rest of the sentence hanging for him to pick up.
He did so. "Rhon — Mrs. Stonecipher didn't really need me at the house. She's got a lot of family there. A lot of family," he added with a smile.
“Still, I'm sure it's been a great boon to her to have your support," Shelley said.
“I hope so. Robert and I didn't always get along as well as we might, but I owed him a lot, and if I can help his wife get through a bad time, I'm happy to do it.”
Jane and Shelley exchanged a quick look. Jane made a little go-ahead gesture.
“I guess he was hard to get along with," Shelley prodded.
Tony Belton closed his notebook. "Anybody with such strong opinions sometimes rubs people the wrong way. But as a mentor, he was tops. He really knew the law inside and out. I think I learned as much from him in four years as I did in law school."
“Is that when you joined his firm? Is it a firm when it's just one person?" Jane asked.
Tony smiled. "I'd have to research that. Actually, Robert and I both turned up here at the same time and a mutual acquaintance introduced us. I'd grown up here, then practiced in Connecticut for years. When I got divorced, I came back so that when I have my son here and have to work, he could be with my parents instead of a babysitter."
“What a good idea," Jane said.
“It's worked out pretty well. My folks spoil him rotten. But then, so do I."
“How old is your son?"
“The same age as your boys. He'll be here for the summer next week and be on the team. His school isn't out yet.”
Shelley politely asked him about his son and they got a run-down on what a great kid he was. Tony was a besotted father. Finally Jane dragged the topic back. "So Mr. Stonecipher came here at the same time?"
“Right. He'd had a successful practice, but the pressure had gotten too much, so he and his wife came back here — she's from Chicago originally — to retire. But a man of his energy couldn't really retire so early and he was just starting up a new practice when I met him."
“And where does Emma Weyrich come into this?" Shelley asked bluntly.
&n
bsp; If the question made him wary, he didn't show it. "She'd worked with him out West, and he invited her here when he started getting things lined up."
“Was she that good at whatever she did?"
“Sure, Robert wouldn't bother with anybody who wasn't good. Well, that sounds bigheaded of me—"
“Not at all," Shelley said. "But I get the feeling you didn't like her much.”
That did make him pause carefully. Jane guessed that he wasn't normally given to talking about himself so much, but had been inundated with Rhonda's concerns for the last couple days and perhaps appreciated somebody asking about him for a change.
“I didn't dislike her," he said, sounding more like a lawyer than a soccer coach.
“But you weren't entirely thrilled to work with her?" Shelley prodded.
“I didn't 'work with her' much. She worked with Robert, not me. Research, mainly. And some routine minor filings. Property settlements, that sort of thing."
“You knew they were having an affair?" Jane asked.
He looked surprised. Not at the information but at Jane's knowing it. "It was none of my business."
“Then what—?"
“Look, I don't know why this interests you, but Emma was an advice giver. One of those people who's always volunteering what you ought to be doing about things, whether you wanted her opinion or not. I didn't like it. She had all kinds of half-assed opinions on how I should be raising my son. Coming from a woman who didn't have children and hadn't been asked, it was really irritating. That's all.”
He was obviously getting irritated with their questions as well. It was time for some repair work.
“No!" Jane exclaimed. "Why, how outrageous. But there are a lot of people like that. In fact, people without kids often think they know more about raising them than the parents like us who are in the trenches.”
This mollified him a bit. "Yeah, there's a big difference between theory and reality. She had a loony idea about year-round school and how I should make him take summer classes when he visited with me. She was always harping on it. Thought it would make for great 'bonding' if I spent every night all summer helping him with homework. I don't think she was ever a kid herself," he added sourly.
“But why would somebody kill her?" Jane asked as if pondering the question for the first time.
He shrugged. "You've got me there." He didn't seem particularly curious.
“There's a rumor going around that she was blackmailing people," Shelley said.
“Blackmailing? Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "What would she know about anybody? Oh—!" He stopped speaking, his mouth open.
“What?" Jane asked.
He was glaring out across the now empty field and talking to himself more than to them. "The police asked me about some files in Robert's office — private files, they said. Oh, shit! You don't think—”
Suddenly he got a grip on himself. "Sorry. Excuse my language. God, this is awful!" He started gathering up equipment. "Boys, finish up quickly now. It's time to go," he barked.
Jane decided, since he was unravelling, she'd push him just a little further. "I guess you and Rhonda will be getting married when this is all settled."
“What!" It was a yelp.
“Aren't you? Oh, I'm sorry. But we heard that's why she was divorcing her husband."
“She's telling people that?" he asked, dropping his notebook and pencil. "No, no. She wouldn't. No. Mrs. Stonecipher and I are just friends. Really. Boys! Are you ready? Are your rides all here?”
He scrabbled for his notebook and went tearing off to hustle them along.
“Jeez, Jane!" Shelley said, laughing. "What a reaction. You scared him half to death."
“I think it's Rhonda who's scaring him," Jane said.
Shelley watched as Tony Belton started herding the boys toward the waiting cars. "I don't think any of that was an act, do you? I think the blackmailing news was really a kidney punch."
“Mel's going to have a fit if it gets back to him that I talked about it. But if Patsy Mallett's figured it out, I imagine a lot of people have. Wonder why Tony didn't?"
“When's he had time to figure anything out?" Shelley said. "Rhonda's been leading him around by the nose, making him fetch and carry and write eulogies and call relatives. He can't be too stupid to have seen what the police were getting at if he'd had time to consider about it. From his viewpoint, it must be pretty devastating. Whatever his role is in what remains of the firm, think how bad it'll look when it's public knowledge that Stonecipher and Weyrich were keeping blackmail files."
“Wow! I hadn't thought about that!" Jane said.
“But Tony is," Shelley said. "Poor guy. And then you hit him with that marrying Rhonda thing. That was a master stroke, Jane."
“Rhonda sure wouldn't have been flattered at the way he reacted.”
They headed toward the car, just as they heard the first roll of thunder.
Shelley pointed at the sky. "Please note! My lawn watering worked.”
1 9 It was pouring down rain by the time they got home. They'd dropped off the other boys in the car pool and their own two had hopped out. As she got out, Shelley said, "Being in a closed car with a bunch of sweaty twelve-year-old boys is not one of life's dreams. In fact, we may have just had a glimpse of what hell really is like.”
Jane went inside and contemplated the contents of the refrigerator. It was a rare treat to have a range of choices. Of course anything she made would seem ordinary after she'd eaten so much of Conrad's marvelous cooking lately. The rain had been swept in by surprisingly cold air, and Jane thought a stew might be nice, but it was too late to start one. She rejected chili because it wasn't cold enough outside for that and settled on hamburgers, macaroni and cheese, corn, and a salad. Good, plain food.
Katie came into the kitchen and offered to help. Jane tried to hide her astonishment. She put the macaroni and cheese into the oven, started making the hamburger patties, and set Katie to work on the salad.
“That's not veal, is it?" Katie asked suspiciously.
“Veal? Of course not."
“Because I saw a program on television about veal and the way the poor little calves are kept in these tiny pens—"
“Katie, please. I know. And I don't want to hear about it. I can't afford veal anyway so it will never be a political issue around here."
“But not buying it because you can't afford it isn't the same as not buying it because it's immoral," Katie said.
“Comes to the same thing," Jane said, putting plastic wrap over the plate of hamburgers and checking on the macaroni.
“Mom, don't you care about stuff like that?”
This sort of question was normally rhetorical and belligerent, but this time Katie seemed to be asking it sincerely. "Katie, there's so much in the world that a person could be upset about that you could be miserable every minute of the day. Come sit down. The salad looks good.”
They sat at the kitchen table. "It's so hard to be your age," Jane said.
“Yeah, you're telling me!" Katie said.
“You're just starting to really notice the world around you — in an adult way," Jane went on. "And there's a lot wrong with it. But there's a lot right with it, too. A lot of good things.”
Katie nodded. "Like those little kids at the Vacation Bible School. Mom, they're so cute.”
“You're liking this job, then?"
“Sure. It's fun. Too bad they're not paying me better," she said, descending from her high moral plateau to the purely practical.
Jane bit back the response that she and Katie were both lucky Katie had any kind of summer job, otherwise they'd be in each other's hair all the time. As it was, they still had all of August to drive each other crazy since the bible school only ran through June and July.
“So, why don't you care about the cute little calves?" Katie asked, unwilling to let the subject go.
“I do care, but there are things I care about a lot more. You and Mike and Todd being at
the top of the list and taking up a lot of space. And then I pick and choose pretty carefully what else goes on my particular list. I drive my group of blind kids to their school once a week during the year because the school can't afford bus service and that's a little way I can help. I helped at the graduation night party, which I think is worthwhile. I work on fundraising things for good causes like—"
“But Mom, those are nice things, but they're so — so small. I'm talking about big problems. Like the environment and peace and stuff like that."
“I know. But since I haven't got the slightest idea how to ensure world peace and nobody would have any reason to listen to me even if I thought I knew, I do what I can."
“Well, I want to do something important!" Katie said.
“I hope you do. I think you will someday. And if you want my advice, pick one thing that you think is most important. Do you know about the man who had a heart attack at the deli the day it opened?"
“Uh-huh. Gross! Dying there in the middle of all that food!"
“The point is, he was one of those people who couldn't pick a cause and stick to it. He had a new cause every couple weeks. And he didn't get very far with any of them because he'd made so many people mad with the ones that went before. Someday," she added with a grin, "when you're old enough to appreciate it, I'll introduce you to Patsy Mallett. You could probably take over the world with her philosophy. But I don't think you're cynical enough to appreciate it yet.”
Jane got up to check on the progress of dinner, and Katie started setting the table. Be still my heart, Jane said silently. For thefirst time in years she and her daughter had gotten through a serious discussion, albeit a short theoretical one, without Katie stomping off and slamming doors. There was hope for them.
After dinner, Jane went into the living room and moved an easy chair where she could sit and just look at the rain soaking the back yard. Her floundering vegetable garden would be happy even if the petunias already had their faces down in the mud. Max and Meow came in and got into tidy watchful positions in front of the window, glaring at the rain as if it were a personal affront.
Silence of the Hams jj-7 Page 14