Mulch Ado About Nothing (16 page)

Somehow this seemed to her to be a very grown-up decision. Inside, there was still a little of Katie in her. That remnant of insecurity that probably haunts every adult.

Except maybe Shelley.

when Shelley came
out of her house to fetch ·, Jane, she found her friend walking almost normally up and down the driveway.

“Good Lord, I think you've got it!" Shelley exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“I've been experimenting since six this morning," Jane said. "I finally caught on that I do better with one crutch. It substitutes for the bad foot, but I don't need the other one for the good foot. And I don't hang by my armpits with only one. Aren't I great? Watch this!”

She did a slightly awkward half pirouette. "Not bad, huh?" Jane said, grinning.

“What happened to you? Yesterday you were a sad sack, today you're Margot Fonteyn at her peak."

“Two conversations last night," Jane said, opening the door of Shelley's van and expertly hoisting herself up, with her left hand grasping the inside top of the door and hauling the rest of herself and the crutch into the front seat. "One with poor old Arnie — wait till you taste his wife's ham and three-bean stew — and one talk with Katie. Completely different topics, but it cured me of my hypochondria. Could you drive me to buy a television for my bedroom this afternoon?”

Shelley goggled. "I thought I'd never hear you say that. You must be the last person in the neighborhood to succumb. I thought you felt it was immoral or something to have a TV in the bedroom."

“I guess I did. It was stupid and I want one. I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to watch the morning news in bed."

“The pharmacies must be doing well," Shelley said.

“Amazingly well," Jane admitted.

When she'd married into a family-owned pharmacy, they'd had money problems and she'd contributed a smallish inheritance of her own to help them over the slump. Out of gratitude, a document had been drawn up saying if her husband died first, she'd still receive his one-third share of the profits. She'd hoarded the money for the kids' college funds in stocks that were also doing well.

“I see they're putting up another facility in that new mall," Shelley added.

“And they've gone on-line and are raking in Internet sales at a fabulous rate," Jane replied. "I'll never get really rich, but I finally have enough stashed away for college fees and can do a few things for myself. Being stingy is a hard habit to break, but the television for myself is a start."

“Is getting rid of that awful station wagon and filling the chasm in your driveway next?"

“The station wagon still has a few miles to go, but I really should get a new driveway," Jane said, her eyes lighting up at the thought of getting rid of the World's Worst Pothole.

Shelley shot out of the driveway, talking and looking at Jane. "So Arnie brought you some more food. I think maybe he's getting a crush on you."

“He'll get over it today, if he does. Now that I'm clearly mobile. He was just feeding me because I was acting so helpless. Don't you ever look at what's behind you?"

“I don't care what's behind me," Shelley said with a laugh. "You know, I heard that the first thing on a woman's body that starts to go is the back of her arms. I figure that's why God put them where we couldn't see them.”

Jane nearly toppled over laughing. When she finally caught her breath, she said, "I've noticed something else. I'm getting arm muscles. Look.
But pull over first!”

Shelley obligingly did so. "Whaddya know. You
are
getting muscles."

“I like them," Jane said. "I thought we might drop in somewhere that I could buy some hand weights so I can keep them in both arms."

“Hand weights! You're going to exercise! I never thought I'd see the day!"

“Maybe we could even join one of those health clubs and both get back in shape," Jane burbled.

Shelley stiffened up and threw the car in gear. "That's going all too far! Exercising… ugh," she said with a shudder, and then said, "Look what Paul gave me last night." She dug in the center console and handed Jane a tiny phone.

“What's this for?"

“Calling while I'm driving.”

Jane put her head in her hands and pretended she was sobbing. "Even safe drivers are a menace when they drive and talk on the phone. Promise me you'll never use it when I'm with you."

“Who would I be calling except you?" Shelley said. "And if I'm with you, I don't need to call you and you wouldn't be home, you'd be with me.”

As Jane was deciphering this reasoning, they passed a fast-food restaurant and Shelley turned in to get a cup of coffee to go. Jane chose a huge glass of iced tea because the day was rapidly turning hot. They reached the community center and she had to shift her attention to exiting the van and walking up the stairs, balancing her heavy paper cup in her free hand. She only slopped a little of it down her leg.

They were early and only Stefan was already in the room. Jane looked over her notes from the previous day while the others wandered in. Within ten minutes, the adult students were ready for the day's topic. But the teacher hadn't appeared. They chatted among themselves for fifteen minutes. Jane took the opportunity to thank Arnold again for the beans. "I didn't even waitfor today. I tried them out last night and they're delicious.”

Arnie just looked pleased and nodded his head. Ursula, stepping on a comb she'd dropped that looked like it was meant for currying a horse, leaped in. "A bean dish? Oh, do tell me the recipe. I love beans.”

Jane whispered to Shelley, "Have you got that phone on you?"

“In my purse."

“Then pretend you're helping me to the bathroom and we'll call Mel and report that Eastman's still missing."

“Excuse us for a moment," Shelley said to the group. "Jane needs a helper."

“You call him," Shelley said, handing the phone to Jane when they reached the bathroom. "You just push the power button, wait a moment, then dial and push the button marked 'talk.' “

Jane fumbled with the tiny buttons and reached Mel on the third ring. "I thought you should know Dr. Eastman didn't turn up in class this morning.”

Shelley tried to put her own ear to the tiny speaker. Jane waved her away and listened intently to Mel.

When the conversation was over and Shelley showed her how to hang up the phone, Jane said, "I'll tell what he said when we're in your van. Meanwhile, just follow my lead.”

They went back to the classroom and Jane said to the group, "Since Dr. Eastman has apparently been delayed, I suggest we go on with our tour planned for today. He had the list of addresses and can catch up with us later.”

Ursula enthusiastically seconded this, and so did Miss Winstead, and the ladies left the room, leaving the men no choice but to follow.

As soon as Jane and Shelley were in the van and heading for Stefan's home, Jane reported that Mel had said the young boy at Eastman's house had called him early this morning. "The boy had gone to the garage to get a part to repair a garden-hose connection and discovered that Eastman's car was still there."

“So much for his driving upstate to his other property," Shelley said, as she uncharacteristically stopped at a yellow light.

“Mel thinks it's too coincidental that the first teacher of the class was attacked and the second teacher has disappeared."

“So, against all logic, it might involve someone in the class?"

“He didn't go as far as saying that. It's just something he's considering more significant than it seemed before."

“What are the police doing to try to find Eastman?"

“I didn't ask and he didn't mention it," Jane replied. "We have to pretend to ourselves we don't know any of this on the tour.”

Stefan's yard was as boring as Jane's had been before she hired plants. But it wasn't nearly asmessy. He apparently didn't have pets. There was a fairly small maple tree in the center of the grassy yard, and little scattered innocuous shrubs around the edges. This was a recently developed neighborhood and this appeared to be the way all the homes had been parsimoniously landscaped.

Almost everyone had suggestions. Miss Win-stead's were the most sweeping. She suggested terraces, hidden garden rooms, and the pool having the water supply come out a hill. Just like her garden, of course.

Charles Jones argued for the opposite approach. Specimen plants on islands of mulch, so that each could be admired for its own special quality of growth and bloom. Geometric paths. Just like his garden.

Ursula said, "Just fill it up with plants you like and see what thrives and what dies and replace the dead ones with something else you'd like to try.”

Poor Stefan tried to be polite about the suggestions, but still insisted that all he really wanted at first was a nice little pool with a fountain with some kind of sculpture spouting water in the middle and easy-to-grow, pretty flowers around the pool.

Miss Winstead launched into a treatise on caring for a pool, which was largely discouraging, even though she claimed to love hers. Shelley suggested that instead of making planting beds, Stefan could get mobs of nice planters to surround the pool and change the plants with the seasons.

Jane managed to drag Stefan away for a moment and say, "Wait till you see what I have on my patio. It might be a modest start for you.”

He looked so grateful that she was afraid he'd be disappointed when he saw her little birdbath fountain. Or maybe after Miss Winstead's lecture, he'd be happy to know he could have the lovely sound of running water surrounded by plants with very little trouble and work.

Only Arnold Waring was content to just roam around and examine the shrubs and not offer any advice at all or join in the competition for Stefan s approval of their own garden tastes.

Stefan finally got tired of advice and urged them along to Arnold's. When Shelley and Jane arrived, Shelley said, "I didn't realize Arnold lived so close to Julie Jackson's. Just across the street and three houses down."

“Hmm," Jane said. "I wonder if anyone questioned the neighbors after they found Julie. Old people on their own often keep an eagle eye on the houses around them. Arnold might have seen someone hanging about her house."

“I'm sure the police thought of that," Shelley said. "My goodness, Arnold keeps his house tidy. You can almost smell the fresh paint on the shutters."

“This iced tea has gone straight through me," Jane complained. "Would you run me home to pee?"

“Pee here. Well, not
right
here. I'm sure Arnold has a bathroom.”

“I don't like asking."

“Jane, don't be frumpy. Don't you know everybody pees now and then? With your background, you've probably peed in fifteen or twenty different countries in strangers' houses."

“And I never liked to," Jane said with a laugh.

As they drove up to Arnie's house, Shelley noticed Geneva Jackson and her husband come out of Julie's house with a suitcase. "Only one suitcase?" she said. "I thought they were staying until Julie was out of the hospital.”

Shelley waved and Geneva spoke to her husband, and he put the case in their car while Geneva came up the street briskly. "We're on our way to the hospital to bring Julie home!" she said with a huge smile. "The doctor thought it would be a couple days more, but she's making such improvement, and with a brother-in-law who's a neurologist staying with her, her physician is releasing her early.”

Jane thought that was good news, but if she didn't find a bathroom soon, she'd create a scene.

Jane
said timidly, "Arnie, may I use your bath room? I just drank a huge cup of iced tea."

“I saw you doing that. You're really making improvement moving around. The bathroom on the first floor doesn't have a door right now. I have a carpenter replacing it tomorrow, but there's another upstairs. Do you need help with the steps?”

Even if she had, she would have lied. The idea of a man taking her clear to the bathroom door didn't appeal to her. "No, I've practiced and I can make it by myself, thanks." She realized that even changing a door must be a wrench to Arnie. After all, his late wife must have touched that door thousands of times.

She made it up without any trouble at all for the first time. Visiting the very feminine bathroom — pink towels, little shell-shaped soaps that were so dusty they must have been there since the day Darlene died, a sparkling clean tub, old but freshly washed and ironed frilly pink curtains — she realized the full extent of his obsession. Even an old-fashioned rouge tin was sitting on the sink counter.

She glanced out the bathroom window. Everyone was assembled in Arnie's backyard. Everyone but Dr. Eastman. As she exited the bathroom, she noticed the bedroom doors to each side were open and couldn't resist just peeking, without going in them.

The one to the right was lovely but a bit cluttered. There was a gardening book with a bookmark in it on one of the night tables. A sparkling green water carafe with the equally clean glass turned over the top. The carafe was sweating slightly. Did Arnie really refill it with ice water every day for Darlene?

The bedspread was dark floral patterns with wide green stripes. Very neat, but very faded. The matching pillows were piled at the headboard. The one on what Jane assumed was Darlene's side was still a deep green. Arnie's was faded.

Dear Lord, he still had her pillow exactly as she'd left it all those years ago!

When Jane's husband died so ignobly, one of the first things she did was get rid of the bedding and pillows and treat herself to something
she
liked. What a difference.

She stepped carefully to the other side of the small hall and glanced in what probably was once the guest room, now an office with a computer and desks and bookshelves. She was tempted to go in and see what the titles were, but resisted the impulse. She didn't want to be
that
snoopy.