Murray choked on her cookie and hurried to swallow the last of her apple juice, then curled up on the sofa. “You know, you make me really happy I decided not to have kids,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “I simply can’t imagine myself as a mother, and certainly not pregnant.”
Harlow waved languidly in her direction. “Glad to be of service. You’re right. I can’t see you having kids, either. You’d probably feed them to the snakes when they got out of line, or worse yet, let them take Sid and Nancy to show-and-tell and give the teacher a heart attack.” She gave Mur a wicked grin.
Murray sputtered. “Hey! Hold on there just one minute. I happen to be great with kids—I just don’t want any of my own!”
“Of course you’re great with kids, you nit,” I said, settling into the recliner. “Kip and Randa adore you, and so will Harl’s little girl.” I turned to Harlow. “So, what meeting were you at this time?” Every time I turned around, the woman had joined yet another committee. Most of them were volunteer charities, or out-and-out philanthropic organizations.
With a grimace, she shifted around until she found a comfortable position, then leaned back. “Shit, my back hurts. Whoever created the myth of the wonderful, carefree pregnancy had his head up his butt. I don’t glow, I sweat!”
“Yeah,” I said, “I have to admit, being pregnant with Kip and Randa made me all too aware of how unfair this universe is. If there was any justice, men would have an abdominal pouch and hatch the kids, just like in seahorseland. But nope, we women got stuck with the job.”
“Been watchingAnimal Planet again, have we?” Harlow snickered. “The meeting was for the Literacy Council—”
I reached for my purse. “Fundraising time already?”
She shook her head. “No, but all donations are welcome.” As I wrote out a check she continued. “I actually came over to warn you about something.”
“Warn me? Warn me about what?” I handed her my donation. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”
She tucked the check into an envelope and dropped it into her purse. “Well, you won’t like it even more when I tell you what I found out. Cathy Sutton was at the meeting tonight—KLIK-TV is running a special on local charities.”
I groaned. Cathy Sutton was the local anchorwoman at KLIK-TV. She was always vying to win Reporter of the Year; but had about as much chance as a snowball in hell. Next to her, Hedda Hopper sounded discreet, and Cathy’s to-die-for glamour didn’t hide her lack of talent, or the crocodile smile behind those pouty lips. Over the past year, we’d had several run-ins that had left us less than the best of friends.
“So what’s the ditz up to now?” I asked.
Harl cleared her throat. “She told me she’s going to be covering the Early Autumn Breeze Festival. She’ll be in town tomorrow to film some of the local shops, and I weaseled it out of her that she’s planning on focusing on the Chintz ‘n China, since you’ve become a local legend.”
“Local legend” indeed. Just because I’d had the misfortune to get mixed up in solving several murders, I’d somehow acquired an aura of celebrity. Though it was good for business, it was bad for my peace of mind.
“Oh great. Well, at least it’s only for the festival. Last time I threw her out of my shop, she flattened me like a bug on her damned show.”
Murray guffawed. “If you’d exert a little diplomacy, she might get bored and move on to some of the other businesses.”
“There’s more,” Harlow said.
“Spill it. All of it.”
“She introduced me to some guy who’s interning at KLIK-TV. When she said she was going to interview you, he begged her to let him come along. Apparently, you have a big fan. He was practically doe-eyed over you.”
I groaned. Just what I needed—a fan base in town. “Uh, did he say why he was so star struck?”
Harlow gave me an evil grin. “He eventually wants to be a professional psychic, and he thinks you are just the person to give him advice.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Great, another idiot wannabe poking around with forces he probably didn’t understand or respect.
“Sorry, babe. His name is George. I can’t remember his last name, but you’re going to be meeting him tomorrow because I overheard Cathy agree to let him tag along.”
Forewarned was forearmed. I tried to put the thought out of my mind as we moved on to other, more interesting subjects, like Harlow’s job. At the beginning of the year, Professor Abrams from Western Washington University had employed her as his research assistant. She’d been telecommuting, a real boon during the time she’d been wheelchair-bound. Now she was planning her own college education, to start after the baby was born.
“I’ll keep working,” she said, “but I think I’ll take a couple night courses until I decide what I want to major in.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that between the baby, work, and school, she’d probably end up a frazzled mess. At least she had the money to hire help, and I knew that her husband, James, would support every decision she made.
The evening wound down and I walked them to their cars, waving them out of the driveway. As I returned to the house, the silence settled over my shoulders and I took a deep breath, breathing in the scents of the warm summer evening. Kip was staying overnight with his best friend Sly and, for a rare occasion, the house was at rest. No insistent hum of the computer, nooofs andughs from his video games.
Soaking up the peace, I headed upstairs and peeked in Randa’s room. Yep, just as I figured, she was out watching the skies. On one of our first nights in the house, I’d caught her attempting to climb out of her window. Rather than fence her in, I hired a contractor to reinforce the flat section of the roof right outside her room. He’d built a solid guard rail so that on warm nights she could crawl out of her window, telescope in hand, and stargaze the evening away. After a few months, the neighbors had gotten used to seeing my daughter perched on the roof. I glanced at my watch. Nine-thirty. Well under bedtime.
I stuck my head out the window. “Good viewing?”