Murder in Waiting - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,15
surfaces—went on the list once a month and got checked off. Then the next month it went back on. Sometimes Greg and I took a weekend and went through the whole house. The good news is, we weren’t slobs, so it stayed pretty okay during the times in between. Unless Emma got into something. Then all bets were off.
I took the boxes into the kitchen and got out treats I’d brought home from the shop. Then I made coffee. Greg wouldn’t be home for dinner. Maybe Amy would stay over and we could make a frozen pizza or something.
Amy came in the back door, wedding binder in hand. At least it wasn’t as huge as my aunt’s. I was beginning to get a complex about all the wedding plans being made all around me. But then I’d think about how perfect our lives were right now and I’d push the thought away. Marriage meant babies. And more housecleaning, because babies would put anything in their mouths. And Emma; what would she do with a baby around? And what would it feel like to even be pregnant? I pushed all the worry questions away and went to greet my friend. She could deal with all those things first. Then I’d have a role model to ask questions.
Maybe it was a coward’s way out of the fear, but I’d grab any lifeline in the storm.
“Hey, Amy.” I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming by. I have to say, I don’t think I get how to make the decorations quite like you did.”
She set down her stuff and glanced into the box. “It’s my fault really. I know how you are around crafts. You just don’t get it.”
“I get it,” I shot back, but then I looked into the almost-empty box again. A box Amy had counted on me to fill months ago. “Okay, so I’m not crafty, sue me. I’ve got some ideas for your party, though.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed the notebook I’d started making notes in. “Like I said, I have a list of questions.”
She pushed the planner book at me. “There’s a section on the party in there. Who I invited, who said yes, etc. I did some brainstorming with Justin a few weeks ago about what we might like to see. But don’t worry about him. Toby’s handling his party. Tim’s staying back to watch South Cove while Toby and Greg are gone for the weekend.”
I took the book and started writing down her notes into my notebook. “Thanks, this really helps.”
Amy plugged in two glue guns, then sat down with her own coffee. “I almost forgot. Are you okay? Esmeralda said Jackie was the one who called in the hit-and-run. But you were first on the scene, right?”
“Yeah. Not my best memory.” I kept my head down and continued to write. “You know who it was, right? Frank Gleason? The history guy who was working on getting the wall certified as historic?”
“No, Esmeralda didn’t know. She thought it was a tourist, not a local.” Amy started putting together the doodad for the table. Driftwood, shells, a piece of moss, and a sprinkling of sand made up the centerpiece. It was pretty, in a natural, classic way. Justin had wanted to add mini surfboards with their names on it with a heart. We still had them, just in case Amy changed her mind. “I guess this really wasn’t a good time to do this.”
“Actually, it’s a great time. Greg’s off investigating the accident. So you being here and keeping me busy helps. I feel so bad for him. He was on his phone, talking to someone. Well, yelling at someone, when this truck just swung over and hit him.” I compared the two lists and then went through my questions to make sure there wasn’t something else. “I’m going to work on this a while, if that’s okay. Then I’ll help you finish up.”
“That will work. I hate the fact he was angry when he passed. I bet whoever he was talking to feels really bad about the last words they had.” Amy adjusted the moss before adding the glue. “Passing over should be soft and easy. A natural path to the other side, as Esmeralda calls it. Not angry and violent.”
I thought about Amy’s words as I went through the list of ideas I’d brainstormed for the party. Then I started researching available venues and costs. Amy turned on the