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If I'd known how to cha-cha, I think I would have done it going up the ramp from the employees' parking lot into the library.

"Aren't we happy today?" Lillian said sourly, sipping from her cup of coffee at the worktable in the book-mending room.

"Yes, ma'am, we are," I said, depositing my purse in my little locker and snapping the padlock shut. My only claim to fame in my history as a librarian in Lawrenceton was that I had never once lost my padlock key. I kept it on a safety pin and pinned it to my skirt or my slip or my blouse. Today I pinned it to my collar and marched off to Mr. derrick's office, humming a military tune. Or what I imagined was a military tune.

I tapped on the half-open door and stuck my head in. Mr. derrick was already at work on a heap of papers, a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow and a cigarette in the ashtray smoldering.

"Good morning, Roe," he said, looking up from his desk. Sam derrick was married with four daughters, and, since he worked in a library, that meant he was surrounded by women from the moment he got up to the moment he went to bed. You would think he would have learned how to treat them. But his greatest and most conspicuous failure was in people management. No one would ever accuse Sam derrick of coddling anyone, or of favoritism; he didn't care for any of us, had no idea what our home lives were like, and made no allowances for any individual's personality or work preferences. No one would ever like him; he would never be accused of being unfair.



I had always been a little nervous around someone who played his emotional cards as close to his chest as Sam derrick. Suddenly leaving did not seem so simple."I'm going to quit my job," I said quietly, while I still had some nerve. As he stared, that little bit of nerve began to trickle away. "I'm on part-time anyway, I don't feel like you really need me anymore." He kept peering at me over his half-gla.s.ses. "Are you giving me notice, or quitting, no more work as of today?" he asked finally."I don't know," I said foolishly. After I considered a moment, I said, "Since you have at least three subst.i.tute librarians on your call list, and I know at least two of them would love to go regular part-time, I'm quitting, no more work as of five hours from now."

"Is there something wrong that we can talk about?" I came all the way into the room. "Working here is okay," I told him. "I just don't have to anymore, financially, and I feel like a change." "You don't need the money," he said in amazement.He was probably the only person working at the library, or perhaps the only person in Lawrenceton, who didn't know by now about the money."I inherited."

"My goodness, your mother didn't die, I hope?" He actually put his pencil down, so great was his concern.

"No, no relative."

"Oh-good. Well. I'm sorry to see you go, even though you were certainly our most notorious employee for a while last year. Well, it's been longer than that now, I suppose."

"Did you think about firing me then?"

"Actually, I was holding off until you killed Lillian." I stared at him blankly until I accepted the amazing fact that Sam derrick had made a joke. I began laughing, and he began laughing, and suddenly he looked like a human being.

"It's been a pleasure," I said, meaning it for the first time, and turned and left his office.

"Your insurance will last for thirty days," he called after me, running a little truer to form.

As luck would have it, that morning at the library business was excruciatingly slow. I didn't want to tell anyone I'd quit until I was actually leaving, so I hid among the books all morning, reading the shelves, dusting, and piddling along. I didn't get a lunch break, since I was just working five hours; I was supposed to bring it with me or get one of the librarians going out to bring back something from a fast-food place, and eat it very quickly. But that would mean eating in the break room, and there was sure to be someone else in there, and having a conversation without revealing my intention would be seen as fraudulent, in a way. So I dodged from here to there, making myself scarce, and by two o'clock I was very hungry. Then I had to go through the ritual of saying good-bye, I enjoyed working with you, I'll be in often to get books so we'll be seeing each other.

It made me sadder than I thought it would. Even saying good-bye to Lillian was not the unmitigated pleasure I had expected. I would miss having her around because she made me feel so virtuous and smart by contrast, I realized with shame. ( I didn't moan and groan about every little change in work routine, I didn't bore people to tears with detailed accounts of boring events, I knew who Benvenuto Cellini was.) And I remembered Lillian finally standing by me when things had been so bad during the murders months before."Maybe you can hunt for a husband full-time now," Lillian said in parting, and my shame vanished completely. Then I read in Lillian's face the knowledge that the only thing she had that I could possibly want was a husband."We'll see," I told her, and held my hands behind my back so I wouldn't choke her.

I retrieved my purse and turned in my locker key, and I walked out the back door for the last time.

I went straight to the grocery store. I wanted something for lunch, I wanted something to put in the refrigerator at the house on Honor for snacks while I was there. I zoomed through the grocery store tossing boxes and produce bags in my cart with abandon. I celebrated quitting my job by getting one of the really expensive microwave meals, the kind with a neat reusable plate. This was getting fancy for me, for lunch anyway. Maybe now I would have time to cook. Did I want to learn to cook in any more detail? I could make spaghetti, and I could make pecan pie. Did I need to know anything else? I debated it as I stood in front of the microwave at the town house.

I could decide at my leisure. I was now a woman of leisure.

I liked the sound of it.

The woman of leisure decided to celebrate by buying a new outfit to wear to the Rideouts' party. I would not go to Great Day, I decided; I'd share the wealth and go to Marcus Hatfield instead. Usually Marcus Hatfield made me nervous; though it was a mere satellite of the big Atlanta store, the selection was just too great, the saleswomen too aggressively groomed. Maybe my contact with Marcia was inuring me to immaculate grooming; I felt I could face even the cosmetics-counter woman without flinching.

I pulled my skirt straight and stiffened my spine before I entered. I can buy anything in this store, I reminded myself. I marched through the doors in my hopeless librarian's outfit. I was almost immediately confronted by a curvy vision in bright flowers, perfect nails, and subtle makeup."Hey, neighbor," exclaimed the vision. It was Carey Osland in her working getup.I could see why she preferred loafers and housedresses. She looked marvelous, almost edible, but definitely not comfortable. "I'm glad to see you," Carey was saying warmly while I was decoding her ident.i.ty."Good to see you, too," I managed.

"Can I help you today?"

"I need something new to wear tonight."

"To the sun-deck party."

"Yes. It's so nice of the Rideouts to be giving it." "Marcia loves to entertain. There's nothing she likes better than to have a bunch of people over."

"She said she didn't like it when her husband had to be away overnight." "No. I expect you noticed she drinks a little then. She's been like that as long as I've known her, I guess... though I don't know her very well. She knows a lot of people around town, but she never seems to be close friends with anyone. Were you thinking of a sports outfit or did you want a sundress, something like that?"

"What?"

"For the party."

"Oh, sorry, I was off in the clouds somewhere. Um... what are you going to wear?"

"Oh, I'm too fat to wear a sundress," Carey said cheerfully. "But you'd look real pretty in one; and, so it wouldn't be too dressy, you could wear flat sandals and go real plain on your jewelry."

I looked dubiously at the dress Carey had pulled out. Mrs. Day would never have suggested it for me. But, then, Mrs. Day didn't carry too much like this at her shop. It was orange-and-white, very pretty but very casual, and there wasn't a back to it.

"I couldn't wear a bra with that," I pointed out.

"Oh, no," Carey agreed calmly.

"I would jiggle," I said doubtfully.

"Go try it on," Carey said with a wink. "If you don't like it, we have all kinds of cute shorts sets and lightweight pants, and any of them would be just fine, but just put this dress on."

I had never had to almost completely undress to try on clothes before. I pulled on the dress and bounced up and down on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet, my eyes on the dressing-room mirror. I was trying to gauge the amount of jiggle. I am chesty for such a small person, and there was enough jiggle to give me pause."How is it?" Carey called from outside my cubicle."Oh...I don't know," I said doubtfully. I bounced again. "After all, I'm going with a minister."

"He's human," Carey observed. "G.o.d made bosoms, too." "True." I turned around and observed my back. It looked very bare. "I can't carry this off, Carey," I told her.

"Let me see."

I reluctantly opened the door of the cubicle.

"Wow," said Carey. "You really look good," she said with squinted eyes. "Very s.e.xy," she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I just feel too conspicuous. My back feels cold."

"He'd love it."

"I don't know about that."

I looked in a bigger mirror at the end of the row of dressing rooms. I considered. No, I decided finally. I could not go out in that dress with someone I hadn't slept with.

"I'm not going to wear it tonight, so I still need to find something else for that," I told Carey. "But I think I'll buy it anyway." Carey became the complete saleswoman. The orange-and-white dress was whisked away to be put on a hanger, and she brought several more things for me to try on. Carey seemed to be determined that I wanted to present a s.e.xy, sophisticated image, and I became sorry I hadn't gone to Great Day. Finally we found a cotton knit shorts and shirt that represented a compromise. The shirt was scoop-necked and white with red polka dots, and the red shorts were cut very full, like a little skirt, with a long tie belt that matched the shirt. I certainly had a lot of exposed skin, but at least it wasn't on my back. Carey talked me into red sandals and red bracelet and earrings to match before I called a halt to my shopping.

When I carried my purchases back to the town house, I called Aubrey at his church. "Who's calling?" the church secretary asked, when I wanted to be connected to Aubrey.

"Roe Teagarden."

"Oh!" she said breathlessly. "Sure, Roe, I'll tell him. He's such a nice man, we just love him here at St. John."

I stared at the phone for a second before I realized I was being given a boost in my a.s.sumed effort to win the heart of their priest. The congregation of St.John's must think it was time their leader married again, and I must be respectable enough at first glance to qualify as a suitable mate."Roe?"

"Hi, Aubrey," I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts. "Listen, would you meet me tonight at the house on Honor instead of picking me up here at the town house? I want to feed the cat before the party." "Sure. Are we supposed to bring anything? A bottle of wine?" "She didn't want me to bring anything to eat, but if you want to bring a bottle of wine, I imagine they'd be glad." A nice thought on Aubrey's part."This is casual, right?"

"It's going to be on their sun deck, so I'm sure it is."

"Good. I'll see you at your new house at seven, then."

"That's just fine."

"I look forward to it," he said quietly.

"Me, too."

I got there early, and pulled my car all the way inside the carport so there'd be room for Aubrey's. After tending to Madeleine's needs, I thought of the clothes still in Jane's drawers. I'd cleaned out the closet, but not the chest of drawers. I pulled one open idly to see what I had to contend with. It turned out to be Jane's sleepwear drawer. Jane had had an unexpected taste in nightgowns. These certainly weren't what I'd call little-old-lady gowns, though they weren't naughty or anything like that. I pulled out the prettiest, a rose pink nylon, and decided I might actually keep it. Then I thought, Maybe I'll just spend the night here. Somehow the idea struck me as fun. The sheets on the bed were clean, changed by the maid hired to straighten everything out after Jane had gone into the hospital. Here was a gown. I'd just put a little food in the refrigerator. The air conditioner was running. There was a toothbrush in a sealed container in the bathroom, and an unopened tube of toothpaste. I would see what waking up in my new house was like.

The doorbell rang, announcing Aubrey's arrival. I answered it feeling a little self-conscious because of the scoop neckline. Sure enough, Aubrey's eyes went instantly to my cleavage. "You should have seen the one I didn't wear," I said defensively.

"Was I that obvious?" he said, a little embarra.s.sed."Carey Osland says G.o.d made bosoms, too," I told him, and then closed my eyes and wished the ground would swallow me up.

"Carey Osland says truly," he said fervently. "You look great."

Aubrey had a knack for taking the embarra.s.sment out of situations."You look nice yourself," I told him. He was wearing what would be a safe outfit at ninety percent of Lawrenceton's social occasions; a navy knit shirt and khaki slacks, with loafers.

"Well, now that we've admired each other, isn't it time to go?"

I glanced at my watch. "Right on the dot."

He offered his arm like the usher at a wedding, and I laughed and took it. "I'm going to be a bridesmaid again," I told him. "And you know what they say about women who are bridesmaids so often." Then I felt furious with myself all over again, for even introducing the subject of weddings."They say, 'What a beautiful bridesmaid,'" Aubrey offered tactfully."That's right," I said, relieved. If I couldn't do better than this, I'd have to keep my mouth shut all evening.

Prom my first glimpse of Marcia it was apparent to me that she lived to entertain. The food even had little mesh tents over it to keep flies off, a practical touch in Lawrenceton in the summer. The cloths covering the tables erected on the sun deck for the occasion were starched and bright. Marcia was her usual well-turned-out self, as starched and bright as the tablecloths in blue cotton shorts and blouse. She had dangly earrings and painted nails, top and bottom. She exclaimed over the wine and asked if we wanted a gla.s.s now. We refused politely and she went in to put it in the refrigerator, while Torrance, looking exceptionally tan in his white shorts and striped shirt, took our drink orders. We both took gin and tonics with lots of ice, and went to sit on the built-in bench that ran all the way around the huge deck. My feet could barely touch the deck. Aubrey sat very close when he sat next to me.Carey and Macon came in right on our heels, and I introduced them to Aubrey.Macon had met him before at a ministerial council meeting Macon had covered for the paper, and they immediately plunged into an earnest conversation about what the council hoped to accomplish in the next few months. Carey eyed my outfit and winked at me, and we talked over the men about how good Marcia and the party food looked. Then the couple who lived in the house across from Carey, the McMans, came up to be introduced, and they a.s.sumed that Aubrey and I owned Jane's house together; that we were cohabiting. As we were straightening that out, Lynn and Arthur came in. Lynn was elephantine and obviously very uncomfortable in a maternity shorts outfit. Arthur was looking a little worried and doubtful. When I saw him I felt-nothing.

When Arthur and Lynn worked their way around to us, he seemed to have shaken off whatever had been troubling him. Lynn looked a little more cheerful, too. "I wasn't feeling too well earlier," she confided as Arthur and Aubrey tried to find something to talk about. "But it seems to have stopped for the moment." "Not good-how?"

"Like gas pains," she said, her mouth a wry twist at this confession. "Honestly, I've never been so miserable in my life. Everything I eat gives me heartburn, and my back is killing me."

"And you're due very soon?"

"Not for a couple more weeks."

"When's your next doctor's appointment?"

"In your last month, you go every week," Lynn said knowledgeably. "I'm due to go back in tomorrow. Maybe he'll tell me something." I decided I might as well admit wholesale ignorance. Lynn certainly needed something to feel superior about. She had looked sourly on my red and white shorts outfit. "So what could he tell you?" I asked."Oh. Well, for example, he could tell me I've started dilating-you know, getting bigger to have the baby. Or he could tell me I'm effacing." I nodded hastily, so Lynn wouldn't explain what that meant.

"Or how much the baby has dropped, if its head is really far down." I was sorry I'd asked. But Lynn was looking in better spirits, and she went on to tell Aubrey how they'd decorated the nursery, segueing neatly from that domestic subject to a discussion of the break-ins on the street, which were being generally discussed. The McMans complained about the police inaction on the crimes, unaware that they were about to become very embarra.s.sed."You're going to have to understand," Arthur said, his pale blue eyes open wide, which meant he was very irritated, "that if nothing is stolen and no fingerprints are found, and no one sees anything, the burglar is going to be almost impossible to find unless an informant turns in something." The McMans, small and mousy and shy, turned identical shades of mortification when they realized that the new couple next door were both police detectives.After an embarra.s.sing b.u.mble of apologies and retractions, Carey talked about her break-in-which had occurred when she and her daughter were at Carey's folks' house for Thanksgiving two years ago-and Marcia related her experience, which had "scared her to death."

"I came back from shopping, and of course it was when Torrance was out of town; nothing happens but when Torrance is out of town"-and she gave him a knife of a glance-"and I saw the back window of the kitchen was broken out, oh you should have seen me make tracks over to Jane's house." "When was that?" I asked. "Around the time Carey's house was broken into?" "You know, it was. It was maybe a month later. I remember it was cold and we had to get the gla.s.s fixed in a hurry."

"When was your house broken into?" I asked Macon, who was holding Carey's hand and enjoying it.

"After the Laverys," he said, after a moment's thought "They're the people who owned the house you bought," he said to Arthur. "They got transferred five months ago, so I know they're relieved not to have to make two house payments.My break-in, and the Laverys', was like the others...back window, house searched and messed up, but nothing apparently taken."

"When was that?" I persisted. Arthur shot me a sharp look, but Lynn seemed more interested in her stomach, which she was ma.s.saging slowly."Oh, sometime about a year and a half ago, maybe longer." "So Jane's house was the only one that hadn't been broken into until very recently?"

Carey, Macon, the McMans, and Marcia and Torrance exchanged glances."I think that's right," Macon said. "Come to think of it. And it's been quite awhile since the last one, I know I hadn't thought about it in ages until Carey told me about Jane's house."

"So everyone's been broken into-everyone on the street?" Was that what Jack Burns had told me?

"Well," Marcia said, as she poured dressing on the salad and tossed it, "everyone but the Inces, whose house is on the two lots across from Macon and us. They're very, very old and they never go out anymore. Their daughter-in-law does everything for them, shopping and takes them to doctor appointments and so on. They haven't been bothered, or I'm sure Margie-that's the daughter-in-law- would've come over and told me about it. Every now and then she comes over and has a cup of coffee after she's been to see them." "I wonder what it means?" I asked no one in particular.

An uncomfortable silence fell.

"Come on, you all, the food's all ready and waiting!" Marcia said cheerfully.Everyone rose with alacrity except Lynn. I heard Arthur murmur, "You want me to bring you something, hon?"

"Just a little bit," she said wearily. "I'm just not very hungry." It didn't seem to me that Lynn would have any room left for food, the baby was taking up so much.

Torrance went through the house to answer the front doorbell. The rest of us shuffled through the line, oohing and ahhing appropriately at the gorgeous food.It was presented in a beautiful way, all the dishes decorated and arranged as if far more important people than we were coming to taste it. Unless Marcia had had help, this table represented hours of work. But the food itself was comfortingly homely.

"Barbecued ribs!" exclaimed Aubrey happily. "Oh boy. Roe, you're just going to have to put up with me. I make a mess when I eat them." "There's not a neat way to eat ribs," I observed. "And Marcia has put out extra large napkins, I see."

"I'd better take two."

Just then I heard a familiar voice rising above the general chatter. I turned to peer around Aubrey, my mouth falling a little open in a foolish way."Mother!" I said, in blank surprise.

It was indeed Mother, in elegant cream slacks and midnight blue blouse, impressive but casual gold necklace and earrings, and her new husband in tow."I'm so sorry we were late," she was apologizing in her Lauren Bacall gracious woman mode, the one that always made people accept her apology. "John wasn't sure until the last minute whether he felt like coming or not. But I did so want to meet Aurora's new neighbors, and it was so kind of you to invite us..." The Rideouts gushed back, there was a round of introductions, and suddenly the party seemed livelier and more sophisticated.

Despite his tired eyes, John looked well after their honeymoon, and I told him so. For a few minutes, John seemed a little puzzled as to what exactly Aubrey was doing at the party, but when it sunk in that his minister was my date, John took a deep breath and rose to the occasion, discussing church affairs very briefly with Aubrey, just enough to make them comfortable with each other without boring the non-Episcopalians. Mother and John joined in the food line behind us, Mother sparing a cold glance for Arthur, who was sitting beside his wife and eating while giving her a solicitous look or laying his hand on her shoulder every few seconds.

"She's about to pop. I thought they just got married a few months ago," Mother hissed in my ear.

"Mom, hush," I hissed back.

"I need to talk to you, young lady," Mother responded in a low voice so packed with meaning that I began to wonder what I could have done that she'd heard of.I was almost as nervous as I'd been at six when she used that voice with me.We sat back down at the picnic tables set with their bright tablecloths and napkins, and Marcia rolled around a cart with drinks and ice on it. She was glowing at all the compliments. Torrance was beaming, too, proud of his wife. I wondered, looking at Lynn and Arthur, why the Rideouts hadn't had children. I wondered if Carey Osland and Macon would try to have another one if they married. Carey was probably forty-two, but women were having them later and later, it seemed. Macon must have been at least six to ten years older than Carey-of course, he had a son who was at least a young adult... the missing son."While I was in the Bahamas," John said quietly into my ear, "I tried to get a minute to see if the house of Sir Harry Oakes was still standing." I had to think for a minute. The Oakes case... okay, I remembered.

"Alfred de Marigny, acquitted, right?"

"Yes," said John happily. It was always nice to talk to someone who shared your hobby.

"Is this an historical site in the Bahamas?" Aubrey asked from my right.

"Well, in a way," I told him. "The Oakes house was the site of a famous murder." I swung back around to John. "The feathers were the strangest feature of that case, I thought."

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A Bone To Pick Part 9 summary

You're reading A Bone To Pick. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Charlaine Harris. Already has 651 views.

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