Mulch Ado About Nothing (12 page)

“But not at Julie. And justified," Jane said. "If, as you say, it's the truth."

“Yes, but she's a strong-minded woman. It wouldn't surprise me completely if she just decided to eradicate someone.”

Jane laughed. "So are you firm-minded!"

“That's why she worries me," Shelley said with a smile. "Seriously, I only get irritated with incompetents and fools. I don't hold lifelong grudges against anyone but the IRS. After they had those public hearings, their threats got smarmier, but they're still threats…"

“Shelley!" Jane exclaimed, having heard this all before.

“What I'm getting to is that I guess if Miss Winstead were to try to bump someone off, it would have been Dr. Eastman a long time ago. No real reason to wait several decades."

“I wonder if her hints that Stefan Eckert was up to some sort of hanky-panky were true."

“That
was
an odd thing for her to say. Maybe she's just naturally suspicious of everyone. Especially someone who can line up speakers that she couldn't manage to get. I'm sure that irritated her. I think she expects to get her way by ordering people around and hates it when someone like Stefan outwits her with pure charm and good looks. Did you notice how much he looks like George Stephanopoulas?" Shelley said.

“I certainly did, but what I'm most anxious to look at is Miss Winstead's garden," Jane said. "I felt that the other gardens we've visited really said something about the gardeners' personalities."

“Oh, dear! Then I'm in trouble," Shelley said. "Mine isn't even really mine. It's out on loan."

“So will mine be," Jane said smugly. "I followed your bad example and called the nursery. My garden 'arrives' tomorrow afternoon. And I have a water feature!"

“Jane! You didn't! What fools we're making of ourselves. I'm really regretting my pretense. The others are going to see right through us and despise us."

“Why? It's not as if we won't enjoy having nice things for people to see. And we might both want to keep them all instead of letting them go back to the nursery.”

Shelley looked embarrassed. "I've been looking around and had already decided I'm going to keep the stuff I rented. The yard looks so nice now."

“What wimps we are," Jane said. "I've already committed to keeping the little fountain. I saw it when Mike showed me around the nursery last week and longed for it."

“Then you should have it," Shelley said authoritatively.

Jane's calf muscle was cramping, and she shifted around to get more comfortable. "Does it strike you as strange that the only ones of us who found something to like in Ursula's garden were you and I and Miss Winstead?"

“Naturally we liked some of it because we're open-minded," Shelley said. "But yes, I was surprised to see Miss Winstead taking notes."

“Don't you wish you could have seen the notes?”

Shelley looked at Jane and asked, "What are you suggesting?"

“Maybe her notes weren't exactly about the garden. That's all. Maybe they were about Ursula herself."

“Why would you think that? Oh, if she were a suspect…”

They both fell silent for a moment, then Shelley said, "You have half an excuse to be speculating wildly, what with the foot, and the crutches, and Kipsy Topper and all. But there's really no reason to think anybody in the class had anything to do with hurting Julie even if Mel insists they're second-string suspects."

“I suppose you're right. But Julie Jackson knew some of them. Dr. Eastman for one. She worked out the schedule with Stefan Eckert. Her own sister joined the class. And Miss Winstead has been in touch with her as well. What if one or even all of the others also knew her? We're all in the same neighborhood and have been for a pretty long time. Even I had met her at a city council meeting and remembered who she was."

“But isn't it more logical that one of the men she was always being seen with is more likely?" Jane smiled. "Maybe so, but we don't know who they are and can hardly gossip about them. Anyway, this is taking my mind off The Dreaded Kipsy
and
my foot.”

Mike was late again. At eleven o'clock as Jane was wondering how to get upstairs with her book, her last cup of decaf coffee, and the clean towels for her bathroom, Katie stormed down the steps. She was livid with sibling rivalry. "Mike's not that much older than me."

“Not much older than I…" Jane corrected her. "Why can't I come and go whenever I want like he does?"

“Because you're younger. And, much as I hate to say it, a girl. Could you help me carry up some of these things?"

“Mom! You're positively medieval! I'm not a dumb little girl. I'm a young woman. If you just got me a can of Mace and a cell phone, I'd be perfectly safe anywhere."

“You forgot to mention the car to get anywhere," Jane said sarcastically.

“No, I didn't. You bought Mike a truck. Why not me?"

“Because you're too young. And you're not as good at driving yet as he was when I got him the truck.”

This was the honest truth. Katie wasn't making progress with driving safely. She was too busy looking around at boys walking down the street, checking her lipstick while driving. Forgetting to lock the car. Forgetting to put on the parkingbrake. Dumping chewing gum in the ashtray. But Jane hated being that honest.

For one thing, Katie was in a snit and jealous of her big brother, and would think it was an excuse for depriving her of her rights.

For another, Jane's own background wasn't anything like Katie's. She hadn't learned to drive until she was almost twenty, because her diplomat family always traveled in limos or trains or taxis or planes. They'd never lived in the same place for much more than six months, and it was never enough to get really familiar with any area, and she simply didn't need to drive until she came home to America for college.

Were daughters always so much more difficult to raise and protect than sons?

And for that matter, was her older son going off the rails after so many years of being so sensible and responsible?

Jane felt seriously tired.

Instead of continuing the argument, Jane had a brainstorm. "Katie, I have an idea. Carry up the coffee cup and towels and I'll tell you about it.”

When Jane finally got to her bedroom, Katie was sprawled on her bed, petting the cats and teasing them with a string, but still looking sulky. "So what's the idea?"

“How about you and Jenny taking a cooking class for the rest of the summer? You'd both have fun, and it would be a way for me to pay back Jenny's folks for taking you to France with them. And it would save me some pain and hassle.”

Katie was determined to stay mad at her mother, but the idea obviously appealed to her. The rest of the summer vacation must have been looming over her as much as it was Jane. "You'd pay for both of us? And let us practice here?”

That was a scary thought, but Jane said, "Of course. As long as you clean up after yourselves. I'll even give you two a grocery allowance.”

Katie was still trying to maintain her sulk, and strolled away saying, "I guess I'll ask Jenny what she thinks.”

But once she was out of the bedroom, Jane could hear Katie running down the hall to call Jenny on her extension.

Sixteen
"

Cooking lessons!"
Shelley exclaimed the
next morning as she was helping Jane into the van. "What a good idea. Could we sign Denise up as well? I'd do anything to get her out from underfoot — take them to the lessons and make sure they clean up your kitchen."

“Yes to Denise, yes to driving them, but no to cleaning. You know you'd end up doing it yourself. Part of any job is tidying up as you go along. That's as important in cooking as the ingredients."

“You're right. Are all your parts and paraphernalia in the van now?”

As she took off backwards in the driveway at a speed Jane wouldn't have driven going forward, Shelley said, "I heard Mike's truck come home after midnight."

“I didn't," Jane said. "I woke suddenly at three A.M. and went to see if he was home. 1 got a crutch stuck in the legs of that foul little table in the upstairs hall, the one that's overbalanced, and woke the whole house up. The kids complained, the cats scattered, and Willard nearly barked himself into a full-fledged fit."

“My aunt Eleanor had a rule you should know about grown kids coming back home. She said the standards in her house were up to her. It didn't matter that they didn't have to come home at a certain time and check in when they were in college or living elsewhere, but when they stayed with her, they were her children and had to live up to her standards."

“And did it work?"

“My cousin Bill got divorced at thirty and moved in with her for a month. He had an eleven-o'clock curfew. If he was so much as a minute late, Aunt Eleanor wouldn't fix him breakfast. Bill
lived
for breakfast."

“I'm going to have to have a talk with Mike. May I cite you as my authority?"

“Cite away.”

They were the first to arrive at the classroom. Ursula came moments later, having an intense discussion with Miss Winstead about Chinese computer-geek immigrants being banned from getting visas. Somehow the House of Windsor seemed to figure in the theory, but it was impossible to guess whether the Chinese immigrants were the Good Guys or the Bad. But clearly Queen Elizabeth was on the baddies' side. Miss Winstead was preoccupied and had obviously tuned Ursula out, merely nodding and making neutral noises.

Ursula abandoned Miss Winstead when she spotted Jane. "I've got a whole new menu for you tonight. You'll love it. You wash, dry, brown, and grind rye seed from the nursery. Grass seed, my dear. Plain old grass seed. Be sure it's pesticide-free, of course, and it makes the most wonderful muffins to spread with butter flavoring added to tofu. Mine's baking dry right now, and this evening I'll grind it and make you bread."

“No," Jane said firmly. "It sounds interesting, but I'm signing my daughter and two of her friends up for a cooking class today and I really must eat whatever they serve. It's a sacrifice, naturally, but what can a mother do?"

“What a good idea. There's a health food store across town that holds cooking classes. I'll give you the phone number." Ursula rummaged in one of her bags, dropping a computer disk, a huge pair of orange-tinted plastic sunglasses, and a tattered facial tissue on the floor, and finally came up with a scrap of paper and a pencil.

“I sometimes give classes there myself," she said, handing the phone number to Jane. As Jane folded the paper to put it in her pocket, she couldn't help but notice that it was on the back of an advertisement for naturally grown cotton made into bras by downtrodden Mexican immigrants.

“Thank you, Ursula," Jane said with a forced smile.

Arnold Waring and Charles Jones must have met up in the parking lot, because they were well into a conversation about a motion that was supposed to be coming before the town council about what color gardening hoses could be left out in front yards. They were in accord that it was nobody's business but the homeowner's and were each goading the other into attending the meeting and speaking to the issue.

Stefan was just behind them and waiting patiently outside the door until Arnie and Charles finally got out of the way. He sat down behind Shelley and Jane and sorted out some files he'd brought along, mumbling to himself and putting sticky notes on some of the papers.

Jane interrupted him to ask if he knew whether Geneva Jackson was coming along today. He replied that she'd caught up to him at the nearest stop sign and waved him over to say she was going to the hospital to visit her sister, now that Julie was well enough to fend off Geneva's hearty good cheer, which drove sick people wild.

Dr. Eastman finally arrived, winded from hurrying and looking a bit frayed at the edges. Jane wondered if something had happened to him since the day before, or whether Miss Winstead's presence was finally unraveling him.

He looked over the class and said, "Miss Jackson's sister, Geneva, found some of Dr. Julie Jackson's notes she'd prepared for this class. She was tidying up the office when the police finished their examination and came across the file. So instead of the material I'd prepared for today, I think we should go over some of the material she had readyfor you. And after that we'll take a tour of Miss Winstead's garden and Mr. Jones's. If you remember, they live next door to one another.”

He then launched into what would have been Julie Jackson's talk. It was clearly geared for amateurs and was far more interesting to the group than anything Dr. Eastman had said, even though he was reading it with obvious boredom with the basic essentials.

Shelley and Jane took copious notes. The beginning was about soil conditions and was the first time Jane thought she might just eventually understand what grew in acid soil and what preferred alkaline conditions. She'd probably forget it later, but she'd have the clear listings in her notebook. Julie Jackson's voice, coming through Dr. Eastman's vocal cords, was clear and concise. Lists of common plants that liked acid soil in alphabetical order. What to do to alkaline soil to grow them well. Another list of sun and shade plants. Hostas, she said, could take more sun
or
shade than most people thought.

Dr. Jackson was theoretically opposed to strong chemicals, but admitted everyone needed at least one bottle of weed killer and described how, when, and where to use it, and not use it, and how to protect yourself, the good plants, and the pets and children from the poison.

Furthermore, she listed plants you didn't want to have in a garden if children or pets might try to eat them. The first on the list was monkshood. The second was oleander.

Jane was scribbling like mad and so was Shelley. They'd compare their notes later and fill in the blanks. Jane made a note to tell Shelley about the mystery she'd read once in which someone at a hot-dog cookout was given an oleander stick instead of a harmless one to skewer a hot dog. What was the name of the author?