natural assumption made in this town.”
Nathalie nodded. “Those who know the two of you know the truth. But The Tastemaker isn’t necessarily interested in that kind of truth.”
“He didn’t expose you, when you were involved with Eugene.”
“No, he didn’t. I wasn’t interesting enough.”
“And he’s only come to prominence in the past couple of years,” Oliver added.
“Should we have the Senator come over?” Mona asked. “This seems like a good reason to have a meeting.”
Everyone started talking. Everyone other than Mom and Olga. They were both still watching the TV, as if they weren’t paying any attention. I knew my mother and I knew Olga—they’d both heard everything. Therefore, if they were off pretending they weren’t here, something else was going on.
Sidled over. “What’s so fascinating on the news?” I asked softly. Looked like more footage of the bombings at the protest.
“Timing,” Mom said.
Great. Mom was now playing Olga’s game. Hoped Mona had migraine meds around somewhere. “Timing of what?”
“Of everything,” Olga replied.
“You mean my phone calls, the bombings, the warnings from my ‘uncles,’ Jeff’s potential appointment, our Embassy being gassed, or something else?”
“Yes,” Mom said. Fantastic. She wanted me to figure out what was wrong. As if this day wasn’t going badly enough.
As my mother was well aware, I thought better by running my mouth. Olga knew this, too. Ergo, they expected me to so run. Never an issue.
“Well, Bruce Jenkins calling right now seems related to the news stating that Jeff’s going to be Senator Armstrong’s VP candidate. The bombings seem related to the desire to kill us all, especially since there were bombings at Centaurion bases as well as the protest. Missus Maurer might have been cluelessly warning me, or she might have been trying to drive me into the poison gas.”
“It’s been a busy day so far,” Olga said. Ah, so she was going to try to toss me some breadcrumbs.
“Yes, it has, and I’m clear, you two want me to pay attention and think.” Turned and watched the TV with them. The others were still discussing strategy—how to circumvent Jenkins mostly.
The newscaster was saying that the police had no leads for who’d placed the bombs. Mad bombers had to be more important than a gossip columnist.
“So no one’s figured out that Club Fifty-One set the bombs, probably with the help of the Church of Intolerance?”
“You know, for a fact, that they’re the ones responsible?” Mom asked.
“Well . . . no.” Footage of the bombing was rolling again. It was really miraculous that no one had been injured. The newscaster was saying the same. Considered. “Club Fifty-One is funded and supported and given very bad things to use against us, but they’re not really . . . good at it.”
Mom’s lips quirked. “No. For which I’m personally thankful.”
“Glad to know you’re not all for them offing your only child.”
“No, I’m very attached to you.” Mom looked at me. “But then, you know that.”
My mind chose to give me a nudge. “Oh. You think my ‘uncles’ contacted everyone because they were, in fact, setting up and detonating the bombs?”
“I think the idea has merit,” Olga said as Mom turned back to the TV. “However, as always, there are other options that must be considered.”
“Mossad is in town and Dad’s at the Israeli embassy. And Mossad would probably like to get their hands on my ‘uncles,’ right?”
“Among others,” Mom said. “How’s William working out?”
Mom had clearly been comparing notes with Olga about the best way to give someone mental whiplash. However, I was used to it from both of them by now, so only needed a couple of seconds to make the mental switch. “What would this have to do with Gladys?”
Mom’s lips quirked again. I wondered if I’d done something to piss her off recently. Maybe not enough Grandma Time with Jamie.
Nathalie nodded. “Those who know the two of you know the truth. But The Tastemaker isn’t necessarily interested in that kind of truth.”
“He didn’t expose you, when you were involved with Eugene.”
“No, he didn’t. I wasn’t interesting enough.”
“And he’s only come to prominence in the past couple of years,” Oliver added.
“Should we have the Senator come over?” Mona asked. “This seems like a good reason to have a meeting.”
Everyone started talking. Everyone other than Mom and Olga. They were both still watching the TV, as if they weren’t paying any attention. I knew my mother and I knew Olga—they’d both heard everything. Therefore, if they were off pretending they weren’t here, something else was going on.
Sidled over. “What’s so fascinating on the news?” I asked softly. Looked like more footage of the bombings at the protest.
“Timing,” Mom said.
Great. Mom was now playing Olga’s game. Hoped Mona had migraine meds around somewhere. “Timing of what?”
“Of everything,” Olga replied.
“You mean my phone calls, the bombings, the warnings from my ‘uncles,’ Jeff’s potential appointment, our Embassy being gassed, or something else?”
“Yes,” Mom said. Fantastic. She wanted me to figure out what was wrong. As if this day wasn’t going badly enough.
As my mother was well aware, I thought better by running my mouth. Olga knew this, too. Ergo, they expected me to so run. Never an issue.
“Well, Bruce Jenkins calling right now seems related to the news stating that Jeff’s going to be Senator Armstrong’s VP candidate. The bombings seem related to the desire to kill us all, especially since there were bombings at Centaurion bases as well as the protest. Missus Maurer might have been cluelessly warning me, or she might have been trying to drive me into the poison gas.”
“It’s been a busy day so far,” Olga said. Ah, so she was going to try to toss me some breadcrumbs.
“Yes, it has, and I’m clear, you two want me to pay attention and think.” Turned and watched the TV with them. The others were still discussing strategy—how to circumvent Jenkins mostly.
The newscaster was saying that the police had no leads for who’d placed the bombs. Mad bombers had to be more important than a gossip columnist.
“So no one’s figured out that Club Fifty-One set the bombs, probably with the help of the Church of Intolerance?”
“You know, for a fact, that they’re the ones responsible?” Mom asked.
“Well . . . no.” Footage of the bombing was rolling again. It was really miraculous that no one had been injured. The newscaster was saying the same. Considered. “Club Fifty-One is funded and supported and given very bad things to use against us, but they’re not really . . . good at it.”
Mom’s lips quirked. “No. For which I’m personally thankful.”
“Glad to know you’re not all for them offing your only child.”
“No, I’m very attached to you.” Mom looked at me. “But then, you know that.”
My mind chose to give me a nudge. “Oh. You think my ‘uncles’ contacted everyone because they were, in fact, setting up and detonating the bombs?”
“I think the idea has merit,” Olga said as Mom turned back to the TV. “However, as always, there are other options that must be considered.”
“Mossad is in town and Dad’s at the Israeli embassy. And Mossad would probably like to get their hands on my ‘uncles,’ right?”
“Among others,” Mom said. “How’s William working out?”
Mom had clearly been comparing notes with Olga about the best way to give someone mental whiplash. However, I was used to it from both of them by now, so only needed a couple of seconds to make the mental switch. “What would this have to do with Gladys?”
Mom’s lips quirked again. I wondered if I’d done something to piss her off recently. Maybe not enough Grandma Time with Jamie.
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