Read Online Death at a Drop-In by Elizabeth Spann Craig - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Spann Craig
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with him.”
Myrtle was now truly worried that the conversation would veer off into ‘extraordinary Noah’ territory. She quickly said, “Joan wasn’t interested in being a society woman, I take it?”
“She never appreciated the scrimping and saving her parents did to give her every advantage they could. Instead, she’s almost thrown it back in their faces. It must really have hurt Lucas and Cosette, I’m sure. And—bless her heart—but she’s nobody’s pretty child. Maybe that’s why she was so dreadfully awkward at parties. Still, Cosette and Lucas kept right on giving everything they could to Joan and Noah. Did you hear about the special tutors that child has?” asked Hazel, face brightening. “It’s really extraordinary how they’ve found teachers to help encourage his gifts. He’s already a wonder on the piano, and picks up languages in a second.”
It seemed like there was nothing else of substance that they were going to get from Hazel today. Miles looked over at Myrtle and said, “So sorry to interrupt, Hazel, but I think it’s time for us to head out. Myrtle and I have more soup to deliver.”
Myrtle fumbled for her cane and was already out on the doorstep when she turned to thank Hazel for the milk and cookies. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Miles leaning over and whispering something in Hazel’s ear. He seemed to be gesturing in the general vicinity of the kitchen. Myrtle refused to be paranoid, although she had the sneaking suspicion that Miles might be maligning her soup.
“Soup? That’s awfully nice of you,” said Joan, pushing her thick glasses up her nose and giving Myrtle and Miles a shy smile, stepping aside to let them into her home. “I’m sure the soup will really hit the spot. I was beginning to get tired of the chicken divan that the church ladies were bringing over. What a nice change. I’ll pop this in the fridge and then we can have a little visit. Noah is napping, so it’s the perfect time to talk. Have a seat.”
Joan went off to the kitchen, humming as she went. Yes, people did react to grief in different ways as Hazel had mentioned, but it sure seemed that Cosette’s death had put a spring in her daughter’s step.
Myrtle and Miles glanced around the small den for a place to sit down. Most of the furniture was covered with toys of all types and descriptions. The furniture itself, Myrtle noticed, looked to be both new and expensive, especially for a single mom on a preschool teacher’s budget. Had Cosette and Lucas pitched in for the furniture, too? It seemed like a given that the toys came from the doting grandparents.
“I thought we might want something to drink,” said Joan, coming back from the kitchen holding a small tray with tall glasses full of cola.
She’d already poured it, so Myrtle felt she couldn’t really turn it down. A visit to the powder room might be in order shortly, considering they’d had lemonade starting out on their visits, and then milk at Lucas’s house. Miles and Myrtle took the glasses with a smile. Then Myrtle cleared her throat. “We’re so sorry about your mother,” she said, trying to summon the appropriate concern. She didn’t want to overdo it, either, since Joan herself didn’t appear very distraught. “I was trying to think of something I could do to help you out. Could I watch Noah for you? Give you a break one afternoon?”
Joan said, “That’s really sweet of you, Miss Myrtle. People always offer help, but so rarely offer something specific. It would be wonderful if you could watch Noah for me during Mother’s funeral. I believe it will be a couple of days from now. I’d hate to have to bring him to the funeral.”
Myrtle gulped, but nodded. Now she’d really done it. She’d thought that her babysitting offer would be a good way to see more of Joan and get another shot at questioning her later. But she’d had every intention
Myrtle was now truly worried that the conversation would veer off into ‘extraordinary Noah’ territory. She quickly said, “Joan wasn’t interested in being a society woman, I take it?”
“She never appreciated the scrimping and saving her parents did to give her every advantage they could. Instead, she’s almost thrown it back in their faces. It must really have hurt Lucas and Cosette, I’m sure. And—bless her heart—but she’s nobody’s pretty child. Maybe that’s why she was so dreadfully awkward at parties. Still, Cosette and Lucas kept right on giving everything they could to Joan and Noah. Did you hear about the special tutors that child has?” asked Hazel, face brightening. “It’s really extraordinary how they’ve found teachers to help encourage his gifts. He’s already a wonder on the piano, and picks up languages in a second.”
It seemed like there was nothing else of substance that they were going to get from Hazel today. Miles looked over at Myrtle and said, “So sorry to interrupt, Hazel, but I think it’s time for us to head out. Myrtle and I have more soup to deliver.”
Myrtle fumbled for her cane and was already out on the doorstep when she turned to thank Hazel for the milk and cookies. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Miles leaning over and whispering something in Hazel’s ear. He seemed to be gesturing in the general vicinity of the kitchen. Myrtle refused to be paranoid, although she had the sneaking suspicion that Miles might be maligning her soup.
“Soup? That’s awfully nice of you,” said Joan, pushing her thick glasses up her nose and giving Myrtle and Miles a shy smile, stepping aside to let them into her home. “I’m sure the soup will really hit the spot. I was beginning to get tired of the chicken divan that the church ladies were bringing over. What a nice change. I’ll pop this in the fridge and then we can have a little visit. Noah is napping, so it’s the perfect time to talk. Have a seat.”
Joan went off to the kitchen, humming as she went. Yes, people did react to grief in different ways as Hazel had mentioned, but it sure seemed that Cosette’s death had put a spring in her daughter’s step.
Myrtle and Miles glanced around the small den for a place to sit down. Most of the furniture was covered with toys of all types and descriptions. The furniture itself, Myrtle noticed, looked to be both new and expensive, especially for a single mom on a preschool teacher’s budget. Had Cosette and Lucas pitched in for the furniture, too? It seemed like a given that the toys came from the doting grandparents.
“I thought we might want something to drink,” said Joan, coming back from the kitchen holding a small tray with tall glasses full of cola.
She’d already poured it, so Myrtle felt she couldn’t really turn it down. A visit to the powder room might be in order shortly, considering they’d had lemonade starting out on their visits, and then milk at Lucas’s house. Miles and Myrtle took the glasses with a smile. Then Myrtle cleared her throat. “We’re so sorry about your mother,” she said, trying to summon the appropriate concern. She didn’t want to overdo it, either, since Joan herself didn’t appear very distraught. “I was trying to think of something I could do to help you out. Could I watch Noah for you? Give you a break one afternoon?”
Joan said, “That’s really sweet of you, Miss Myrtle. People always offer help, but so rarely offer something specific. It would be wonderful if you could watch Noah for me during Mother’s funeral. I believe it will be a couple of days from now. I’d hate to have to bring him to the funeral.”
Myrtle gulped, but nodded. Now she’d really done it. She’d thought that her babysitting offer would be a good way to see more of Joan and get another shot at questioning her later. But she’d had every intention
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