Read Online Ms America and the Whoopsie in Winona by Diana Dempsey - Free Book Online
Authors: Diana Dempsey
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three have on your faces?”
“Let me take your coat, Mrs. Przybyszewski,” Shanelle says while Trixie shuts the front door and starts babbling about the masque.
“You might want to try it, too, Mrs. P. It feels kind of tingly but that’s because it makes your skin look younger by accelerating cell turnover. Happy says the clay is mined from the Iberian Mountains, one of the purest clay resorts in the world.”
My mother waves a dismissive hand. “I don’t need that crap. My skin is already radiant and as soft as a baby’s bottom. At least that’s what that Bennie tells me. Oh look, Happy! There’s your father.”
“Hazel!” Pop could not look more astonished if it were Ingrid who just materialized in the foyer. And in contrast to my mom’s coiffed hairdo and zingy zebra-stripe top, he’s at quite a disadvantage appearance-wise with his uncombed hair and bedraggled striped pajamas.
“I know it’s a shock to see me,” my mom says. “It’s a shock I could get off work.” She turns to me. “ ‘Indispensable,’ that’s what Bennie says I am now. And he doesn’t just mean in the office. Anyhow, I said to Bennie: Bennie, when my daughter needs me, what else can I do but go to her?”
My mom is laying on the Bennie thing a little thick but she’s never been known for subtlety. And now that I see a certain gleam in her eye, I’m 100 percent sure I know why she showed up in Winona.
She got wind from Rachel that Maggie is trying to finagle a marriage proposal from Pop. And the original Mrs. Lou Przybyszewski wants to do what she can to head off that abomination. My burgeoning congestion is just a convenient excuse.
Sort of makes me wonder if she pulled some trick to get me sick. Like rub my coffee mug with used Kleenex she collected at bingo. I love my mom but I’m on to her.
Maggie sashays into the foyer wearing a low-cut black negligee and leopard-print marabou slippers with 3-inch heels. My mother walks forward to grasp her hands. “Condolences on your loss. I’ve already lit a candle for your sister and I plan to say a novena.” My mother is positively purring. This is quite the performance, I’m sure for my father’s benefit. No one would ever guess she believes she’s talking to a sister killer. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Maggie blinks at my mother. “I can’t get over that you’re here in Winona.”
“It’s a surprise to me, too,” Pop says. He seems a trifle wary. I don’t blame him.
“I’m hoping you can find a little room for me somewhere in this big house,” my mother says. “Of course I could stay at a hotel—”
Maggie’s eyes light up but I head her off. “Of course you’ll stay here, Mom. There’s a lovely bedroom on this floor with an en suite bath. I’ll go make sure the bed has clean sheets.”
“How about some cocoa?” Trixie offers, and an hour later we all retire to our rooms with full bellies and the kitchen smelling of chocolate.
I’m more relaxed than I’ve been all day but I text Jason anyway. These days, what with his job offer, our interactions are often a tad strained.
I’m slammed, sweetie, he texts back. Made any decisions I should know about?
Darn. That’s all he wants to talk about these days. Not yet. But you should know there’s been another murder.
My cell rings. It’s Jason. “What the heck happened?” he wants to know and I give him the download. “You don’t seriously think Maggie did it, do you?” he asks.
“She doesn’t seem the type but you never know. She had motive big time. And she went AWOL right when Ingrid got shot.”
Jason looses a low whistle. “Your dad sure knows how to pick ‘em.”
I know he’s not referring just to Maggie. “What’s Rachel been up to?”
“Cramming for a physics test tomorrow.”
“Another one?”
“It’s an AP class, babe.”
The only insight Jason and I have into advanced-placement classes is through our Einstein daughter. “By the way
“Let me take your coat, Mrs. Przybyszewski,” Shanelle says while Trixie shuts the front door and starts babbling about the masque.
“You might want to try it, too, Mrs. P. It feels kind of tingly but that’s because it makes your skin look younger by accelerating cell turnover. Happy says the clay is mined from the Iberian Mountains, one of the purest clay resorts in the world.”
My mother waves a dismissive hand. “I don’t need that crap. My skin is already radiant and as soft as a baby’s bottom. At least that’s what that Bennie tells me. Oh look, Happy! There’s your father.”
“Hazel!” Pop could not look more astonished if it were Ingrid who just materialized in the foyer. And in contrast to my mom’s coiffed hairdo and zingy zebra-stripe top, he’s at quite a disadvantage appearance-wise with his uncombed hair and bedraggled striped pajamas.
“I know it’s a shock to see me,” my mom says. “It’s a shock I could get off work.” She turns to me. “ ‘Indispensable,’ that’s what Bennie says I am now. And he doesn’t just mean in the office. Anyhow, I said to Bennie: Bennie, when my daughter needs me, what else can I do but go to her?”
My mom is laying on the Bennie thing a little thick but she’s never been known for subtlety. And now that I see a certain gleam in her eye, I’m 100 percent sure I know why she showed up in Winona.
She got wind from Rachel that Maggie is trying to finagle a marriage proposal from Pop. And the original Mrs. Lou Przybyszewski wants to do what she can to head off that abomination. My burgeoning congestion is just a convenient excuse.
Sort of makes me wonder if she pulled some trick to get me sick. Like rub my coffee mug with used Kleenex she collected at bingo. I love my mom but I’m on to her.
Maggie sashays into the foyer wearing a low-cut black negligee and leopard-print marabou slippers with 3-inch heels. My mother walks forward to grasp her hands. “Condolences on your loss. I’ve already lit a candle for your sister and I plan to say a novena.” My mother is positively purring. This is quite the performance, I’m sure for my father’s benefit. No one would ever guess she believes she’s talking to a sister killer. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Maggie blinks at my mother. “I can’t get over that you’re here in Winona.”
“It’s a surprise to me, too,” Pop says. He seems a trifle wary. I don’t blame him.
“I’m hoping you can find a little room for me somewhere in this big house,” my mother says. “Of course I could stay at a hotel—”
Maggie’s eyes light up but I head her off. “Of course you’ll stay here, Mom. There’s a lovely bedroom on this floor with an en suite bath. I’ll go make sure the bed has clean sheets.”
“How about some cocoa?” Trixie offers, and an hour later we all retire to our rooms with full bellies and the kitchen smelling of chocolate.
I’m more relaxed than I’ve been all day but I text Jason anyway. These days, what with his job offer, our interactions are often a tad strained.
I’m slammed, sweetie, he texts back. Made any decisions I should know about?
Darn. That’s all he wants to talk about these days. Not yet. But you should know there’s been another murder.
My cell rings. It’s Jason. “What the heck happened?” he wants to know and I give him the download. “You don’t seriously think Maggie did it, do you?” he asks.
“She doesn’t seem the type but you never know. She had motive big time. And she went AWOL right when Ingrid got shot.”
Jason looses a low whistle. “Your dad sure knows how to pick ‘em.”
I know he’s not referring just to Maggie. “What’s Rachel been up to?”
“Cramming for a physics test tomorrow.”
“Another one?”
“It’s an AP class, babe.”
The only insight Jason and I have into advanced-placement classes is through our Einstein daughter. “By the way
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