Read Online The Busy Woman's Guide to Murder by Mary Jane Maffini - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Jane Maffini
Ads: Link
were very lucky in our friendships. You know that?”
Jack turned to face me. “Still are lucky.”
“And you’re right, Jack. I guess if you can’t forgive, it would only be bad for you.”
“Sure. It would blight your existence. Make you bitter. Color the way you perceive life and limit your joy.”
Pondering that, I headed up the stairs to take the dogs out. It was a bright, cold April night, with eight inches of recently fallen snow turning our street into a wonderland. That would have been good at Christmas, but it was just plain bizarre at this time of year. It was beautiful though. Quiet, calm, and soothing now that we didn’t have to drive in it. The dogs did not share my opinion on the wonderland. They do not do cold and snow. It’s summer or nothing for them. This might have been the shortest dog walk on record.
In our brief absence Jack had made himself at home in my living room and Truffle and Sweet Marie flung themselves at him to warm up.
I joined him on the sofa and said, “The others seemed pretty bothered by it.”
“Because we were all talking about it. That brought it back. But I bet they don’t give it a moment’s thought otherwise. We’re all busy and successful in our own way, Charlotte. That childish cruelty can’t do anyone any harm now.”
“Hope you’re right. I stirred it up, I suppose, by talking about Haley and the victim.”
The rest of the evening, I was distracted by thoughts of Mona. She had obviously not forgiven her tormentors and just as obviously had no intention of starting now.
Was Mona a danger to anyone in her angry and emotional state? Or was I just being overly dramatic? I couldn’t shake the thoughts as I tidied up and laid out my clothes for the morning, or later as I made my To Do list. That’s right, even on Sunday, there’s always something worth doing. I made sure I had no more than five key items identified, and four of them were just plain fun. That was something I’d come to realize in the past few months. I kept a master list of chores, tasks, goals, and targets, and checked it first. One of my goals was to have more fun. Another was to spend more quality time with Jack. Still another was to try to eat better. Once I hit thirty-one, I started to notice that certain foods stayed with me, in places I’d rather they didn’t settle. Oh well, nothing lasts forever.
I set two places for breakfast, something new that Jack and I were sharing in pursuit of that healthier post-thirty lifestyle, not that Jack ever gained an ounce. Breakfast was my job. Jack used to love to cook, but I hated the chaos he’d create in my kitchen and now he seems to have forgotten how to do anything except order out. I wondered if there was a solution to that as I cut up some vegetable sticks for the next day, prepared some juice, set out the cereal box, vitamins, and a bit of fruit. I made sure the coffee was ready to go. I emptied my handbag and put away papers that needed to be filed, added a few things to my ongoing grocery list on the fridge. I washed my face, exfoliated, brushed my teeth, flossed, slathered on moisturizer to prevent dry winter skin, even though winter should have been long gone. All good, but even I knew it was boring.
Jack had been reading a crime novel on the sofa throughout this, one dog asleep in the crook of his arm, the other stretched out against his leg. It was an updated Norman Rockwell picture, even with Jack’s soft snores as he dozed off. Still, I couldn’t relax. I knew it was because of my Mona worries. I kept expecting the phone to ring. I checked my cell phone. I checked my landline. I checked my cell phone again. No new messages from Mona or anyone else. Jack opened his eyes, yawned and stretched.
I said, “Let’s just get the Ben and Jerry’s and not talk about this whole bullying thing.”
“But you’ve already brushed your teeth.”
“I’ll brush them again. What part of ‘don’t talk’ isn’t clear to you, Mr.
Jack turned to face me. “Still are lucky.”
“And you’re right, Jack. I guess if you can’t forgive, it would only be bad for you.”
“Sure. It would blight your existence. Make you bitter. Color the way you perceive life and limit your joy.”
Pondering that, I headed up the stairs to take the dogs out. It was a bright, cold April night, with eight inches of recently fallen snow turning our street into a wonderland. That would have been good at Christmas, but it was just plain bizarre at this time of year. It was beautiful though. Quiet, calm, and soothing now that we didn’t have to drive in it. The dogs did not share my opinion on the wonderland. They do not do cold and snow. It’s summer or nothing for them. This might have been the shortest dog walk on record.
In our brief absence Jack had made himself at home in my living room and Truffle and Sweet Marie flung themselves at him to warm up.
I joined him on the sofa and said, “The others seemed pretty bothered by it.”
“Because we were all talking about it. That brought it back. But I bet they don’t give it a moment’s thought otherwise. We’re all busy and successful in our own way, Charlotte. That childish cruelty can’t do anyone any harm now.”
“Hope you’re right. I stirred it up, I suppose, by talking about Haley and the victim.”
The rest of the evening, I was distracted by thoughts of Mona. She had obviously not forgiven her tormentors and just as obviously had no intention of starting now.
Was Mona a danger to anyone in her angry and emotional state? Or was I just being overly dramatic? I couldn’t shake the thoughts as I tidied up and laid out my clothes for the morning, or later as I made my To Do list. That’s right, even on Sunday, there’s always something worth doing. I made sure I had no more than five key items identified, and four of them were just plain fun. That was something I’d come to realize in the past few months. I kept a master list of chores, tasks, goals, and targets, and checked it first. One of my goals was to have more fun. Another was to spend more quality time with Jack. Still another was to try to eat better. Once I hit thirty-one, I started to notice that certain foods stayed with me, in places I’d rather they didn’t settle. Oh well, nothing lasts forever.
I set two places for breakfast, something new that Jack and I were sharing in pursuit of that healthier post-thirty lifestyle, not that Jack ever gained an ounce. Breakfast was my job. Jack used to love to cook, but I hated the chaos he’d create in my kitchen and now he seems to have forgotten how to do anything except order out. I wondered if there was a solution to that as I cut up some vegetable sticks for the next day, prepared some juice, set out the cereal box, vitamins, and a bit of fruit. I made sure the coffee was ready to go. I emptied my handbag and put away papers that needed to be filed, added a few things to my ongoing grocery list on the fridge. I washed my face, exfoliated, brushed my teeth, flossed, slathered on moisturizer to prevent dry winter skin, even though winter should have been long gone. All good, but even I knew it was boring.
Jack had been reading a crime novel on the sofa throughout this, one dog asleep in the crook of his arm, the other stretched out against his leg. It was an updated Norman Rockwell picture, even with Jack’s soft snores as he dozed off. Still, I couldn’t relax. I knew it was because of my Mona worries. I kept expecting the phone to ring. I checked my cell phone. I checked my landline. I checked my cell phone again. No new messages from Mona or anyone else. Jack opened his eyes, yawned and stretched.
I said, “Let’s just get the Ben and Jerry’s and not talk about this whole bullying thing.”
“But you’ve already brushed your teeth.”
“I’ll brush them again. What part of ‘don’t talk’ isn’t clear to you, Mr.
Similar Books
