“So I’ve heard.”
Emily drifted a few feet away from us. I knew the only thing she wanted to do was buy what she was holding and get back in the car and go home. But it had been a while since I’d talked to Olga and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to the mortuary. And even though I’d taken myself off the case of finding Amanda Pendleton, I was still curious about her and still interested in what Olga had to say.
“I’d heard she’d gotten herself back on track,” Olga said. “Friend of mine, her daughter goes to school with her. And we handled their great aunt’s service not too long ago. She was a very nice, polite girl.” She looked past me to Emily. “About her age, right?”
“Yes, I believe so,” I said. “So, yeah, it’s been a bit of a struggle. But the production is this weekend, so we made it through.”
“Oh, good. Maybe I’ll try and come.” She scowled. “As long as that nitwit Eleanor stays out of my way. And her stupid daughter, too.”
“I don’t think you’ll see much of either of them,” I said. “Eleanor will probably be backstage the whole time and the only place you’ll see Madison is on stage, since she’s taking over the Snow White role.”
Olga snorted. “Great. Another production where she’s the star. Well, I wouldn’t be coming to see her fat face – but I would come to support your little girls.”
I stifled a laugh. Olga was nothing if she wasn’t direct. I’d been a victim of her wrath before and she had never been one to mince words. “That would be lovely.”
“Well, I should get back to Jean with this foundation.” She picked up the tube from her basket. “This stuff is great. It’s not like my airbrush make-up – stupid thing broke again, can you believe it? – but it offers great coverage for dead—I mean, pale skin.”
I thought I heard Emily gag.
“And I should let you finish picking out your special purchases,” she said, winking at Emily.
Emily whirled on her heels and marched for the cash register.
Olga waved and tottered off down the aisle.
I hurried to catch up with my mortified daughter. “So, what were you saying about not seeing anyone we know?”
THIRTY SIX
“You’ll have to take them to the dress rehearsal,” I said to Jake. “Since I’m still banned.”
“I thought you had some breakthrough conversation with the crazy woman at the grocery store,” Jake said.
“She spoke to me,” I said. “But she didn’t un-ban me.”
We were folding laundry up in our bedroom, the freshly dried load of clothes in a mountain on our bed.
“Look, if anyone says you are banned, I will be happy to set them straight.”
“I don’t want to make a scene,” I said. “And I don’t want you to, either.”
“Since when do you not want to make a scene?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I swatted him with a sock. “I don’t like making scenes. They just… find me.”
“Weird how that happens, “ Jake mumbled.
“So, you’ll take them.” I said this more as a statement than a question.
“No. We will.” He grabbed a T-shirt and shook it before folding it in half. “Look, we paid for the girls to be a part of the show. You designed the program thing. We’ve shown up for everything that’s been required. There’s absolutely no way she is banning you from the theater.”
“But if she still thinks I’m banned, I don’t want to cause problems by showing up. I don’t want to make it awkward for the girls,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “The only that might be awkward is if I have take that Eleanor woman and stuff her in a costume trunk. Because I’m not sure she’ll fit. You’re going to the dress rehearsal and the performances. End of story.”
I rolled a pair of socks together and said nothing. I appreciated that he defended me no matter what, and I had no doubt he actually would stuff Eleanor into a costume trunk if he had to. He’d have no problem telling Eleanor that he was going to lock the entire theater up and keep everyone out until she let me in, if that was what it took.
But I really was leery of causing a scene and bringing attention to the girls. I didn’t want them to be embarrassed in front of the other kids, or to think I was causing some sort of problem for them. As much as Sophie liked to act and Grace begged for the spotlight, I didn’t like making them the center of attention for something they hadn’t done.
“Stop fretting over it,” Jake said, eyeing me over the shrinking mountain of laundry. “It’ll be fine.”
“Says the guy who isn’t banned.”
“There is no ban!” he said. “What is she going to do? Stand at the door and wait for you to come through it? No, she’ll be backstage, yelling her brains out, like always. And, no, before you even suggest it, she won’t have provided a banned list to whoever is working the door. It’s not like we have to provide I.D. to get in.”
“Maybe we will,” I said. “Maybe she’ll have, like, eye scanners or something.”
“Yes. There will probably be eye scanners. That seems reasonable and possible. I mean, it is Moose River.”
I threw a pair of underwear at him, but he ducked and it sailed over his head, landing on the windowsill.
“I just don’t want it to be an issue,” I told him.
“It won’t be. I promise.”
We finished folding the laundry, and I delivered the stacks to the appropriate rooms. Jake stayed in our room and I found him sprawled on his back on the bed, his hands behind his stomach, his eyes closed.
“Laundry wear you out?” I asked, setting the white laundry basket on the scuffed wood floor.
He opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Really glad I have, like, a job where I have to leave the house. Not sure how you get all of this done on a daily basis.”
“I’m pretty amazing,” I said, dropping onto the bed next to him. “I’m like bionic or something.”
“Or something.”
We laid there in silence for a few minutes, both of us staring at the ceiling, enjoying the quiet. My leg pressed into his thigh and he shifted closer, bringing his full length alongside me.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he said.
“So?”
“You’re never quiet.”
“That is not true!”
“Daisy.” The word was almost a reprimand.
We lay there for another minute before I sighed.
“I’m not sure I can be a detective,” I finally told him.
“Why is that?”
“Because I’ve been totally wrong about Amanda,” I said. “Everyone maintained that she probably just ran away. But I kept looking at everyone as a suspect. Well, guess what? All of my suspects? Pretty sure they didn’t do anything.”
“Isn’t that called...investigating?” he asked.
“Investigating badly,” I clarified. “I think I just need to remember that I’m a mom and a wife first, and everything else second. Chef, chauffeur, maid, teacher. But investigator? That shouldn’t even rank.”
“You know, I love you as a mom and a wife,” he said, rolling onto his side. He put his arm over me. “You’re great at being both. And you run this house better than I ever could. And you teach these kids better than any school could because you know them – you know how their brains work and what they’ll respond to. But I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to be just those things. One of the reasons I brought up investigating was because I thought you were bored, like I told you. Like you needed something else. If you ever want something else, I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have the option of going and getting it.”
I laid my hand over his. “Thank you. For saying that, and for meaning it. But I’m gonna focus on you and the kids for awhile.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly. “Really, truly?”
“Yes,” I said. “The kids were just jabbering in the car earlier and realized I hadn’t heard that in awhile,” I explained. “Because I don’t think I’ve been listening. And I don’t want to be one of those moms that all of a sudden wakes up and my kids are gone.”