Jane nodded. "So you can list a whole lot of them, mark the primes, and rearrange them."
Todd stared at her. "Gosh, Mom. I didn't know you knew about this kind of stuff."
"I liked math when I was your age, come to think of it. And before you kids were born I did the bookkeeping for the Jeffry family pharmacy."
"So could we move your computer out of the basement? I hate it down there. Maybe we could set it up in the living room."
"How about the dining room? We don't use it as often. Better yet, why don't we get you your own computer and you can help me move mine to my bedroom."
His eyes lit up like beacons. "You'd really do that? Buy me a computer? All my own?"
"It's an investment in your future, kiddo. Who knows, you might turn into another Einstein and support me in my old age. Now, what I came up here to tell you about is this. I had a talk with your math teacher this afternoon. You know that test you took at the beginning of school? "
"The math and language one? Yeah?"
"You're over the ninety-ninth percennle in math."
"Way cool! I'll bet the teacher thought I cheated."
"No, of course she didn't," Jane said. "Let's go buy some computer magazines before I have to fix dinner and see what's the best deal. But no modem. I don't want you roaming the Internet. There's a lot of nasty stuff there."
Todd rolled his eyes. "Mom, we have comput-
ers at school that block that stuff. You can do that yourself if you don't trust me. But there's got to be a lot of stuff on the Internet about prime numbers. You don't want me to reinvent the wheel, do you?"
"As much as I'll eventually regret saying this, Todd, you're right."
Nine
Jane spent the next two days studying computer magazines and making notes of costs and features. She and Todd went out both evenings looking them over. He was remarkably patient with her for being so thorough, especially because she had to keep asking clerks to remind her what the difference was between RAM and ROM. Todd knew which side his bread was buttered on and kept out of the discussion.
Jane was astonished to learn how little a computer costs these days. She had an old, slow one that she'd bought in a fit of pique one summer when the kids were driving her crazy and someone at the bank convinced her she needed it to do her budget. She'd paid at least four times what they cost now.
Jane couldn't quite believe she was doing this. She'd been so parsimonious for so long until that summer, when she'd had a bit of an epiphany when she broke her foot and decided she really didn't have to behave as a pauper. The kids had
their college funds set up. Her house had been paid off by her late husband's life insurance policy. Computers were necessary for kids now. And a better one was a justifiable purchase for her. She didn't need a new monitor or printer, so hers would be cheaper than Todd's.
She didn't even spot Shelley those two days. She assumed Shelley must have been busy redoing the contract, which was as close as she got to thinking about Bitsy's house renovation.
Finally she called her Uncle Jim early on Saturday morning. He worked for the Chicago police force and was far more knowledgeable about computers than she was. Jim was only an honorary uncle, an old friend of her family.
Jane said, "Uncle Jim, tell me what kind of computer to get. Don't explain why, please. I'm overloaded with information I don't understand. Just tell me brand and model. I'm getting one for Todd and one for myself."
Laughing, Uncle Jim named one. "Want me to load things from your dinosaur on there before you get started?"
"Oh. Can that be done?" She'd been afraid she'd have to completely retype the whole manuscript.
"I'll bring my stand-alone Zip drive and download what you want to keep. The computer you're getting already has an internal one to transfer it to and move it all onto the new one. How about a pork roast with mashed potatoes for
dinner at your house tonight? I'll come over early. I'm off duty at two."
"A small price to pay. Thanks, Uncle Jim."
"Why are you getting two?"
"Because Todd and I would fight over a good one. And he needs one of his own."
"Why's that?"
"I'll explain over dinner. Or let Todd explain."
"Okay. Do you remember what I said to get?"
"I think so," Jane said.
"Write this down. Exactly as I say." He made her read it back.
By Saturday at one o'clock, both Jane and Todd had computers in the house, somewhat unpacked and instructions sitting out. Todd, thank goodness, had his desk free since the last hamster died and he got rid of the elaborate cage.
Jane had the roast just starting to warm up when Uncle Jim arrived.
"Janey, darlin', your house smells so good. Did you get the computers I told you to?"
"Would I ask for advice and ignore it? Five o'clock and the food will be on the table."
Jim had Todd's computer ready to go and Jane's new one set up on her desk and running as she set the last part of the meal, the salad, on the dining room table.
"Mom, may I take my plate upstairs?" Todd asked.
Jane looked to Uncle Jim for approval. He nod-
ded and said, "But don't spill anything on the keyboard."
Todd, to Jane's relief, didn't make a face or mention that this warning was obvious.
"So what's this all about, Janey?" he said when Todd was gone.
She explained about Todd's amazing math score and the prime number deal. She didn't get into the teacher's suspicions. No reason to upset him. He'd have been even madder than Shelley had been.
"I'm glad you've done this for him. And for yourself. You've always been too damned stingy with yourself. I guess the Jeffry pharmacies are going well. I saw another new one on my way over."
"They're making money hand over fist. I almost feel guilty about my share of the money. I don't do any of the work."
"But that was the deal when you used that inheritance of yours to bail them out when they were about to go under, wasn't it? And the one good thing your husband did was to insist you'd get his third share forever as part of the deal."
"He didn't exactly mean to die and leave it to me," Jane said. "But I'm glad it was written that way. And it's finally allowed me to get the college funds set up and spend a bit on myself."
"It must break Thelma's heart," Jim said, rubbing his hands together. He'd harbored a strong dislike for Jane's mother-in-law for decades.
"I'm not so sure. Steve's brother Ted's wife, Dixie, still hasn't had the baby they so desperately want, and Thelma's crazy about grandchildren. Not so crazy about me, though. I think if I hadn't had the kids when Steve died, she'd have tried to contest the contract."
"She wouldn't have gotten anywhere with that," Jim said. Changing the subject, he asked, "So how are your folks doing in Denmark?"
"They must be fine," Jane said. "I haven't had an E-mail from them for the last week. This trip is just a vacation. Not a diplomacy job."
"Speaking of jobs, how are you filling your free time?" Jim asked.
Jane laughed. "You wouldn't believe what Shelley's trying to get us into. A feminist home renovation. Don't look at me like that, Uncle Jim. We haven't agreed to do it yet. Shelley's rewriting the contract they offered us and really jacking up the perks."
"What in the world do the two of you know about renovating?"
"We're just to be the decorators."
Jane explained about Bitsy and her influx of money. About Sandy. About Jack and Henry. With a couple of days of not thinking about it, it seemed outrageously funny even to her. But when she got to the story of the spoiled shrimp in the air ducts, Jim asked, "Did anyone 'fess up?"
"Nope. Not that I know of. The furnace guy who'd done the duct work was furious."
"Of course he was. Was it some idiot's idea of a joke or sabotage?" Jim asked.
"I don't know. Bitsy thinks her ex-husband is responsible. That must have been one of the nastiest divorces in history. Aside
from a few of Henry the Eighth's that come to mind."
"I'd be careful of taking this job if I were you," Jim said. "I don't want to overstep my bounds, but that's my advice."
"I think I agree. The contract we were given wasn't even grammatical. And Shelley says it's outrageously stingy. But if she can put over the one she's working on, it could be fun for us and very profitable."
"I thought you were just talking about already being financially comfortable."
"Comfortable. Just barely. But who in their right mind wouldn't like a bit more money to spend?"
"You don't say that with conviction," Uncle Jim said with a smile. "Cough up what this is really about."
"It'll sound silly to you. You have a job. But, Uncle Jim, my job has always been to raise my kids to be independent when they're grown, and I'm almost there. Katie will go to college next year and Todd a couple of years later. I've had my full share of club and volunteer work. I don't want to turn into one of those women who consider bridge night or bingo tournaments with a bunch of their peers the highlight of the week."
Uncle Jim patted her hand. "I do understand, Janey. That's why I'm still plugging away, even though I'm only a desk jockey these days. It isn't the money. It's the pride and challenge of doing something well enough to be paid." He leaned back from the table. "Now, darlin', what's for dessert?"
Ten
Bright and early Monday morning, Shelley was at Jane's door. "Let's fortify ourselves with a good breakfast and then tackle Bitsy."
"You're doing the tackling, right? I'm just the cheering section. I hope."
"I'll be happy to carry it out, but you have to read my version of the contract first, so you'll know when to cheer."
"Is it really good?"
Shelley pulled herself up into a pillar of indignation. "Of course."
"I really should call Mel first. He left four messages on my phone over the weekend, explaining that he was finishing up the paperwork on a big case and asking me to call him back. But I was so busy, and the times I did call, he was away from his desk. What a romance. Phone tag only. We're both afraid to leave a sexy message for fear someone else will hear it first."
"Busy with what?" Shelley demanded, ignoring Jane's reply.
"Buying computers."
"Plural?"
"One for me and one for Todd."
"Explain this to me on the way. I want your full attention on the contract while we eat. You need to drive. My van is making a funny noise."
Jane was astonished. "You'd ride in my disreputable station wagon? I'd have cleaned it out if I'd known."
"No, you wouldn't have. But I don't care. Just as long as there's somewhere to sit where there aren't bags of birdseed, dry cleaning, or school papers."
Jane explained how she'd spent the weekend. Shelley, flipping through the contract one last time, paid very little attention except to mutter, "Good for you, Jane."
When they reached the restaurant, Shelley said, "Let me order for both of us. I know what you always get. Start reading."
Jane had known Shelley most of her adult life and knew when it was possible to object to her bossiness. This wasn't one of those times.
She applied herself as diligently as she could and hoped she could finish before they were through eating so Shelley could pay their bill while she tried once again to reach Mel.
It wasn't to be. Shelley finished eating first, continually warning Jane not to spill anything on the contract.
"What would it matter?" Jane said, slightly snippily. "You can always print out a fresh one."
"I want to show Bitsy what a well-done, well-presented contract should look like without sticky bun icing smeared on it. And I don't want to go back home to print a new one. Aren't you through yet?"
"With the contract or my breakfast?"
"Both."
Jane sighed, looking longingly at her now-cold second waffle. "I guess I am. Let's go."
When they'd almost reached the construction site, Jane asked, "Do you think they got rid of the smell? I don't want to go in if they haven't."
"We'll see. I'm determined to get Bitsy away from Sandra anyway. We might just ask her to come outside to talk."
"Are you going to make her read the contract right there in front of you?"
"No. That would be tacky."
"It wasn't tacky when you did it to me," Jane said, showing off, as she spoke, how well she could parallel-park on a busy street.
"I'll give her the contract, pointing out, naturally, how unprofessional hers was. I'll bet you anything Sandra drew it up. Anyway, I'm men going to rat on Sandra about the measured drawings. Just so you know what to expect."
They found Sandra and Bitsy in the end of the upstairs part of the house that was being completed first. Everybody was relieved that the horrible odor was gone. Today two people were starting the Sheetrock. One was obviously a real,
genuine male. Everyone watched as he picked up an eight-by-four-foot sheet as if it were no heavier than a piece of paper and heaved it precisely into place.
He turned around and Bitsy said, "Ladies, meet Carl Stringfield. Isn't he a wonder?"
"He is," Jane and Shelley said at the same time.
Bitsy told him their names and what they'd be doing as if it were already sorted out and a done deal. "And this is Ev," she said as a lithe young woman with dark curly hair entered the room.
"Bitsy, I've asked you not to call me Ev several times. My name is Evaline Berman. Evaline. Got it? Or Ms. Berman. And who are you ladies?" Her expression of discontent suddenly disappeared as she spotted the newcomers.
"Shelley Nowack and Jane Jeffry," Shelley said, shaking hands with Evaline. "We're thinking of being the decorators." There was the barest hint of emphasis on the word "thinking."
"Evaline is the mud person," Bitsy said with a titter. "Isn't that what you call it, usually?"
"That's what Carl calls it. I call it joint cement."
"She's also an inventor," Bitsy continued. "She has a special sort of joint cement that she's patenting. Dries so fast you wouldn't believe it. Sands easily and most often doesn't even require a second coat."
Jane remembered having the garage Sheet-rocked. It took days to dry and made the most awful mess when it was patched and sanded.
White powder seeped into virtually everything in her whole house. "That's very impressive," Jane admitted.
Shelley was trying to get Bitsy away. Sandra was roaming around straightening up tools and debris. She wasn't nearly as well dressed today. She had on designer jeans with a nice scoop-neck T-shirt with satiny trim at the throat, but with the usual high heels and the usual purse practically a part of her body.
Shelley finally succeeded in dragging Bitsy off and made a gesture for Jane to follow. But as Jane started to do so, Evaline said, "Could I have a word with you?"
"Sure." Jane was relieved to have an excuse not to be there for the slaughter.
"This is kind of silly of me, but I've asked for half an hour off this morning to go and sign the patent application," Evaline said. "I'd like it to be a bit of a celebration, but I've only recently moved here and don't have anybody I know to be a witness. The attorney's office is just a block or two away. Will you go with me?"
"I can't tell you how happy that would make me," Jane said. Shelley would have a fit, but then again, Shelley might be on such a roll that she wouldn't even notice Jane wasn't there.
Jane reconnoitered. Shelley and Bitsy were in the dining room on the first floor. As she passed, she said, "I'll be right back. Evaline needs some help."
"Wait…" Shelley's voice faded away as Jane fled. Evaline drove them in her pickup truck, which was spotless.
It was a joy to see Evaline signing her application. She literally glowed with pride and satisfaction. Jane used her best handwriting and the fountain pen Katie had given her last Christmas. The women hugged when the signing was done. Evaline made a move to hug the attorney as well, but he staved her off with a hearty handshake
and a promise to let her know when he heard back from the patent office.
As they started back to the construction site, Evaline said, "That was good of you. I hope it goes okay. There are a lot of other people trying to do what I've done. But I think I have the best formula I know of. I've checked out all the others that are currently on the market. They do dry faster than they used to and the texture is finer than before. But unless luck is against me, I'll be the first to be able to market mine."
"Let me give you my address and telephone number," Jane said, pulling out her checkbook and tearing off a deposit slip. "I've always thought that if I got a real business card, I'd have it designed to make it look like a deposit slip."
Evaline laughed out loud, then said, "Could I ask one more favor? I'm almost out of something I need for the next batch of joint cement. It's from the grocery store. It would take me only a second."
It was less than five minutes, and Evaline had
whatever it was wrapped in a large, apparently heavy paper bag that was sealed closed with strong tape. "Don't mean to be secretive with you, but the attorney warned me to be very careful no one else in the world knows what's in this mix."
"That's good advice," Jane replied. "I'm surprised at how comfortable it is to ride in this truck. I'm thinking of getting a new vehicle to replace my elderly station wagon. What I most want is something with good shock absorbers. I always feel like a pea being rattled around in a can in what I've got."
Evaline started the engine and said, "This is the greatest thing I've ever had, and I'll have to keep it in good running condition forever."
As they were pulling out of the grocery store parking lot, another car behind them turned the other way. "Isn't that Sandra?" Jane asked.
"Might be," Evaline said, glancing at the rearview mirror. "I think her car is a darker blue. But about a million people have a car like that. Come to think of it, half a million have a truck exactly like mine. The first day I parked this baby," she said, patting the front dash, "I came back out and got in the wrong one and said to myself, 'Who in the hell left this crummy coffee cup in my brand-new truck?' before I realized it wasn't mine. That's why I have that tinsel bow on the hood ornament."
The House of Seven Mabels jj-13 Page 5
