Star Spangled Murder
Page 22
It was a frightening picture. “I never thought of that.”
“Well, trust me, Mother Nature did. She gave you a fabulous immune system to protect the Good Body.” That’s how Pam pronounced it, with capital letter emphasis. “Your immune system worries about the germs so you don’t have to.”
“If that’s true, how come so many people get sick?”
“People get sick because they abuse their bodies. They pollute their Good Bodies with empty calories and preservatives instead of natural whole foods, they don’t get enough sleep, they don’t take care of themselves.” Pam huffed. “You have to help Mother Nature. She can’t do it all, you know.”
“Okay. How do I help her?”
“One thing you can do is take vitamin C. It gives the immune system a boost. That’s what I’d do if I were you, especially since you’re going into a new environment that might stress your organic equilibrium.”
Lucy was picturing a dusty brown bottle in the back of the medicine cabinet. “You know, I think I’ve got some. Now I just have to remember to take it. It looks like we’re going to be pretty busy with this makeover.”
“Don’t let them go crazy with eye shadow and stuff,” advised Pam.
“Is it bad for you?”
“It’s probably a germ farm, especially if they use it on more than one person, but that isn’t what I was thinking about.” She paused, choosing her words. “You’re beautiful already. You don’t need that stuff.”
“Why, thanks, Pam,” said Lucy, surprised at the compliment.
“I mean it. Beauty comes from inside. It doesn’t come from lipstick and stuff.”
“That’s the way it ought to be,” said Lucy, “but lately I’ve been noticing some wrinkles and gray hairs, and I don’t like them. Maybe they’ll have some ideas that can help.”
“Those things are signs of character. You’ve earned those wrinkles and gray hairs!”
“And the mommy tummy, too, but I’m not crazy about it.”
“Don’t even think about liposuction,” warned Pam, horrified. “Promise?”
“Believe me, it’s not an option,” said Lucy, hearing Bill’s footsteps in the kitchen. “I’ve got to go.”
When she looked up he was standing in the doorway, dressed in his Christmas red plaid flannel shirt and new corduroy pants. He was holding a small box wrapped with a red bow, and her heart sank. “Not another present!”
“It’s something special I picked up for you.”
Lucy couldn’t hide her dismay. “But we’ve spent so much already. We’ll be lucky to get this year’s bills paid off before next Christmas!” She paused, considering. There was no sense in putting it off any longer. “And Elizabeth’s tuition bill came yesterday. Chamberlain College wants sixteen thousand dollars by January 6. That’s ten thousand more than we were expecting to pay. Ten thousand more than we have.”
He sat down next to her on the couch. “It’s not the end of the world, Lucy. She can take a year off and work.”
“At what? There are no good jobs around here.”
“She could work in Boston.”
“She’d be lucky to earn enough to cover her rent! She’d never be able to save.”
Bill sighed. “I know giving the kids college educations is important to you, Lucy, but I don’t see what it did for us. I’m not convinced it really is a good investment—not at these prices.”
Lucy had heard him say the same thing many times, and it always made her angry.
“That’s a cop-out, and you know it. It’s our responsibility as parents to give our kids every opportunity we can.” She sighed. “I admit it doesn’t always work out. Toby hated college; it wasn’t for him. And that’s okay. But Elizabeth’s been doing so well. It makes me sick to think she’ll have to drop out.”
Bill put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out . . . or we won’t. There’s nothing we can do about it right now. Open your present.”
Lucy’s eyes met his, and something inside her began to melt. She reached up and stroked his beard. “You’ve given me too much already.”
“It’s all right, really,” said Bill, placing the little box in her hand. “Trust me.”
“Okay.” Lucy prepared herself to accept another lavish gift, promising herself that she would quietly return it for a refund when she got back from New York. What could it be? A diamond pendant to match the earrings? A gold bangle? What had he gone and done? She set the box in her lap and pulled the ends of the red satin bow. She took a deep breath and lifted the top, then pushed the cotton batting aside.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, discovering a bright red plastic watch wrapped in cellophane. “It’s got lobster hands.”
“That’s because it’s a lobster watch,” said Bill. “They gave them out at the hardware store. Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it,” she said. “I think it makes quite a fashion statement.”
“And it tells time,” said Bill, pulling her close.
Lucy took a second look at the watch. “Was it really free?”
“Absolutely. Positively. Completely.”
“I’ll wear it the whole time I’m away,” said Lucy. “I’ll be counting the minutes until I get home.”
“That’s the idea,” said Bill, nuzzling her neck.
The wrapping paper underneath the tree crinkled and rustled as Libby rolled over. Instinctively, just as they had when they’d briefly shared their bedroom with the newest baby, they held their breaths, afraid she would wake up. They waited until she let out a big doggy sigh and her breathing became deep and regular, then they tiptoed out of the living room.
As they joined Sara and Zoe in the family room, where they were watching a “A Christmas Story,” Lucy resolved to enjoy the few remaining hours of Christmas. She’d have plenty of time on the plane to break the news to Elizabeth and to try to come up with a solution. A ten thousand dollar solution.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Leslie Meier lives with her family in Massachusetts. Her newest Lucy Stone mystery, NEW YEAR’S EVE MURDER, will be published in hardcover in November 2005. Leslie loves to hear from her readers and you may write to her c/o Kensington Publishing. Please include a self-addressed stamped envelope if you wish a response.
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