Calamity Town by Ellery Queen

took her hands. ‘Jim has no money of his own, has he?’
    â€˜None except what he earns.’ Pat’s lips tightened. ‘My father spoke to him the other day. About his work. Jim’s neglecting it. You know Pop. Gentle as a lamb. It must have embarrassed him dreadfully. But Jim snapped at him, and poor Pop just blinked and walked away. And have you noticed how my mother’s been looking?’
    â€˜Dazed.’
    â€˜Muth won’t admit anything’s wrong—even to me. Nobody will, nobody. And Nora’s worse than any of them! And the town—Emmy DuPré’s busier than Goebbels! They’re all whispering…I hate them! I hate the town, I hate Jim…’
    Ellery had to put his arms around her.
    Nora planned Thanksgiving with a sort of desperation—a woman trying to hold on to her world as it growled and heaved about her. There were two of Wilcy Gallimard’s fanciest toms, and chestnuts to be grated in absurd quantities, and cranberries from Bald Mountain to be mashed, and turnips and pumpkins and goodies galore…all requiring preparation, fuss, work, with and without Alberta Manaskas’s help…all requiring concentration . And while her house filled with savory odors, Nora would brook no assistance from anyone but Alberta—not Pat, not Hermione, not even old Ludie, who went about muttering for days about ‘these snippy young know-it-all brides.’
    Hermy dabbed at her eyes. ‘It’s the first Thanksgiving since we were married, John, that I haven’t made the family dinner. Nora baby—your table’s so beautiful!’
    â€˜Maybe this time,’ chuckled John F., ‘I won’t have indigestion. Bring on that turkey and stuffing!’
    But Nora shooed them all into the living room—things weren’t quite ready. Jim, a little drawn, but sober, wanted to stay and help. Nora smiled pallidly at him and sent him after the others.
    Mr Queen strolled out to the Haight porch, so he was the first to greet Lola Wright as she came up the walk.
    â€˜Hello,’ said Lola. ‘You bum.’
    â€˜Hello yourself.’
    Lola was wearing the same pair of slacks, the same tight-fitting sweater, the same ribbon in her hair. And from her wry mouth came the same fumes of Scotch. ‘Don’t look at me that way, stranger! I’m invited. Fact. Nora. Family reunion an’ stuff. Kiss and make up. I’m broad-minded. But you’re a bum just the same. How come no see little Lola?’
    â€˜Novel.’
    â€˜Your eye,’ laughed Lola, steadying herself against his arm. ‘No writer works more than a few hours a day, if that. It’s my Snuffy. You’re making love to Pat. ‘Sall right. You could do worse. She’s even got a brain on that swell chassis.’
    â€˜I could do worse, but I’m not doing anything, Lola.’
    â€˜Ah, noble, too. Well, give ’em hell, brother. Excuse me. I’ve got to go jab my family’s sensibilities.’ And Lola walked, carefully, into her sister’s house. Mr Queen waited on the porch a decent interval, and then followed. He came upon a scene of purest gaiety. It took keen eyes to detect the emotional confusion behind Hermy’s sweet smile, and the quivering of John F.’s hand as he accepted a Martini from Jim. Pat forced one on Ellery; so Ellery proposed a toast to ‘a wonderful family,’ at which they all drank grimly.
    Then Nora, all flushed from the kitchen, hustled them into the dining room; and they dutifully exclaimed over the magazine-illustration table…Rosemary Haight holding on to John F.’s arm.
    It happened just as Jim was dishing out second helpings of turkey. Nora was passing her mother’s plate when she gasped, and the full platter fell into her lap. The plate—Nora’s precious Spode—crashed on the floor. Jim gripped the arms of his chair. Nora was on her feet, palms pressed against