you talking to? I don’t see girls here. I didn’t bring my daughter along, and neither did Mrs. Jeffry. Do you, by some freak chance, consider all the talented workers on the job to be girls?“
Joe said, “You’re one of them, aren’t you?“
“One of what?“ Shelley asked innocently.
“One of them feminists.“
“Not until today,“ Shelley said. “Only my own father is entitled to think of me as a girl.“
“I’m right sorry to hear that,“ he groused, turning his back to her and engaging Bitsy in a discussion of replacement workers.
Bitsy, perhaps inspired by Shelley, maybe just coming into her own, or simply having been driven mad by lack of rest, asked, “Why should we do that, Joey boy? Do you find their work unsatisfactory without even looking at it? I’ve hired professionals in their fields. Some of them are women. But if you don’t want to be the contractor for this, so be it.“
Jane and Shelley exchanged a quick glance. Bitsy was really going out on a limb. Contractors who were ready to step in at the drop of a hat weren’t thick on the ground, not even in Chicago. The good ones were all busy with other jobs.
Astonishingly, Joe made an effort to apologize without actually saying the word “sorry.“
“Well, if you—women—feel this way, we ought to get on with looking over what you’ve done so far. And make up a work schedule to get it completed.“
“Very well,“ Bitsy said glacially.
Bitsy and Joe ascended the stairs, Joe letting her go first. Whether out of courtesy or just to see her from behind no one ever knew. Shelley was still so angry she was red in the face. Jane had never seen her this way. “Calm down. He’s just an old fart.“
“Girls! GIRLS!“ Shelley exclaimed.
“Good thing nobody has a blood pressure cuff handy to slap on you,“ Jane said. “Shelley, let’s just walk out of here and never come back.“
Shelley stomped outside ahead of Jane, but instead of going to the car, she sat down on the front steps. “If I’d lived a hundred years ago, I’d need to have a nice lie-down with a cold cloth over my eyes.“
“It’s not a bad idea today,“ Jane said, trying to urge Shelley back onto her feet.
Shelley was back to her normal coloring, and her expression turned serene. “No, we can’t run away. It would look like a flounce. Exactly what the jerk expects of women. I hate to admit this, but Bitsy did a better job on him than I did.“
Jane’s mouth dropped open. She’d never heard Shelley admit this about anyone before.
Sixteen
The police still had most of the ground floor roped off but had allowed the workers to go upstairs to continue their work. Fortunately, the investigators were just tech people, packing up their gear to leave. No sign of Mel.
When Jane and Shelley got upstairs, Henrietta and Jacqueline greeted them and Evaline said in a muffled voice through her face mask, “Hi there, you two.“ She was busy using her sander on some of the Sheetrock joints. It had a small vacuum bag and created almost no dust, but she must have simply been in the habit of wearing the mask to sand, whether she needed it or not.
Wesley, the furnace guy, came up, welded one last piece of ductwork, and said, “As far as I’m concerned, I’m done in here. All I have to do now is turn the furnace on to make sure it’s up and running again. Go ahead and Sheetrock the ceiling if Thomasina’s ready.“
“Not quite. Another hour for the ceiling fixtures,“ a voice boomed behind Jane.
Jane turned and saw a gigantic woman with big hands and big blond hair that looked as if she’d suffered a real electrical shock, though the hair was probably just overbleached and over-permed.
“You must be Thomasina,“ Shelley said. “Or do you prefer Tom?“
“Thomasina, if you don’t mind. Nobody but that idiot contractor ever called me Tom. And you are...?“
They introduced themselves, and she enveloped both their hands in turn in her huge paw.
Joe said, “You’re one of them, aren’t you?“
“One of what?“ Shelley asked innocently.
“One of them feminists.“
“Not until today,“ Shelley said. “Only my own father is entitled to think of me as a girl.“
“I’m right sorry to hear that,“ he groused, turning his back to her and engaging Bitsy in a discussion of replacement workers.
Bitsy, perhaps inspired by Shelley, maybe just coming into her own, or simply having been driven mad by lack of rest, asked, “Why should we do that, Joey boy? Do you find their work unsatisfactory without even looking at it? I’ve hired professionals in their fields. Some of them are women. But if you don’t want to be the contractor for this, so be it.“
Jane and Shelley exchanged a quick glance. Bitsy was really going out on a limb. Contractors who were ready to step in at the drop of a hat weren’t thick on the ground, not even in Chicago. The good ones were all busy with other jobs.
Astonishingly, Joe made an effort to apologize without actually saying the word “sorry.“
“Well, if you—women—feel this way, we ought to get on with looking over what you’ve done so far. And make up a work schedule to get it completed.“
“Very well,“ Bitsy said glacially.
Bitsy and Joe ascended the stairs, Joe letting her go first. Whether out of courtesy or just to see her from behind no one ever knew. Shelley was still so angry she was red in the face. Jane had never seen her this way. “Calm down. He’s just an old fart.“
“Girls! GIRLS!“ Shelley exclaimed.
“Good thing nobody has a blood pressure cuff handy to slap on you,“ Jane said. “Shelley, let’s just walk out of here and never come back.“
Shelley stomped outside ahead of Jane, but instead of going to the car, she sat down on the front steps. “If I’d lived a hundred years ago, I’d need to have a nice lie-down with a cold cloth over my eyes.“
“It’s not a bad idea today,“ Jane said, trying to urge Shelley back onto her feet.
Shelley was back to her normal coloring, and her expression turned serene. “No, we can’t run away. It would look like a flounce. Exactly what the jerk expects of women. I hate to admit this, but Bitsy did a better job on him than I did.“
Jane’s mouth dropped open. She’d never heard Shelley admit this about anyone before.
Sixteen
The police still had most of the ground floor roped off but had allowed the workers to go upstairs to continue their work. Fortunately, the investigators were just tech people, packing up their gear to leave. No sign of Mel.
When Jane and Shelley got upstairs, Henrietta and Jacqueline greeted them and Evaline said in a muffled voice through her face mask, “Hi there, you two.“ She was busy using her sander on some of the Sheetrock joints. It had a small vacuum bag and created almost no dust, but she must have simply been in the habit of wearing the mask to sand, whether she needed it or not.
Wesley, the furnace guy, came up, welded one last piece of ductwork, and said, “As far as I’m concerned, I’m done in here. All I have to do now is turn the furnace on to make sure it’s up and running again. Go ahead and Sheetrock the ceiling if Thomasina’s ready.“
“Not quite. Another hour for the ceiling fixtures,“ a voice boomed behind Jane.
Jane turned and saw a gigantic woman with big hands and big blond hair that looked as if she’d suffered a real electrical shock, though the hair was probably just overbleached and over-permed.
“You must be Thomasina,“ Shelley said. “Or do you prefer Tom?“
“Thomasina, if you don’t mind. Nobody but that idiot contractor ever called me Tom. And you are...?“
They introduced themselves, and she enveloped both their hands in turn in her huge paw.
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