work. Hooking people up with gigs. What are you doing for me ?” Joking, but of course he wasn’t.
Bruce looked at his son with what Doug took for deep irritation. “My friend Clarence Mahoney will be at the fund-raiser. That’s what I’m doing for you.”
The art project, at least, was quickly settled, and Bruce told Gracie she was “a regular Medici.” Miriam was already eyeing the piece of wood like something she planned to ravish.
There was a small crash from Doug and Zee’s rooms, and a grunt of what sounded like frustration. They ignored it.
“Oh, just think!” Gracie said. “This might turn out to be your best artwork ever, and I thought of it just by happensack!”
Case let out a quick burst of laughter, and Miriam quickly stuck her head into the oven under the pretense of checking the pumpkin. Bruce beamed like Gracie was the cutest thing.
“Just by happensack,” Doug repeated, and managed to keep a straight face. “And of course you’ll pay Miriam for the tiles,” he said, because he knew Miriam wouldn’t say it, and he knew Gracie wouldn’t think of it. “Unless you want it made of snipped up shirts and compost.” He looked at Miriam to see if he’d offendedher, but when she emerged from the oven she was smiling appreciatively.
“Oh, of course. And something extra for the labor. Shall we see what’s keeping Zilla?” There was a horrible scraping sound just then, though, and no one volunteered.
By the time the soup was blended, the orange mess sopped from the counter, the remains served, and the lasagna finishing in the oven, they were all in high spirits. Maybe not Case, but certainly the rest of them. Gracie was more and more talkative with the wine, and Doug and Miriam couldn’t stop giggling. The soup was delicious.
Gracie said, “I’ll have you know we hung that farmhouse painting in the solarium regardless. I realize it’s a bit naïve, Miriam, but it’s innocent , and I like that. I don’t like violent art. And my late husband, as I mentioned, adored it.”
“Good King George,” Bruce said. He was sloshed. “George the Late. George the Infallible.”
Miriam took a big breath and glanced—apologetically, it seemed—at Doug, and then said, “Speaking of things I could be doing with my days. Bruce mentioned there were old filing cabinets—up in the attic? Those must be a burden. Wouldn’t you like help cleaning those out?” Doug’s first inclination was to panic, to kick Miriam under the table, but he supposed it was all right. Zee wasn’t there to hear, and Case didn’t care, and Bruce’s presence might force Gracie’s hand. “I mean, I want to earn my keep.”
Gracie didn’t look at Bruce at all, just blinked at Miriam. She said, “I can’t help but think it’s a shame you never had braces, Miriam. It really does mark a person. I always say, if you want to know someone’s lot in life, look at the teeth.”
—
Zee returned to the kitchen as the main course was served, and there was something about her smile, her slow pace, that madeher look like a drunk trying to walk a straight line. She kissed her mother’s cheek, and Miriam scrambled for another place setting.
Gracie was going off about the Internet, and Zee joined the group of baffled, nodding heads. “What’s so horrifying is they can just put your name on there, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Gracie said. “Even for the phone book they have to have your permission! And correct me if I’m wrong, but I have the impression they can even show photographs. I don’t know if you need a special computer to get them, but just think! Miriam, have you seen this? In your work with the computers?”
Miriam protested that she was a technophobe in disguise, and Doug could practically hear the creak of Zee’s eyes rolling beside him. “Some of my planning is on the computer,” Miriam said, “but then it’s all hand work.”
“Tell them about the secrets!” Bruce said. “All
Bruce looked at his son with what Doug took for deep irritation. “My friend Clarence Mahoney will be at the fund-raiser. That’s what I’m doing for you.”
The art project, at least, was quickly settled, and Bruce told Gracie she was “a regular Medici.” Miriam was already eyeing the piece of wood like something she planned to ravish.
There was a small crash from Doug and Zee’s rooms, and a grunt of what sounded like frustration. They ignored it.
“Oh, just think!” Gracie said. “This might turn out to be your best artwork ever, and I thought of it just by happensack!”
Case let out a quick burst of laughter, and Miriam quickly stuck her head into the oven under the pretense of checking the pumpkin. Bruce beamed like Gracie was the cutest thing.
“Just by happensack,” Doug repeated, and managed to keep a straight face. “And of course you’ll pay Miriam for the tiles,” he said, because he knew Miriam wouldn’t say it, and he knew Gracie wouldn’t think of it. “Unless you want it made of snipped up shirts and compost.” He looked at Miriam to see if he’d offendedher, but when she emerged from the oven she was smiling appreciatively.
“Oh, of course. And something extra for the labor. Shall we see what’s keeping Zilla?” There was a horrible scraping sound just then, though, and no one volunteered.
By the time the soup was blended, the orange mess sopped from the counter, the remains served, and the lasagna finishing in the oven, they were all in high spirits. Maybe not Case, but certainly the rest of them. Gracie was more and more talkative with the wine, and Doug and Miriam couldn’t stop giggling. The soup was delicious.
Gracie said, “I’ll have you know we hung that farmhouse painting in the solarium regardless. I realize it’s a bit naïve, Miriam, but it’s innocent , and I like that. I don’t like violent art. And my late husband, as I mentioned, adored it.”
“Good King George,” Bruce said. He was sloshed. “George the Late. George the Infallible.”
Miriam took a big breath and glanced—apologetically, it seemed—at Doug, and then said, “Speaking of things I could be doing with my days. Bruce mentioned there were old filing cabinets—up in the attic? Those must be a burden. Wouldn’t you like help cleaning those out?” Doug’s first inclination was to panic, to kick Miriam under the table, but he supposed it was all right. Zee wasn’t there to hear, and Case didn’t care, and Bruce’s presence might force Gracie’s hand. “I mean, I want to earn my keep.”
Gracie didn’t look at Bruce at all, just blinked at Miriam. She said, “I can’t help but think it’s a shame you never had braces, Miriam. It really does mark a person. I always say, if you want to know someone’s lot in life, look at the teeth.”
—
Zee returned to the kitchen as the main course was served, and there was something about her smile, her slow pace, that madeher look like a drunk trying to walk a straight line. She kissed her mother’s cheek, and Miriam scrambled for another place setting.
Gracie was going off about the Internet, and Zee joined the group of baffled, nodding heads. “What’s so horrifying is they can just put your name on there, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Gracie said. “Even for the phone book they have to have your permission! And correct me if I’m wrong, but I have the impression they can even show photographs. I don’t know if you need a special computer to get them, but just think! Miriam, have you seen this? In your work with the computers?”
Miriam protested that she was a technophobe in disguise, and Doug could practically hear the creak of Zee’s eyes rolling beside him. “Some of my planning is on the computer,” Miriam said, “but then it’s all hand work.”
“Tell them about the secrets!” Bruce said. “All
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