“She was prone to whining about them,” said Jackie.
“Did she suffer from sinusitis or allergies?”
Jackie stuck out her lower lip and gave a palms-up shrug. “Beats me.”
“She suffered from acute motion sickness,” I spoke up. “She took some big honking herbal supplement for it.”
“I take some big honking supplements that Grace saw advertised on TV,” complained Dick Stolee. “What’d you say they’re for, Grace?”
“Shut up, Dick,” she said out the corner of her mouth.
Margi continued her litany. “Do you know if the victim had a deviated septum, nasal polyps, hypertension, or idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura?”
Jackie stared at her. “What?”
“I can get a bloody nose if the air’s too dry,” said George.
“Dick used to have nosebleeds all the time,” Helen piped up. “But I found a cure.”
“Really?” Margi slid to the edge of her seat, looking breathlessly excited at the thought of a new medical breakthrough. “What’d you do?”
“I taped the entertainment section of The Des Moines Register to the glass door that overlooks the deck to remind him to slide the thing open instead of walking into it.”
“Would anyone like to be wowed by my photos?” Bernice waved her camera like a scalper waving concert tickets. “I’ll let you see them for free. If you wait ’til we get home, you might have to fork out $11.95 to see them in an upcoming issue of Iowa Hog and Travel. C’mon, people. I’m offering them to you at a bargain basement price.”
“Ew,” Jackie cooed. “I love a bargain.” She waved her camera at Bernice. “I’ll look at yours if you’ll look at mine.”
The corners of Bernice’s mouth curved into a slow droop. “Let me get this straight. You want me to waste my valuable vacation time poring over pictures that I didn’t take myself ?” She let out a disdainful snort. “I don’t think so.”
The barmaid returned with the drink orders. As she navigated through our maze of chairs, Osmond stood up and caught my eye, then indicated with a bob of his head that he’d like to speak to me privately. “Be back in a jiff,” I said as I popped up.
“I don’t mean to make a pest of myself, Emily,” he said when we’d rounded the bar into a more secluded area, “but have you received any contact information for Solange yet?”
“I set the wheels in motion last night, but I forgot to check at the front desk when we got back, so why don’t I do that right now?”
“I’d sure appreciate it.” He wrung his bony hands. “Truth is, I’ve been on a rollercoaster ever since last night. What’ll I do if I am a father, Emily? What’ll I say? How should I act? What if Solange’s family doesn’t accept me? What if I’m a disappointment to them? It gives me acid indigestion just thinking about it.” He sighed. “But then I look at the other side of the coin, and I think, what happens if I’ve got it all wrong, and I’m not a father? Then I’ll look like a pathetic old fool.” He dropped his head. “A disappointed old fool. I’m kinda looking forward to the thrill of it now. I bet there’s not too many fellas who become first-time fathers at my age.”
Nope. Only the filthy rich ones.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry you’re stuck on the rollercoaster, Osmond, but the last thing you should be obsessing about is whether Solange’s family will accept you or not. Of course they will! And you can quote me on that. Everyone who knows you, loves you. Bernice can’t even manage to say anything ornery about you.” I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “There’s nothing better that could happen to any family than to have you in it.”