“A bit late, if you ask me,” Rob said, sniggering.
“Later,” I said, with the dignity one develops after twenty-five years of ignoring a younger brother. Just then I saw a camera flash several times, and glanced up to see that one of the news photographers was taking pictures of me and Rob against the background of Cousin Ginnie’s new booth. Rob sniggered and struck a more dramatic pose. I winced. Did I really want the Caerphilly Clarion to run a photo of me and Harpo Marx, apparently discussing the relative merits of a leopard-print nightie and a red lace one?
And Cousin Ginnie’s new booth—amazing. The police still had her original booth and its remaining contents locked up with the rest of the yard sale and yet here she was again, with a booth just as large and well-stocked as the original. She was just handing over change to a customer, along with one of the lavender bags Michael had mentioned, with little silver metallic hearts stamped all over it. A rather large bag.
“Meg!” she called cheerfully. “Want to come and try a few things on?”
“Um … maybe later,” I said. “Nice bags.”
“Aren’t they? I did the hearts myself with a rubber stamp. I think they add a nice touch.”
“Very nice,” I said. Also very distinctive. I had seen a lot of them around the sale. Was it prudish or sensible of me to think that if I bought something from her, the first thing I’d do was hide the bag?
“You’d look great in this,” Ginnie said, holding up a piece of black lace that didn’t look large enough to fit a Barbie doll. “It stretches,” she added, seeing my expression.
“No thanks,” I said.
“Don’t wait until all the best stuff is gone!” she exclaimed, waving the wisp of lace at me. “Just the thing to keep that young man of yours interested.” I stifled the impulse to tell her we were doing just fine in that department.
“That reminds me,” I said. “What’s wrong with Morris?”
“Morris? Nothing that I know of. Why?”
“He seems upset; that’s all,” I said.
“I admit, he hasn’t been himself lately,” she said, frowning slightly. “And I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”
“I think he’s upset about your selling off your … clothes.”
“You mean all these fripperies?” she said, waving at the rack to her right. “I told him I was going to.”
“Yes, but I think he sees it as some kind of rejection.”
“Rejection?”
“I was talking to him earlier,” I said. “He was quite morose.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” she said. “I’ve been wondering what was eating him. A couple of months back I had to tell him to please slow down on the fripperies, just until I could clear out space for new stuff.”
“You do have a lot of, um, fripperies,” I said.
“Mercy! I’ve got at least this much more at home,” she said, laughing. “After thirty years, I’ve got closets full of the stuff, and none of it something I can get a lot of day-to-day use out of.”
“So you decided to get rid of some of it.”
“I thought I’d start with the things I can’t even get into anymore,” she said. “After all, I’m not the woman I used to be. I’m more like two of her!”
She laughed again, and patted her rounded stomach in a matter-of-fact way I envied.
“I figure if I clear out the stuff I can’t wear anymore, I can make room for the new stuff. After today, I should be set for another thirty years! Doesn’t he see that?”
“Apparently not,” I said. “He thinks it means that the passion has gone out of your marriage.”
“Good heavens,” she said, shaking her head. “What will I do with him? You can’t imagine how hard it is to change his mind once he gets a notion about something.”
“Actually, I bet I can,” I said, glancing around her booth.
Luckily, a customer came up and gave me a chance to escape before I did something stupid, like offer to talk to Cousin Morris. After all, Michael had already offered to do that.
“Meg!”
I looked up to see Cousin Rosemary waving frantically at me. I had forgotten overnight what I was supposed to be calling her. I waved cheerfully, and pulled out my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe as I strolled over to her table.
“Meg!” she said. “I have some important information.”
“What is it, Rose Noir?” I asked, after sneaking a peek at the notebook.
“It’s about the murder!” she said.
Chapter 26