up and moved to the window, lifting back the lace sheer. “And here comes Mabel now. Is that broom still handy?”
Episode 2
Vera may be Ruebensville’s answer to Mrs. Kravatz, but Mabel had always reminded Estelle of the mayor’s wife in The Music Man—the Robert Preston version. She didn’t have anything against Matthew Broderick—he was a nice enough young person—but he just wasn’t her idea of Professor Harold Hill.
Mabel moved her officious bulk into Estelle’s living room and lowered herself onto the sofa, crossing her ankles demurely. As the president—and in fact, the founder—of the All Denomination Ladies’ Aid Association, she took herself, her committee, and everyone else far too seriously. At least, that’s what Estelle thought privately and Vera expressed vocally. And often loudly.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Mabel said.
Estelle thought for a minute. She hadn’t even known Mabel was coming—when had she agreed to this meeting? No matter—it was happening, so might as well be gracious about it.
“I appreciate your help,” Mabel went on. “Now, I’ve already contacted the various different congregations with their assignments, and I made them easy to remember. The Christians are bringing the cotton. Get it? They both start with ‘c’?”
Vera coughed into her hand while Estelle nodded politely.
“So the Christians are bringing the cotton, the Baptists are bringing the batting, the Mormons are bringing the munchies, and the Episcopalians are bringing the yarn.”
Estelle blinked. She had been somewhat enjoying Mabel’s alliteration—what happened?
Mabel must have read her mind. “Well, someone had to bring the yarn, and there isn’t a religion that starts with ‘y’. Unless you count ‘yoga’, but I don’t think the yoga studio on Main Street counts.”
A smile tugged on the corners of Vera’s mouth. “Why didn’t you ask the Muslims to bring some muslin?”
“Well, we didn’t really need muslin, and I don’t think there’s a Muslim congregation for miles—oh, you’re teasing me.” Mabel sat up a little straighter. “I don’t know why you take such delight in vexing me.”
“Well, my name does start with ‘v’. Vera is in charge of vexing.”
Mabel turned to Estelle, a pointed ‘I’m going to ignore her now’ look on her face. “Estelle, what time will Sam be home tonight? I wanted to ask for his help in getting all the extra quilting frames out of the community center’s closet.”
Estelle plastered a bright smile on her face. She couldn’t tell Mabel what had happened that morning. Once Mabel caught wind of something, it was spread all over Ruebensville like honey on a biscuit. She considered it her duty to keep everyone informed so they could all watch out for each other, and Estelle appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t think so much enjoyment should go into the retelling of another person’s woes.
“I honestly don’t know,” she said. “It is tax season…” There. She hadn’t been entirely forthcoming, but she hadn’t lied.
“Well, when he gets home, could you ask him if he’ll be available early Saturday morning? He’s the only helpful husband in this guild. You ask the other men to do something, and suddenly they’ve got a golf game with their boss, or they’ve hurt their back, or they’re mowing their lawns.”
“I’ll tell him when I see him.” It might be tonight, it might be tomorrow, it might be in fifteen to twenty, but I’ll tell him.
As Mabel ran more plans past them, Estelle found it harder and harder to concentrate. It’s hard to pretend nothing’s wrong when, in fact, there are a great many things wrong. Not only was her husband being questioned for murder, but she had to call an exterminator. Her neighbors had already seen a police car, and now they’d see an extermination truck.
Wait. A movement caught her eye through the large picture window in the front room, and she tried not to show her surprise on her face. Two uniformed officers were knocking on the door of the house directly across the street. No doubt they were canvassing the neighborhood. She was proud of herself for knowing the word ‘canvassing’. She’d first read it in an L.M. Montgomery book years ago—which one was it? One of the Emily books, she thought. Not that it mattered. But she had been surprised to hear it on an episode of Castle. Such a nice word, one that could be used in so many situations, classic or contemporary…
“She’s doing it again.” Vera’s voice broke into her reverie. “Earth to Estelle…”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”
“See?” Vera turned to Mabel. “I swear it’s early-onset Alzheimer’s. She does that all the time.”
Mabel launched off into a discussion of every person in town who had recently been diagnosed with a similar ailment, and Estelle glanced at her friend. Vera had a decided ‘see who saved your bacon’ look on her face, and Estelle had to admit, she was grateful for the change of subject. From a flick of Vera’s gaze out the window, Estelle knew she’d seen the officers too.
Vera kept Mabel talking until the police were no longer in sight, and then between the two of them, they were able to drop enough hints that Mabel finally announced her imminent departure. She hoisted herself out of the deep sofa cushions and gathered up her purse. “You will have Sam call me?”
“Yes, I certainly will,” Estelle replied.
As soon as the door closed, both Vera and Estelle let out a sigh of relief.
“That was too close,” Vera said. “If she’d seen those policemen, she would have barged right out there and demanded to know what they were doing.”
“Well, I don’t know if she would have done that, but as soon as they left Sally Hunter’s porch, she’d be asking Sally.” Estelle sat down hard as a horrible, terrible thought occurred to her. “But it doesn’t matter. You know why?”
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? It took all my strength and energy to look interested the whole time she was here. I’m exhausted. I need a cookie.”
“In the jar,” Estelle said automatically. “But if the police are questioning all the neighbors…”
“They did Mabel’s job for her,” Vera finished. “Now I need two cookies.”
The phone had not rung. Estelle even pulled out her cell phone and called the house to make sure there was nothing wrong with the landline, and then she called her cell phone with the house phone to make sure T-Mobile wasn’t on the fritz.
Vera had taken a shopping list and Estelle’s debit card and run to the store. Estelle hated that she couldn’t run her own errand, but at the same time, her hands had been shaking so badly off and on since that morning, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted herself behind the wheel of a car. She had written down ‘milk’ and ‘cheese’ on the list, but
