chocolate on the pillow at night…blessed civilization.
He checked his watch. They were meeting back at the house for dinner, which meant, in this weather, he should leave soon. At some point he would get Tony and Gina aside , and pump them for details.
What was there between Gina and Tony, anyway? Something was up. Ian was pretty savvy about these things and he sure had a sense of kissing cousins. Well, that was okay by him. And no messy genetic crap now, if they decided to have babies.
W onder who Tony ' s real parents a re ? He never did look Italian enough for this family.
The cellphone rang and he leapt for it. " Yes? Oh, hi, Mom . I ' ll be there for dinner . No, you don ' t have to come and get me . I can walk . It ' s not that bad . "
He listened for a moment .
" No, I didn ' t know , " he said . " How awful . "
" Fine, we ' ll talk tonight . Love you too . " He turned off the phone and sat down on the bed.
Cancer . W ho would have thought it? The old girl always seemed too tough for any disease to take hold and survive in her rawhide body.
Ian shivered. He knew about disease. Two friends had lived with HIV, fighting it for years only to waste away to nothing. It was horrible. Just like cancer.
Whoa ! T here was a brainwave. Maybe she did herself in. Grandma would never accept losing her dignity. His thoughts were a maelstrom. Oh gawd, would that affect the will? What does suicide do to a will? Or does it just affect insurance? And where the heck did all that money come from, anyway? Surely someone in the family would know.
Ian gazed out the window and frowned. Then he was up on his feet in a flash. His gaze followed a man and a woman dashing across the parking lot to a car. The car was unknown to him, but the woman was vaguely familiar. Good looking too , in a soggy Kim Novak way.
Now that was interesting.
The man glanced over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.
Holy Cats Cannoli, what ' s going on here?
A sly smile spread across Ian ' s face. For if there was one code he lived by, it was this: k nowledge is p ower.
Chapter 8
It was 6:00, cocktail time .
" So I want to set the record straight, " Carla said.
She looked around the room, staring them all in the eyes, one by one. Thanks to those singing lessons—the ones she begged for when she was a child not much older than Nellie—she ' d learned how to hold the attention of an audience while performing.
" Mom ' s passing is not as surprising or as sudden as you may have been thinking to yourselves, " she said. " Mom didn ' t want me to tell you, but… "
She paused to give her words effect, even if she suspected by telling Becki earlier, without asking her to keep it to herself, most of the room was already up to speed.
" …she had cancer. " She raised her glass. " Here ' s to Mom. May she rest in peace. "
The room was quiet. What was wrong with everyone? They looked embarrassed. Becki was staring down at the table. Even Gina wouldn ' t meet her eyes. So they already knew, just as she suspected.
Jerry cleared his throat. " Why didn ' t you tell me before, Carla? And why didn ' t she ? "
Carla went immediately on defense. " You know what she was like, Jerry. Never show a weakness. She only told me a week ago. "
" What kind of cancer? " This, from Linda. " Was it contagious? "
There was a gasp and a chair scuffled against the floor.
" I don ' t know. " Carla heard her voice become strident. " She didn ' t tell me. Some kind of internal thing. I don ' t know. She wasn ' t feeling well. That w as why she had to say something. It couldn ' t have been that far along in that she didn ' t look very sick. All I know is she didn ' t intend to wait it out. No chemo and radiation for her, no sir. " Carla threw her glass of wine back and took a large swallow. She put the glass down and frowned. " Don ' t blame her. Lose your hair and your looks? Better to die, " she said grimly.
" She should have told me, "
He checked his watch. They were meeting back at the house for dinner, which meant, in this weather, he should leave soon. At some point he would get Tony and Gina aside , and pump them for details.
What was there between Gina and Tony, anyway? Something was up. Ian was pretty savvy about these things and he sure had a sense of kissing cousins. Well, that was okay by him. And no messy genetic crap now, if they decided to have babies.
W onder who Tony ' s real parents a re ? He never did look Italian enough for this family.
The cellphone rang and he leapt for it. " Yes? Oh, hi, Mom . I ' ll be there for dinner . No, you don ' t have to come and get me . I can walk . It ' s not that bad . "
He listened for a moment .
" No, I didn ' t know , " he said . " How awful . "
" Fine, we ' ll talk tonight . Love you too . " He turned off the phone and sat down on the bed.
Cancer . W ho would have thought it? The old girl always seemed too tough for any disease to take hold and survive in her rawhide body.
Ian shivered. He knew about disease. Two friends had lived with HIV, fighting it for years only to waste away to nothing. It was horrible. Just like cancer.
Whoa ! T here was a brainwave. Maybe she did herself in. Grandma would never accept losing her dignity. His thoughts were a maelstrom. Oh gawd, would that affect the will? What does suicide do to a will? Or does it just affect insurance? And where the heck did all that money come from, anyway? Surely someone in the family would know.
Ian gazed out the window and frowned. Then he was up on his feet in a flash. His gaze followed a man and a woman dashing across the parking lot to a car. The car was unknown to him, but the woman was vaguely familiar. Good looking too , in a soggy Kim Novak way.
Now that was interesting.
The man glanced over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.
Holy Cats Cannoli, what ' s going on here?
A sly smile spread across Ian ' s face. For if there was one code he lived by, it was this: k nowledge is p ower.
Chapter 8
It was 6:00, cocktail time .
" So I want to set the record straight, " Carla said.
She looked around the room, staring them all in the eyes, one by one. Thanks to those singing lessons—the ones she begged for when she was a child not much older than Nellie—she ' d learned how to hold the attention of an audience while performing.
" Mom ' s passing is not as surprising or as sudden as you may have been thinking to yourselves, " she said. " Mom didn ' t want me to tell you, but… "
She paused to give her words effect, even if she suspected by telling Becki earlier, without asking her to keep it to herself, most of the room was already up to speed.
" …she had cancer. " She raised her glass. " Here ' s to Mom. May she rest in peace. "
The room was quiet. What was wrong with everyone? They looked embarrassed. Becki was staring down at the table. Even Gina wouldn ' t meet her eyes. So they already knew, just as she suspected.
Jerry cleared his throat. " Why didn ' t you tell me before, Carla? And why didn ' t she ? "
Carla went immediately on defense. " You know what she was like, Jerry. Never show a weakness. She only told me a week ago. "
" What kind of cancer? " This, from Linda. " Was it contagious? "
There was a gasp and a chair scuffled against the floor.
" I don ' t know. " Carla heard her voice become strident. " She didn ' t tell me. Some kind of internal thing. I don ' t know. She wasn ' t feeling well. That w as why she had to say something. It couldn ' t have been that far along in that she didn ' t look very sick. All I know is she didn ' t intend to wait it out. No chemo and radiation for her, no sir. " Carla threw her glass of wine back and took a large swallow. She put the glass down and frowned. " Don ' t blame her. Lose your hair and your looks? Better to die, " she said grimly.
" She should have told me, "
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