Mother Knows Best (A Margie Peterson Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

house.
    “I’m worried about Elsie,” my mother-in-law said as soon as he was out of earshot.
    “Me too,” I confessed. The curious little girl who used to build fairy houses and give me big, gap-toothed smiles seemed to have disappeared, and I didn’t know what to do to bring her back.
    “I’m wondering if the cause is some factor I don’t know about,” she said, looking at me intently with her ice-blue eyes. “How are things between you and Blake?”
    “Fine,” I lied. “But what would our marriage have to do with Elsie drinking from a water bowl?”
    “Stress can cause a lot of issues. I’ve noticed, the last few times we’ve gotten together, that there seems to be some distance between you and my son.” She held up her hands. “I know, I know. I don’t mean to interfere, but sometimes these things are easier to see from the outside,” she said with a sympathetic smile that made me want to tell her exactly what was going on in my marriage. “Do you think that perhaps your job is creating a rift?”
    My job causing a rift? I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, she continued, relieving me of the burden of responding.
    “Marriage troubles can be hard on children. Are you sure you’re giving your husband the support he needs?”
    I closed my mouth before I said something I would regret, clenching my jaw as I nodded. “I appreciate your concern,” I told her, “but I don’t think Elsie’s desire to be treated like a dog has anything to do with our marriage.” I took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. “Now, I hate to run, but I need to get home and get dinner started. Thank you so much for your help.”
    “Anytime,” she said. “Isn’t your mother coming into town this week?”
    Oh, God. With all the excitement, I’d almost forgotten. “She’s supposed to get here tomorrow,” I said. Which meant that I’d have to tidy up and do laundry when I got home. And worse, that I’d be facing a litany of questions about my relationship with Blake.
    Although Blake and I had been apart since I discovered his affair with a (now) dead transvestite, my husband hadn’t wanted to tell anyone what was going on—or not going on—between us. It wasn’t really a shock. On the sin spectrum, he’d been raised to believe being gay fell somewhere between kidnapping nuns and selling your children on the Internet. Not surprisingly, after a childhood of football, soccer, and other appropriately “manly” activities, Blake refused to accept that he was attracted to men and kept telling me he was “working on it.” Which I was still struggling to understand. I mean, how do you “work on” not being attracted to men? Was he planning on shocking himself with an electric cattle prod every time he thought of Ricky Martin?
    And, of more immediate concern, how were we going to keep our current quasi-marital status quiet while my mother was living with us for a week?
    “Margie?” Prue was peering at me with a worried frown.
    “Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking of all the things I have to do before my mother arrives.”
    “If you’d like, I could send Graciela over to help out,” she offered. Graciela was Prudence’s housekeeper. She did an amazing job, as evidenced by the spotless, museum-quality interior of my in-laws’ home, but my own house was in such bad shape right now it would be hard for Graciela to find a surface to clean. Plus, I wasn’t sure we could afford it.
    “Thanks, but I think I’ll be able to manage. Besides,” I said as Nick ran down the hall with Elsie galloping after him on all fours, “the kids can help. Right?”
    Elsie tipped up her heart-shaped face and said, “Woof!”

CHAPTER FIVE
    I t took a few minutes of cajoling to get Elsie to wear her seatbelt, and as we drove through my in-laws’ tony neighborhood, I was glad the van didn’t have operable back windows. I had no desire to roll past Prudence’s neighbors with my daughter’s head hanging