“Hold on a minute,” Mary-Beth said. “I remember overhearing something. Penelope sat at the table next to mine and I’m not sure who else was at her table, but, oh! Liz said something about trying the online dating thing because she didn’t know where to meet anyone.” Mary-Beth leaned forward. “And then someone else said something like, ‘you’ll never meet your one true love on one of those site,’ and then Penelope said something like she had met her one true love but then Pieter came along.”
“I thought Pieter was her one true love?” I asked.
“Pieter was her husband. Didn’t have to be her one true love,” Meme said. “My James was my one true love and my husband but it doesn’t always work out like that.”
“Did she say anything else, Mary-Beth?” I asked.
“Yeah, she said sometimes practicality wins out.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam asked.
“I think it means she found someone with a lot more money,” I said. I turned and looked at Judith hoping she could shed some light on this new revelation. “So what did you talk about on your visits when you went out to dinner?” I asked.
“Just a minute, Alex,” my mother interrupted. “I want to get the cheesecake and more coffee.”
I got up and went into the kitchen to heat up some more hot water for tea, and my sister followed right behind me.
“Her husband dies and she goes right out and tries to find a new guy,” Sam said, leaning against the counter and munching on a carrot.
“Don’t judge. She was probably just extremely lonely and besides, we only have Judith’s word for all of this,” I said in a hushed tone.
Sam lowered her voice as well. “What does that mean? Judith’s word. You make it sound as if Judith’s word isn’t good enough. Oh, wait a minute. Alex…”
“It’s nothing,” I whispered. “I meant nothing by it. I just want to ask Judith a few more questions about Penelope’s relationship with her husband. If she married him for money maybe they weren’t happy.” I tried to switch gears before my sister caught on to my suspicions of Judith.
My mother and Dorothy bustled about getting plates and forks for the dessert. Mary-Beth came into the kitchen and took the cheesecake out of the refrigerator and it was all I could do to keep from sticking my finger in the top and taking a chunk. Mary-Beth had baked a cake big enough for an army and yet I knew there wouldn’t be any left by time she went home.
“I think you’re right, Alex,” my mom said. “I think she was just lonely and the doctor was an attractive man. But I would like to know about her husband.” My mother picked up a tray on which she had placed the napkins, forks, and plates and took them all into the living room. Mary-Beth followed with the cake and Dorothy carried the coffee pot.
“Does anyone know if any of the women at your house last night was related to the doctor?” Sam asked.
“Why?” I asked, giving my sister a questioning look.
“Because if they knew Penelope tried to get her hooks into the man, maybe they decided to put an end to it right then and there. Or…”
“What? What?” I asked again, turning to my sister and putting a hand on my hip. I knew what was going to come out of that crazy mouth of hers—exactly what I had been thinking.
“Well, you know, Judith is a widow as well and she hardly ever dates from what Millie tells us. And she just said Doctor Katz is a hunk. Maybe she had her sights on the good doctor.”
“You’re talking about Millie’s mother,” I whispered to my sister. Hearing accusations against Judith out of someone else’s mouth bothered me. It couldn’t be Judith. I said a silent prayer to whichever saint held reign over such things. “And she said he was attractive not a hunk. What the heck is the matter with you? Honest to God.” I poured some boiling water into my mug and turned to go.
My sister grabbed hold of my arm, making me slosh water onto the kitchen floor. “Just keep an eye on Judith and keep her away from the cutlery.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And you’re cleaning that up,” I said, eyeing the water on the floor. I turned and returned to the living room and God help me I took a quick glance to make sure Judith was nowhere near the knife.
“So where was I? Oh, yes,” Judith started. “You wanted to know what we talked about.” Judith put the bit of cheesecake sitting on her fork into her mouth and then put the plate and fork on the coffee table before continuing.
“The thing I remember about that day was how lovely Penelope looked. Her clothes were always fantastic, very stylish and different somehow. I felt like a frump whenever we went out just by comparison. Then she told me several times a year she went to Europe and bought most of her things there.”
“She went all the way to Europe to buy clothes?” Meme asked. My grandmother turned to Frances. “Do you go home to Europe to buy your clothes?”
Frances smiled. “I haven’t been home in many years now, Meme. All my family is gone. But even before they all passed away, I never had the money for such a thing. If I could afford the plane ticket then that was all I could afford. Clothes are very costly in Europe, especially the nice ones, and from the way Penelope looked last night I think she had expensive taste in clothing.”
“Expensive shoes, too,” my sister chimed in. “And why she wore them on such a rainy night, I have no idea.” My sister shook her head like Penelope had committed the worst of sins by wearing such expensive shoes in the rain.
“Maybe she had lots of pairs and they weren’t even her good ones,” Meme added.
I took notes and wrote down
expensive tastes in clothes and shoes
. I also wrote down Judith seemed just a teensy bit envious of Penelope’s fashion sense. I didn’t know if the expensive clothes meant anything, but I considered everything important at this point. “This is good,” I said looking around the room. “Judith, so what else do you remember about your first meeting?”
“Well, let’s see. Actually, Penelope did most of the talking as I recall. Of course I knew she was a widow and told her we had that in common. She asked if I had ever remarried or if I dated a lot.” Judith started laughing. “Dating. Geesh. When did I have time? I became a widow at a very young age and with working and taking care of Millie, dating never entered the equation. And then we moved in with your grandmother,” Judith continued turning toward Millie, “and things got easier.”
“That’s when you started dating, oh, what was his name?” Milled mused. “Oh, right. Sheldon.”
“Sheldon,” Judith sighed in mock swooning mode. “He was a good guy.”
Millie made a face. “He had wild hair. Like an aborigine. And his eyes were crossed and he wore these big eyeglasses.” Millie made circles with her thumbs and index fingers and put them up to her eyes, and looked around the room. “And he lived for anything science fiction. That’s all he read and then of course he wanted to tell me all about it.” Millie moaned.
Judith looked at her daughter. “He wasn’t your father and you weren’t going to like him no matter what. He was a nice man and he tried hard to be good to us.”
“Then why did you break up with him?” Millie asked.
“Because he wasn’t your father.” Judith said this last bit softly. “I guess for some of us there’s only ever going to be one man.”
The room went silent and Millie reached over and gave her mother a hug.
My grandmother reached across and patted Judith on the shoulder. “I understand. Me and my James separated years before he died, but he still came over most nights for dinner.”
“He just wanted you to do his laundry,” my mother said none too kindly.
“He was your father, Mable. We had our differences but I loved him till the day he died and he loved me just as much. And he loved you.”
I knew about my mother’s distaste for the way my grandfather had treated Meme, but whatever their relationship, it seemed to have worked for them. And even though my mother was grown by the time my grandparents separated it had always left a bitter taste in her mouth. I could feel an argument about to erupt from my mother’s lips so I quickly changed the subject.
“Mary-Beth you outdid yourself once again with this cake and I think I need another piece. Anyone else?” I asked brightly.
Sam was by my side in a shot cutting her third piece if anyone was counting.
After everyone had been sated with more cake and hot drinks, my mother threw some wood in the fireplace. The wind picked up outside and then the rain started.
“Not again,” Sam groaned. “I hope Michael and the kids are okay.” My sister got up and peeked out the curtains at the rain as it splattered against the glass.
“They’ll be fine, dear,” my mother said. “Your father planned to take them all out afterward for dessert and they’re probably sitting somewhere nice and warm and stuffing themselves as we speak.”
“So what else, Judith, do you remember about Penelope?” I asked. We hadn’t gotten very far, what with all the eating and getting off track, but somehow this always seems to be what happens when you get a group of people together—especially women.
“From what I could tell, Penelope seemed very happy with her husband, Pieter, and she was just grief stricken when he died. So even if she married him for money at the beginning, which we don’t know is true, I think she truly grew to love him. He had been sick for a while and his death was imminent, I think, but I got the feeling she just didn’t want to accept it.”
“Did she work?” Dorothy asked. “I mean did she work now after his death? A job would have certainly helped keep her mind occupied.”
Judith pulled a blanket from the shelf under the coffee table and put it on her lap. “She worked when she first met Pieter. As a matter of fact, that’s how they met. They were both lawyers for an international law firm. Penelope worked for the headquarters in New York and then got transferred to the Amsterdam office. Pieter was a partner there.”
“Did they have children?” my mother asked.
Judith shook her head. “No. She never mentioned children to me. Oh, now wait a minute. No, I’m pretty sure she didn’t have any children but I think Pieter had a couple from a previous marriage. She buried him here and if I remember correctly his children felt unhappy about that but Penelope said she wanted to be able to visit him at the cemetery.”
I looked around the room. “What about everyone else? We all had a chance to talk to her or at least be at the same table with her at some point last night. What else? Anybody?”
“I think we can conclude she had money,” Mary-Beth said as she tried to stifle a yawn. “She wasn’t working and she went to buy her clothes in Europe.”
“But didn’t Bert say she refused to pay her bill for the kitchen remodel?”
My mother nodded her head. “That’s right, Alex. Maybe she didn’t have as much money as we all seem to think she did.”
“Or maybe Bert just did bad work and she didn’t want to pay for his mess,” Meme added.
I made a mental note to check on other clients of Bert’s to see what they thought of his work and maybe I could even get into Penelope’s house and take a look for myself at what she wasn’t willing to pay for.
“She was on the make for a new man in her life,” my sister added. “And it didn’t seem to matter to her if the new man was married or not. Maybe it was more about finding someone with money and not necessarily romance.”
“Good point, Sam,” I said. “I think I’m going to have to look into the woman’s finances.” Of course, how I planned to do it exactly, I didn’t know.
“Well, I don’t know if I would go that far,” Judith said looking at Sam, clearly trying to defend her friend.
“But she threw herself at the doctor,” Meme piped up. “And he was married.”
“Maybe she didn’t know that.” Theresa turned to look at Meme.
“Judith, does the doctor wear a wedding band?” Meme asked.
“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure he does.”
Meme turned back to Theresa. “There.”
“What about her life before she moved to Amsterdam and why did she and Pieter move back here to the United States when they both seemed to have wonderful careers in Europe?” I asked.
Judith shook her head. “It’s funny, but I don’t really know anything about her life before Pieter. She only talked about him. And she never said anything about why they moved here.”
A thought began to take hold in my head. I reached over and placed my tea mug on the coffee table and looked around the room. “You know, I think we’re going about this the wrong way.”
“What do you mean, Alex?” Mary-Beth asked as she poured herself a bit more coffee and then added two teaspoons of sugar.
“We’ve found out a few things about Penelope, and it’s a good start, but maybe we need to find out a bit more about the four women who aren’t here tonight. They’re the ones we should be concentrating on after all.”
“That’s true,” my sister said. “One of them must have killed her.”
Everyone looked around and nodded in agreement.
“Well,” my mother said standing up and grabbing the coffee pot, “it’s going to be a long night. Again. I guess I better make some more coffee.”
I lay back in my bed in my old room at my parents’ house and listened to the gentle breathing of Henry, who slept soundly in a sleeping bag next to my bed. Everyone had left over an hour ago but Henry insisted on spending the night once he heard I planned to do the same.
I rolled onto my side and looked over the edge of the bed. Henry slept on his back, his little head turned to the right. I reached down and gently stroked my fingers across the skin of his cheek. Henry was in motion pretty much all day but once his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. He had been a good sleeper from the first night my sister brought him home from the hospital, getting an average of ten hours a night. I guess he needed a ton of rest to get ready for the next day’s assault on life.
I moved my fingers up and gently pushed a strand of his dark hair out of his face. My sister always kept his thick hair cut fairly short but about seven months ago he decided he liked it longer. I liked the shorter style but Henry loved this new look and there was just no getting him to cut it.