Death at a Drop-In: Myrtle Clover #5

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine 

There was a jaunty rap at the front door and Myrtle cursed under her breath. "It's Joan. And it looks like I've babysat by plopping the kids in front of the television the whole time." She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed her cane. 

"You did do that," said Miles. "But it was so much better than the alternative. And we didn't even have to boot up your computer." 

Joan looked even jollier than she had when she'd been dropping off Noah. She greeted Myrtle and Miles with a huge smile on her face. Myrtle was surprised to see that she had dimples-she'd never smiled enough for Myrtle to see them. Her mother's demise seemed to put her in an extraordinarily good mood. "How was Noah?" she asked, then spotted him staring with fascination at the television screen. 

Myrtle said quickly, "Oh, we had a great time. Yes. We had snacks and we colored pictures, and I mentioned French to him, and...." She trailed off and winced as Noah continued watching, totally engrossed on the screen without sparing his mother a glance. "We turned on the television. Miles came over and he and I visited while the boys watched a cartoon. I hope that's all right," she finished meekly. 

"It's absolutely fine," said Joan, eyes twinkling behind her thick glasses. She started putting Noah's toys back in the basket she'd brought over. 

"Is it?" asked Myrtle. "For some reason, I'd gotten the impression that Noah was always expanding his intellectual horizons in ways that a cartoon dinosaur couldn't provide." 

The dinosaur on the television appeared to be putting on the wrong outfit every day of the week. If it were snowing outside, he wore a bathing suit. If it were sweltering, he wore a winter coat. Myrtle supposed this could potentially be considered educational. In a very meager way. 

Joan rolled her eyes. "That was Mother's idea. Poor Noah hasn't had a minute of unscheduled time since he was able to sit up by himself. Mother paid for foreign language teachers and music classes and sports coaches. He's probably absorbed in the TV because he's never seen anything like it before." Joan's entire posture changed as she spoke about her mother. She slumped and her shoulders hunched over as if she were trying to hide. 

"How did everything go at your dad's house?" asked Miles. "Is he doing any better?" 

"And is your aunt still there?" asked Myrtle, trying to look sweetly concerned, when in fact she wanted to see if her chances were any better for speaking directly to Lucas." 

"Aunt Hazel is still there, yes. She's going to stay until a couple of days after the funeral to help out. And it went really well, Miles, thanks. Hard, of course, to go through Mother's things, but it went well. Dad kept asking me if I wanted Mother's things and I had to keep turning him down...but that was the only real issue," said Joan. She snorted. "As if Mother and I were the same size. Mother was as skinny as they come. And I..." She motioned to the rolls of fat showing over her sweatpants. 

"Well, I'm sure there are plenty of charities that will love to take her clothes," said Myrtle. 

"Exactly." Joan brooded for a minute, obviously still thinking about her mother. "We were different sizes. We had different temperaments. Different personalities. I don't especially want to have reminders of Mother all over my house. I'm very sorry she's gone," said Joan, not really sounding at all sorry. "But I know the charities will be delighted to have her things. And we got so much done. It will be good for Dad not to have to live around all Mother's things...he'll feel a lot more at peace there." 

Myrtle thought this was an odd way of phrasing it. "Well, you're certainly good to help him out. I know he probably isn't sleeping real well and isn't sure which way is up."