A Quiche Before Dying

Grady. Good-bye. No, don’t see me out.”
     

16
     
    “In the middle of the day!“ Jane exclaimed for the fifth time in as many minutes.
    Shelley patted her shoulder and laughed. “Sit down. You’ll get over it.”
    Jane threw herself into one of Shelley’s kitchen chairs and fished around in her purse for the cigarette that provoked the revelation. “Missy and Grady. I can’t believe it,“ she said, puffing furiously once she’d gotten the stale, battered object lighted. She’d been telling herself she was on the very brink of quitting for almost a year.
    “Why not?“ Shelley asked, sitting down across from her.
    “Well, for one thing, she’s a good six inches taller than he is.”
    Shelley laughed. “Jane, it doesn’t matter when you’re horizontal. Height is a purely vertical consideration.“
    “You know what I mean. It’s the middle of the day that really gets me. They’re grown-ups, not horny kids.”
    Shelley reached over and patted her hand. “Jane, you really have been widowed too long. You’re either obsessed with sex or appalled by it.“
    “I’m not appalled. Only hugely surprised. Grady and Missy! I had no idea!”
    “Jane, people sometimes conduct perfectly happy affairs for years without anybody else knowing. Why do you think they should have let you in on it?“
    “Years. My God! The secretary said he always goes home for lunch on Thursdays. Do you suppose...?“ She grinned. “Oh, I hope so. But in the daylight?“
    “Didn’t you ever make love in the daytime?“
    “Oh, sure. But that was Steve,“ Jane said dismissively. “The stretch marks and wrinkles were his fault, so they didn’t bother me. But an affair—an affair is different. I thought you had to have a gorgeous young body for an affair.“
    “There speaks the voice of inexperience,“ Shelley said. “Jane, get your mind out of Grady’s bedroom and think about what this might mean. Do you think maybe Missy was upset on Grady’s behalf about Mrs. Pryce’s accusations? You told me Ruth was madder about the insult to her sister than Naomi herself was. What if it was like that with Missy and Grady?“
    “Missy as a murderer? Impossible.“
    “But it’s no more impossible to imagine than anybody else in the class.“
    “True. Except for Bob Neufield. He hates us, and probably with good cause. We should never have gone over there.“
    “Just like you shouldn’t have gone to Grady’s?“ Shelley asked.
    “Yes. It didn’t stop me, did it? I’ve got to go home and stay out of trouble,“ she said, rising.
    When she got in the house, the first thing she heard was the tapping of her typewriter. Cecily called from the living room, “I’ll give this up if you want to use it.“
    “No. What are you doing?“
    “I just remembered something that happened once that I wanted to jot down for my book. In spite of everything, I’m glad we took this class.”
    Jane almost told her mother that she was thinking about turning Priscilla’s story into a book, but the idea was still too outrageous and fragile to share with anybody but Missy. Not that her mother would denigrate the idea, but there might be a fleeting moment of incredulity in her face, and Jane couldn’t face it. “I’m going to work on my short story upstairs then,“ she said. “Remind me to tell you later what happened to the wine I was going to buy you for dinner.”
    An hour and several pages later, Jane came down to the kitchen to find a snack. The doorbell rang while she was trawling in the refrigerator. She opened the door. “Hi, Jane,“ Missy said. “Are we still speaking?“
    “Oh, Missy, of course we are. Let’s sit outside.”
    Missy threw the green purse down on the patio table and sank into a chair with a sigh. “I’m sorry I caused you to be embarrassed.“
    “Oh, no, Missy. It was my fault, not yours. I had no business at Grady’s.“ Jane picked up the little bamboo birdcage and set it inside the back door, partly because she couldn’t quite meet Missy’s eyes yet.
    “Poor Grady,“ Missy said with a smile. “He’s such a dear conservative prude. You scared the daylights out of him, you know. I told him not to go to the door, but he’s so superresponsible. It drives him nearly crazy when I let a phone ring without answering it.”
    Jane sat down across from her. “Missy—why Grady, if you don’t mind my asking?”
    Missy smiled. “Because he’s a delightful pink teddy bear of a man. More important, I’m a