A Quiche Before Dying

realize.
    “He’s having a great time. Mother, you know his trip was planned before I knew you were coming this week. I’d have changed it if I could.“
    “No, no. I wouldn’t want anybody’s schedule altered. And Mike? Are he and his friend Scott having a wonderful time looking at colleges?“ If Michael Grant had a gift for languages, Cecily had cornered the world market on remembering people and their names. Jane could hardly keep track of her kids’ friends, but her mother remembered all of them.
    “Wonderful, but terrifying to me. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want him to know that.“
    “Of course you don’t, darling,“ Cecily said, taking her daughter’s hands in her own cool, well-manicured ones. “You’re not worried about the cost, are you?“
    “Not too much. You know I put all Steve’s life insurance money into trusts for the kids. Then I get a third of the Jeffry family pharmacies’ profits. I put half of that into the trusts and live on the rest. As long as the kids stay away from the ultraexpensive places like Stanford and Northwestern, I can probably afford it. The only thing I resent is that there isn’t enough for any extras.“
    “You know we’d be happy to help.“
    “I know, Mom. So would Thelma, but I want to do it myself.“
    “How is ‘dear’ Thelma?“
    “As awful as ever,“ Jane answered. Cecily laughed.
    “Still trying to steal the children,“ Jane went on. “There are days I’m tempted to let her. Good news, though. Dixie Lee is pregnant, and she’s an even more unsuitable daughter-in-law than I am. Thelma’s gearing up for a new grandchild to spoil and bribe. Poor Dixie Lee.“
    “Is Katie home?“
    “No, she’s working at the pool this afternoon.“
    “What fun this is going to be, just the three of us girls.”
    They were still standing in the kitchen doorway, and a pair of cats suddenly shot between their legs. “Where’s the cowardly lion?“ Cecily asked.
    “Oh, he’s probably identified you as a terrorist who has come to kidnap him and hold him for an enormous ransom. He’s been expecting it for years,“ Jane said. “Willard? Willard!”
    The basement door squeaked open and a wet nose appeared, hesitated for a long, analytical sniff, and was followed slowly by the rest of the dog. He crept cautiously to Cecily, smelled her knees approvingly, and then lovingly leaned against her so hard, she nearly toppled over.
    “Willard!“ Jane exclaimed, shoving him away. “I’ll take your things upstairs, Mom. Help yourself to some coffee if you want. It’s decaf. You better start looking over the class work. The first meeting is tonight. This pile is yours,“ Jane said, patting the stack of manuscripts on the counter.
    When Jane came back downstairs, her mother had poured them both coffee and was sitting at the kitchen table, examining the manuscripts. “I’m so glad you agreed to take this class with me. I see the awful Agnes Pryce is in the class.“
    “You know Mrs. Pryce?“
    “I knew her once, to my sorrow. Portugal, I think. Her husband was involved with the embassy for a mercifully short time. They were both terrible people. Mean-spirited and very superior-acting, without any good reason. He was quite the old lech, as I recall.“
    “Portugal? Was I there?“
    “No, it was a year or so after you got married. Your father and I hosted a party once that they came to. Some poor man spilled champagne on her, and you’d have thought it was the outbreak of world war. She chewed him to little shreds. Fortunately, he was an American or there would have been an international incident over it. I don’t suppose she’s mellowed?“
    “Not that you can tell. She’s on a perpetual campaign to have all children within a hundred-mile radius of Chicago confined to their homes until they’re thirty. Something all the mothers are fighting.”
    Cecily Grant was skimming through the pages of Mrs. Pryce’s book, holding it carefully as if the pages themselves were soiled. “Evil woman. Can you imagine writing down all these stories with pride?“
    “I haven’t looked at it yet,“ Jane said, rummaging in the cabinet for some crackers.
    Cecily was silent for a minute while Jane was setting the crackers on a cookie sheet in the oven for a minute to crisp them up. “Here’s a story about some poor seamstress in Hawaii,“ Cecily said with venom. “Pryce says she fired the woman when she wanted to bring her baby to work because the