Fear of Frying

make it through.”
    “Right,“ Jane said sarcastically. “Or maybe, since a van is really a big empty box on wheels, it would slide down an embankment into the lake.“
    “Still, I want to take a look at it.”
    Eileen Claypool came into the lodge, looking around. When she spotted Jane and Shelley, she came over to them. “You haven’t seen John, have you?”
    Jane shook her head. “Nope. Is he missing?“
    “Not exactly, I just wanted to tell him about this bridge going out. I don’t like being stranded here. Benson has his staff out trying to hunt down all the local people to get them across the lake before it starts getting dark.”
    Jane was glancing around the dining room. “It’s odd. None of our group seems to be here except for the three of us. Wonder where they all are.“
    “Marge is in her cabin,“ Eileen said. “I just stopped by there.“
    “And Sam?“ Jane asked, barely managing to repress the urge to call him Sam Two.
    “She didn’t know. I thought maybe Sam and John had both come down here.“
    “Let’s have a cup of coffee and see if they turn up,“ Shelley suggested.
    “How’s Sam doing?“ Jane asked when they were seated at one of the dining room tables. By craning her neck, she could see a bunch of people heading for the boat dock. Not one of them looked the least bit happy to be going home by water.
    “Fine, I guess,“ Eileen replied. “Marge said he feels okay physically, not even a headache, and is recovering nicely from the amnesia.“
    “I can’t imagine why he didn’t go home or to a hospital,“ Shelley said. “I certainly would have.“
    “That’s because you don’t have their parents,“ Eileen said, stirring two spoons of sugar into her coffee. “This is the first time in years we’ve all managed to get away from them. Believe me, it’s like being sprung from prison. John and Sam both have to face going back and trying to get that dreadful house fixed up enough to sell it and get them into a nursing home. This is the only break they get before that project, which is going to be hideous.“
    “The parents don’t want to go, I take it,“ Shelley said.
    “God, no! That awful house is literally falling down around them, and they have it on the market for half again as much as it’s worth. They think they’re going to come live with either Sam and Marge or us. They’re wrong! The house is disgusting. The carpeting is thirty-five years old and worn clear down to the backing in spots. The roof leaks buckets every time there’s a mist. The plumbing is unthinkable. They’re... frugal, let us say... about flushing unnecessarily and wasting water.”
    Jane and Shelley shuddered.
    “Sam’s tried to get cleaning people in,“ Eileen went on, “just to make it sanitary before they start their very own cholera outbreak, but the parents are obsessed with people spying on them and won’t let the cleaners in the house. The parents think Marge and I should be full-time maids, nurses, and watchdogs. Fat chance.“
    “Where is this house? Close to you?“
    “Oh, no. It’s in a little town north of us called Spring Oak. So every time we’re summoned to take care of some imaginary crisis, it’s at least an hour round trip.“
    “How awful for all of you,“ Shelley said. “I guess I wouldn’t have given up a precious second of my only vacation either.“
    “In spite of it all, Sam certainly seems to have benefited from this trip,“ Jane said.
    Shelley cast her a warning look, which Jane ignored.
    “Oh, he has,“ Eileen said. “It’s made him a new man.“ She said this without the slightest hint of irony. “Who knows—if he’d gotten away more often these last few years, he might have been a much happier, nicer person.“
    “And Marge seems more content, too,“ Jane said.
    “Content?“ Eileen laughed. “Maybe not the word I’d have used. Hot to trot, I’d have said. When I stopped by there a minute ago, she was in her bathrobe. In the middle of the day! This is not the Marge I know. I think it’s sort of cute. A middle-aged woman going all googly-eyed over her own husband.“
    “What do you suppose made the difference?“ Jane asked.
    Shelley nudged her under the table with her foot. It wasn’t quite a kick.
    Eileen shrugged. “No idea. Just wish it would happen to me.”
    There was a sudden commotion at the door. Liz was using her professional-educator voice, with which she managed, without actually shouting, to penetrate the