Q Is for Quarry

suffer the consequences later when I was by myself again. Okay. I picked up the two mugs, my gaze fixed on the coffee as I walked. I really didn't spill that much and the rug was so gross it wouldn't show, anyway.
    Once in my office, I placed both mugs on the desk and let her claim hers for herself. I took my seat again and reached for my mug, sliding it toward me across the desk. I wondered briefly if I could just lean down and slurp instead of lifting it to my lips. "Can I ask you something?"
    "Of course you can, sweetie. What do you want to know?" Sweetie.
    Oh dear. Here came the tears, but I blinked them back. Susanna didn't seem to notice. I cleared my throat and said, "Liza mentioned nephews the first time we met, but that's the last I've heard of them. Arne told me Grand had three sons, all stillborn, but wasn't there a boy who died in infancy? I thought Liza made reference to that."
    She made that dismissive gesture so familiar to me. I'd used it myself and so had my cousin Liza on the day we met. "She never gets that right. Really, family history isn't her strong suit. Technically, it's true. Mother had three boys before Rita was born. The first two were still-births. The third lived five hours. All the other boys in the family – nine nephews – are part of the outer circle. Maura's husband, Walter, has two sisters, and they both have boys. And my husband, John, has three brothers, with seven boys among them. I know it's confusing, but since most of those peripheral family members also live in Lompoc, they're included in all the Kinsey gatherings. Grand doesn't like to share us with our husbands' families, so at Thanksgiving and Christmas she makes sure her doors are open and the celebrations are so lavish no one can resist. What else do you want to know? Ask me anything you like. That's why I'm here."
    I thought for a moment, wondering how far I dared go. "I've been told you and Aunt Maura disapproved of my mother." The topic made me feel mean, but that was easier than feeling frail.
    "That was Maura and Sarah, both of whom were older than me. Maura was twelve and Sarah fifteen when the ‘war broke out,' for lack of a better term. Both sided with Grand. I was the baby in the family so I could get away with anything. I just pretended I didn't know what was going on. I always adored your mother. She was so stylish and exotic. I think I mentioned I was nine when she made her debut. I was always more concerned about my Mary Janes than the larger family issues. I like to think I'm independent, but I'm not the maverick your mother was. She took Grand head on. She never shied away from confrontation. I use diversionary tactics myself – charm, misdirection. For me, it's more effective to conform on the surface and do as I please when I'm outside Grand's presence. It might be cowardice on my part, but it makes life easier on everyone, or that's what I tell myself."
    "But why did Sarah and Maura object to my mother's marriage? What business was it of theirs?"
    "Well, none. It really wasn't the marriage so much as what that did to the family. Once the battle lines were drawn, Grand was unyielding, and neither your mother nor Virginia would give in."
    "But what was that about? I still don't get it. It's not as if my father was a bum."
    "I don't think Grand had any personal objections to your father. She saw the age difference as a problem. He was what, thirty-five years old to your mother's eighteen?"
    "Thirty-three," I said.
    Susanna shrugged. "Fifteen years. That really doesn't seem like much. I think Grand's problem was Rita's marrying on impulse. Grand did that, too – married Daddy on a whim the day she turned seventeen. He was twice her age, and I think they'd known each other less than a month. I suspect she may have regretted her haste, but divorce wasn't an option in those days, at least for her. She never likes having to admit she's wrong so she stuck it out. They were devoted to each other, but I'm not sure how long her infatuation survived. I know it's an old story, but I suspect Grand was hoping to express an unlived part of her life through Rita."
    "I can understand that. What you're saying makes sense."
    "What is it that bothers you? That's part of what I'd like to address."
    "I'm thirty-six years old... thirty-seven in three weeks. I've lived all my life without a clue about this stuff. From my perspective, it sure seems like somebody could have let me know. I've said this before to Tasha and I