Silence Of The Hams

got in the truck and sat for a few minutes, petting and caressing various parts of the interior and talking incomprehensible gibberish about the mechanics. Mike turned the key and they both made orgasmic noises as the engine revved to life. Mike hopped back out, gave his mother another hug and smack of a kiss, and asked if she wanted to ride along.
    “No way, thanks. Don’t forget your job.“ The boys roared off and Jane watched until they were out of sight.
    “Want a cup of coffee?“ Shelley asked. Jane sighed. “No, thanks. I believe I’ll just go inside and have a good cry.”

    The old house Sarah Baker and her sister had inherited was spruced up and looking lovely. The clapboards had been repaired and painted a pristine white with shiny black shutters for accent. The old cement walk had been replaced with a wide brick one in an old-fashioned herringbone pattern and had a border of sweet-scented thyme along the edges. A martin house had pink morning glories twining their way up the post. The original wraparound porch at the front and sides had been enclosed with floor-to-ceiling crank-out windows, which were opened today.
    Small white cafe tables for two and chairs with plump floral-patterned cushions were set up on the porch. At the center front of the house itself, one walked into what had once been a front hall, with a parlor and dining room to each side. The area had been opened up, and sparkling glass display cases enclosed an unbelievable array of deli foods. Jane assumed the back rooms of the first floor were kitchens and storage areas. There was no staircase visible, but Jane had heard that the second floor had been kept as living quarters. Conrad and Sarah Baker would be “living above the shop,“ as many small shopkeepers used to.
    The decorating plan was in keeping with the Victorian house—lots of ferns and lush greenery—but everything was white and bright and clean instead of characterized by the dark sobriety that had been fashionable when the house was new. Jane and Shelley had arrived early, but so had many other curious neighbors. Nearly all the little tables on the porch were occupied by people sampling Conrad’s cooking when Jane and Shelley arrived. Conrad, in a chef’s white jacket and hat, greeted them with a tray. “Ladies, how good of you to come!“ he said heartily. “Have a seat or roam around as you like.”
    Conrad was a large, florid-faced man who obviously enjoyed eating as much as cooking. He wasn’t fat, just big and fairly solid-looking, as ex-football players often get in middle age.
    His wife, Sarah, was behind him, passing out plates and silverware. She was a small, thin woman with tiny, delicate features and a mop of curly dark blond hair held back with clear plastic combs. She had a shy, quiet manner, and though she was smiling, she looked as if this sort of mingling was painful.
    Shelley introduced herself and Jane to Sarah Baker, who said softly, “Oh, I remember you from school days, Shelley. And I’ve talked to Jane on the phone a couple times. Thanks for coming. If you’d like to sit down while there’s still a place to, I could bring you some of our special tea, and Conrad will be back around with sandwiches.”
    Jane, whose motto was “Never pass up a chance to sit down,“ took her up on the offer. The tea, when it arrived, was a very nice Earl Grey with the merest hint of a floral scent they couldn’t identify. “I may never cook again,“ Jane said, sampling a cucumber dip Conrad had brought around with tiny sandwiches, some of his homemade potato chips, and a generous serving of cherry crisp.
    “Delicious,“ Shelley said around a mouthful of salmon mousse.
    A tall woman who looked like an elongated version of Sarah Baker stopped at the table. “Shelley, nice to see you,“ she said.
    “Grace Axton, this is my friend Jane Jeffry. Jane is Mike’s mother.“
    “I’m glad to meet anyone who could raise such a great kid,“ Grace said. “We can already tell it’s going to be nearly impossible to replace him when he goes to college in the fall. In his new truck! He’s so proud of it.“
    “Mike’s here?“ Jane asked. In the dark, most motherly recesses of her mind, she’d been half afraid he’d forgotten everything in his thraldom with the vehicle.
    “In the back, helping with cleanup before he starts deliveries. Have you seen the kitchens?“
    “No, we didn’t know we could,“ Shelley replied.
    “Sure. We’re anxious to show