The Merchant of Menace

you’re here, Jane. I’ve been looking for you. I was afraid you were out looking for him with an Uzi.“
    “None of my Uzis are oiled. Or primed. Whatever. I don’t really know what an Uzi is, come to think of it. But right now I wouldn’t mind acquiring one.”
    Mel entered the room as she was speaking. “Jane, that’s not really funny.”
    “Mel, none of this is funny!”
    He knew when the river of affection was running at full flood the wrong way. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”
    She sighed. It wasn’t his fault. “Is Todd back?”
    Mel nodded. “Yes, all your chicks are home and safe in spite of all the traffic. The street looks like there’s a parade going on with all the gawkers at the Johnsons’ house.”
    She smiled weakly. “And I guess everybody else has left, huh? Think of the leftovers we’ll have. I hadn’t even put the desserts out yet.“
    “No,“ Mel said. “You’ve still got a mob out there.“
    “You’re kidding!“ Jane edged around him and looked into the living room. He was right. “Why don’t they go home while the getting’s good?”
    Shelley spoke up. “Some of them still think it’s a joke. The rest are ghouls. By the way, that woman who lives next door to Suzie asked me what agency you used to hire the Johnsons. She thought they were actors pretending to be hillbillies.”
    Suddenly Jane’s accumulated tension dropped away. She started laughing. There was an edge of hysteria to it. “No, Shelley, don’t get that look,“ she said between giggles. “And don’t get any ideas about slapping me to my senses. I’m okay. It’s just that—”
    She went off again.
    Billy Joe swaggered in from the living room, bumping a bowl of pretzels off an occasional table with his oversized snowman butt. “Wondered where’s you got to, Jane. Oops, sorry.“ He tried to lean over to pick up the pretzels, but with the fat costume, he couldn’t reach the floor.
    Jane rushed over and pulled him back upright. “Never mind, I’ll just sweep them under the table for now.“
    “What are you laughing about?“ he said. “Nothing at all. I’m just happy you’re here. That’s all.”
    Billy Joe looked pleased and deeply embarrassed. “Shucks,“ he mumbled.
    An hour later, Jane was nearly back to normal. Ginger had forced the cameraman and the rest of the crew and equipment outdoors. The crew had left the electrical cords plugged into an outside socket and gone off in their van to have coffee and keep warm at a nearby convenience store.
    Julie had struck out on security guards, but Jane was resolved to simply lock the doors when Lance returned. It was probably just as well that she hadn’t been able to surround her house with armed guards. Imagine what Lance could have made of that. He could have yapped about it on the nightly news for weeks.
    Jane could just imagine the headline: “Suburban housewife barricades house against seeker of truth—what dirty secret is she hiding?“ That was Lance’s style.
    Most of the guests had professed the intention of leaving well before the newscast and kept glancing at their watches. But they were determined not to waste a good party and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the exchange of neighborhood gossip. A couple of the men—and Suzie, naturally—gravitated to the basement where they fooled around with Jane’s computer and talked RAM, ROM, and modem speeds. Jane’s dog Willard had been confined to the basement for the evening and was thrilled to have company. Her cats Max and Meow, who didn’t like strangers in their house, had retreated indignantly to the laundry room.
    A clump of women gathered in the kitchen, picking at the remaining desserts and talking about diets, their jobs, shopping, and, mostly, the atrocities of having the kids home all day for two weeks. One complained bitterly about the Johnsons’ house attracting so much traffic to the block. (The Concerned Citizen, no doubt, Jane thought.) A handful of people who were devotees of It’s a Wonderful Life settled in the living room to watch it for the sixty-seventh time on television. One of the men kept asking if he couldn’t just see if there was a sports channel during a commercial and was hooted down. If it hadn’t been for the threat of Lance King’s return hanging over her, Jane would have judged it a perfect party.
    Julie Newton had finally finished crying and apologizing and was talking to anybody who would listen about the progress of her new kitchen.