War and Peas

shock Jumper. We don’t want to help him spread a rumor.”
    Shelley set up lunch with Sharlene while Jane went back to work, and they all met at the front door of the museum a little after noon.
    “This is so nice of you two,“ Sharlene said. “Not at all. You deserve a treat,“ Shelley said. “This has been a tough week.”
    Shelley had made reservations at a very nice Italian restaurant a few blocks away that was run by a friend of her husband’s, so they were ushered to the best table as if they were royalty. Sharlene wanted to know what everything on the menu meant, and the young waiter, who was goggle-eyed at her lush, if somewhat unusual, beauty, was more than happy to oblige her. They finally settled on their orders and Sharlene asked them how they were coming along on the database project.
    Surprisingly, for all the revelations of the morning, Jane had managed to get a lot of information entered and reported her progress. “But do you have any idea how many thousands of individual ‘things’ the museum has?“ Jane asked. “If it’s just Shelley and me, it’ll take us months and months to even start making a dent.”
    Sharlene nodded. “Next week we’ll have lots more help. When school starts, more volunteers will come on. At least they’ve said they will.”
    They fell into a discussion of volunteer work in general and the difficulties institutions were having now that so many women, even those with young children, were joining the work force. Shelley fidgeted, anxious to get to the object of this luncheon. Sharlene finally gave her an opening.
    “ ... and in the summer, a lot of teachers help us out. And often take on a year-round role when they retire.“
    “Babs McDonald was a teacher, wasn’t she?“ Shelley asked.
    “Yes, a college history professor,“ Sharlene said. “She even wrote a couple of textbooks. But I don’t think she ever considered teaching as a full-time job. She didn’t have to. She comes from a lot of money, I hear, and the research and writing were her main interests. At least that’s the impression I’ve always had.“
    “She’s a remarkable woman,“ Jane said. “Is she married?“ Shelley asked.
    “No. Widowed. A long, long time ago. It’s a tragic story.“
    “Oh?“ Jane said encouragingly.
    The waiter brought their salads and Jane was afraid the food might steer the conversation away from Babs, but after tasting and raving about the salad, Sharlene returned to the subject without any prodding. “She was married during World War Two. A whirlwind courtship, I imagine, with her young man going off to war. Anyway, they were married only three days or sowhen he left. And he was gone for a whole year. When he came home on leave for a couple days, some friends of theirs threw a big party for them. Sort of a delayed wedding shower, I think. And on the way home their car went off the road and her husband was killed. Babs was pretty badly hurt, too.“
    “How horrible!“ Jane said, thinking this didn’t at all match Derek’s version. “Was that her only marriage?“ Maybe it was another husband he’d referred to.
    “Oh, yes. She must have loved him so much she could never love another man,“ Sharlene said, her enormous blue eyes misting romantically.
    They ate in respectful silence for a few minutes before Shelley asked, “How do you know about this? Did Babs tell you herself?“
    “Oh, no! I’d never ask her about anything so personal and painful. She never mentions her husband. No, I found an article about it when I was cataloging some of our old newspapers a couple years ago. I made a copy of it, just because it had to do with someone associated with the museum, but I never said anything to her about it.”
    Their lunch arrived with a flourish. Lasagna for Shelley, eggplant parmigiana for Jane, and fettuccine Alfredo for Sharlene. They concentrated on eating for a while, until Shelley said with elaborate casualness, “I wonder if anyone else at the museum knows.“
    “Knows what?“ Sharlene asked, nibbling on a piece of garlic bread.
    “About Babs’s marriage.”
    Sharlene considered. “Miss Daisy knew—she was friends with Babs since they were girls—and so I imagine Ms. Palmer knew. She was close to both of them. And probably Tom, just because he knows everything.“
    “What about the others?“ Jane asked. “Like Derek Delano?“
    “Oh, I don’t think so. How would he? Babs was never very friendly toward him. She surely