“Okay.”
“Janey embraced it,” Lily said. “Big-time. And she was always in trouble with the police and suspended from school. I was surprised she even graduated. But I think she was a lot smarter than she acted.”
Nikki was at the kitchen sink, trying to wipe the smudges from Chloe’s face with a damp paper towel. Chloe was having none of it and wriggled in Nikki’s arms, turning her face this way and that, trying to avoid the dreaded towel. “No, Mommy. No!”
“Yes,” Nikki insisted firmly.
“Anyway, I saw Janey today,” Lily went on as she reached into the cupboard for a wineglass. “At the country club. Good Lord, I barely recognized her. She’s turned into this … this country club Stepford wife. A younger clone of Mavis Greenlee.” Lily eyed her sister. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember Mavis.”
“I know Mavis.” Mavis was a country-club mainstay, a pseudo friend of their mother’s who was also active in their church.
“No!” Chloe insisted.
“Fine.” Nikki tossed the wet towel on the counter and set Chloe onto the floor. The minute her feet touched down, Chloe scrambled off toward the stairs, probably in search of Phee. Mikado, who had been lying in his bed near the fireplace, struggled to his feet and took off after her, his toenails clicking on the hardwood.
Lily was opening the refrigerator door. “Janey’s blond now. Platinum.” She retrieved a bottle of blush-colored wine. “And her makeup is less David Bowie and more Doris Day, if you know what I mean.” She poured herself a glass and held up the bottle. “Want a splash?”
“Sure.” She found a stemmed glass and waited as Lily filled it. “Ooh. That’s enough. Too much.” She took a sip as Lily shoved the cork back into the bottle. “Doris Day?”
“The whole sheer makeup, fresh-faced thing … definitely not the Janey I remember. Anyway, cheers,” Lily said, clicking the rim of her glass to Nikki’s.
“Cheers.”
“How’s the work going? Figured out who killed that man, whatever his name is?”
“Billy Huber. Not yet, but working on it.”
“And how does Pierce feel about it?”
“What do you think?” Nikki kicked out a barstool and sat at the counter.
She made a face.
“That’s about right, I think.”
She nodded. “Remember, I’m ceding my chef rights to you tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have some much-needed me time.”
With that, Lily swept outside and around the corner, where, Nikki guessed, she might be sneaking a cigarette. An afternoon with Mom at the country club while trying to engage Phee and corral Chloe could turn almost anyone into making questionable choices. A smoke was the least she probably needed.
By the time that Pierce walked through the door, Nikki had managed to doctor up a box of Helper with sausage—forget the hamburger the package suggested—and tomato paste and some fresh herbs from Lily’s herb garden on the back deck. The salad was sparse, but it did the job as far as greens were concerned, and she found a loaf of bread that she warmed in the oven. She even cut up slices of apples and bananas for Chloe.
It wasn’t exactly an epicurean delight, but it sufficed.
Lily had relented and set dinnerware on the table, then added a vase of cut flowers she’d snipped from the garden.
“Hey,” Pierce said and kissed Nikki on the cheek. “This looks so … uptown.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” She nodded to the empty box on the counter. “Don’t expect too much. Embellished, but pre-packaged.”
“Smells wonderful.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered against the back of her neck, “And so do you.”
“Take it upstairs!” Lily called from the dining area.
“What’s this all about?” Nikki asked as he released her.
“I thought maybe I was too hard on you earlier,” he admitted and picked up a slice of apple.
“Those are for your daughter.”
