Chapter 14

Frances Noonan couldn’t help laughing as she relayed the conversation with the lawyer to the Fog Ladies, including Sarah. Sarah seemed to have a lot of free time this month, Mrs. Noonan noticed.

“Unfortunately, I think his hard sell worked. Julia is strongly considering his proposal.”

Harriet Flynn crossed herself. “She needs our prayers.”

“She needs more than that,” Enid Carmichael said. “Her son’s going to prison, and this lawyer’s going to eat up all her life savings.”

“What was he like?” asked Alma Gordon. “Did his hair glow like it does on TV?” She looked far too dreamy, Mrs. Noonan thought.

“I didn’t think you cared about hair, Alma. Mr. Glenn’s not got much up top,” said Mrs. Carmichael.

“Enid!” said Mrs. Noonan. “What a dreadful thing to say.” Where was Enid’s filter?

“Ladies, ladies,” said Olivia Honeycut. “You’re straying from the point. Which is, how does he think he can get Paul Blackwell off?”

They all turned back to Mrs. Noonan. “He’s short on answers at the moment,” she told them. “He preached a lot of fancy words, but he didn’t say anything concrete. Oh, I hope Julia steers clear of him. I didn’t get a very good feeling. Even his young office woman made me uncomfortable. She was a beauty, could have been a model, I’m sure, but there she sat in his front room, sitting and staring and not doing anything at all. It was unnerving.”

“Beauty is wasted on the youth,” said Mrs. Honeycut.

“Beauty is skin deep, and it sounds like this one didn’t have much between the ears,” said Mrs. Carmichael.

“Beauty leads to trouble,” said Mrs. Flynn.

“I think this man is trouble,” said Mrs. Noonan. “I only hope Julia thinks so too.”

Alma Gordon stayed back when the ladies left. “What else, Frances, what else? What was he wearing? Did you get to see that sleek glass desk they show on television? Tell me again about his hair.”

Frances smiled as she set out saucers and a second plate of sugar cookies. She would try to remember every detail to tell her friend. “What kind of tea would you like?”

“Oh, no, no thank you, Frances,” Alma said. “I can’t stay. Mr. Glenn is taking me bowling. Can you imagine? Bowling. I just wanted to hear a little more.”

Frances Noonan turned off the kettle and sighed. Tea for one was fine, but a far cry from tea for two. No, she could not imagine bowling.