Chapter 59

“Thanks for taking in my mail,” Alma Gordon said. “Enid asks me all the time if she can do it. I know she just wants to snoop through everything.”

“It’s no problem for me. You get a lot of mail, don’t you?” Frances Noonan said.

Alma laughed. “I’m a sucker for filling out those little cards. Each one seems to get me several new catalogs. Once it gets started, there’s no stopping it.”

“Lots of baby catalogs.”

“Yes, but I also get fliers for exercise equipment and sports cars and mortgage companies and skiing at Tahoe. I think they think I’m younger than I am.”

“The wrong demographic,” Mrs. Noonan said. “You fooled them.”

“I fooled them all right. Last month I got a coupon for an inexpensive weekend package to Calistoga, and Sylvia and Harold are going to go. That reminds me, I’m watching Owen for them, so this week I’ll go down on Friday. I won’t be home until next Wednesday.” Saying it out loud made it sound longer.

“That’s a long stretch,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“Yes. I think I’ll be pretty worn out by then. Owen’s so active. My usual three days a week are perfect. They were thinking of day care, there’s a good one right down the street, but this has worked out so well. It suits me just fine.” She didn’t mention that she was also very happy on Wednesday afternoon when Sylvia came home, and Alma got to relax on the train back to San Francisco knowing Albert would be waiting at the station.

“Maybe I could come down for a visit, help you out,” Mrs. Noonan said.

“I’d like that.” Alma could count on Frances Noonan to know what she needed before she knew herself.

“I bet Mr. Glenn would like to come too,” Frances said. “We can both help with Owen. Which reminds me. You know Sarah’s friend, Helen?”

“Hmm?” Alma was thinking of Mr. Glenn. Harold had a big-screen TV. Maybe Albert could watch the Super Game on it. “Oh, yes, of course. With the twins.”

“That’s her. Her husband watches them while she works, but he’s supposed to be writing his PhD in Japanese history.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Gordon. “That’s impossible.” She couldn’t even read the front page of the newspaper with Baby Owen charging around the house, wanting food, wanting a story, wanting to sing or paint or build towers with his blocks.

“Exactly,” said Mrs. Noonan.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Mrs. Gordon. She knew her friend, how she always wanted to help where she could. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to participate. I think my three days is enough. Owen moves so fast, I have to keep getting up and down. Sometimes I get dizzy if I do it too fast. It’s my blood pressure medication. I don’t think I could handle twins too.”

“Oh, I know, Alma, I wasn’t counting on you. Between Olivia Honeycut, Harriet Flynn, and me, I think we could help a lot.”

“It’s a lovely offer. I’m sure Helen and Scott will appreciate it. But does Harriet babysit?”

“She told me she’s up for anything. You wouldn’t believe how she keeps asking me about new projects. She mentioned babysitting specifically, thinking of little Ben Blackwell. She’s a whole new woman.”

“Like Lionel is a whole new man. I’m so happy for Mr. Glenn. He’s beside himself.”

“Things are going well, then?”

“Extraordinarily. For now. Fingers crossed.” Alma worried about Lionel, that Albert would get hurt, but for now, the two seemed smitten.

“I’ll talk to the group on Friday about the babysitting. I wish you were going to be there. I’m making chocolate fudge.”

“I’ll miss you too. And the fudge. Maybe you could bring me a piece. Don’t talk about anything important while I’m not there.”

“Not much to talk about these days. Looks like I was wrong on all accounts. No guardian killed for insurance money. Spencer Tremaine is in the clear. Paradise Cove seems as charming as you thought. It doesn’t leave Julia Blackwell feeling very happy because her son is left as the murderer.”

“I can’t imagine raising a child into adulthood, doing the best you can, then having something like this happen.” Mrs. Gordon’s heart squeezed, and she was happy she’d had it checked out. “Look at Lionel. Look at Baby Owen. All the love, all the worries. And then to have it turn out like it did for Julia. So sad.”

“I still don’t think Paul did it,” Mrs. Noonan said. “I just don’t have any idea who did.”

How could they? Mrs. Gordon wondered. How could they know anything about all these sad families?