Was it time for the next size already?

I made my way to the nursery to change her but the ringing phone interrupted my route. Turning from the nursery, I walked back to the living room and picked up the cordless.

'Kate! Where have you been?' Mother shouted on the line.

'I took Laurie to coffee.'

'She's not old enough to have coffee!' Mother shrieked.

'Not her. Me. She just came along for the company.'

'Oh!' Mom yelled.

'Why are you yelling?'

'I'm not yelling!' Mom shouted.

'Yes, you are,' I said, elevating my tone to match hers. This caused Laurie to squirm in my arms.

'Am I? I just want to be sure you can hear me.'

Laurie started to whimper.

'Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?'

'I'm on my new cell phone!' Mom said.

'You got a cell? For what?'

I'd been telling my mother for years to get a mobile phone, but her reply was always the same-she didn't need one.

She laughed. 'Well, I want Hank and Albert to be able to reach me.'

'My mom, the female Casanova!'

'A regular man-eater,' Mom giggled. 'Oh. I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving. Should we have it at my place?'

Normally, we had Thanksgiving at my house. Jim did a mean turkey. He put the effort in to brine it, and it paid off every year. We started hosting as soon as we bought our house because Mom's poor turkey was always always dry. dry.

'Uh. Your place? No, no! We can do it here, like usual.'

'Yes, but Laurie is so small and Thanksgiving is so much work. It might be easier to do it here.'

I recalled the last year Mom had hosted, she had barred me from entering the kitchen and in an accusatory manner had said, 'You're going to tell me the turkey is dry.'

When I had asked, 'Why would I say that?'

She had replied, 'Because the turkey is is dry.' dry.'

I wrestled for an inoffensive way to decline Mom's invite. 'I'm sure Jim wants to do it here. He loves hosting Thanksgiving. It's our favorite holiday.' And before she could get a word in edgewise, I said, 'How are you going to juggle it though with Hank and Albert? Who are you going to invite?'

Mom laughed. 'Oh, see I got lucky on that one. Hank is flying back East to join one of his daughters. So I'm free to ask Albert.'

'Great. Ask him to join us here, what, around four P.M.?'

Laurie's whimper turned into a howl.

'I have to go, Mom, Laurie is completely soaked.'

'Okay. I'll see you when I get back from the Mexican Riviera.'

'What? Wait. I thought you weren't going until the fifteenth!'

'I'm not but that's the day after tomorrow and I need to pack and have my beauty rest before I go.'

'The fifteenth. Wow. Time flies. My little mongoose will be two months on the nineteenth.'

'I'll bring her back some maracas.'

Had two months almost pa.s.sed? I kissed Laurie's soft fuzzy head, then changed her diaper and pulled the child development book off my shelf. I quickly turned to the chapter on the second month. I skimmed through it, realizing I was holding my breath.

A box ent.i.tled 'May Possibly' stated that holding the head up at a 90-degree angle was something an infant may possibly do at 2 months. So about 10 weeks.

Yeah. Laurie wasn't behind!

I was a success as a mom!

My squirrel was right on track. I did a little jig with Laurie.

I held her up and positioned her so her face was looking down at me and her legs were tilting up.

'You're right on track, bunny girl. Practically a genius!'

She gave me the 'scary eye' look, irises pointing down with the whites of the eyes towering above.

I hugged her to me. 'Okay, you're practically a genius but not when you give me that look. Let's go on a stakeout! You can use your supergroovy eyes and help mommy see any monkey business.'

It was almost four thirty. I would have to hightail it out of the house in order to catch Alan leaving his office.

I packed Laurie into the car along with plenty of diapers, a change of clothes in case her diaper leaked again, and water for me. I wanted to pack snacks, but how was I ever going to lose any weight doing that?

I parked down the street from Alan's office and waited. It looked as though the building had only one entrance and exit. No attached parking garage that he could sneak out from. After about fifteen minutes I was rewarded by Alan leaving and locking up the storefront. He was accompanied by a woman with short gray hair. They exchanged words and departed in different directions.

I watch Alan walk down the street. I a.s.sumed he was heading to his car, but I didn't want to lose track of him. I needed binoculars.

How could I be a legitimate PI without binoculars?

Through the rearview mirror I glanced at Laurie in her car seat. Her tiny face was reflected in the Elmo mirror pinned to the backseat. She was sound asleep. I started the car and nosed out of my spot.

Alan was climbing into a silver Lexus. I hesitated in pulling out of my parking s.p.a.ce as I wanted to trail him, but another car was already angling for my spot.

I pulled out then pa.s.sed Alan's Lexus. He pulled out behind me.

Great.

I sped up and turned right at the next corner. I made a quick U-turn. His Lexus and my car intersected at the corner. I ducked my head so he wouldn't see my face and waited a moment for his car to pa.s.s.

Instead he honked for me to cross through the intersection. I didn't want to peek up but what was I supposed to do? He honked again. I stayed tucked out of view. He didn't know my car but he would recognize my face.

I recalled the look he gave me at Helene's funeral. He didn't want me around then and certainly he wouldn't want me following him now.

My phone rang from the depths of the diaper bag.

Shoot.

That was probably Jim.

I pulled the bag close and rummaged around inside.

Another car honked from behind me. It seemed that enough time had pa.s.sed that Alan would be gone by now. I peeked up over the dashboard. No Lexus.

The car behind me honked again and my phone continued to ring.

I dropped the bag, ignoring the phone, and turned right. I spotted Alan's taillights a block and a half ahead of me.

Oh good.

I'm not so bad at this follow-the-leader thing after all!

My phone continued to ring, and just as I reached for the bag again, it stopped.

The Lexus was only slightly ahead of me now so I slowed down. I followed the turns Alan made and ended up right at his and Margaret's home.

No 'other woman' tonight.

Dissatisfied, I turned the car around to go home. At least he hadn't spotted me; that was one good thing. I could try again tomorrow.

I found my phone. The voice mail icon was showing. I listened to the message-it was Evelyn returning my call.

Okay. When one door closes, another opens.

CHAPTER TEN.

Washed-up

To Do:

1. Get binoculars.

2. Talk to other members of Roo & You.

3. Exercise.

4. Pick up PI book from library.

5. Plan menu for Thanksgiving.

After leaving Jim to babysit Laurie, I met Evelyn at Ocean Beach. Her thin blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore flip-flops. I waved as she approached.

She'd surprised me by suggesting a walk on the beach. With her at eight months pregnant, I figured the last thing she'd want to do would be to shuffle through sand, but I needed to work off the baby weight and she insisted she wanted the exercise.

So, hey, I could kill two birds at once. Work out and investigate-mult.i.tasking again!

'Thank you for meeting with me,' I said, pulling my baseball cap down a bit to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun.

Why hadn't I brought my sungla.s.ses? It was early November and the sun was low in the sky. The weather was clear and thankfully the gusts of wind seemed to be holding off until a later hour. We walked down the concrete steps from the La Playa Boulevard entrance and stepped onto the sand. Evelyn promptly removed her flip-flops.

She frowned at my cross-trainers. 'Walking barefoot in the sand is good for your feet.'

'Hmmm,' I mumbled, not about to remove my shoes and socks.

Yes, digging your feet in the sand is wonderful, but the Pacific Ocean at this lat.i.tude is freezing. One dip in the water and my toes go numb.

We walked toward the water in silence. The sand near La Playa Boulevard is extremely hard to get around in because it's deep and loose. But near the water it's compacted by wave after wave, making it a lot firmer and easier to walk on.

I was silent, doing all I could not to keel over. Good Lord, walking on the beach after having a baby is tough! I glanced at Evelyn, who even at eight months pregnant seemed to be cruising along the sand with no effort. I knew from dinner the other night that she had a two-year-old also.

How was it that she was so fit?

The water splashed against her bare feet, but she didn't seem to mind at all.

'Where's your baby?' Evelyn asked.

'At home with Daddy.'

Evelyn raised an eyebrow with interest. 'A stay-at-home dad?'

'Well, not . . . Sort of. Not really, he works from home.'