Motherhood Is Murder - Part 12
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Part 12

The Cliff House was suddenly suspended above us; we had made it to the end of the beach. I stopped walking and glanced at my watch-thirty minutes had elapsed.

'Want to start back?' I asked.

'All right.' Evelyn nodded. But instead of turning around, she plopped down in the sand and was silent.

I listened to the lapping sound as the waves crashed against the sand, the tide breaking a few feet from where I stood. I reluctantly sat next to Evelyn, wondering if I would be able to get back up.

I picked up some sand in my fist then slowly let it trickle out like an hourgla.s.s. Evelyn watched me, her face showed strain.

'Are you feeling okay?' I asked.

Evelyn shrugged. 'Sure, why not?'

'I mean physically? You're not having contractions or anything, are you?'

Why hadn't I brought my cell phone with me? Jim was right-I needed to make a better habit of it! What if the woman went into labor here on the beach? What was I going to do?

'No, don't worry. I won't go into labor on you.' Evelyn picked up a stick and drew a flower in the sand. 'I'm not due for another couple weeks and my first was five days late, so I don't think I can get that lucky.'

'You never know. And we just had this strenuous walk.'

'You think that was strenuous?'

Oh, brother. Now I was going to get into a fitness compet.i.tion-with a pregnant woman, no less.

She picked up her stick, crossed out the flower. 'Celia is having me walk every day. Supposedly it can help induce labor, but I don't know. I did my own research and it's not conclusive. I see her on the fifteenth. Maybe I'll be dilated.'

I bit my tongue. I could see how having a home birth might be nice. But what about the pain medication, for G.o.d's sake!

Evelyn read my face. 'What?'

'Aren't you concerned, you know, what if something goes wrong?'

'If there's any emergency, you just go to the hospital.'

'What about-'

'The epidural didn't work on me with Kyle. So I experienced labor firsthand. I'm not afraid of that.'

'Wow. You have a lot more courage than me.'

Evelyn laughed. 'It's all relative. We all have stuff we're afraid of.'

'What do you think happened to Helene?' I probed.

Evelyn began to draw steps in the sand. 'I went outside to get some fresh air. That's when I heard Helene and Sara arguing, then Sara stormed off.

'Why was Sara's dress wet?'

Evelyn stopped drawing in the sand. 'Was it? I don't know.'

I watched the little boat out in the ocean, bobbing up and down with the tide. A seagull showing some moxie cawed at us and approached. Evelyn waved the stick at it and it ran off.

'What about the spouses?' I asked. 'Can you tell me anything about Bruce or Alan?'

Evelyn scratched out the steps she had drawn and doodled a heart in the sand. 'I don't really know them. It was the first time I met them. I thought they were nice enough but my husband said Alan was kind of keyed up.'

'What do you mean?'

She shrugged. 'Fred was having a cigar with Howard, Sara's husband, who said Alan was running around like a chicken with his head cut off.'

'Do you know anything about an affair Alan might have been having?'

A smile crossed her face. 'Was he cheating on Margaret?'

My heart dropped. How could she be happy at someone else's pain?

It's not my job to judge.

'Do you know anything about it?'

She shrugged. 'No. You ask Sara, though. They're neighbors. She might know something.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Falling Behind

To Do:

1. Call Sara.

2. Clean the house.

3. What does a nanny cost? Do they clean house, too?

4. Look up swim cla.s.ses for Laurie!

5. Research preschools!

6. Walk on the beach every day!!! It is pathetic that I get out of breath after a few steps!

When I arrived home, the first thing I did was make straight for the washing machine. I pulled off my sneakers and emptied them directly into the mop sink. I was mesmerized by the amount of sand pouring out.

How could my feet fit in there with all that sand?

I peeled off my socks. What was it about Ocean Beach that made this sand so sticky? It clung to my socks and was even between my toes. I put my socks into the washing machine and dumped the contents of the laundry basket, which was next to the machine, inside it.

I heard the upstairs door creak open.

'Kate?' Jim called from the top of the stairs.

'It's me. I'm doing laundry. I didn't want to track sand upstairs.'

Jim descended the stairs. 'How was your walk?'

'Good, but it nearly killed me. I'm totally out of shape.'

He wrapped his arms around my waist. 'Don't be so hard on yourself, you just had a baby.'

'That was weeks ago! I can't believe this woman at eight months pregnant outpaced me.'

Jim laughed. 'Sleep deprivation can do funny things to stamina.'

I leaned my head onto his chest and listened to his heartbeat. 'That's so nice of you to say, honey, when we both know I need to get my b.u.t.t in gear and work out.'

He kissed my hair. 'You'll be ready to run with the bulls by spring.'

I pulled away from his chest and looked at his face. 'Speaking of bulls or bullies-this woman was a piece of work! No wonder they kicked her out of the club. So mean!'

Jim laughed. 'You think everyone is mean, but that's because you're too nice.'

'I'm not nice.'

Jim looked incredulous.

'Where's Laurie?' I asked.

'Upstairs. I left her unsupervised. I'm sure she's trashed the place by now.'

I made a fist and playfully waved it in his face. 'Okay, I'm nice, but not that nice.'

He laughed. 'She's asleep in her crib. And by the way, Dr. Alan Lipe's office called. They said there was a cancellation for tomorrow, wanted to know if you wanted the spot.'

I opened the door to the medical office and peered into the waiting room. It was empty except for the receptionist sitting behind a closed-in gla.s.s counter. She was dressed in a white lab coat and had thick short gray hair.

She peered at me over her bifocals.

I smiled. 'Hi. I'm Kate Connolly. I have an appointment with Dr. Alan Lipe.'

She studied the appointment book. 'Yes. May I see your referral slip?'

'Ooooh. Um. I forgot that.'

She tapped the book with the eraser of her pencil. 'And the referring doctor is . . . ?'

Of course, I didn't have one.

Think, Kate, think!

'Dr. Green,' I lied.

Dr. Green was my ob-gyn, but was the only name I could come up with.

She frowned. 'Which practice is Dr. Green with?'

'Uh. I don't remember.'

Her lips pursed, she stared at me sternly. I smiled. She got up from her chair in silence and disappeared down a hallway. I remained standing at the counter.

I'd made the appointment with the intent of grilling Alan, but I didn't really want him to know Margaret was on to him.

What would I say to him?

A few moments later, the receptionist reappeared in the doorway connected to the hallway. 'Mrs. Connolly, right this way.'

We walked down the hallway and she motioned me into the third door on the left.

The room had only a patient table, a stool, and a small set of drawers. On the wall hung a print of a foot with all the ligaments, joints, and muscles exposed.

I hoisted myself on the table and waited for Alan.

A few minutes pa.s.sed and then came a knock on the door. It creaked open before I could respond. Alan entered, wearing a blue polo shirt and Dockers. His curly hair was unruly and there were dark circles under his eyes.

He stuck out his hand. 'Mrs. Connolly, I'm Dr. Lipe.'

'h.e.l.lo, Alan.' I shook his hand. 'Do you remember me? From the cruise on the other night-'

'Of course, yes. Of course. Terrible night.' He moved his head up and down repeatedly as though trying to sift through some memories. 'You're a private investigator, correct?'

I nodded.

'Yes. I recall Margaret saying so. We saw each other again at Helene's service.'

'That's right.'