Part 4 (1/2)

There was no arguing with Lillian, so I kept my thoughts to myself as she punched in her friend's telephone number. After a minute she hung up without saying a word. ”I got her machine. Can you believe it? She's already gone, spouting some nonsense about moving to the Florida Keys.”

”I think the Keys are beautiful,” I said.

”I know how pretty they are, but I didn't think Hester would actually go through with her crazy idea.”

”You knew about this?” I asked.

”I just a.s.sumed she was daydreaming out loud. Last year she wanted to move to Alaska. The year before that it was Tuscany.”

”So where is Jennifer supposed to go now?” Sara Lynn asked.

Before Lillian could reply, I said, ”Jennifer's going to bed. You two don't need to worry about where I'm going to live. I'll find a place on my own.” Before either one of them could say another word, I said good night and headed off to my room. If I wasn't there with them, they couldn't persuade me to do something I had no intention of doing. I crept silently into the pink bedroom, and from the light s.h.i.+ning in from the hallway, I could see Oggie and Nash curled up on my pillows, one cat per pillow. It appeared that they'd had no trouble making themselves at home, but I hoped they didn't get too comfortable.

There was no way I was moving in with Lillian for more than one night.

THEMED CARDS.

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Chapter 4.

The next morning, I had to rush to get the cats back to my apartment before work. Lillian had gotten up early and had outdone herself with a feast of breakfast for the three of us, and I'm afraid we all dawdled over coffee long past when we should have been getting ready for the day ahead. I'd offered to help clean up, but Lillian had refused my aid on the pretext that I had enough to do as it was. I suspected she'd witnessed a couple of near drops last night when I'd been rinsing her crystal and china, and didn't want to take any chances this morning. Sara Lynn's spirits seemed to be good, so I headed home to get ready for a new day of card making.

At the card shop, I found a message on my machine. I was just starting to play it when the telephone rang.

”Custom Card Creations,” I said.

”You've really got the hang of that greeting,” Gail, my best friend in the world, said.

”What are you doing up this early? I didn't think you salespeople rolled out of bed until noon.”

”Don't kid yourself. The guys I start selling to are up at five A.M., and they expect me to keep their bizarre working hours, if you can imagine that.” Gail sold heavy-construction equipment, and if her expensive wardrobe and fancy jewelry were any indication, she was very good at what she did.

”So what's up?” I asked as I sorted through the mail.

”I just wanted to be sure you're still coming to dinner. I heard about what happened last night, but I don't want that to interfere with our plans.”

”Why would it?” I asked. ”I'm not involved in the murder or the investigation.”

I had to hold the telephone away from my ear as she erupted in laughter. After she calmed herself, I asked, ”Are you through cackling yet?”

”Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Jennifer Shane, I know there is no way in the world you're not going to poke your nose into Eliza Glade's murder, and I'm not silly enough to ask you not to. But I don't want you to bail on dinner tonight, no matter what the excuse. Reggie said his friend is really excited about meeting you.”

”That alone is enough to make me worry,” I said.

”Why's that? You're a charming, beautiful woman who owns a successful small business.”

I laughed. ”Okay, first, thanks for the pep talk, and second, I can't imagine anyone in their right mind being excited about a blind date.”

”Don't think of it that way,” Gail said. ”Consider it an opportunity to meet someone new and interesting.”

”In front of you, your new boyfriend, his mother and her date. You're right, no pressure there to be on my best behavior.”

Gail laughed again. It was one of the things I loved about her: she had an infectious sense of humor that I could win over the coldest heart. ”You'll be fine. I promise. Remember, you need to be there by seven. , Are you sure you don't want us to pick you up? It's no problem, really.”

”I can drive myself, thank you very much. Besides, if I need an excuse to take off, I don't want to have to wait for a ride.”

”Ever the skeptic, aren't you? See you tonight,” Gail said, then hung up.

Honestly, she was the best friend I could ask for, but she worried about me too much. Whenever she was in love, which was often enough, Gail wanted nothing more than the world to be in love all around her. That meant that over the years I'd had more than my fair share of blind dates and fix-ups, all done to keep my best friend mollified more than in hopes of finding the love of my life. Sometimes I wondered if I'd already found my special someone, and we'd blown it. Greg Langston had looked pretty cozy with his latest love the night before. So where did that leave me? Still looking, I supposed.

The chime over the front door rang, and I looked up expecting to see Lillian. Instead, it was an actual customer-a welcome distraction indeed. A thin young woman with curly blond hair came in and started to look around.

”Is there anything I can help you with?”

”No thanks,” she said as she picked up a card, read it, then put it back in the rack.

I watched her do that for ten minutes, then said, ”If you can't find exactly what you want, I'm sure I could help you make the perfect card yourself.”

The girl said softly, ”No, that's way too much trouble.”

”For you or for me?” I asked. ”Because if you're worried about my time, I'd like nothing better than to help you make something special. After all, that's why I opened the shop.”

She looked at me with uncertainty. ”Really? You'd really help me make my own card?”

”Absolutely,” I said as I joined her and held out my hand. ”By the way, I'm Jennifer.”

”I'm Krystal,” she said.

”It's nice to meet you, Krystal. Now, exactly what kind of card are you looking for?”

”I'd like a get-well card for my mom. She's in the hospital.”

”Okay,” I said as I led her to our supplies. ”First off, what's your mother's favorite color?”

”She's a nut for anything blue,” the girl admitted.

I led her to the card stock and fancy papers we carried. ”Pick out a shade you think she'd like.”

She did as I asked, opting for a midnight blue. I grabbed a sheet of lighter blue, and a few other sheets, too. ”We'll use these as complementary colors. Now what's her favorite thing in the world?”

Krystal didn't even have to think about it. ”She loves her flower garden pa.s.sionately.”