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my chair and tried to determine when and where I’d gone wrong, or how I could have gone so very wrong. Dr. Spock had smiled at me from the bedside table. I’d read those magazines in the pediatrician’s office, the ones crammed full of articles on how to teach baby to be bilingual and how to recognize common illnesses before any symptoms appeared. I’d taken pictures at all her birthday parties and had sworn to have the roll developed before she went away to college. Then again, I hadn’t checked her into a nunnery on her thirteenth birthday.
    I was wondering if there might be a nunnery in the
immediate area when the bell jangled me out of my reverie. I went to the front room and found Peter Rosen thumbing through a magazine.
    “How’s the diet going?” he asked.
    “They talk a good line, but thus far they’ve managed to avoid actually going on any of them. I finally got fed up with their incessant excuses and suggested they cut out junk food for two weeks. I might as well have suggested they sprout halos and audition with the pope for beatification.”
    “Every once in a while I wonder if I should have begat a child to take care of me in my old age. Then I take a hard look at your offspring and put a few dollars in my savings account. When I’m in my dotage, you’ll feed me oatmeal and wipe the drool off my chin, won’t you?”
    “If they give us adjoining rooms at Sunset Manor,” I said lightly. It was time for a diversion. “I didn’t see anything in the newspaper about this new case of yours.”
    “And you never will.”
    “Then you’re not involved in anything?”
    “Oh, but I am, and it’s a major muddle. All I said was that you’d never read about it in the paper.”
    “So it’s terribly hush-hush? Classified information, the CIA, Farbergate; that sort of thing?”
    He gave me a wolfish grin. “Your nostrils are flaring, darling. Could it be you’re curious?”
    “Of course not,” I said, mentally cursing my tattletale nostrils. “I merely wanted to know if you were going to be occupied with this case for the next few days.”
    “Why would I assume otherwise?” he murmured.
    “Why don’t you go away and assume whatever you
want. I have better things to do than indulge in this silly conversation. You’re not at all attractive when you gloat.”
    He gave me a wounded look. “I wasn’t gloating. This happens to be one case you’ll never read about, that’s all. For once you won’t be able to interfere, and I take a vast pleasure in that.”
    I was considering how much acidity to insert into my next comment when the telephone rang. I settled for a tight-lipped smile, picked up the receiver, and said, “Book Depot.”
    “Claire?”
    It was almost a whisper, and I had no problem identifying its origin. “Maribeth, what a pleasant surprise.”
    “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and if you’re still willing to hire me, I guess I’d like to work part time.”
    “That’s an even more pleasant surprise. Are you sure it’s not going to cause problems with Gerald?”
    “It’ll cause problems with Gerald,” she said in a resigned voice, “but I don’t know that I care. Not caring’s become a habit lately. When shall I start?”
    “Tomorrow would be fine. Since you have no transportation, I’m sure Joanie will be happy to pick you up and bring you to the store. She adores to volunteer.” I said good-bye and hung up. Feeling more than a little bemused, I repeated my suggestion to Peter that he make assumptions elsewhere.
    He wandered away, still grinning like a damn wolf giving directions to a red-hooded kid, and I was trying to figure out how to find out about his mysterious case when Joanie returned.
    “Were you impressed with the diet place?” I asked.

    “Very much so.” She nudged me off my stool and sat on it. “It’s only been open a few weeks, and they’re offering a special to get started. It’s owned and run by a young doctor named Sheldon Winder