Murder Is Uncooperative (12 page)

“So far. It's old, so I couldn't find the files online. I had to ask the staff at the library. They should be able to find more, but it'll have to wait until next week.”

"Next week?”

“Yeah, they'll be back on Tuesday. They're off for the long weekend.”

“Long weekend?” I asked.

“Yes, Rebecca,” Dave said. “I know you don't work regular hours any more, but I thought you'd remember Thanksgiving. I'm covering a game tomorrow, but I'm off for a couple of days after I file my story. I'll see what I can find out for you next week.”

Damn. Not only was I going to have to wait to find out if the paper had more information on the disappearance in the co-op, but I'd forgotten Thanksgiving!

There were usually lots of reminders—flyers advertising turkeys on sale, craft projects from Ben's preschool. And it was an important family holiday. I'd been distracted by what was going on in the co-op. But maybe there was another reason I hadn't considered the holiday.

I thought back to last year. Mom had been in the final stages of her cancer, in palliative care. Dave was being uncharacteristically helpful and had taken Ben for the weekend. I was pretty sure he hadn't cooked a turkey, but Ben seemed to have had a good time.

And Dad and I had not been the least bit interested in celebrating the holiday. Mom had always made a pretty big deal of holidays, cooking dinner for the family and inviting friends over. She usually made a point of inviting people who didn't have close family and who wouldn't have a celebratory dinner otherwise.

Last year Dad and I had just grabbed something to eat and headed for the palliative care center to spend time with Mom. We hadn't thought we had much to celebrate.

But this year we had a new home. And I still had my father and my son. They deserved a good holiday. And we were
making some new co-op friends. Mom would have wanted me to carry on the tradition. I shuffled the papers into file folders.

I had a turkey to buy. I hoped I hadn't left it too late.

I had time to stop at the store before picking Ben up, especially if I could use the car. I wasn't sure how Dad would feel about a Thanksgiving celebration. Each of the holidays without my mother had been hard on us. I was really dreading Christmas, but knew I had to make it special for Ben.

I found my father reading in the living room.

“Hey, Dad. I was just talking to Dave, and he reminded me that it's Thanksgiving this weekend. Are you up for Thanks-giving dinner? I thought I'd pick up a turkey.”

He considered for a minute. “That'd be nice. But isn't our family a little small for a whole turkey these days?”

“I thought I might invite some of the people from the co-op. I met this young couple at the co-op meeting. I don't think they have any family nearby. And Gwen, the president, seems pretty upset about Les and everything else going on in the co-op. She might enjoy dinner, if she doesn't already have plans.”

Dad perked up. “I think Mariana next door is on her own. She mentioned that her son plans to move back to Vancouver but not yet. And it doesn't sound like she has anyone else.”

Interesting. Was Dad just being neighborly or was he showing interest in Mariana? Either way, it was a good idea.

“Great. Well, I'll get some stuff before I pick up Ben. Okay, if I take the car, or will you need it?”

He smiled. “That's fine. I'm not planning on going anywhere. And it sounds like you'll need the car if you're buying everything for a big Thanksgiving dinner.”

Fortunately the store still had turkeys for sale, and I managed to find one I thought would work for our gathering. I picked
up potatoes, cranberries and a range of vegetables. I remembered a recipe for pumpkin cheesecake I'd read in the newspaper and used my phone to check the paper's website for the recipe. I wasn't much of a baker but it sounded easy enough. With the ingredients for that added to the cart, I thought I was ready for Thanksgiving.

I probably should have invited people first, I thought. Then I'd know how much food to buy. But Mom had always approached the holidays with such a casual, welcoming attitude, preparing a feast and inviting a crowd. I hoped I could learn from her example.

Ben ran to greet me when I arrived at his pre-school. He was clutching sheets of paper coated with bright paint. He handed me one with round splotches of bright orange paint dotted all over it. “A pumpkin patch!” I exclaimed. “Beautiful.”

Ben grinned. “I made that one for Grandpa. And this one's for Daddy. I told the teacher you all had to have one.”

Dave's picture featured round brown splotches, which I guessed were turkeys. “And this one's for you, Mommy.”

Mine showed a brick-colored rectangle covered at random with other squares and rectangles. Stick people were lined up in front of it, along with a round object that looked like a cat. It was the same size as the people. The painting was done with a four-year-old's style but the subject was unmistakable.

“It's the co-op,” Ben said. “This is me, and you and Grandpa. And Maui,” he added, pointing to the round spot I had guessed was a cat. “And these are all our friends in the co-op.”

“It's beautiful,” I said, hugging him. “Thank you so much, baby.” I was glad I was planning a Thanksgiving dinner. Despite the problems in the co-op, my little boy was happy there. And I was giving thanks for that.

I was unloading my groceries from the car, finding a light bag Ben could carry, when Jeremy pulled into the parking lot. He
pulled into his spot and walked back to our car with a lithe grace I couldn't help admiring.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

I almost shook my head and then glanced at the piles of bags in the trunk. I clearly needed help, unless I was going to make multiple trips. “Might as well take advantage of another man with strong arms,” I said. “Thanks for the offer.”

Oh, my gawd, had I actually said that? Take advantage of...

I gestured to Ben. “I mean, I already have one man with strong arms but another would be great.”

Jeremy appeared not to notice my embarrassment, but I did think I saw a small grin on his face as he bent over the trunk to gather the bags. “Glad to be taken advantage of.”

My face was red as we headed for the elevator, but Ben chatted happily. Jeremy helped me carry everything into the kitchen and even lifted the heavy turkey into the fridge.

“That's quite the beast,” he commented. “Are you having a lot of family over?”

I laughed. “No, there's just us. It was the smallest one I could find. I think I might have left the shopping a bit late. But my mother always had a tradition of inviting lots of friends for holiday dinners, especially people who had nowhere else to go. We haven't done much in the way of celebration since she died. But I thought I'd put something together . . . maybe invite a few people from the co-op.” I looked at him. “Say, Jeremy, do you have plans?”

He smiled. I found myself momentarily distracted by how white and even his teeth were, and how his short red beard framed his mouth.

“Nope,” he answered. “I do have my son this weekend. But, I'm sorry to say, I haven't even thought about a turkey. It's a bit much for just the two of us.”

"Then why don't you both join us? I'm sure Ben would enjoy having another kid around. As for the dinner, I won't promise it will be anywhere near as good as my mom's but I'll do my best.”

We agreed on Sunday at 5:30. After he left, I grabbed the phone and the list of co-op members. I hoped a few other people were free.

It would be awkward if it was just Jeremy and our family. He'd think the invitation was more than the friendly gesture I'd intended.

But was that really all I intended? It had been so long since I'd paid any attention to a man. But he was very good looking and I thought I liked him. Maybe I did want to get to know him as more than a neighbor. And maybe he wanted that too. This would be a chance to find out.

“I've already phoned Mariana,” Dad called from the living room. So he'd taken the initiative to invite her, I thought. That made it seem like more than a casual invitation too. “But I wasn't sure what time. I said you'd call her about that.”

Mariana answered right away when I called her about the time. “Yes, Rebecca, Angus did say you'd call. Five thirty on Sunday? Perfect. Now what can I bring?”

“You don't have to bring anything,” I assured her.

“Nonsense. Hosting a holiday dinner is hard work. At least let me bring a salad.”

I agreed that would be very nice and went on to my next call.

“No, I don't have plans,” Gwen answered when I called. “Thanksgiving's such a family event, isn't it, and I don't have any family close by. What a lovely idea to invite people from the co-op. That's very thoughtful, Rebecca. I'd like to bring something to help out. How about dessert?”

"Well, I thought I'd try that pumpkin cheesecake recipe that was in the paper this week.”

“Ooooh, that sounds scrumptious,” Gwen said. “But you know, not everyone likes pumpkin. I've got a chocolate pecan pie recipe that's very popular, particularly with boys. I think your Ben would like that, don't you. That way people could have a choice.”

I almost laughed out loud. My mother was always making two or three desserts for her dinner party, just in case someone wanted something else. “You really can't have too many desserts,” she would say.

“You're right,” I agreed. “I think Ben would much prefer chocolate pecan pie. And maybe my dad would too. That's very kind of you, Gwen.

“By the way, I've started to sort through the box you gave me. I wondered if I could come down and pick up the other one.”

“Oh, Rebecca, it's so good of you to be working on this. But I'm just heading out the door. I'm going out to a movie with a friend, and she's going to be picking me up any minute. I don't want to be late. Why don't I bring the other box up to you on Sunday?”

I was dying to go through the other box. But I couldn't really pressure her. “Sure that'd be fine. And I guess I'll have to talk to Ruth about going through the other boxes.”

“She's off for the weekend,” Gwen said. “And she should probably take a few extra days too. She's got holidays due her and heaven knows she probably needs a break, poor thing. I think she's helping her mother clear out Les's apartment. That must be hard. But she said she had things to do, so I think she'll be back on Tuesday. I'm sure she can help you when she gets back.”

I was really being frustrated in my research about the co-op. But I knew I'd probably be too busy getting dinner ready to do much until after Sunday. And I still had people to invite.

Anna was next on the list.

“Oh, that'd be so cool, Rebecca. This'll be our first Thanksgiving with a baby, so we wanted to do something special. But we don't have any family nearby and cooking a turkey seemed like so much trouble for just the three of us. My mom always has so many leftovers, even with a big family. Can you imagine how much turkey we'd have if I made one for just us? “

I imagined the cost of the bird would have been a consideration too. Anna and John didn't look like they had much money. And, with a new baby, their finances must have been stretched.

“I really wished we could have gone home for the weekend,” she went on. “But you know, it just wasn't possible. I miss my family so much. It's so nice of you to invite us, Rebecca. Having dinner with some of the co-op members will be almost like having a family around. I'm really looking forward to it.”

I looked through the list but couldn't see anyone else I knew well enough to invite to Thanksgiving dinner. Besides, there was a limit how many people we could fit in our co-op apartment.

“Everyone said yes,” I called out to my father. “I think this was a good idea. Most of them would've been alone on the holiday and they seemed really happy to come. And nearly everyone wanted to bring something. So it will be more like a potluck.”

“That sounds good,” Dad said, moving from the living room to the kitchen where I'd been phoning. “Who's coming?”

I quickly listed off everyone I'd invited. “Jeremy and his son, Mariana, Gwen, Anna and her family . . . that's 10, including us. Seems like a good size for a Thanksgiving dinner. Although, I don't imagine baby Jordan will be eating much turkey.”

“And Daddy,” Ben said, running down the hall into the kitchen. “Mommy, you forgot to count Daddy.”

Ben was laughing. “Ten, and Daddy makes one more. That's twelve,” he said proudly. Ben had learned how to count at pre-school, and we practiced at home, but he was still a little fuzzy at anything over ten.

“Eleven,” I corrected automatically, then turned to look at him. “But, Ben, you know Daddy doesn't live with us anymore. That's why I didn't count him.”

“But he's still part of our family, right, Mommy,” Ben insisted. “Remember, Mommy, that's what you said. He doesn't live with us but he's still my daddy.”

“Yes,” I agreed. Ben had been pretty small when Dave and I separated, but he obviously listened to the things we had told him at that time.

“Yes,” Ben echoed with enthusiasm. "So, he should come. Mommy, you said you didn't want people to be alone on Thanks-giving. I'm not staying with Daddy this weekend, so he'll be alone if he doesn't come here. I don't want Daddy to be alone, Mommy.”

Ben was right. No one should be alone on Thanksgiving. Knowing Dave, I very much doubted he would be. It would be a little awkward having my ex-husband at dinner along with my new co-op friends, particularly if my friendship with Jeremy started to go anywhere. But he probably already had plans.

“Okay, Ben, Daddy might have to work or he might be busy. But you can ask him. Why don't you give him a call?”

Ben grabbed the phone and pushed the speed dial number for his father. I could hear him chattering to his father as I planned the menu for the Thanksgiving dinner and started preparations for tonight's meal.