A Purse to Die For (5 page)

Now
that
was interesting.

The man glanced over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.

Holy Cats Cannoli, what
'
s going on here?

A sly smile spread across Ian
'
s face. For if there was one code
he
lived by, it was this:
k
nowledge is
p
ower.

Chapter 8

It was 6:00, cocktail time
.

"
So I want to set the record straight,
"
Carla said.

She looked around the room, staring them all in the eyes, one by one. Thanks to those singing lessons—the ones she begged for when she was a child not much older than Nellie—she
'
d learned how to hold the attention of an audience while performing.

"
Mom
'
s passing is not as surprising or as sudden as you may have been thinking to yourselves,
"
she said.
"
Mom didn
'
t want me to tell you, but…
"

She paused to give her words effect, even if she suspected by telling Becki earlier, without asking her to keep it to herself, most of the room was already up to speed.

"
…she had cancer.
"
She raised her glass.
"
Here
'
s to Mom.
May she rest in peace.
"

The room was quiet. What was wrong with everyone? They looked embarrassed. Becki was staring down at the table. Even Gina wouldn
'
t meet her eyes. So they already knew, just as she suspected.

Jerry cleared his throat.
"
Why didn
'
t you tell me before, Carla? And why didn
'
t
she
?
"

Carla went immediately on defense.
"
You know what she was like, Jerry. Never show a weakness. She only told me a week ago.
"

"
What kind of cancer?
"
This, from Linda.
"
Was it contagious?
"

There was a gasp and a chair scuffled against the floor.

"
I don
'
t know.
"
Carla heard her voice become strident.
"
She didn
'
t tell me. Some kind of internal thing. I don
'
t know.
She wasn
'
t feeling well. That w
as why she had to
 
say something. It couldn
'
t have been that far along in that she didn
'
t
 
look very sick. All I know is she didn
'
t intend to wait it out. No chemo and radiation for her, no sir.
"
Carla threw her glass of wine back and took a large swallow. She put
 
the glass down and frowned.
"
Don
'
t blame her. Lose your hair and your looks? Better to die,
"
she said grimly.

"
She should have told me,
"
Jerry grumbled.

"
Who the hell cares?
"
Reggie said.
"
She
'
s dead now. That
'
s what counts.
"

Carla turned her head away.
Shut up, Reg. Jesus Christ, shut up.

"
Now, what exactly do you mean by that?
"
Tony
'
s voice was smooth.

"
Not a thing.
"
Reg shot him a glare.
"
But dead is dead. Hardly matters how you get there.
"

Mundane chatter after this.

Jerry wondered where Mom
'
s larger-than-expected fortune might have come from. Linda wanted to know if Mom kept anything of particular value hidden away for safety
'
s sake. Nellie, Tony and Gina talked about a Rumoli game taking place tomorrow and would she like to join in? Ian huddled with Reggie by the desk, and when she looked their way, Reggie sent her one of his charming smiles. The old expression,
"
h
e could charm the pants off you
,
"
fitted him well.

Becki was quoting Albert Einstein
.
"'
Nothing will benefit human health or increase the chances for survival of life on earth as the evolution to a vegetarian diet—
'"

"
If you
'
ll excuse me,
"
Carla interrupted.
"
I
'
m just going to pop into the washroom before we go in to supper.
"

Phew!
She shut the door of the main-floor powder room and plopped down on the upholstered chair facing the pedestal sink. She grabbed a copy of
Chatelaine
from the side table and idly read the subscription information.

Fiorenza
Ferrero

123 Hawthorn Avenue

Langdon Hills
,
Ontario

She studied her reflection in the gilt mirror above the basin. She didn
'
t inherit Fiorenza
'
s dark eyes, dark hair or olive skin. But at least she, Carla Williamson, didn
'
t tout tofu or quote Einstein, like Mom
'
s can-do-no-wrong goddaughter.

She washed her hands, flicked off the light and exited.

On her way back to the library, she heard Reggie talking in the living room. Obviously on the phone. She was just about to enter the room and coax him into coming back with her when she noted his angry tone. She couldn
'
t help but overhear a sentence or two.

"
For God
'
s sake!
"
he hissed.
"
Someone already saw us once. Fine! Tonight in the alley behind the house.
"

Supper started
at 7:00. Everyone took the same spot around the dining room table as at the kitchen table for breakfast. Like a real family or something. Nellie knew that
'
s what real families did
'
cause when she went to her friend
'
s house for sleepovers, Abigail
'
s father always sat at the head of the table and her mother at the other end of the table
.
Nellie and Abigail squeezed in on one side and Abigail
'
s little brother, who was only four and a real pain in the
butt,
on the other side. That
'
s how it worked.

But at Abigail
'
s, they talked about cool things like the family
'
s trip to the zoo in Toronto, and what her and Abigail
'
s favourite cartoon was on TV, and what Mr. and Mrs. Spencer watched when they were little. Here, Nellie didn
'
t get a chance to say much of anything, and when she did, they all stared at her like she was the same age as Abigail
'
s little brother.

For example, when she demanded,
"
What
is
this?
"
She poked at her food with the tines of her fork.

"
It
'
s Tuscan
p
oached
t
ilapia with
g
reen
b
eans,
"
Ian said.

"
Tuscan?
"
Nellie asked.

"
As in Tuscany
. A
region of Italy.
"

"
Grandma was from Italy and she didn
'
t make stuff like this.
"

"
Hmmm.
"

Nobody seemed to want to discuss it.
"
What
'
s tilapia?
"
she insisted.

Mom said,
"
It
'
s fish, honey. Try it. You
'
ll like it.
"

"
Don
'
t eat fish.
"

"
I usually don
'
t, either,
"
Aunt Becki said,
"
but it
'
s good. You
'
ll see. Tomatoes, olives…I
bet even a little white wine.
"

The
wine
drew Nellie
'
s interest.

"
Your cousin Ian
'
s
a man of many talents,
"
continued Aunt Becki.

"
Like sticking his nose where it doesn
'
t belong,
"
Father said.

"
I called Karl again to explain I wasn
'
t leaving until tomorrow after all,
"
Becki said during dessert.
Why do I always feel responsible for prompting conversation?

"
Was he very upset?
"
Carla asked.

"
Oh, he never gets upset about little things like that
.
"

"
Some guys don
'
t get excited about much of anything,
"
Reggie said.

Tony shook his head.
"
I can imagine certain things get Uncle Karl riled up.
"

"
His work,
"
Becki agreed.

"
Totally dig it
,
"
Ian
said
.
"
Last
Design at Nine
makeover, we had to tear everything out and start from scratch
. I
t was such a disgrace
.
A straight man hangs a giant flat screen on the wall and thinks he
'
s Ty Pennington
.
"

Reggie
snorted.
"
At least straight guys don
'
t sing
'
Oh
,
I think a pink throw would look marvellous over there by the picture window
.
'
"

"
Just ignore Reggie,
"
Linda said.

Becki did just that
.
"
Glad to hear you
'
re not advising your viewers to run out and buy the latest in electronics
, Ian
.
"

"
Why
'
re you glad about that?
"
Linda
asked.

"
Manufacturers don
'
t need designers
'
help swamping people with product. Over 91,000 tonnes of electronics are sold every year in Ontario.
"

"
Wow!
"
Gina said.

"
And where do TVs, VCRs and CD players end up when new versions hit the market?
"
Becki asked
.

"
Landfill
,
"
Gina
replied.

"
The ugly consumer and all that,
"
Tony said.

"
Oh, don
'
t get me wrong
,
"
Becki said.
"
I
'
m a capitalist. Have my own shop and everything so I
'
m not immune to the
good life
.
"

"
Yet this afternoon,
"
Linda interrupted,
"
you were headed home before seeing the lawyer about your Piaget diamond watch and two hundred thousand dollars.
"