Mulch Ado About Nothing by Jill Churchill Page A

them said, 'Me and my wife are going on vacation next week,' " Jane put in.
    Miss Winstead shook her head sadly. "How utterly ignorant!
    Jane was glad the subject of Dr. Julie Jackson and the attack on her had been thoroughly squashed and forgotten.
    But she couldn't stop herself from wondering why Miss Winstead had been eager enough to know about the investigation to ask Jane to share Mel's progress. Jane watched as the rain diminished and chided herself for being so suspicious.
    Twelve
    Jane
was worn out from the morning and half the afternoon of traipsing around. She let herself down on the sofa and gently toppled sideways.
    “Anything you need?" Shelley asked. "Something really boring to read, so it puts me out.”
    Shelley went to the bookshelves and got down a gigantic paperback. "How about
The Arms of Krupp?"
    “
I hate to admit I liked it," Jane said. "I read it the year Todd went to kindergarten and I finally had a whole three hours a day without kids around. I'll try it again."
    “I'm starting a roast for you," Shelley said. "Don't worry, I'll be quiet." She went across the driveway to her house, got the roast, and came back. Quietly removing a pan from the cabinet, a cooking bag with seasonings, and a bit of water, she got it in Jane's oven with hardly a sound.
    Tiptoeing back to the living room, she saw that Jane was sound asleep with the book open on her chest. There was a sound in the kitchen and Shelley whirled and scurried to the door. Mike had already opened it and was dripping wet.
    “Shhh, your mom's sleeping. What happened to you?"
    “A downpour at the nursery. They sent most of the clerks home because the forecast is for more rain. I've got to get dry clothes.”
    It wasn't until he moved away that Shelley realized that Kipsy had been standing behind him. "I'll bet you're Kipsy, right?" she said. "I was just starting a roast for the Jeffrys' dinner. Sit down and have a soft drink with me while Mike's upstairs. I'm Mrs. Nowack from next door."
    “Hi, Mrs. Nowack. Mike's told me about you."
    “All good things, I'm sure," Shelley said with a smile.
    “Oh, yeah…"
    “Kipsy, I've been wanting to have a little chat with you. If you don't mind."
    “No, I guess not," Kipsy said, brushing some of the violently red bangs out of her face and taking a sip of the drink Shelley had poured.
    “I have a question for you. You must go to a lot of trouble to look as you do. And I can't help but wonder why.”
    Kipsy started to stand up in preparation for stomping out.
    Shelley put a hand on her arm. "I meant no criticism at all. I'm genuinely interested. I love to know about human nature.”
    Sullenly Kipsy lowered herself back onto the kitchen chair. "Yeah, me too."
    “Didn't all those things you've had pierced hurt a lot?" Shelley asked.
    “Not that much. They sorta numb you with a piece of ice."
    “And it doesn't hurt to wear them either?"
    “Uh-uh. Not often. The eyebrow ring sometimes gets stuck in my bangs, though, and it can be a bitch — I mean a pain to get it loose.”
    Shelley smiled supportively. "How interesting. I wonder, are you planning any changes in your appearance?"
    “I was thinking about another tattoo, but can't think where to put it."
    “The holes you've punched in yourself would probably close up if you changed your jewelry style, right?"
    “I guess so," she said in a surly manner. "But a tattoo is pretty much forever?"
    “Why do you ask?"
    “Let me ask my earlier question in another way. Are you planning to look this way when you're thirty or forty and even fifty?"
    “Fifty!" Kipsy yelped. "I'll never be fifty.”
    Shelley shook her head. "But you will, you know. How will you feel about the tattoos then?”
    Kipsy shrugged. "They'll have some way to get rid of them by that time. Laser stuff or something."
    “So you imagine you'll want to get rid of them someday?"
    “I hadn't thought about it."
    “Do.”
    Shelley topped up Kipsy's drink. "You're probably a pretty girl. I want