Silence Of The Hams by Jill Churchill Page A

it.”
    Jane sighed. “That’s the real problem, isn’t it? Why would anybody take a chance like that? It really had to be a spur-of-the-moment thing to do. It’s too dumb to be anything else. Or we’re too dumb to see the truth.“
    “Stick your turkey in the oven and take your nap,“ Shelley said as she got up and rinsed out her coffee cup. “Maybe your subconscious will work out the answer.“
    “You’ve got a lot more faith in my subconscious than I do.“
    “I have no faith whatsoever in your subconscious, but if you try to serve your mother-in-law an undercooked turkey breast, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

    The turkey was a great success. So was the dressing, the mashed potatoes, the gravy, and the corn casserole. In fact, Thelma Jeffry couldn’t find anything to complain about except that cranberry sauce gave her a rash. “Then don’t eat any, Grandma,“ Todd suggested sensibly.
    Jane’s honorary uncle Jim, a former army officer and lifelong friend of her parents, was there, too, standing in for them. And he was as proud of Mike as a real grandfather. Jane’s brother-in-law Ted was there as well, doing his best to be a substitute dad. Ted’s wife, Dixie Lee, presented Mike with an envelope containing a surprisingly generous check, and Jane’s sister Marty, with her instinctive bad timing, called just as they started eating to wish Mike a great graduation.
    “It’s too bad your parents couldn’t make it here for the big day,“ Thelma said as they were finishing up what everyone agreed was the best cherry cobbler Jane had ever made.
    Mike, recognizing this as the sly criticism it was meant to be, fluffed up like an offended rooster. “Grumps is halfway around the world and they’re hosting a diplomatic meeting that’s been planned for two years.“
    “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply—”
    Jane had to start clearing the table to hide her smile.
    “Gotta go, Mom. Everybody,“ Mike said.
    “Mike! You’re not wearing Bermuda shorts to graduate, are you?“ Jane exclaimed.
    “It doesn’t make any difference. We’re all wearing those silly long black dresses anyway, and the party after graduation is casual.”
    When Mike had gone, twirling his cap and carrying the hated gown as if it were a lab experiment gone wrong, Thelma said to Katie, “When I graduated from high school, we wore long white gowns and carried roses. It was girls’ school—”
    While Thelma told her story, which Jane feared would make Katie think going to an exclusive private school might be fun, Jane and Uncle Jim finished clearing the table.
    “Sorry your folks aren’t here, honey?“ he said as he rinsed the dishes and handed them to her to put in the dishwasher.
    “Not at all. We’ve got you,“ she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.
    “You’ve raised a good boy, Janey.“
    “I’ve had a lot of help. And if you say one more nice thing, I’ll burst into tears and have to be led, sobbing uncontrollably, to the graduation. I’m having a real sappy week.”

9

    The graduation was marvelous. It had all the sentimentality such occasions deserved. The valedictorian gave a talk that relied much too heavily on a thesaurus and was virtually incomprehensible, but had the virtue of relative brevity. The school orchestra, even without the seniors playing, did a more than credible “Pomp and Circumstance.“ A local minister gave a short inspirational talk that managed to suggest prayer without actually indulging in it. The teacher who read the graduates’ names had done her job well, and as far as Jane could tell, didn’t mispronounce a single one. She even breezed through the exchange students easily.
    The graduates all looked beautiful, even the oily-haired, pimpled ones. It was that kind of event.
    Todd was bored senseless; Katie was enthralled; Thelma watched like a hawk for glitches and found precious little to criticize. Mel, who met them at the stadium at the last moment, merely looked glad to sit down.