Vi Agra Falls by Mary Daheim

like a phoenix rising fromthe ashes, will stand a six-story, twelve-unit, glorious, beautiful, stunning condominium!”
    â€œMy God!” Jeanne gasped.
    â€œLordy, Lordy,” Rochelle muttered.
    â€œMad as a hatter,” Arlene declared angrily. “Where’s my wooden spoon? I’m going to beat some sense into that woman!”
    â€œSo,” Herself went on as her guests applauded enthusiastically, “hop on the Twenty-first Century Express for the ride of your life!” The band began to play; Vivian chimed in with a lusty, if rusty, version of “Chattanooga Choo Choo.”
    The neighbors had begun talking at once. Judith marched up to Joe, who appeared to be under attack from Ted Ericson and three of the Dooleys.
    â€œDid you know about this?” Judith demanded of her husband, dispensing with good manners for interrupting an irate Ted.
    â€œHell, no!” Joe retorted. “That’s just what I was trying to tell—”
    A commotion broke out by the bandstand. Arlene hadn’t been kidding. She was trying to get at Vivian, wielding her wooden spoon as if it were a mace. Billy Buss was trying to restrain her. The band kept playing, but Herself stopped singing and stepped backward, falling into the bass drum.
    Billy’s muscle finally overcame Arlene’s rage. She shrieked as he hauled her away from the bandstand, where the musicians had abruptly stopped the music while the drummer helped Vivian stand up. Halfway across the cul-de-sac, Billy released Arlene. Still clutching the wooden spoon, she whacked her enemy on the head. He reeled slightly just as Carl Rankers hurried to the site of the melee.
    â€œDon’t,” the usually unflappable Carl warned Billy, “ever lay a hand on my wife again! If my darling wants to whack somebody with her spoon, let her do it. That spoon belonged to her grandmother, and it’s whacked plenty of people better than you in the last hundred years!”
    Billy shot Carl a menacing look. Frankie Buss put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “C’mon, Billy, have another drink.”
    Judith glared at Joe. “And you told me to stop looking for trouble! Now what have you got to say for yourself about Herself?”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Joe said, holding his hands in front of him as if he expected either his wife or Arlene to go on the attack. “But how the hell would I know Vivian intended to build a condo?”
    â€œYou might’ve guessed she’d do something disruptive,” Judith asserted. “I just had that feeling—” She stopped, seeing Gertrude hurtling across the cul-de-sac in her wheelchair. “Mother? Have you defected from the enemy camp?” Judith asked.
    Gertrude ignored her daughter, heading for Arlene. “You okay, kiddo?” Judith heard her mother ask.
    â€œOh, great!” Clapping her hands to her temples, Judith whirled around—and bumped into Naomi Stein. “Sorry,” she apologized. “My mother must be having a loyalty crisis. All her sympathy is for Arlene, but being so ornery, she likes Vivian, too. I’m the one left out in the cold. Or the heat, in this case. Oh, damn, I’m going inside to mope!”
    â€œPoor you!” Naomi exclaimed, but her sympathy was lost on Judith, who fled toward the B&B. Shutting the front door to muffle the noise from outside, she went into the living room, grabbed the phone from the cherrywood table, and called her cousin on the other side of the hill.
    â€œWe just got back from our Block Watch party,” Renie said, answering on the second ring and sounding chipper. “They ate all of my chickens. How’d your potluck turn out?”
    â€œA disaster,” Judith said, collapsing onto one of the matching sofas. “You won’t believe what I’m going to tell you.”
    Five minutes later, Renie got a word in edgewise. “But I do believe it,” she insisted.