Free Vi Agra Falls by Mary Daheim Page B

big news is coming up in just a few minutes. Meanwhile, I’m going to serenade you with one of my old favorites, ‘I Ain’t Got Nobody.’” She swiveled her hips and patted her bosom. “Not true, of course. Asmy darling Billy Boy will tell you, I still have plenty of body.” Her guests broke into gusts of laughter and scattered applause. Judith felt like throwing up.
    â€œHow much,” Jeanne Ericson murmured, “of that body is plastic?”
    Rochelle snickered. “I may have too much body, but it’s all mine.”
    â€œOnly my hip is artificial,” Judith asserted. “I can’t stand listening to this.” She fled into the house as Herself began to sing.
    Downing two aspirin, she leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering if she could endure going back outside. Hunger pangs were gnawing at her stomach. The neighbors always provided delicious food, though it suddenly occurred to Judith that they’d all miss Miko Swanson’s Japanese delicacies this time around. They’d also miss the older woman’s gentle kindness. At least, Judith thought with a pang, Mrs. Swanson had been spared the raucous party in the cul-de-sac.
    Finally, a few minutes before eight o’clock, she worked up the courage to rejoin the Block Watch potluck. The aspirin was easing her headache, though she was still annoyed with both Joe and Gertrude for blatantly joining Herself’s shindig.
    To Judith’s relief, the music had stopped. The bandstand had been vacated. Joe had been talking to an older man who looked vaguely familiar and might have been one of the cop-bar habitués, judging from his somewhat drunken gestures. Judith watched her husband leave the Buss celebration and walk across the cul-de-sac to join Gabe Porter, Hamish Stein, and one of the Dooleys’ grown daughters. The newlyweds from Anchorage remained on the other side of the cul-de-sac, engaged in an animated conversation with one of the waiters.
    Judith ignored Joe. She filled a paper plate with pastrami,Russian rye bread, macaroni salad, and several of Gabe’s vegetables with sides of Rochelle’s creamy herbed dip and Naomi’s zesty horseradish.
    Arlene sidled up to Judith. “If you want to give Joe a few good whacks, I’ve got my wooden spoon in the potato salad.”
    Judith sighed. “Why can’t men understand what upsets women?”
    â€œProbably because they’re men,” Arlene said. “There’s not much we can do about that. Unfortunately.”
    Judith took a bite of the pastrami, which was excellent. She was about to taste Jeanne’s macaroni salad when Herself again ascended the bandstand to the accompaniment of a drum roll. Conversations died away; guests on both sides of the cul-de-sac stopped in their tracks; only Sweetums seemed uninterested, prowling toward the Rankerses’ hedge, possibly in search of Tulip.
    â€œOld friends, new friends, buddies, and neighbors,” Vivian began, “this might as well be New Year’s Eve. This is the start of a new era, looking forward to the future. We know you’ll want to join us as we ring out the old and bring in the new.”
    â€œWhat’s she talking about?” Jeanne whispered to Judith.
    â€œI’ve no idea,” Judith replied. “She doesn’t seem drunk. But she probably is.”
    â€œâ€¦Good enough for the last century, but not for this one,” Herself continued, though Judith had missed the first part of the sentence. “Most of you know we recently purchased the house next door on the corner.” She raised a languid arm in the direction of Mrs. Swanson’s bungalow. “That little house and the one I already own are outmoded on Heraldsgate Hill. They’re the past, we’re the future. Right after Labor Day, both of these little cracker boxes will be razed…” She paused and beamed at her audience. “And in their place,