Free Motherhood Is Murder by Diana Orgain

laughed. “Well, I want Hank and Albert to be able to reach me.”
“My mom, the female Casanova!”
“A regular man-eater,” Mom giggled. “Oh. I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving. Should we have it at my place?”
Normally, we had Thanksgiving at my house. Jim did a mean turkey. He put the effort in to brine it, and it paid off every year. We started hosting as soon as we bought our house because Mom’s poor turkey was always dry.
“Uh. Your place? No, no! We can do it here, like usual.”
“Yes, but Laurie is so small and Thanksgiving is so much work. It might be easier to do it here.”
I recalled the last year Mom had hosted, she had barred me from entering the kitchen and in an accusatory manner had said, “You’re going to tell me the turkey is dry.”
When I had asked, “Why would I say that?”
She had replied, “Because the turkey is dry.”
I wrestled for an inoffensive way to decline Mom’s invite. “I’m sure Jim wants to do it here. He loves hosting Thanksgiving. It’s our favorite holiday.” And before she could get a word in edgewise, I said, “How are you going to juggle it though with Hank and Albert? Who are you going to invite?”
Mom laughed. “Oh, see I got lucky on that one. Hank is flying back East to join one of his daughters. So I’m free to ask Albert.”
“Great. Ask him to join us here, what, around four P.M.?”
Laurie’s whimper turned into a howl.
“I have to go, Mom, Laurie is completely soaked.”
“Okay. I’ll see you when I get back from the Mexican Riviera.”
“What? Wait. I thought you weren’t going until the fifteenth!”
“I’m not but that’s the day after tomorrow and I need to pack and have my beauty rest before I go.”
“The fifteenth. Wow. Time flies. My little mongoose will be two months on the nineteenth.”
“I’ll bring her back some maracas.”
Had two months almost passed? I kissed Laurie’s soft fuzzy head, then changed her diaper and pulled the child development book off my shelf. I quickly turned to the chapter on the second month. I skimmed through it, realizing I was holding my breath.
A box entitled “May Possibly” stated that holding the head up at a 90-degree angle was something an infant may possibly do at 2 ź months. So about 10 weeks.
Yeah. Laurie wasn’t behind!
I was a success as a mom!
My squirrel was right on track. I did a little jig with Laurie.
I held her up and positioned her so her face was looking down at me and her legs were tilting up.
“You’re right on track, bunny girl. Practically a genius!”
She gave me the “scary eye” look, irises pointing down with the whites of the eyes towering above.
I hugged her to me. “Okay, you’re practically a genius but not when you give me that look. Let’s go on a stakeout! You can use your supergroovy eyes and help mommy see any monkey business.”
It was almost four thirty. I would have to hightail it out of the house in order to catch Alan leaving his office.
I packed Laurie into the car along with plenty of diapers, a change of clothes in case her diaper leaked again, and water for me. I wanted to pack snacks, but how was I ever going to lose any weight doing that?
I parked down the street from Alan’s office and waited. It looked as though the building had only one entrance and exit. No attached parking garage that he could sneak out from. After about fifteen minutes I was rewarded by Alan leaving and locking up the storefront. He was accompanied by a woman with short gray hair. They exchanged words and departed in different directions.
I watch Alan walk down the street. I assumed he was heading to his car, but I didn’t want to lose track of him. I needed binoculars.
How could I be a legitimate PI without binoculars?
Through the rearview mirror I glanced at Laurie in her car seat. Her tiny face was reflected in the Elmo mirror pinned to the backseat. She was sound asleep. I started the car and nosed out of my spot.
Alan was climbing into a silver Lexus. I hesitated in pulling out of my parking space as I wanted to