Free Mulch ado about nothing by Jill Churchill Page A

I’m afraid.“
    “How fascinating. You landed on your foot, I guess.“
    “No, actually a tree broke my fall, but I got the foot caught in a crotch of the tree and had to hang there upside down for ages before someone got me down.“
    “I can’t wait to tell my husband this,“ the woman said. “He thinks hang gliding sounds like fun.“
    “Elephants, now hang gliding,“ Shelley muttered as they took a table.
    “But she enjoyed the story,“ Jane said. “I hate to disappoint people.”
    Miss Martha smiled broadly. “I admire your imagination. How did you really do it?“
    “Tripped over a curbing,“ Jane admitted. “At Julie Jackson’s house.“
    “What were you doing there? Are you friends of hers?“
    “We barely know her,“ Shelley explained. “Some flowers for her were accidently delivered to Jane, who has the same address but a different street name, and we were taking them over to where they belonged.”
    They ordered their drinks and looked over the list of what was on today’s buffet. Shelley asked Miss Winstead if she knew Julie Jackson.
    “Not well,“ Miss Winstead said. “Years ago she occasionally did some research at the library, but most often, I suppose, she used the university facilities. I haven’t laid eyes on her for years. Now research is at the tip of the fingers for anyone who knows how to search the Internet. Especially for scientific or government publications.“
    “What, exactly, is her job?“ Shelley asked.
    “She’s a microbiologist, it says in the brochure for the class,“ Jane said. “Do either of you know what that is?”
    Neither Shelley nor Miss Winstead could define the job.
    “What did Geneva tell you about Ms. Jackson’s condition?“ Jane asked Shelley.
    “Not much to report. Stable, but not improving noticeably.“
    “That sounds like a bad thing,“ Jane said. “If she were going to improve, I’d think they’d see some progress by now.”
    Shelley shook her head. “Her sister said it was normal considering the blow. The brain just needs to rest awhile, she thinks. They’ve done all sorts of tests—X rays and sonograms and such—and there doesn’t seem to be a blood clot or increased swelling. Geneva says this is a good sign.“
    “Miss Winstead... ?“ Jane said hesitantly. “You seemed to be indicating earlier that you were related to Dr. Eastman and not happy about it. Would it be too nosy to ask why?“
    “Not at all. I wouldn’t have said anything if I considered it a secret. I knew him when we were both young and in college. We dated for a while, but it wasn’t a match made in heaven, as they say. I was too smart and independent even then for him. But the last event we attended together was a big family dinner at my grandmother’s. My cousin Edwina was there. People were always mistaking us for each other, we looked so much alike. Edwina was the dearest girl. Not quite as simple-minded as single-minded. She wanted nothing of life but to be a wife and mother. Not at all like me or young women today. Very old-fashioned.“
    “You were fond of her,“ Jane said.
    “I was. I couldn’t understand or agree with Edwina’s thinking, but admired her sense of knowing her purpose in life. I was still trying to figure out whether I wanted to be Amelia Earhart or Eleanor Roosevelt or Joan of Arc. She was perfect for Stewart Eastman. We were both pretty girls, but he wanted a compliant, domestic wife, not a bright one. They were married a year after they met.”
    She paused and drew a breath. “Let’s get our food and I’ll tell you the rest while we eat, if you’re interested. “ She scooted out of the booth and went to look over the food. Shelley handed Jane her crutches and said under her breath, “I don’t think this is going to be a story of unrequited love. Come along and show me what you want and I’ll fill your plate.“
    “Why? The plate, I mean.“
    “Have you not noticed yet that you have both hands busy with the crutches?