Page 83 of Now or Never

“And then Herbert started screaming and Zoran sort of backed up, and Herbert slammed the door shut and locked it. Then Herbert ran into the kitchen and fainted. Crash. Onto the floor.”

“This happened yesterday?”

“Yep.”

“When were you planning on telling me this?”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

“I’m afraid to even ask you about Bruno Jug.”

“Not a problem there,” I said. “He’s a big sweetie pie. He gives me fruit baskets.”

My sister, Valerie, lives in a large colonial in Hamilton Township. She has four kids, and she’s married to a sweet but clueless lawyer named Albert Kloughn.

Valerie was always the perfect little girl, and I was always the kid who tried to fly off the garage roof and broke her arm. We aren’t sure how we fit into our parents’ perception now. We’re just trying to get through the days as best we can. Valerie very nicely volunteered her house for Stella’s party, and I suspected she was already regretting it. Stella is actually mygreat-aunt on my father’s side and she’s a couple cans short of a case. She lives in an assisted-living community with her husband, Marty. It’s suspected that Marty might have Alzheimer’s, but for as long as anyone has known Marty, he hasn’t been able to find his keys or figure out how to exit a parking lot. So, it’s difficult to diagnose exactly what’s wrong with Marty. The thing is, now that they’re in their eighties, surely there has to besomethingwrong with them other than just being annoying.

The driveway was filled with cars, and cars were lined up in front of the house. Morelli parked behind the last car in line and looked at me.

“Do we really want to do this?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “We’ll say happy birthday, give her the present, grab a couple pigs in a blanket, and leave. It’s a big party. No one will notice we’re gone.”

He leaned over and sniffed at me. “You smell like s’mores.”

“It’s smoke damage from the fire.”

“I like it.”

“Me too. It makes me want to go camping.”

“We could go camping on our honeymoon,” Morelli said. “We could get a pop-up tent and sleep under the stars.”

“Not nearly,” I said. “I’m not a tenter. I’m more a motorhomer. The bigger the better. Something with state-of-the-art plumbing and a comfy bed. It should also be bug-and-snake-free.”

“Maybe you’re more a hotel-resort type,” Morelli said.

I was thinking with our schedules we were more of a “no honeymoon at all” type.

We let ourselves in and I took stock of the room. Lots of people I didn’t know. Lots of old people. Valerie’s kid, Mary Alice, galloped past me, toward the kitchen.

“Looks like she still thinks she’s a horse,” Morelli said.

“Not always,” I said. “Sometimes she’s a reindeer.”

I followed Mary Alice and found Valerie in the kitchen.

“Hiding?” I asked her.

“There’s no place to hide in this house. These people are everywhere. Someone is upstairs taking a nap in my bed.”

“Where did they all come from? Are we related to any of these people?”

“I didn’t make up the guest list but I’m sure we’re related to some of them. The rest came in a bus from the senior living complex.”

I set my purse and Stella’s present on the kitchen counter. “That explains a lot. Are Grandma and Grandpa Plum here?”

“No. They’re in Florida,” Valerie said. “They said they’re saving their airplane allowance for when there’s a hurricane. Otherwise, they’re not coming back to Jersey.”

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