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Mrs. Kazinski hummed a few bars of the old Rolling Stones hit for good measure.
Cyn examined Mary, while Mary seethed. “That’s definitely a beautiful, blooming blush,” Cyn opined.
“Good. Then we take this little intervention of ours a little further.”
“We do not,” Mary said.
“Now, Mary,” Cyn said. “Van’s miserable and look at you. You’re miserable too. You don’t really think we’re not going to interfere, do you?”
“GetonwithitsoIcanfinishignoringyou,andthen let me go,” Mary snapped.
“Okay, we will,” Cyn said.
Mrs. Kazinski pinned Mary with a look. “Continue it is. So tell me, did he sleep around?”
Mary gaped.
“Ithinkthat’sano.”Mrs.Kazinskitappedherfinger on her chin. “Women’s jaws don’t drop if their men have done ’em dirt in that particular way. Their jaws are too busy wagging about what they’ll do to the — er — gentleman when they catch him.”
“You’re right.” Cyn nodded enthusiastically. “Heaven knows the dear boy did have a parade of women worthy of the Fourth of July in and out of his bedroom back in the day, but I think it was serial monogamy even then.”
“Agreed, then,” Mrs. Kazinski said. “We can move on to the next item.”
Shegesturedtowardthedogs.“LancelotandGuinevere managed to work around their differences quite nicely. Look at them, curled up so happily there around their children. Their size alone created quite an obstacle to their true love. But do you hear Lancelot complaining his soul mate is — what? — several times his size? What is the matter with you and Van, Mary? You don’t have the sense these two dogs have?”
Mary was mesmerized by Mrs. Kazinski’s finger, which shook to emphasize every word the older woman said. Through the fog, Mrs. Kazinski’s question slowly penetrated. Things sounded so different when she put them that way.
Before Mary could figure out an answer, Mrs. Kazinski barreled on in a voice volume perfectly suitedtocallingoutbingonumbersonabusySunday night at the church.
“Item number four,” she boomed. She hooked a forefinger on one hand around the ring finger on the other, and bent the latter backward to count her item.Emphatically.Soemphaticallysheyelped,then stuck the injured finger into her mouth to make it better.
She mumbled around her finger, “Was what he did do so awful?”
“We’re not saying he shouldn’t have been able to cope — ” Cyn started to say.
“ — but really,” Mrs. Kazinski chimed in, “I suppose we do have to acknowledge the puppies were safer in the kennel, at least until Van’s new digs were puppy-proofed. Even Lancelot and Guinevere weren’tabletokeepthemoutofdangerousmischief, as it turned out.”
“Item number five.” Cyn slipped her forefinger under Mary’s chin to swing her head back in Cyn’s direction. “Something’s going on with that boy. I don’t know for sure what it is or how and why it has sandbagged him, but I think it has something to do with a dog he had as a boy. I think all of us who love him need to cut him some slack, give him a chance to work it all out, be there when he needs us and leave him alone sometimes if that’s what he needs.”
Mary stared at her, numb. When Cyn put it that way …
“I’m not saying it’s easy to do that,” Cyn added, “but wouldn’t you appreciate it if someone did it for you? Does he deserve to have it done for him?”
Well …
Mrs. Kazinski picked up her purse and dropped it back on Mary’s lap while taking the floor once more. Mary winced, but swiveled to look at Mrs. Kazinski.
“Why haven’t you done that? Could you be living a self-fulfilling prophecy? I know about your family’s sad history, Mary. Could you be making sure you lose your man too, so you fit in with the rest of your family?”
“He isn’t perfect — ” Cyn said.
“ — but are you perfect?” Mrs. Kazinski asked.
Dizzy by now from looking back and forth at each lecturing woman in turn, Mary shook her head.
“What are you going to do about it?” Cyn and Mrs. Kazinski asked in chorus.
Chapter Forty-Three
