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It was no surprise when a woman in the family reactedthisway.Theguywhowouldloveherandleave her usually made a discovery before he departed: the secret erogenous zone that guaranteed he’d get her into bed, fast.
But Uncle Brock, he was a different tureen of bouillabaisse. He was a man. Mary had never heard of the family lure nor the family curse descending on a male.
She had to think again.
The tool of slavery for Mary’s mother, and now Mary, had been a scent that promised the sharing of souls. As though that weren’t bad enough, Mary had a second one. Her earlobe, a more traditional one in her family tree.
She was glad her big toe did nothing for her at all.
Wouldn’tthefamilygointoanuproarifUncleBrock brought Cyn home to dinner in bedroom slippers, so tospeak?Didthedoomedromancepartofthefamily curse apply to males anyway? How would Van take her uncle’s mad passion for his aunt? Would it last long enough for him to even notice? So many men were oblivious to this kind of thing.
Mary hurt for her much-loved uncle, but Cyn was probably sowing a few fields full of wild oats before she let Van yoke her to an appropriate man. She and Uncle Brock had nothing in common, even if the curse didn’t condemn them.
Oh well. If the misery will happen anyway, make sureyouenjoythefunandgamesbeforehand,right?
Uncle Brock and Cyn were certainly doing that.
Had Van even noticed that? Maybe not. Thunderclouds transforming his face, he was fixated on the dogs and the professor. Van claimed he wanted glorious artistic solitude, no messy entanglements with people. Now it seemed canines triggered his protective streak too.
He snapped his fingers at Guinevere. Reluctantly, she hauled herself up off the professor and moved toward Van. Lancelot followed. The chef’s hat snagged on his collar and dragged at his side, coming perilously close to tripping him up. At least he didn’t have too far to fall to the ground.
Van grabbed the professor by pieces of his dress shirt and tuxedo and hoisted him high enough to leave his feet dangling.
Mary spared a moment to admire the muscles it took to do that.
“You tried to kick a dog,” Van roared.
“Oh, no. I — ”
“You tried to kick a poor, helpless little dog.”
“Little? That behemoth — ”
“Wasprotectingherpoor,helplesslittlefriend.And I will too. If I ever catch you — ”
Van shook his fists, and they shook the professor. It was too much for dress shirt and tuxedo. Buttons popped. Cloth ripped. The professor, now in tatters, slithered out of Van’s grasp and dropped to the floor. On hands and knees, he scuttled for cover.
“Oh, no you don’t, you cowardly weasel!”
Mary glanced at Uncle Brock and Cynthia. They were still — busy.
Mary figured she should try to deflect Van from his mission to turn the professor into mincemeat. Not that she wanted to. But the courts and blind Lady Justice might not judge it a case of justifiable homicide.
Besides, this was her fault. She shouldn’t have let Cyn close the fiancé investigation before Mary was sure of her facts.
The men tumbled through the kitchen door, and it jammed open. The chase was on.
She calculated Van’s trajectory, allowing for the obstacles he had to detour around. Yes, she could do it. She was famous for her speed in her soccer league. If she tore into Van’s path and connected with him right at the chaise longue over near the pool, she should have time to drag his attention toward herself before he barreled right through the chaise and by accident flattened her too.
So that’s where she planted herself, arms akimbo to increase her visual size, which with any luck would help him see past his haze of murderous rage. “Stop,” she hollered. “Right there.”
Whew. He did. His heels probably left skid marks, and he wasn’t happy about it. “Aww, Mary, let me tear off just one foot, the one he was using to try to kick Lancelot.”
Maybe she should let him do it.
“Oh, Professor!” Hattie Gilmour called out as Mary wrestled with her dilemma. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
When Mrs. Gilmour was looking for you, you tried nottobefound.Hervoicealone—You’dratherlisten to a tone-deaf two-year-old learning how to play the violin.
