An Uplifting Murder by Elaine Viets Page B

been so stupid about Nate,” Josie said. “I was so in love, I never bothered to see the real Nate. I didn’t ask where his money came from. I was thrilled when I found out I was pregnant with Amelia. I was all set to tell him the news, so we could get married.”
     
    “Except that never happened,” Alyce said. She sipped her coffee and listened to a story she already knew. Alyce was a good listener.
     
    “No,” Josie said. “Nate was arrested for drug dealing when he went home to Canada. He went to prison and I became a single mom. I didn’t see him for nine years. I told Amelia that her father’s helicopter had been shot down in the war. I lied.”
     
    “You lied for your mother’s sake,” Alyce said. “You had to. This is an old-fashioned neighborhood. The church ladies would have made your mother miserable when they found out you were never married.”
     
    “Fat lot of good it did,” Josie said. “Nate showed up on our doorstep last year, alive, drunk, and looking for trouble. I was so afraid, Alyce. The whole time he was in St. Louis, I thought he would run off to Canada with Amelia. It’s a terrible thing to say, but I’m glad he’s dead.”
     
    “At least you didn’t marry him,” Alyce said.
     
    “Amelia never saw his bad side,” Josie said. “He was the ideal father the few times he was around her and I’m glad for her sake. When he was dying, Nate told Amelia that he loved her. She lost her father, but gained a wonderful Canadian grandfather. He helped Amelia through the dark time after Nate’s death.”
     
    “Amelia is strong, like her mother,” Alyce said. “She seems her old self again.”
     
    “She isn’t, not quite,” Josie said. “She’s more serious. But she’s made a good recovery. I knew Amelia was getting better when she wanted a cat. She fought for that animal. Amelia chose Harry because he looked like the cat Nate had when he was a boy.”
     
    “And thanks to Harry the cat, you met your hunk of a vet,” Alyce said. “That man is a good match for you.”
     
    “I hope so,” Josie said. “I’ve made some bad ones. But it’s too soon for matchmaking.”
     
    The conversation died in awkward silence. Alyce took another bite of marble cake. “This almost makes up for the terrible morning with Frankie and the detectives. Your daughter is turning into a real cook.”
     
    “She’s also turning into a real woman,” Josie said. “I’m going to take Amelia to Desiree Lingerie for her first bra.”
     
    “Already?” Alyce asked. “She’s only ten.”
     
    “And well developed,” Josie said.
     
    “I hate that word,” Alyce said. “It makes women sound like photographs.”
     
    “I’m glad my girl takes after her grandmother. Amelia won’t be flat-chested like I was at her age.”
     
    “Being busty is not a reason to rejoice,” Alyce said. “I was a C-cup at age twelve. The boys would stare at my chest, or yell ‘Great knockers!’ when I walked down the hall. I hated that line from Young Frankenstein . If any teachers were around, the boys would make a big show of pretending they were talking about the school doors.”
     
    “Little pigs,” Josie said.
     
    “I started walking with my shoulders hunched. I held my books against my chest to hide my breasts.”
     
    “Boys couldn’t get by with that behavior now, could they?” Josie asked. Her encounter with Frankie had revived old, unpleasant memories. “I want to protect my daughter from snotty remarks by the kids at school.”
     
    “Can any mother protect her child from that pain?” Alyce said. “We had to put up with mean girls—and mean boys.”
     
    “No point giving the meanies extra ammunition,” Josie said. “I want Amelia fitted for a bra before kids start making ugly comments. She’ll get a real bra, not the ugly white training bra I had. My daughter will wear something pretty.”
     
    “Victoria’s Secret has pretty bras,” Alyce said.
     
    “Uh, not that