Loco Motive by Mary Daheim Page A

mega-lies!”
    â€œDon’t you start in on me,” Judith warned. “Renie’s already done that. It’s not my fault Mike and Kristin showed up for the weekend without notice. Mother should’ve mentioned it sooner, but if I’d had the courage to tell her about the trip, she might’ve told them their timing was bad.”
    Joe snorted. “It’d be like her not to tell them just to be ornery.” Judith glared at her husband from over the neck of the sweater she was pulling off. “Mother isn’t always mean.”
    Joe feigned bewilderment. “Maybe it’s just me.”
    â€œMaybe it is.” She placed her sweater on top of the dresser. “I’ve given up on either of you making peace.”
    â€œYou might as well,” Joe said. “I figure contention is one of the things that keeps the old girl going.”
    â€œCould be.” Judith stepped out of her slacks. “Feistiness has its benefits.”
    â€œI think she’s lived so long because God doesn’t want her.” Joe closed his book and set it on the nightstand. “Are you really tired?”
    â€œYes,” Judith snapped. “It’s been a long and…” She paused, staring at Joe’s mischievous expression. “Maybe I’m not that tired.”
    He reached out to take her hand and draw her closer to the bed. “Let’s see if I can perk you up.”
    Moving into the circle of his arms, Judith smiled. “You always could.” She sighed softly. “You always will.”
    â€œGood,” Joe said, burying his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder. “After all, we’re still making up for lost time.”
    Â 
    D uring the night the rain and wind stopped, but by morning, fog had settled in over the hill. The little boys were sleeping in, having been worn out by the previous day’s activities. Mike and Kristin came down to the kitchen shortly before eight. Judith had just returned from taking her mother’s breakfast to the toolshed. She’d considered breaking the news about the Boston trip to Gertrude, but changed her mind at the last minute. It wasn’tjust putting up with the old lady’s predictable complaints about her daughter abandoning her for such a long time, but that her mother would blab the news to Mike and Kristin.
    The early part of the morning was typically busy. Kristin volunteered to help with the guests’ breakfast. Judith accepted the offer, but pointed out that the menu was already planned. Kristin could help by setting up the serving area in the dining room. Judith sensed that her daughter-in-law was put off by the request. Having quickly accomplished the task, Kristin remarked that the curtains in the family quarters needed washing. Judith hadn’t argued, but Phyliss pitched a fit.
    â€œYour son’s wife should keep her nose out of my business,” she griped as the Alaskan quartet and the Tennessee couple were finishing their meal. “I’ve got a system and a schedule. Those curtains shouldn’t be washed until the third week of November. Come next May, everything will be higgly-piggly.”
    â€œLet her do it. Kristin isn’t happy unless she’s busy,” Judith said, not without sympathy for Phyliss.
    â€œThen she ought to be all smiles, which is more than I can say for some of your paying guests. From what I’ve seen of them this morning, they’re a grumpy bunch. Too much noise during the night. Maybe Miss Know-It-All was running the vacuum in the wee small hours.”
    â€œIt was probably the wind.” Judith cocked an ear in the direction of the dining room.
    â€œThe Canadians just came downstairs. I should greet them.”
    Right behind the Gauthiers was Libby Pruitt, a Northwestern University lit professor on sabbatical. Judith hadn’t been able to visit much with Ms. Pruitt, who’d checked in late Tuesday and was due to check