Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) by J. A. Menzies Page B
Authors: J. A. Menzies
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closet and grimly began to choose what she would wear.
THREE
Ellen Brodie set down the receiver and wondered whether she should kick herself. Why had she invited Hildy to come for the weekend? She barely knew the woman. Had only talked to her twice at the horticulture club meetings she’d impulsively decided to attend after moving from downtown Toronto to this mausoleum George had insisted they buy.
What did she know about gardening? Nothing! But the house she now called her home had some of the most admired gardens in the entire city. So she’d thought, naturally enough, that she ought to learn something about them.
But Hildy Reimer? Ellen was only vaguely aware of the younger woman. Knew what she looked like and that she seemed smart as a whip. And she knew a lot about flowers and such. Or maybe that was someone else she was confusing with Hildy.
She sighed. It was all so difficult. She just wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle. Of course, it was a credit to George. A smile touched her lips. Yes, it was wonderful for George. When you considered where he’d started, he had to be a genius to get where he was now. And he was so happy about it all.
So why was she so—so what? Unsettled? Out of her element? Like a small flower taken out of its hothouse and planted in a strange environment.
She was afraid she would fail, would prove somehow unworthy of George, though she knew he would be the first to call her thoughts ridiculous.
Her guests should be arriving soon. She’d expected some of them earlier, before George arrived. But now he might beat them all. Traffic would be heavy from the airport, of course, but it was impossible everywhere on a summer weekend. So nice to be out here where one never heard all the noisy city traffic. Here, there was quiet.
It was all very different.
Not that the house would be quiet once their company arrived. She shuddered slightly. Although she’d had to do quite a bit of entertaining over the years, she’d never done anything like this before. All these people in the house. Supper and the evening was one thing. But the whole weekend! She could handle the arrangements and the food and all that, but what would they talk about?
Then she relaxed. It wasn’t as if she had to be responsible for everything. Throughout their married life, George had always been there when she needed him. She would take care of the arrangements and let George worry about keeping everyone entertained. He had a knack for that and for a lot of things. Since she’d first met him at the age of fourteen, she’d leaned on George, who was only one year older, but a lot older in every other way. She could always depend on George. And their life together had been good.
Her only regret was that there hadn’t been more children. She would gladly have adopted, but for some reason George couldn’t bring himself to raise someone else’s child. Such a miracle Kendall had been born when she was thirty-six and had all but given up hope!
She hoped Kendall and Nick would arrive first, so she could have her son to herself for a few moments before the other guests arrived.
That reminded her. Where was Bart? He had eaten as though starved at lunch, then lazed around the pool for hours. At four, she had sent him to dress so he’d be ready to help with suitcases. This was one of those rare times when she regretted the lack of a butler or chauffeur, but most of the time there was simply no need for any other servants. Mrs. Winston looked after the cooking and running the house, and there was a woman who came in twice a week for cleaning. And of course the gardeners. What else did they need?
Was that a car? Oh, dear. She still had to warn Mrs. Winston about Hildy’s coming. Fortunately, Kendall’s room had twin double beds; he and Nick would have to share it. Then Hildy could have the room Mrs. Winston had readied for Nick. She hurried to open the front door.
George had pulled up in front of the house and was opening
THREE
Ellen Brodie set down the receiver and wondered whether she should kick herself. Why had she invited Hildy to come for the weekend? She barely knew the woman. Had only talked to her twice at the horticulture club meetings she’d impulsively decided to attend after moving from downtown Toronto to this mausoleum George had insisted they buy.
What did she know about gardening? Nothing! But the house she now called her home had some of the most admired gardens in the entire city. So she’d thought, naturally enough, that she ought to learn something about them.
But Hildy Reimer? Ellen was only vaguely aware of the younger woman. Knew what she looked like and that she seemed smart as a whip. And she knew a lot about flowers and such. Or maybe that was someone else she was confusing with Hildy.
She sighed. It was all so difficult. She just wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle. Of course, it was a credit to George. A smile touched her lips. Yes, it was wonderful for George. When you considered where he’d started, he had to be a genius to get where he was now. And he was so happy about it all.
So why was she so—so what? Unsettled? Out of her element? Like a small flower taken out of its hothouse and planted in a strange environment.
She was afraid she would fail, would prove somehow unworthy of George, though she knew he would be the first to call her thoughts ridiculous.
Her guests should be arriving soon. She’d expected some of them earlier, before George arrived. But now he might beat them all. Traffic would be heavy from the airport, of course, but it was impossible everywhere on a summer weekend. So nice to be out here where one never heard all the noisy city traffic. Here, there was quiet.
It was all very different.
Not that the house would be quiet once their company arrived. She shuddered slightly. Although she’d had to do quite a bit of entertaining over the years, she’d never done anything like this before. All these people in the house. Supper and the evening was one thing. But the whole weekend! She could handle the arrangements and the food and all that, but what would they talk about?
Then she relaxed. It wasn’t as if she had to be responsible for everything. Throughout their married life, George had always been there when she needed him. She would take care of the arrangements and let George worry about keeping everyone entertained. He had a knack for that and for a lot of things. Since she’d first met him at the age of fourteen, she’d leaned on George, who was only one year older, but a lot older in every other way. She could always depend on George. And their life together had been good.
Her only regret was that there hadn’t been more children. She would gladly have adopted, but for some reason George couldn’t bring himself to raise someone else’s child. Such a miracle Kendall had been born when she was thirty-six and had all but given up hope!
She hoped Kendall and Nick would arrive first, so she could have her son to herself for a few moments before the other guests arrived.
That reminded her. Where was Bart? He had eaten as though starved at lunch, then lazed around the pool for hours. At four, she had sent him to dress so he’d be ready to help with suitcases. This was one of those rare times when she regretted the lack of a butler or chauffeur, but most of the time there was simply no need for any other servants. Mrs. Winston looked after the cooking and running the house, and there was a woman who came in twice a week for cleaning. And of course the gardeners. What else did they need?
Was that a car? Oh, dear. She still had to warn Mrs. Winston about Hildy’s coming. Fortunately, Kendall’s room had twin double beds; he and Nick would have to share it. Then Hildy could have the room Mrs. Winston had readied for Nick. She hurried to open the front door.
George had pulled up in front of the house and was opening
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