Moving Can Be Murder Read Free Page B

fiancée practically left him standing at the altar.
We decided that if we live close to each other, we’ll have a chance
to get to know each other better. You know what I’m talking about,
right? More privacy? But we’ll each have our own place to go back
to if we want to.” She flushed a little as she explained this to
me.
    Heck, I knew what she was talking about. My
Beloved and I had been young once, too. I’d heard this arrangement
referred to on one of the talk shows recently as “neighbors with
benefits.”
    “When can I see it, honey?” I asked,
recovering my composure and showing the hoped-for enthusiasm. “When
did you say you’re moving in? Do you have to paint first? How does
that work with a condo?”
    Oh, stupid me. “I just realized. Mark will
be the one to help you with all this.”
    “Don’t be silly, Mom. Of course I want you
to see it, as soon as we can get in. It’s rented now, but the
tenant is moving out at the end of next week. And you know I’ll
depend on you for decorating advice. Men aren’t so good at that
kind of stuff. Even Mark.
    “We’ll make a date and go over as soon as we
can. Now, I’m going to break the news to Dad.”
    I sure hoped Jim took it well. Jenny was the
apple of his eye. Not that he didn’t love Mike. But there’s
something about men and their daughters. Their little girls. It was
hard for My Beloved to see Jenny grow up.
    I had to hand it to my sensible daughter,
though. This idea of living “together but separately” made a lot of
sense. I briefly wondered if our marriage would perk up, recapture
some of that old zing, if each of us had our own private space.
Despite the fact that our house was large, now that Jim was retired
and home more, we often seemed to be occupying the exact same place
at the exact same time.
    All of a sudden, I had a brilliant thought.
Wouldn’t it be fabulous if My Beloved and I each had our own master
bedroom suite? Hmm. I wondered if those active adult communities
Jim was researching had two master suites.
    Maybe this was worth pursuing. We could each
have our own space – mine extremely neat, My Beloved’s extremely
messy – and neither of us would intrude on the other’s. Wow! Just
think of the arguments we wouldn’t be having – “Carol, I put my car
keys on the dresser. Did you touch them? Damn it, I hate it when
you move my things.”
    “Jim, can you puleeze pick up your dirty
socks and throw them in the hamper? Is that too much to ask? A
little common courtesy? If your poor dead mother could see what a
slob you are, she’d be shocked.” And be fed up, as I was, with
picking up after him.
    Wait a minute. What was the matter with me?
Was I actually considering the “M” word too? Well, what could it
hurt if I were to take a quick peek at Jim’s retirement
magazine?
    Just to improve my knowledge.
    In case anyone asked my opinion.
     

     
    While Jenny was talking to Jim, I finished
cleaning up in the kitchen. My Beloved had left his new magazine on
the hall table, so I scooped it up and put it away in the cutlery
drawer for a private read after he went to bed. I didn’t want to
answer any questions about my sudden interest in it. Especially in
case what I saw really turned me off.
    I heard low voices in the family room, then
laughter. It sounded like all was going well for Jenny. At least
Jim wasn’t raising his voice and telling her he thought her plan
made no sense. I knew he liked Mark, and if he had to give up his
little girl, which was inevitable, at least it would be to someone
we both knew and trusted.
    Not that that mattered, of course. I was
smart enough to know that parents can object to a grown child’s
decision, but keeping mum is the best tack to take most of the
time. We were lucky our kids let us know what was going on in their
lives most of the time. So many kids these days didn’t.
    Since the coast seemed to be clear, I
carefully eased the cutlery drawer open and retrieved the magazine.
I