with a little smirk as the cousins went back out to the deck. âShe married Joe, didnât she?â
Judith ignored the remark. âEven if they build something decent,â she said after taking a sip of lemonade, âthink of all the construction. Thatâs going to turn everything upside-down at the B&B. Guests donât come to Hillside Manor to be awakened at seven in the morning by heavy trucks and concrete mixers. And donât start me on parking places or peaceful neighborhoodstrolls, or the wretched eyesore that will be right outside our front door. Damn!â She banged her fist hard on the patio chairâs arm. âI knew Herself would bring nothing but trouble!â
âYou may be exaggerating,â Renie said, trying to sound reasonable. âBoth Herself and Mrs. Swansonâs houses are small, and so are their yards. They look as if they were constructed by the same builder. Is my memory failing even more than I thought, or wasnât there a third house just like the other two?â
âYou mean next to Herselfâs place, where the Ericsons live?â Judith nodded. âYes. They tore that one down about the same time I moved back home after Dan died. But Ted Ericson is an architect, and although their home is more modern, he was able to hurry along the builders and the rest of the workmen. Our house and the Rankersesâ are the two oldest ones in the cul-de-sac. They were put up about the same time, almost a hundred years ago. As I recall, the homes where the Porters and the Steins live were built in the mid-twenties, or even a little later. But none of our houses seem out of place, at least now that Iâve gotten used to the Ericsonsâ sharp angles and so much glass. Theyâve fenced in their front yard, and all their plantings have matured to soften the appearance.â
âYes,â Renie agreed. âThe exterior has weathered well, too.â
The cousins sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching a hummingbird zip from the camellia bush to the cedar tree and taking in the view to the east, where the mountains were silhouetted against the bright blue sky. The Jonesesâ lot was a block wide, with their garage on the street that ran past the back of the house.
âSomeday,â Renie said ruefully, âthis house will be a teardown, too. The double lot is probably worth more than the house. Worse yet, I assume this block is zoned for condos, since weâve already got them across the street out front.â
âBut theyâre rather modest in size,â Judith pointed out. âIâll bet Herself will put in a swimming pool.â
âAnd fill it with gin?â Renie grimaced. âDonât look for trouble, Coz.â
âI try not to,â Judith said in woeful tone, âbut I have a feeling itâs coming my way.â
Renie didnât argue.
Â
W hen Judith got home later that afternoon, she went over to see Arlene and Carl. They were in the backyard, sitting under an old pear tree and watching their Boston terrier, Tulip, chase a tennis ball.
âWell?â Judith said. âDo you know anything more than what Joe passed on to me?â
Arlene shook her head. âI went to see Mrs. Swanson after Cathy called me about the house sale. Unfortunately, Mrs. Swanson was on her way to her daughterâs to make plans about the move. Then I tried to call on Vivian. Weâd gotten a letter for someone at that address. A substitute carrier left it in our mailbox.â She frowned. âIs that Spanish girlâs last name Agra?â
âSheâs not Spanish,â Judith replied, âsheâs Hispanic, and her last name is Vasquez. Nobody named Agra ever lived at that address.â
Arlene shrugged. âWith the post office, who knows? Anyway, this girl who looks like she might be Spanish told me that her employers had gone to an appointment about the sale. I donât