Pretty is as Pretty Dies: Myrtle Clover #1

Chapter Two

A gnome village miraculously mushroomed overnight in Myrtle's yard while Red slept. Ceramic gnome characters, all engaged in a variety of cute activities, graced her front lawn. Elaine walked past her kitchen window. She blinked. "Oh Lord. Your mom's called out the gnome patrol, Red. What did you do?"

"What?" Red pushed the curtain aside. He groaned and pressed his hands against his eyes, hoping when he opened them the image of a hundred ceramic gnomes cluttering his mother's yard across the street would have vanished. He was disappointed.

"Red, what did you do to your mother?" asked Elaine. Displaying her gigantic gnome collection in her front yard was Myrtle's favorite way of expressing her displeasure with her son. "It must have taken her all night to drag all those things out of the shed. She could have broken her neck!"

Red turned back around to face the narrowed eyes of his wife, lampooning him with visual darts. "Nothing! I didn't do..." He stopped. "I signed her up for Women of the Church and Altar Guild."

"I thought you said that was her idea!"

"She's bored again, Elaine, and you know that means trouble."

"She's won't be all that bad," demurred Elaine.

"She won't? Remember when she wrote the blistering editorial to the Charlotte Observer?"

"Which one?" asked Elaine.

"That's what I mean! She goes off half-cocked on some random topic and gets everybody all stirred up."

"Well, we don't live in Charlotte anyway. It's not like people are snickering at us behind our backs at the Piggly Wiggly."

"She's caused plenty of trouble here, too, you know. Remember the uncivil unrest she sparked at Greener Pastures Retirement Home?" demanded Red.

Elaine did. Once when Myrtle visited a friend there, she'd spearheaded a protest against the assigned seating in the dining hall. "At your age you should sit where you please," she'd sniffed. This spawned hurt feelings from those happy with their seating assignments and indignation from those who wanted to sit where they chose. They had to bring in the Methodist minister to mediate.

Red sighed. "Whenever she has too much time on her hands, she worries over the little things in life."

Elaine guiltily remembered her hours obsessing on Jack's sippy cup problem.

"She'll meddle in other people's business-organize sit-ins to protest late garbage pick-up...who knows what she might do with a lot of extra time on her hands? She could use that extra time for the community good." Red rationalized.
"Arranging flowers in the sanctuary?"

Red knew he wouldn't win this one. Plus, Elaine looked like she was working herself up into a real snit-one that might carry over into their chicken pot pie supper that evening. Or their "American Idol" snuggling-up-time on the sofa together. Or even...

"What do you want me to do?" he pleaded, palms held up in supplication.

"Apologize to your mother. Send those gnomes packing-before people really do snicker at us at the Piggly Wiggly."

Red picked up the cordless phone, which Elaine quickly pulled from his hand and set back onto the counter. She propelled him to the front door, pushed him out, and went back for a second cup of coffee. She was greeted in the kitchen by their half-asleep French exchange student. Jean-Marc shuffled past the kitchen window, stopped short at the sight of the gnomes, and peered through it again. "Zut alors!" Elaine wordlessly poured him a large cup of coffee.