There is something luxurious about spending an entire evening at home. It’s rare, but what’s even more rare is that I’m really happy about it. No social obligations. No hunting and gathering news or mining the latest gossip. Just me and Chuckles.
It’s a pleasure to take a pause, I must say. With everything that’s been coming down in Middle Valley recently — new people either trying too hard, to blend in or make a name for themselves. And the crime – the murders, dear God, body parts. Eh.
I envy Chuckles in her blissful obliviousness.
This is decidedly not my nature. Or at least not that of Miss Comportment. I’m not one to avoid the messes, but the mess, dear reader, has one-upped me. My aggressiveness just isn’t there today.
I’m blessed to have an evening off and alone, and really, isn’t that what we all are when a cat is around? Just background?
Where are we in this town? Certainly, little old quiet Middle Valley is now nothing more than a memory.
So much to process.
Of course, that’s not to say my ear won’t be to the ground. I’m still your Miss Comportment, after all! I have a reputation to uphold. I’ll be ready to jump. This is no time to change, right Chuckles?
I’ll take that yawn as a yes.
Cassie turned me on to this Santa Margherita pinot grigio. Twenty-five a bottle, but wow. She was right. I’ll need another, of course.
Body parts mysteriously showing up with no apparent reason or purpose … no identifiable DNA … so what now? It’s been a year already … will there be another?
And Sheriff Paul. Dear, sweet, unassuming Paul. Pillar of our community, native son. What the actual hell? I guess we all have our oats to sow, his years in New York’s music scene and all. How he found his way to gambling on the ponies I will never know, though I will say – and this is your wise Miss Comportment speaking – it’s not unusual for the sowing of the oats to turn to mush.
Seriously, though, contract killing to pay off his debts? And why Mick Righteous, notable rock star and ex-husband to Miss Cassie? What was this Armand person thinking when he hired him?
I suspect that is what I’ll have to keep an eye on. And Paul, of course. I’m sure he’s trying to understand how this all happened. Word in town is the only person in touch with Paul is Bernie. Even his ex-wife, Trish, only visits him to talk money.
Of course, none of this is being reported in the newspapers because none of them know how to get information. Take our favorite newsman, Bernie. He tried being a reporter in New York for a stretch, but the pond was just too large and he returned to more manageable-sized Middle Valley – back to the little town blues, and it shows up in his work. New York, New York was not for him.
What was that charade anyway … attaching himself to Mayor Charlotte during the fundraiser for the sculpture of Mick Righteous? That fluff copy he wrote to document the funding efforts made HIM more of a hired gun than Paul. He is now even more convinced that writing a book is his only way forward. Pray for your Miss Comportment that she does not show up in it!
Of course, speaking about Bernie, we can’t forget our favorite rich-kid protégé, John. When he heard about the new magazine, he immediately went after it. My sources tell me he’s disillusioned with news and working for two other rich kids is attractive. One, Lindy, a royal, no less and two, Carson, our favorite California billionaire, have decided MV needs its own four-color glossy magazine. I have to say, in spite of the economics of the thing, with all that’s going on here of late, this seems like either a fabulous idea or an implosion waiting to happen – depending on the day, of course.
Well, so much for the lovely PG. I could contaminate it with the cabernet from yesterday’s stir-fry, but that seems a pity for both bottles.
Dear reader, though together we are deep in thought, I must step out, refresh and replenish the sips. I shall return, though I leave you in Chuckles’ sure hands. I’m sure Cassie has a stash I can raid.
Do stay tuned … because, of course, the story is far from over.
Jenny Page