"Not a bad way to wait for Death," Edwina said, changing into an Egyptian cotton nightgown. "A nice, long wait, but the kids won't need to know that."
She grabbed a pleasantly tawdry romance novel to keep her company, slipped under the bedcovers, and settled comfortably back among her pillows to await developments.
Chapter Two
The phone in Peez Godz's office rang while she was in the middle of giving dictation. Her secretary, the formidable Wilma Pilut, answered it with the warm, welcoming tones of a testy Doberman. One bark, two snarls, and a protracted growl into the mouthpiece later, she turned to her employer and reported: "Chicago on line two, Ms. Godz."
"Not those idiots again," Peez grumbled, finagling a particularly tricky paper clip into the chain she'd been working on since eight that morning. She looked up from her mindless, endless task and gave the secretary her most engaging smile. "Tell them I'm not in, please, Wilma."
Wilma refused to be engaged. "That would be a lie, Ms. Godz," she said brusquely. "The Great Mother doesn't like lies."
"The Great Mother doesn't need to know," Peez replied, doing her best not to sound like she was wheedling. "Besides, it's not like you're lying; you're just relaying a teensy, weensy, miniscule li'l ol' fib of mine."