“And you'll help me, right?" Jane asked. Shelley instantly stopped laughing.

One April It was very early in the morning, but the station

wagon was loaded to the gunwales. Jane had

all her notebooks full of lists, and a suitcase full

of clothes for the couple days she'd be at "com‑

mand central," a.k.a. the hunting lodge né

monastery. She double-checked her notebooks

while Shelley stumbled about sleepily putting

her few belongings in the car. It was only about

an hour and a half drive, but Jane didn't want to have to waste time coming home for anything she'd forgotten.

“I still don't quite understand why we have to go up there a couple days early," Shelley said with a fairly ladylike yawn.

“Because there's a lot to do on site," Jane answered.

“ 'On site.' My, that sounds professional," Shelley commented. "I have to admit you've beenpretty cool about this whole thing. I expected a lot more whining."

“I don't whine," Jane said. "Well, not as often as I might. It's just a matter of being really organized. I appreciate your coming along to help out at the end though."

“So what's the plan?" Shelley asked as they buckled their seat belts and Jane handed her a map. Shelley held it out in front of her at a significant distance. Jane considered opening a discussion about bifocals, but decided it wouldn't be politic when Shelley was being helpful.

“Today we just look everything over," Jane said. "I've got a rough sketch of the house plan, but I've never actually been there. I drove out there last week, but couldn't get the guy who lives there to come to the door. I should have called ahead."

“Somebody lives in this place?"