Archie Goes Home

Chapter 22

Finding out that Katie Padgett was working on what sounded like an exposé of the Logan Mulgrew death — and maybe that of his wife, as well — made me decide to postpone my return to New York for a while. Things could get interesting in the old hometown.

As I paged through the Trumpet the next morning at breakfast, I saw an item in the “Around the State” feature that would give me at least one good reason to hang around a little longer. “Look at this, Mom,” I said, handing her the paper. “There’s a big quilt exhibition that’s just opened at the state fairgrounds in Columbus.”

“That’s very nice, dear,” my mother said as she blew on the coffee in her cup to cool it. “Since when have you been interested in quilts?”

“Well, you’re interested in them, and you have got a bunch of county fair ribbons to prove it. What do you say that we drive up to Columbus?”

“Really, Archie, you shouldn’t feel that you have to indulge me.”

“I would be indulging myself, too,” I told her. “You know how much I like to drive, and this is a perfect day to head north with the top down on that convertible of mine that’s parked out behind the house, just waiting to be turned loose on the beckoning highways and byways of the Buckeye State.”

“My goodness, you sound almost poetic. Who would have ever thought that, given your English grades in high school?”

“Hey, remember that I once got an A-plus on a paper I wrote about all the presidents who came from Ohio. Have you forgotten?”

She laughed. “How could I? For weeks afterward, you kept reminding your father and me about it. Actually, for all the complaining you did about school, you really were a pretty decent student.”

“I did complain a lot, though, didn’t I? And then later, it didn’t take me long to realize that college was a waste of time for me. What do you say we take off for Columbus?”

“How can I say no to such an offer? I just hope you don’t get bored looking at a lot of quilts.”

“I’ll take my chances. Let’s go!”

Less than a half hour later, we were on the road north, my mother wearing a scarf on her head.

“The last time I rode in a car with a top down was your father’s old jalopy,” she said. “I’m sure you must remember it?”

“Of course I do. It had more rattles than a nursery school. I figured it was always about to fall apart. I never knew why he held on to the damn thing for so long.”

“Remember, he had a perfectly good pickup truck, too. He kept the jalopy because he loved to occasionally take a spin without a roof over his head. Like father, like son.”

“I guess you’re right. Nero Wolfe never saw a need for us to have a convertible, but I argued so much that he finally gave in. He won’t ride in it, of course. I have enough trouble even getting him into the Heron sedan.”

“Because he won’t fit?”

“Oh no, that’s not the problem. I thought I had told you before that he doesn’t like to ride in cars, and he will only do it if I’m driving, or Saul Panzer, who I know you’ve met.”

“Yes, a couple of times on my visits to you. He seems like a fine gentleman.”

“He is, although I’d never tell him that. And he’s also a good poker player — too good, as far as I’m concerned. He’s taking over some of my duties back home while I’m lollygagging around here.”

“Lollygagging? Is that what we are doing now?”

“I suppose you could call it that, but for what it’s worth, I’m finding my time here to be a very pleasant change of pace.”

“I am happy to hear that, Archie. I thought you might find yourself bored once you got away from the Mulgrew business.”

“I’m rarely if ever bored, Mom. Besides, it’s good for me to be away from Wolfe and the brownstone on occasion. We tend to get on each other’s nerves; and also, he needs to see what things are like for him when I’m not around.”

“Aren’t you afraid that Mr. Panzer might take your place permanently?”

“No, as good as Saul is, he would never want to be Nero Wolfe’s full-time assistant. He’s got a thriving business himself as an investigator, which he would never give up. I doubt if he’s spending more than a day and a half a week, if that, at my desk in the brownstone.”

“Well, as long as you can spare the time, I’m happy to have you around.”

“I always make it a point to be away from New York for at least a week or two every year, sometimes more. Lily and I have taken quite a few trips together, to Europe, the Caribbean, and to the ranch she owns up in Montana.

“There is a feeling on the part of too many New Yorkers that they live in the center of the country, if not the world, and that everything else revolves around them and their city,” I continued. “Now I don’t happen to feel that way, even after having lived in Manhattan for so long. But still, I feel it’s important for me to remind myself of how diverse this country is, and how many people in it don’t give a damn what’s going on in that place that likes to refer to itself as ‘The Big Apple.’”

“I have sensed New York’s pleased view of itself when I’ve been there,” my mother said. “Not from you, or Mr. Wolfe, or from our dear Lily. I’m glad that you’re not yet homesick for the hustle and bustle and the neon lights.”

Before setting out this morning, I had consulted my Ohio road map and confirmed that the state fairgrounds lay north and east of Columbus’s downtown. We arrived there well before ten and went straight to where the quilts were displayed.

“These are impressive,” I said to my mother as we looked at the dozens of quilts displayed on the walls in the exhibition hall. “But then, so are yours. Have you ever entered any at the state fair?”

“Oh, my, no!” she said, brushing the idea aside with a sniff. “I’m just not in the same class with these people. I am a county-level quilter, and the work you see here is by some of the best in the whole country. I recognize a few of the names here as people from Iowa, Minnesota, Vermont, and other places whom I’ve read about in my quilting magazines. These are the very best of the best.”

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I really am, and I’ve picked up a few ideas that I’m going to try out at home.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, meaning it. After spending an hour and a half looking at the array of quilts, we left the fairgrounds and stopped for lunch at a restaurant near the state capitol, a building my mother ruefully remarked that she hadn’t seen for “at least forty years.”

“There’s really no reason for you to come up here,” I told her. “It seems to me you have a rich life right there at home. You don’t appear to be sitting alone in your house doing nothing.”

“I really do try to keep busy, Archie, and I have a lot of people whom I consider to be good friends. I think my sister envies me that.”

“She should. She seems a little too interested in what people are up to, including maybe some things they shouldn’t be up to.”

“Don’t be too hard on Edna, Archie. She has a good heart, and she also has always been very considerate of me. The last time I came down with the flu — which thankfully doesn’t happen often — she came over every day with hot meals and soup and made sure that I had everything else I needed.”

“You’re right, Mom, sometimes I’m too quick to judge. Nero Wolfe has cautioned me about that.”