“How much?”

“Two hundred dollars. Do you know how much she got last year?”

“How much?”

“Fifty. Now, what sort of secretary goes from a fifty-dollar Christmas bonus to a two-hundred-dollar Christmas bonus? That’s what I want to know.”

The cocktails had kicked in, and Marilyn’s face was flushed. She was beginning to slur her words a little.

“Oh, honey.” Betty reached out to pat Marilyn’s knee. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Farley did really well last year, didn’t he? That’s what you told me.” But she was thinking that a hundred-and-fifty-dollar increase in bonus sounded mighty suspicious to her. She tried to remember what Farley Dean’s secretary looked like, and wondered if she should risk upsetting Marilyn further by asking her. She decided against it.

“Well.” Marilyn held her highball glass next to her rouged cheek. “He did.”

Betty pursed her lips, thinking what she’d do to Farley if she were Marilyn, but Marilyn wasn’t quite that clever, nor did she demand the same level of rectitude as Betty.

“I wouldn’t give it any more thought, if I were you,” she lied, for Marilyn’s benefit as much as her own. “You just go on home and get some sleep, and if you need to talk about it tomorrow, you just give me a call.”

Betty was not eager to hear any more from Marilyn about her obviously cheating husband, and had extended her generous offer of a sympathetic ear the next day because she knew she wouldn’t be home to answer the telephone.

“You know,” Marilyn began, “I meant to talk to you about Farley and the director of finance position.”

Betty took Marilyn’s Manhattan glass from her and gently guided her to the front door. Unbelievable. He was cheating on her, yet she still wanted to help him advance his career.

“Of course.” Betty smiled through her incredulity, certain that she wouldn’t be helping Farley now. Marilyn was the one who’d be needing the help. “But let’s talk about that tomorrow.”

And before Marilyn Dean realized it, she was in her matching fox hat and coat, with her car keys in gloved hand, weaving her way toward the Coupe de Ville parked in the circular drive.

The next day, the Millers left town to spend the rest of the week with Charles’s parents up in Cooperstown, New York. Betty wasn’t home to receive Marilyn’s telephone call, thank God, because that was going to be a long conversation and she had too many other things to worry about. Her mother-in-law, potential blizzard conditions on the road, her mother-in-law, keeping the children frostbite-free, and her mother-in-law.

It was only after New Year’s Day, after Betty had returned to Wooster, that she was able to turn her full attention to the gossip about Edward and Vivian Dalton. Well, she said to herself as she opened the telephone book to the florists and pointed a sharp red talon at the top of the page, since Marilyn was too preoccupied with her own personal scandal, I suppose I’ll have to handle this one myself as well. And she proceeded to go about planning an afternoon event where she could make that happen.