Leah’s mom is the fire chief, for goodness’ sake, and I could hardly have a more boring job than director of the local senior assisted living center.
I don’t think Phil knows what to do with us.
A siren flips on and off, and more lights start to whirl as another car pulls in.
The entire Good Grief police force is here.
Surely someone can manage to get arrested out of this.
By this point, the ladies have gotten out of their car, and they have formed a semicircle behind Leah.
Maybe the arrival of the second car has scared Leah, because she says to Phil, “Mr. Ripley is not drunk.”
Okay, I admit I think it’s cute the way she says Mr. Ripley. But I don’t like it. I want her to call me Doug. This doesn’t seem like the time to insist on that, so I don’t.
“Never mind. This all has to do with Agnes and her bucket list.” Leah glances over her shoulder at the ladies, and I can see the apology on her face. I have to say, I love that she is not willing to see me get arrested without trying to stop it.
Phil shines his flashlight at my chest, looking at me, sniffing the air again, and definitely not looking like he believes Leah. He turns his head and studies her and the ladies standing beside her.
“Isn’t it past you ladies’ bedtime?” he finally says, sweeping his light over the three ladies and causing Miss Harriet’s hair to glow a pumpkin-colored orange.
“Not tonight it’s not, sonny,” Miss Agnes says in a tone that makes me laugh or at least want to.
“I’m sorry about this situation, Phil,” Leah begins before the next officer strides over.
We all know Chuck, just as well as we know Phil, and Leah stops with what she’s saying and greets him. “Hey, Chuck. Nice night for a drive.”
“Leah? I thought there were drunk people and something weird going on.” He turns confused eyes to Phil.
“Well, when Mr. Ripley drove his car so close, it concerned me for a bit. Until I saw him. I still haven’t figured out what is going on yet.”
“Let me tell you,” Leah says before any other confusion can happen. “Agnes has a bucket list, and one of the items on that is to spend the night in jail. We are trying to get arrested, but I’m apparently not as good at pretending to be drunk as Mr. Ripley is.”
Okay, I know I shouldn’t be proud of this, but she said I was good at something. So what if it’s pretending to be drunk. Whatever. Still makes me feel proud that she thought I was doing a good job.
“So...which one is Miss Agnes?” Phil asks uncertainly.
“That’s me,” Miss Agnes says, raising her hand and stepping forward. “But if you arrest these two and they spend the rest of the night in jail, that’ll count and I’ll cross it off my list.”
My eyebrows go up, Phil’s brows go down, and Leah just looks like she’d known that all along.
Maybe she didn’t know about me, but I recall her mentioning earlier that Miss Agnes seems to be living her life vicariously through her. It looks like she was right about that.
“So... Let me get this straight. You’re not really drunk?” Phil points a flashlight at me.
“I’ll take a test if you want me to, but no. I bought a mug of beer at the tavern before it closed, dumped it over my T-shirt, and threw a shirt on over top of it.”
I say this in my natural voice. I’m no longer slurring my words. Maybe that’s what convinces him, I don’t know. Or maybe it’s the older ladies, who are obviously just having fun and probably wouldn’t lie.
“I’m so sorry, Phil. In hindsight, I should have just gone to the police station and asked if we could stay in a jail cell overnight. I didn’t mean to make all of this trouble for you and Chuck.”
Leah really does look grieved. And I do believe it’s because she’s realized that she’s made Chuck and Phil’s night more difficult and that she probably shouldn’t be going around trying to get arrested.
“Don’t worry about it, Leah. Nothing ever happens on a weeknight anyway.”
“Good to know. I’d hate to think I was keeping you from actually doing something important.”
“We’d just be sitting around trying not to fall asleep if we weren’t doing this,” Phil says, and he seems to have relaxed some. “So, Miss Agnes, you’ll be happy if I arrest Mr. Ripley and Leah, is that right?” he adds, seeming to be more concerned about making the old lady happy than about whether or not Leah and I want to be arrested.
“That’s right, sonny. Lock ’em up!” Miss Agnes says.
“But you have to drive us home. Because none of us have our licenses anymore,” Gertrude says. She’s been suspiciously quiet all evening. I think maybe she’s very uncomfortable with the idea of the police.
I am too. I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket.
“Should we handcuff them?” Phil asks, looking at the ladies, and I have to admit I think that they’re taking this a little bit too far. Actually, as I look closer, Phil seems like he’s enjoying this.
I suppose, if this is the most action he sees on a weeknight, I can’t blame him for it.
I’m not really looking forward to going to jail though. This is not on my bucket list.
I think again of the love thing and how it makes people do crazy things, and I wish I knew what the other things are that make men act like idiots, because I’m afflicted.
I don’t want to be afflicted by love though.
In my mind, love means pain.
I’m kind of happy with my life the way it is. Pain free.
“Chuck, you mind throwing your handcuffs on him, and I’ll go ahead and cuff Leah. I suppose we can stick them both in the back of my car, then you can drive these ladies back home so they can get themselves a little beauty sleep.” Phil winks at them, and the ladies titter.
But my heart kinda freezes when Chuck speaks. “You know, I took my handcuffs off to check the latch on one of them, and I never hooked them back on my uniform. You don’t have an extra set, do you?”
“No, I took mine off to show you how yours are supposed to work.”
Okay, this is making me a little nervous, or it would if we actually had criminals in Good Grief. The idea that they’re fixing their own handcuffs is a little disconcerting.
“We just have one pair?” Phil says, looking at Chuck.
Chuck raises his hand. “I don’t have any.”
“Well, sorry, you two, but I’m gonna hook ya together. I wish I could give you the full effects, but this is going to have to do.”
I’m ready to tell him that he doesn’t have to use handcuffs at all, because I don’t need the “full effects,” but I don’t want Miss Agnes to have any reason to not cross this off her bucket list. And I can just see that wily old woman right now saying since we didn’t get handcuffed, it doesn’t count.
If I’m going to jail, this is going to count.
Phil pulls his cuffs out, and Leah sticks out the arm that is closest to me. I stick mine out beside hers and admire our differences.
I also kind of wish that I hadn’t worn my button-down, because with cuffs, our arms will be touching, and skin on skin would be much better than skin on shirt.
She’s in a T-shirt and jeans, which she doesn’t typically wear to work, and she looks good to me. I like her boots too.
I’m not really a boot kinda guy, but seems like everyone here in Good Grief wears them. I think maybe I need to get myself a pair. They weren’t common footwear back in California.
The officers agree that Phil’s going to drive us to the station, and he puts his hand on our heads as we get in the car.
I slide the whole way over so Leah can get in behind me, and our cuffed hands sit on the seat between us.
I look over at her as Phil shuts the door. “This is gonna work for Miss Agnes’s list?”
She nods. “I’m sure it will.”
“If you have the privilege of seeing her list, would you do me a favor and rip it up?”
She laughs and rolls
her eyes. “If Miss Agnes ever handed it to me, I guarantee you it would have been ripped long before now.”
“Maybe we could convince her to add normal things. Maybe she could do something easy like graffiti. Or cutting a tree down.”
“I think Good Grief is much better off if Miss Agnes doesn’t have a chainsaw.”
“We’ll have to note that it has to be done with a handsaw.”
“I agreed that cutting a tree down is much better than skydiving, and that is still on her list. We’ll have to figure out how to get that one off too.”
“Maybe she could lose the list.”
“She guards that thing like it’s her child,” Leah says, and her hand moves to emphasize her point.
The back of her hand brushes against mine, and it tempts me to turn my hand around and see if I can hold hands with someone that I’m handcuffed to.
The things I never thought I would want to know.
I’m afraid that being around Leah is changing me.
Maybe I shouldn’t be afraid, because I think I like the person I’m becoming.
Chapter 12
Leah
Gertrude has been telling me all along that I need to be kind to Doug. She says that I can catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and of course, I retort that I’m not interested in catching flies.
But I’ve known all along that I am attracted to him. I suppose I am fighting it. Because, come on, it’s not okay to be attracted to your boss. That makes things awkward.
As does being handcuffed to him.
Awkward in a lot of different ways, since I’m tempted to turn my hand around and link my fingers with his. I kinda think he’d be okay with it, but that doesn’t solve the bigger problem, which is—he is still my boss.
We don’t say too much on the car ride there, and both of us are okay when the guys want to skip the booking paperwork and just put us in a cell. They do have to unlock the handcuffs so they can put us in separate cells. I’ve never actually been in a jail cell, and to be honest, I’ve never even been in the jail.
There is a narrow bed, a sink, and a toilet in each one of the four cells.
I’m wondering why Good Grief even has four jail cells, and I’m tempted to ask if there’s ever been a time when all four were full.
But it’s almost four o’clock in the morning, and I’m pretty tired.
I think Doug is too, because he’s been quiet as well. Hopefully, he’s tired and not angry.
They put us in the side-by-side cells, and both of us go over and sit down on our beds.
I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be sleeping, but tomorrow is Saturday, so I guess I can take a nice afternoon nap.
“Will you be able to catch up on your sleep tomorrow?” Doug leans his head back against the wall and looks over at me. Then his brows pull together. “I guess I mean today.”
A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and goodness, I have to admit the man looks good with a five o’clock shadow. Even if his eyes are tired, and even if I do feel a little guilty because of the weariness on his face.
It’s my fault.
“I can. The fire hall is serving chicken dinners at noon tomorrow, I guess today, and I’m supposed to help with that, but afterward, probably around two or so, I can sleep the rest of the day.”
“I guess I had seen the signs for the chicken dinners. I’ll have to come get one.”
“They’re really good. My mom will be cooking tomorrow, so they’ll definitely be good.”
“Your mom is quite a woman.”
I roll my head on the cement wall and look over at him. I guess he didn’t grow up in Good Grief. “My mom was just a housewife for a lot of years, but once us girls were out of the house, she really found her niche in the fire company. She still helps Dad at the vet’s office though.”
“I’ve heard that. Like I said, she’s quite a woman.”
I’m not sure exactly what that means. I mean, I like that Doug admires my mother, but I kinda feel like he’s saying something else, although I’m not sure what.
“She has a pretty interesting daughter as well.”
I almost don’t hear him, because he murmurs the words so low.
“I’m not sure ‘pretty interesting’ is a compliment,” I say, blinking my eyes to try to get the cloudiness out of them. I never stay up this late.
“It was,” Doug says, rolling his head so that he is looking forward. His hands are crossed over his stomach, and he’s slouched back against the wall. I’ve never really seen him look like anything but a proper businessman, so the position is a little bit odd.
I want to tease him about it, but I don’t know if we’re on those kinds of terms.
I snort.
“What?” he asks, without turning his head to me.
“I wanted to tease you about slouching and not looking like my boss right now, but I wasn’t sure if we had a casual relationship like that, but then I thought, we’re in jail together. I’m pretty sure I can tease you about just about anything now.”
His eyes are closed, but his lips turn up. “You can.”
That’s something I never expected my boss to say. He’s always seemed like such an uptight, play-by-the-rules kind of guy.
“I think I’m seeing another side of you.”
“I think I’m seeing the same side of you. At least the side I knew was there all along.”
“Really?”
“Sure. About five minutes after we started working together, I figured I’d see you in jail someday. The thing I didn’t know was that I would be here with you.”
I suppose I could take that the wrong way, like I am dragging him down or something, but I know he didn’t mean it like that.
“I think Mr. Ripley has a sense of humor.”
I also think there was a little bit of flirt in my voice. I think that’s what happens when I’m out too late. I start flirting with guys that I have absolutely no chance with.
“Some people turn into pumpkins after midnight. I get funny, I guess.”
I don’t point out to him that he has been funny all evening, but I do say, “I don’t know if it’s a time thing, or maybe it’s our location. You really didn’t start making me laugh until they locked you up. Maybe being in jail suits you.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to make my parents proud.”
“Are your parents in California?”
His head rolls over the wall until he’s looking at me. “You know I’m from California?”
I smile and lift a shoulder. “Small town.”
That should explain it, but it really doesn’t. I looked him up, and I asked around about him. It wasn’t like it was local gossip that I heard somewhere, although I could have, I suppose.
He lifts his brows as though to say, “oh yeah,” and straightens his head.
I’m glad I don’t have to admit that I was interested enough to look him up. Small towns’ reputations for being great gossip centers saved my bacon. This time.
“How long do we have to stay here?” he asks.
He’s been quiet for a couple minutes, and I almost thought he was falling asleep, so his words surprise me.
“I don’t know.”
“I just want to make sure it counts on Miss Agnes’s list.”
“It had better count,” I say. “Do you have something that you need to do?”
I guess I’d never really thought about it, but I suppose he could have a woman that he goes somewhere to see on the weekends or something he does with his family somewhere. Obviously, he wouldn’t be going to see the ones in California, but maybe he does Zoom calls or they meet somewhere.
I don’t think twice about the idea that he sees his family, but the idea of a girlfriend kind of bothers me.
I guess he wouldn’t have agreed to have a fake one if he had a real one somewhere.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I definitely have been out way too late. That was not an appropriate question for me to ask my boss. “I’m sorry.
I am crossing lines here.”
“Crossing lines?” His head has turned toward me at my question, and I think he looks amused, but my cheeks are hot, and I look away.
“You’re my boss. That’s not something we should talk about.”
“We’re not exactly on the job. The boss rules only apply when we’re at work, right?”
“I suppose being in jail presents a whole new set of rules.”
“I’m not up on jail etiquette. On the day I met you, I should have brushed up on it. Instead of starting the ‘bail Leah out of jail’ fund at my bank.”
“You have bail money?” I ask, glancing up.
He shoots that grin at me again, the one where his lip just turns up slightly, and he has that glint in his eye.
I really like that look.
He doesn’t say anything though, and our eyes hold for a couple of moments.
Finally, I look down at my hands and pick at my fingernails. “I’m sorry I’ve complicated your life. I don’t think we’ve probably succeeded in attracting any new residents, although we haven’t lost any of the ones we have.”
He sighs. “You know, you don’t need to apologize. You’ve opened my eyes about a few things and made me realize that I could expand my outlook on life a little. Not take things so seriously. It’s important to do a good job and be serious about your work, but I think it’s also important to enjoy the journey.”
I nod. I’ve heard that saying before, and although that hasn’t been my mantra throughout life, I definitely agree with it. It’s probably the way I’ve lived, even if it hasn’t been deliberately.
“You only go through once. It might as well be fun.”
“Right. As long as you take care of your responsibilities and do the things that are expected of you.”
“And help people along the way. It’s not fun if you’re only doing it for yourself.”
“That’s something else I’ve been learning. I saw my job as a job, I didn’t really see my job as people. But I think that’s what it is.”
“Sometimes, it becomes about money.”
“That’s what was passed down to me from corporate. The money angle, and of course, we need it. Need money to keep the facility going, to pay ourselves. But there has to be a balance between the money and taking care of the people who have been entrusted to us.”
Me and the Helpful Hurricane (Good Grief, Idaho) Page 10