All for One

by Melody Carlson

  “I thought your shop open didn’t open until ten on Saturdays.” Janie glanced at her watch.

  “I’ll let you in early,” Bonnie said enticingly. “Come around the back door, and I’ll give you a private showing.”

  “That’s an offer I can’t resist. I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

  As Janie drove, she rationalized that helping Victor as a designer didn’t necessarily fall into the category of being “seriously involved” with him. After all, Victor wanted her assistance because he admired her sense of style. She was simply playing the role of an interior decorator. No big deal.

  Janie parked in back of the design shop, and before long she and Bonnie were oohing and ahhing over the interesting pieces. “Tell you what,” Bonnie said, “I’ll give you a ten percent discount for anything you purchase today.”

  “What if these plates are too big for the cabinets?” Janie asked. “I don’t have the measurements with me.”

  “Take them over and try them out,” Bonnie told her. “If they don’t work, you can bring them back.”

  “All right.” Janie nodded. Tempted by her one-day-only discount, Janie picked out a lot of things. As Bonnie rang up the purchase, Janie loaded the items back into some of the packing boxes. She held up one of the pale blue tumblers, admiring the light through the bubble glass. “You don’t think these might get broken on the boat? I mean if the ocean is rough.”

  “Not if you pack them carefully in the cabinet.” Bonnie held up a set of blue-and-white striped cloth napkins. “Tuck these around them and they’ll be fine.” She pointed to the unbreakable set of acrylic cups with yachting flags. “Use those on bumpy seas.”

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to be stuck eating out of plastic all the time.” She grinned as she held up one of the matching bubble-glass goblets. “And for those romantic sunset dinners, you’ll want these.”

  Janie almost admitted that she wasn’t sure there’d ever be another “romantic sunset dinner” but figured that wasn’t something Bonnie needed to know. “Thanks for calling me,” she told Bonnie as they loaded the boxes into the trunk of her car.

  “Let me know how everything looks.”

  “Hopefully I won’t have to bring anything back.” Janie closed the trunk.

  “Have fun!” Bonnie waved as she went back into her store.

  Janie intended to have fun. She’d been focused on setting up her law office lately, mostly to divert her attention from Victor and Donna, but other than Caroline she didn’t have any real clients yet. This sudden change of direction—getting to play house on Victor’s sailboat—was a welcome distraction.

  She parked near the wharf. Taking one box at a time, Janie carried them down the dock and set them on the deck of Victor’s boat. Finally she boarded, unlocked the cabin, and began to open and sort through the boxes. It felt like Christmas. To add to her merriment, she put a jazz CD into the Bose player. After seeing that the plates did indeed fit in the rather compact cabinets, she decided to give the insides a thorough cleaning first. Once that was done, she decided to go ahead and wash the dishes, too. That way they’d be ready to use.

  Of course, as she washed, dried, and started to put away the dishes, she daydreamed about when she and Victor might set out on a sailboat trip, perhaps something more than just looping up and down the river and bay. Maybe someday—if things went as she secretly hoped—they would do long trips, overnight trips, perhaps even sail up to the San Juans like Victor had been dreaming of.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Janie nearly dropped the goblet in her hand. She turned to see Donna halfway down the ladder into the galley. With a suspicious scowl Donna slowly continued down the steps, finally standing before Janie with an accusing expression. “Answer me! What are you doing here?”

  Janie set the goblet back into the sudsy water. “I’m just cleaning up and putting things away.”

  “But why are you here?” Donna demanded.

  “I found some things at—”

  “Just stop!” Donna pointed at the door that led to the bedroom now. “Is Victor here with you now? Is he hiding in there?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Donna stormed over to the bedroom door, throwing it open as if she expected to find her ex-husband in some sort of compromising position. Of course, he wasn’t there. She turned back to face Janie. “Then why are you here?”

  “I’d tell you if you were willing to listen.”

  “What are you doing with those things?” Donna pointed to the half-full boxes.

  “I was cleaning them to—”

  “Are you stealing Victor’s things?” Donna stood closer to Janie now, looking up at her with narrowed eyes.

  “No.” Janie stepped away from Donna.

  “Then why are you here?”

  Janie quickly explained about Bonnie’s morning phone call, going to the décor shop, and finding these things, but Donna was still not satisfied.

  “That does not answer my question,” she said stubbornly. “Why are you here? Why are you acting like Victor’s boat is yours? And why are you filling his cupboards with your things?”

  “These aren’t my things. I bought them for Victor and—”

  “Why are you buying things for my husband?” Donna’s voice was shrill. “What right do you have to interfere like this?” Janie was tempted to point out that Victor was Donna’s ex-husband and that he had invited Janie to do this, but she suspected that would not help the situation.

  “A while ago,” Janie began carefully. “Victor asked me to help him to outfit the new sailboat. He … uh … he wasn’t quite sure where to begin, and he thought I could help him with it. That’s what I’m doing, I’m helping him.”

  “Don’t you mean you’re helping yourself to him?”

  Janie took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Listen, Donna, I don’t really understand what’s going on between you and Victor. I’m simply trying to do what I’d agreed to do. Think of me as an interior decorator.”

  “Are you an interior decorator?”

  “No, not really. I mean, I—”

  “I thought you were a lawyer, but perhaps I was misled about that as well.”

  “No, I am an attorney.”

  “Then you should stick to what you know—practicing law!”

  “Donna,” Janie began gently. “I know that you must still love Victor, and this is all rather awkward, but I—”

  “What’s awkward is finding you trespassing onto—”

  “I am not trespassing.” Janie fished the key to the boat out of her pocket now, holding it up as evidence.

  Donna reached out and snatched it from her. “I’ll take that.”

  “That’s mine—”

  “And I will thank you to vacate this boat immediately.” Donna glared at Janie.

  “I need to finish—”

  “The only thing you need to do is leave right now.” Donna held up her phone. “Before I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing and burglary and God only knows what else—husband stealing, although I’m sure you think that’s perfectly legal, and being that you’re a lawyer, you’d find some way to slip out of it.”

  “You’re all wrong about everything,” Janie tried again. “I have every right to be here, and even if you call the—”

  Donna looked at the table where kitchen things were haphazardly sitting. Seeing a shell-handled butter knife, she picked it up, wielding it like a weapon. “I am warning you,” she said. “Get out of here. Now!”

  Janie glanced at the mess she was leaving behind, the half-full boxes, dishes still in the small galley sink. She had wanted to leave the place looking like perfection, as a surprise for Victor.

  “Fine.”
She picked up her bag and stepped away from Donna, inching toward the ladder at a safe distance. Not that she was afraid of a butter knife, but the look in that woman’s eyes was a little intimidating. “I’m leaving.”

  “In the future,” Donna called as Janie scaled the ladder, “I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands off my husband!”

  Again Janie was tempted to yell, “Ex-husband!” but she did not. She simply got off of the boat, and, feeling confused and a bit like a whipped puppy, she hurried back to her car.

  Instead of returning to the inn to finish her work on her office, Janie drove directly home. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she was furious. What right did Donna have to act like that? What was the basis for all those accusations? Throwing Janie off of Victor’s boat? Taking away her key? It was all so wrong.

  Janie picked up her phone and was about to dial Victor’s number, but she stopped herself. Really, what was she going to tell him? That Donna had been mean to her? Threatened her with a butter knife? Would Janie whine and complain and say she’d simply been trying to outfit his boat, but his crazy ex-wife had taken her key and thrown her out? How childish did that all sound? Really, did Victor need more stress about this from Janie? Wasn’t it bad enough he had Donna to put up with?

  She had promised Victor she would be patient. If Donna was really the wicked witch that Janie had seen on the sailboat, wouldn’t Victor be painfully aware of this already? If he wasn’t aware, perhaps it was better to let Donna show her ex-husband her true colors in due time. But what if Donna was too smart to do that? What if Donna somehow twisted their strange encounter on the sailboat, making it seem that Janie was the one at fault? Wasn’t it in Janie’s best interests to stand up for herself? Or would it seem strange or even territorial for Janie to take this up with Victor?

  She felt like a dog chasing his own tail.

  Confused and angry, Janie got back into her car and drove over to the inn. Her plan was twofold now. She would work on her office as well as try to figure out what exactly was going on with Donna. Maybe she’d bump into Caroline or Abby and ask them for advice. Really, that Donna was infuriating!

  As Janie arrived at Abby’s B and B, she noticed a black pickup pulling in behind her. “Hey there,” called the driver. “Have you seen Caroline McCann around?”

  Janie frowned over at him, trying to figure out why he seemed familiar. He stepped out of the truck. “Are you Caroline’s brother?” she finally ventured.

  He smiled to reveal yellowed teeth, then stuck out his hand. “That I am. Michael McCann, at your service.”

  She cautiously accepted his hand, trying not to grimace as she shook it. “I’m Janie Sorenson. I used to be Janie Andrews. Caroline and I were friends in—”

  “Not the same skinny Janie Andrews with braces?” he said in a teasing tone.

  She forced a smile. “Same one.”

  He grinned in a sleazy sort of way. “Well, my, my, my … but you have changed.”

  She didn’t know whether to thank him or slap him, and so she did neither.

  “So have you seen my sister around? One of her friends used to live in this house, and she said she was staying with a friend.”

  “This was where Abby lived when we were girls,” Janie said carefully. No reason to divulge everything to this guy. “And now I have a law office here.”

  “So where might I find my sister?” He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

  “I’m not really sure. I haven’t seen her—” Janie stopped just as the garage door opened to reveal Caroline’s small SUV coming out.

  Michael followed her look, then nodded. “Well, I’ll be. There’s my baby sister right now.” He tossed a dark look to Janie. “You probably knew she was here all along.”

  Janie watched as Michael went over and blocked Caroline’s car, loudly thumping on the roof to get her attention. Poor Caroline looked so startled that Janie was surprised she didn’t run right over her brother.

  Caroline got out of the car. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you!” He stepped toward her in a way that appeared threatening.

  “Well”—Caroline glanced over at Janie—”here I am.”

  “Why are you hiding from me?” he demanded.

  “I’m not. I just—”

  “And not answering your phone?”

  “I’ve been really busy, Michael.”

  He grabbed Caroline by the forearm, and Janie could see the fear in her friend’s eyes. “I know what you’ve been doing, baby sister, and I plan to—”

  “Excuse me.” Janie stepped up to Michael, looking him in the eye. “You need to let go of Caroline’s arm.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need to—”

  “You let go of Caroline’s arm, or I’m calling the police.” Janie didn’t miss the irony that she was using the same words Donna had said to her about an hour ago. Janie reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, holding it up like a weapon. “I mean it. I’m Caroline’s attorney, and I’m well aware of what’s going on here.”

  Michael released Caroline’s arm, then pointed his finger right in Caroline’s face. “You’re going to need a lawyer by the time I get done with you.” Then he turned, glared at Janie, and stomped away.

  “Oh my.” Caroline grabbed onto Janie. “I’m so thankful you were here.”

  “Looks like your big brother hasn’t changed much.” Janie shook her head as the pickup roared away from them. “Besides putting on a few pounds.”

  “And getting uglier.” Caroline let out a big sigh. “What am I going to do?”

  “First of all, tell me why he’s so angry.”

  So Caroline explained how she’d gone into her mom’s house and removed everything that she wanted to keep.

  “That’s completely within your legal rights, Caroline.”

  “Not according to Michael.” Caroline frowned. “He’s left me all these messages—really angry messages. Who knows what he might do now?”

  “Maybe we should file a restraining order.”

  “I don’t know.” Caroline pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I actually feel a little bad. I mean I should probably be more generous to him. He is their son.”

  “He already swindled your parents out of a lot of money,” Janie reminded her. “Wasn’t that why your mom took him out of her will?”

  Caroline nodded sadly.

  “Legally you don’t owe him a thing.”

  “Maybe not legally.”

  Janie sighed. “Well, it’s up to you how you handle this, Caroline. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m sorry, but your brother looks like he could hurt someone if he wanted to. In fact I’m quite serious about filing that restraining order. Do you still have your phone messages—the threatening ones?” Caroline nodded. “And I just witnessed him being rough with you, and you said he may already have a criminal record. I’m sure we’d have no problem getting a restraining order.”

  “I’m afraid that will just make him madder.”

  Janie nodded. “That’s possible.”

  “For now I’d like to see if I can resolve this in a peaceful way.”

  Janie put her hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “I can appreciate that. But don’t try to resolve it on your own, okay? If you’re going to have a conversation with that man, I think you need someone else with you, like a witness or a referee. I’m more than willing to do that.”

  “Thanks.” Then, as Janie watched Caroline leave, she thought about how she could have used a witness on the boat today. How great it would’ve been to have had someone besides Janie to report Donna’s bad behavior to Victor. Maybe the next time it happened—if there was a next time—Janie would have her pocket recorder along for proof. Of course, it would appear strange if she tried to u
se a secret recording against Donna. There had to be a better way to expose that woman for who she really was.

  Chapter 21

  MARLEY

  It was only an hour-long drive to Ashton’s house, but Marley felt like it took her days to arrive. At first Marley tried to listen to her Judy Collins CD as a distraction, but as soon as “Cat’s in the Cradle” started, Marley had to turn it off. She didn’t like to think about what a poor excuse for a father John had been. John Phelps hadn’t been only a lousy husband, but a loser of a dad as well. Marley had often blamed herself for the family’s troubles. What if she hadn’t gotten pregnant in college? What if she hadn’t married John simply because he was the father?

  She’d been too young and idealistic to realize that John didn’t have what it took to be faithful to either her or her child. Instead of figuring this out before it was too late, she’d allowed him to convince her otherwise. She’d taken the risk, and for more than twenty-five years she’d paid the price. Despite her divorce several years ago, she still felt like she was paying for her poor choices. It seemed that Ashton was still paying too.

  She knew it was probably unfair to blame all of Ashton’s troubles on his father, but John had left some deep wounds on his only child—well, “only child” as far as Marley knew. For all the times her pilot husband had cheated on her, John might have a child at every international airport.

  “No, no, no,” she told herself. “This is no good.” Taking this forlorn trip down memory lane wasn’t only depressing, it was counterproductive. Instead Marley decided to pray. For most of the drive, she prayed for Ashton, and for Leo, and for herself. When she ran out of things to pray about for the three of them, she prayed for the other Lindas, and then she prayed for little Hunter and Jack and Jasmine. Finally she was pulling into the parking lot at Ashton and Leo’s apartment complex.