by Amy Vansant
“You think they’ll leave the nurse behind to man the ship?”
She nodded. “The residents aren’t spry enough to swing by for snacks. Someone has to stay there.”
He nodded. “Think they’ll bite?”
“Everybody loves meat snacks.”
“True.”
“Plus, the one woman I told you about, Dinah, all but invited herself over. I’m pretty sure Emmitt follows her lead.”
Seamus shrugged. “I’m in. Clear it with the party planning committee.”
“That’s my next stop.”
Charlotte trotted downstairs and found Mariska and Darla on the sofa in the big room watching the rest of the men paint. They’d covered the furniture and floor with plastic drop cloths and every movement elicited a symphony of crackling noises.
Turbo sat on Darla’s lap, oblivious to the racket. Abby and Izzy lay stretched on the floor, both dogs cracking open an eye as Charlotte entered before returning to their naps.
Carolina sat on an uncovered chair looking sleepy, her head tilted forward, her under-bite more pronounced than usual.
Charlotte flopped into a spare chair, plastic crinkling beneath her.
“Taking a break?” she asked.
Darla rolled her eyes. “Honey, I am exhausted. We’re too old to be on the floor painting trim. I’ve pulled muscles where I didn’t even know I had any.”
Carolina was the only person not covered it paint splatter.
“You stayed impressively clean,” said Charlotte.
Carolina opened her drooping lids to focus on her. “I’m chef and moral support.”
“She doesn’t deign to paint,” said Darla, glancing at Carolina sidelong.
Carolina glowered back at her.
Still on the ladder, Declan strained to stroke the highest part of the wall. He peered down at Charlotte and mouthed the words, You so owe me.
She chuckled and returned her attention to the ladies.
“It’s a shame we’re trapped here. We could have at least gone to dinner to break up the monotony.”
“We could have walked on the beach with the dogs,” agreed Darla.
“Exactly. You know who else is going stir-crazy? Our neighbors.”
“You talked to them?” asked Mariska.
Charlotte nodded. “There’s a woman named Dinah and the man who owns the place, Emmitt. There’s a nurse too and the residents of course, but they’re mostly bed-bound.”
“That’s too bad,” said Mariska.
Charlotte released and exaggerated sigh. “It’s a shame. They’re there, bored and stuck. We’re here, bored and stuck with enough meat to feed an army...”
Mariska echoed her sigh. “Everybody’s stuck—” Her eyes grew wide and she gasped. “We should invite them over.”
Charlotte tried not to grin.
Fish on. She’d trolled and hooked Mariska.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Mariska clapped her hands together. “The neighbors. We should have them over. Throw a little storm party.”
“I don’t want this place full of invalids,” muttered Carolina.
“Oh shush, Carolina. They won’t bring over the patients. They have a nurse to watch over them.”
Carolina pressed her lips tight. “I did buy cute little mini hamburger buns. I could make mini-burgers.”
“Sliders,” said Charlotte.
“Huh?”
“That’s what they call little burgers. Sliders.”
Carolina scowled. “Why would they call them that?”
Charlotte shrugged and Carolina rolled her eyes.
“Sliders. That doesn’t make any sense. I doubt they slide any easier than a normal-sized burger.”
Charlotte turned her palms to the ceiling to indicate she was also unable to decipher the mysteries of burger nicknames.
Darla sighed. “It would be nice to get a break. And we do have to eat all this food.”
“Agreed. A party is a great idea, Mariska,” said Charlotte.
I’m so glad you thought of it.
Charlotte leapt to her feet. “I’ll go see if they’d be interested. What do you think? About four-thirty, five?”
Mariska eyebrows shot skyward. “Oh, you’re going to ask them now? Today?”
“Sure, why not?”
The ladies looked at one another, nodding. “Okay.”
“I can have something ready by five,” said Carolina.
“Great.”
Charlotte donned her mix and match storm gear.
“Where you going?” asked Bob, carrying his paint roller to the sink to rinse it. Chuck puttered in from the living room to join him.
“We’re going to have a storm party. I’m going over to invite the neighbors.”
Chuck’s eyes lit. “A party?”
Bob scowled. “You’re going to invite the neighbors?”
She nodded.
He motioned to Chuck. “Hide the good stuff.”
Chuck saluted and wandered off to squirrel away the best bourbon as Charlotte walked into the storm.
Wind battering her with rain, bits of plants and sand, Charlotte picked her way through the mud to the front stairs of the nursing home.
She’d sold the ladies on the party. Now she had to ensure the party guests were willing.
Knocking, she turned her back toward the wind and waited for half a second. Dinah answered the door as if she’d been standing behind it for hours, hoping someone would knock.
“Hello Charlotte. Good to see you again. Come in. Did you lose power?”
Charlotte stepped out of the weather. “No. Better news than that. I was wondering if you would be interested in swinging by our house for a little storm party?”
Dinah’s eyes opened wide. “A party? Oh that would be wonderful. We’re so terribly bored.”
“Us too. Does five o’clock work?”
“That would be perfect.”
“Everyone’s invited of course. You, Emmitt, Mr. Marino—”
Dinah tucked back her chin. “Mr. Marino? He’s...he can’t come.”
Charlotte noted Dinah’s stutter. The woman hadn’t said Mr. Marino was dead, so perhaps he still had a room in the house? Her reaction to his name had been strange, as if she’d been shocked to hear it, but Charlotte couldn’t think of a polite way to probe for more information on Mr. Marino’s status.
“I just meant everyone is invited.”
Dinah nodded. “It will be Emmitt and me. The others don’t do parties anymore and Julia will stay to watch them.”
Charlotte nodded and stepped back on to the porch. “Okay, we’ll see you at five. Be careful coming over, though. It is a real mess out here.”
“Should we bring anything?” asked Dinah.
Charlotte smiled and pulled her hood tight around her head.
“Anything but meat.”
Chapter Fifteen
At five-thirty, Seamus knocked on the Elder Care-o-lina’s door and waited as the wind whipped sand into his ears. He hunched over the cling-wrap-covered plate of food he held against his chest, attempting to protect it from the elements. Dinah and Emmitt had been back at their party for twenty-minutes and it was his turn to trigger the next phase of Charlotte’s plan.
Distract the nurse with his irresistible charm and sex appeal.
A middle-aged woman with auburn hair answered the door and then ducked behind it as the wind and rain hit her face.
“Yes?” she asked, her eyes and forehead the only visible parts of her body, poking from behind the door.
“I thought you’d like a snack,” said Seamus, raising his voice above the howling wind.
“What?”
“I said I thought you’d like a snack.”
A roof shingle flew into the side of the house with a bang! and they both jumped.
The woman scowled. “Look, I don’t—”
“Could I come in a second before I’m beheaded?” Seamus asked, offering his most knee-weakening smile
. Next to the devilish wink, the knee-weakening smile was his most effective maneuver.
The nurse sighed and took a step back. “Sure. Come on in.”
Seamus stepped inside and, balancing the party plate in one hand, held out the other. “I’m Seamus, your neighbor this week.”
“I’m Julia. You’re the ones having the party? The ones with the crazy bus?”
He nodded. “Exactly. They let me know you were stuck here caring for the residents and I thought, That’s not right. So I braved the storm and brought you party food.”
He thrust the plate at Julia, who took a moment to consider his offer and then accepted. She set the plate on a small table against the wall before her attention shifted to the floor at Seamus’ feet. A steady pitter-patter of water dripped from his borrowed jacket, covering the entryway with a shallow puddle. The corners of Julia’s mouth drooped a little farther with each drop.
Seamus glanced at his self-made lake. “Tell you what, let me clean that up.”
He ripped off his jacket, hung it on a wooden peg embedded in the wall, stepped out of his shoes as if they were glued to the floor and scooted for the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Hey wait,” called Julia.
He answered over his shoulder without pausing forward momentum. “Not a problem, just a sec...try one of those sliders.”
Seamus flew into the kitchen, gliding on the tiles in his socks, and flipped the lock on the sliding glass door that mimicked the one they had back at their house. Charlotte stood tucked into the corner of the porch, wearing a trash bag secured with a belt around her middle. She looked like a wet cat.
Seamus paused long enough to wink.
Devilish or not, winks always made the ladies feel better.
Charlotte’s dour demeanor remained unchanged.
Seamus heard Julia’s footsteps headed his way and held up a finger, silently asking Charlotte to stay outside a little longer. He grabbed a roll of paper towels from a dispenser and bolted back toward the front door, nearly knocking over Julia as he re-entered the front hall.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking past him into the kitchen.
He put an arm on her shoulder and led her back toward the front door. “Getting paper towels. I wanted to clean up that mess, and I hate to be a bother, but would you give me a hand with the puddle? My back is a mess.”
Julia’s scowled. “You went to get paper towels so that I can clean your puddle?”
“Yes, but with the backing of my full emotional support.” He stopped beside the water and positioned her facing away from the kitchen.
With a huff, Julia pulled a wad of paper towels from the roll and lowered herself to her hands and knees. Seamus waited until she was engaged in the cleanup and then stepped back to find an angle that offered him a view of the back door. Finding it, he motioned to Charlotte that it was safe to enter.
From the corner of his eye he saw Julia’s head swivel toward him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He morphed his frantic motioning to Charlotte into an exaggerated stretch.
“Sometimes it helps if I do a little stretching before I do anything too strenuous,” he said, adopting what he remembered as “warrior” pose. Back during his time in Miami, he’d attended a handful of yoga classes while tailing a woman cheating on her wealthy husband. In the end, he’d discovered that her yoga instructor was a downward dog indeed.
He caught a glimpse of Charlotte slipping into the house and dropped to his hands and knees beside Julia.
“Let me help you with that. I think my back can handle it now,” he said loudly, hoping to cover any noise Charlotte’s entry might make. He chattered about the amazing ability of water to warp wood and yet keep it afloat.
“How is it that a window leak can ruin a hardwood floor in minutes but wooden boats last for years?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Julia, attempting to rise to her feet.
He pulled her back down under the guise of toppling.
“Sorry, lost my balance,” he said, retracting his hand.
Her lips pressed into a white, humorless line, Julia stood. Seamus did the same and cocked his head to listen. He heard nothing. He guessed Charlotte had made it safely into the house.
“I should probably get back to work,” said Julia.
He nodded toward the plate of food sitting on the foyer table.
“Did you try the sliders? They’re great.”
“No. I just had lunch. In fact, I was about to watch a movie.”
Seamus thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Oh yeah? What movie?”
Julia took a deep breath. She seemed very aware—and very annoyed—that he wasn’t eager to leave.
“The Notebook,” she answered, as if someone was pulling the words from her mouth.
Seamus gasped and slapped his hand over his heart. “Oh, isn’t that just the most amazing movie?” He softened his expression to show he’d been nearly moved to tears by the mere mention of the film.
Julia’s expression twisted into a knot of confusion.
“It’s my favorite,” she said, looking at him as if she’d just noticed him standing there. “You’re telling me you like it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like it? Are you kidding? I love it.”
The corner of Julia’s mouth curled into a smile.
Seamus grinned.
Gotcha.
“I didn’t think men liked that movie,” she added.
He straightened and pounded his breast with one fist like an agitated silverback gorilla. “I’m all man, and I can tell you, I love that movie. But, how can you stand it?”
“What? The movie?”
“The crying. I just cry for hours every time I see it.”
She raised her open hand to her own chest. “I know. It’s the most heartbreaking thing. But Ryan Gosling is so…so—”
“Dreamy,” suggested Seamus.
“Yes.” She giggled. “A little young for me though.”
“Nonsense. Now let me ask you. Did you see Nicholas Sparks’ The Longest Ride?”
Julie’s eyes lit. “I did.”
“Well, you know, I haven’t. Would you mind giving me a quick rundown?”
“Won’t I ruin it for you?”
“No, no, not at all. I like knowing—”
Julia opened her mouth to launch into the retelling of the cowboy romance, when a rustling sound at the top of the stairs caused her to freeze and cock her head.
Seamus pegged the noise as the rustling of a trash bag worn as a rain jacket by a person trying to be quiet. He coughed loudly and knocked his jacket off the peg of the coat rack.
“Did you hear something upstairs?” asked Julia, her face turning toward the second floor like a sunflower seeking out the morning sun.
“Hear something? No. Was it me? I coughed and, oh, I dropped my jacket...”
Julia shook her head. “No. What I heard came from upstairs. Give me a second, I need to check on the residents.”
“No.” Seamus touched her upper arm and she shot him a look. He retracted his hand as if she were a hungry alligator. “I mean, if you have to. Of course. You have to make sure everyone is safe. It’s just…I was getting over excited about hearing your breakdown of The Longest Ride.”
Julia stared at him a moment, a smile inching back to her lips.
“I have to go check. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
She started up the stairs.
“I’ll wait here for you!” screamed Seamus at the top of his lungs. “I’ll wait downstairs while you go upstairs and check on the residents because you thought you heard a noise!”
Julia paused and peered down at him from her spot at the banister railing.
“Why are you screaming?” she asked.
He scowled. “Was I loud?”
“Very.”
“So
rry. I had the mumps as a kid. Affected my hearing. Sometimes I have a little trouble with volume control.”
She nodded and continued up the stairs.
“Anyway, I’ll be down here while you check up there!” he screamed one last time.
Seamus held his breath, waiting for a commotion to break out upstairs. After a few minutes, Julia appeared on the stairs once more.
“All well?” he asked.
She nodded. “I guess it was one of the residents.”
Seamus glanced up stairs.
Crinkly Charlotte must be in a good hiding spot.
He looked at the door. Leaving Charlotte alone in the house with old bat-eared Julia, didn’t seem right. He needed to stay and run tackle for her.
He licked his lips and gave the nurse his most sincere stare. “Hey, I don’t want to be too forward, but, do you think I could catch a little of that movie with you?”
“You want to watch The Notebook?”
“Yes. I’m not a big party person. I’d much rather be here with you than making small talk next door.”
Julia beamed and she clasped her hands together beneath her chin like a schoolgirl. “Oh, I’d love the company. You wouldn’t believe how they treat me here.”
“Not good bosses?”
“They treat me like I’m staff.”
Seamus paused, unsure how to respond. “But, you are staff, aren’t you?”
Julia sighed. “Yes. But no one wants to be treated like staff.”
“Right. Right. You’re like one of the family, right?”
Julia’s eyes widened and she pointed at him. “Yes. You understand.”
He patted her on the shoulder. “Of course I do, dear.”
Beaming, Julia headed for the television in the living room and Seamus glanced upstairs. Charlotte peered down at him, half her face half visible at the corner of the hallway wall. Waving his hand, he confirmed she could see him, and hooked his thumb toward the front door. She’d need to sneak out the front door. Once he and Julia stationed themselves in front of the television, they’d be too close to the back door for Charlotte to escape the way she’d entered.
Charlotte nodded and ducked out of sight.
Seamus clapped his hands together as the TV unpaused and The Notebook began to play.