by Melinda Metz
“Picasso gives me a headache,” Regina answered. “If I was going to wear something designed by a painter it would be Monet.”
“Bor-ing,” Rich shot back. “But it would be an upgrade on the beige on beige on beige you usually wear.”
“This is not beige.” Regina fingered one of the pearl buttons of her sweater set. “It’s champagne pink.”
It actually looked beige to Nate, too, but he wasn’t going there. “Looks like you’ve all finished,” he said to the group. “Why don’t we take a walk over to the bungalow and you can see the setup? We have tea and coffee, and the daily papers are there.”
“I’m more worried about health risks than beverages and reading materials,” Eliza said.
“Before we reopen the rooms, I’ll have the air quality tested.” He hadn’t been planning to, but it would make extra sure everyone at The Gardens was safe.
Eliza toyed with the chain of the silver heart locket studded with diamonds she always wore, then gave a reluctant nod. “I suppose that will be all right.”
“She’s always looking out for me, and she’s no Dumb Dora,” Archie said, giving his granddaughter’s waist a squeeze.
Nate’s cell buzzed, and he glanced at the text that had come in. “That was from Amelia. She’s already rounded up some books. Shall we go over to the bungalow? I know you two are going to be needing your crossword fix,” he told Rich and Regina.
“Do you do crosswords, Archie?” Janet asked, fluffing her extremely bright red hair. “Those two”—she nodded toward Rich and Regina—“have a competition every morning to see who can do the one from the New York Times the fastest. In pen. Maybe you and I could try it.”
“If Archie wants competition, he should go against me,” Regina said. “You should play against Rich. It’ll give him the chance to win for once.”
“Does this kind of thing happen often?” Eliza inquired, falling into step beside Nate as the group headed out. “You had a very good rating in U.S. News and World Report. Do you know how often the residences are reevaluated?”
“Every year,” Nate answered. “And while we do have minor issues with maintenance once in a while, this kind of thing isn’t at all common.”
“Not at all,” Peggy chimed in. “I’ve been here for three years, and Nate keeps everything in wonderful condition. I love it.”
“And I already love it, too,” Archie told her, looking at her with such intensity Nate noticed that the tips of her ears had gone pink. Maybe it was a good thing Gib had skipped breakfast.
Nate appreciated Peggy jumping to defend The Gardens, but he didn’t think Eliza was completely satisfied. She was definitely going to be a family member who needed a lot of attention. But he’d rather have someone like her, who was a micromanager, than have a resident whose family had almost no contact.
He opened the door to the bungalow. Amelia had pulled some furniture in from storage and had a bookcase halfway full. Multiple copies of several newspapers lay on the table in front of a sectional sofa. “Already looking good,” he said. He started for the kitchen to check on the coffee and tea, but his cell started to play “Ghostbusters,” his mom’s ring, just because she had a lot of things she needed help with—and “who ya gonna call?”
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” he asked.
“There’s someone lurking outside the house,” she said, her voice tight.
Nate wasn’t worried. His mom got lonely, and he understood that. He just wished instead of creating some kind of crisis, she’d simply invite him over for dinner. No, she doesn’t create them, he reminded himself, trying to be fair. His mother truly believed it when she told him there were raccoons in the basement. She believed it when she told him she smelled something electrical burning. And now she believed there was someone outside her house.
“Lurking?” he repeated, already heading toward the closest exit.
“Yes!” she hissed. “I can see him right now. Under the jacaranda tree.”
“Are you sure it’s not just tree shadows?” he asked as he stepped outside.
“I’m sure! Are you coming?”
“Already on the way. We can stay on the phone until I get there.” He should be at her place in less than two minutes. She lived on the grounds, in the house where he grew up, the house his great-grandfather built. “Is he still there?” Nate picked up his pace. Her fear was real, even if he was sure there was no reason for it.
“I . . . I think so,” she replied. He could picture her rubbing the spot where her wedding ring used to be. She’d stopped wearing it when his dad took off, but even after all these years, she still fingered the place when she was feeling nervous.
“Don’t worry. Almost there. I can see the house.” He jogged straight over to the jacaranda tree. Nobody there.
But somebody had been. There were shoe prints under the jacaranda between the low stone wall and the base of the tree.
“Well?” his mother called from the open front door.
“I don’t see anything to worry about!” he called back. Then he used one foot to rub out the shoe prints he’d found. He wasn’t going to terrify her by telling her the truth.
“I’m going to have security make some extra rounds around the place, just to be on the safe side,” he added as he walked up the porch steps. “Make sure you turn on the security system, okay?” For someone as nervous as she was, she forgot to set the alarm as much as she remembered.
“Can you stay for a little while?” his mother asked. “I’ll make hot chocolate.”
“Great.” He’d never been able to tell her that sometime when he was a teenager he started finding the drink way too sweet, especially with the gobs of marshmallows he’d loved as a kid. And it was never something he’d wanted in July.
She smiled at him. “They had the colored marshmallows at the store this week. I know they’re your favorite. I bought the jumbo bag.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He was struck, as he often was, by how much younger she was than most of the residents at The Gardens. Not even sixty, but Peggy, Janet, and Regina were so much more active than she was, even though they were all seventy-something. They were always out and about. Still interested in everything. Still interested in romance. His mom went to the store once a week, and once a month she went with Nathalie to get their hair done. That was about it.
His cell played the ringtone he’d chosen for Bob, the head of the maintenance crew. “Got to take this,” he told his mother. “I’ll be right in.” She nodded and headed for the kitchen. “Any news, Bob?” he asked when he picked up the call.
“Want good or bad?” Bob asked. He always acted like he had to pay for every word he used.
“Bad,” Nate immediately answered. He always wanted the bad news first. Sometimes bad required immediate action.
“Scentsations guy found the problem.”
“Great. And?”
“Parts of a dead skunk and some rotten food jammed in the boxes where we put the oil.”
And then the system did its job and pumped the dead skunk smell into the library and TV lounge. Sabotage. It was the only possibility. “I’ll be right over.”
First evidence that someone had been watching his mother’s house. Now this. What the hell was going on at The Gardens?
CHAPTER 5
Briony cracked open the front door and peered inside to make sure Mac wasn’t poised to make an escape. The cat wasn’t in sight, so she swung the door wide, and Diogee started yanking her toward the kitchen. Briony managed to shut the door with her foot, then trotted after the big dog. He stopped in front of his biscuit jar.
“I guess you worked up an appetite.” Briony unhooked his leash and gave him a treat.
Okay, one thing off the to-do list she’d made yesterday when she got home from Ruby’s. She’d walked the dog. More like he’d walked her, but it still counted. She pulled out her cell and scanned the list. She’d chosen the easiest first. Next up, her parents. She’d texted them to say she’d arrived safely,
but she owed them a call. Well, a FaceTime. They liked to see her when they talked. And she looked absolutely presentable. She had on the black pants and striped shirt again, but she’d touched them up with an iron. Her hair was twisted into a chignon, and she had done the makeup basics, plus some extra concealer to cover the dark smudges under her eyes. She’d also doused her eyes with Visine, so she wouldn’t look like she’d spent half the day yesterday crying. She was ready.
When the connection was made, her mother launched into a series of questions, without leaving any space for Briony to reply. “Are you all right? Are you okay being alone? Have you talked to Caleb? Have you talked to anyone from the wedding?” She sucked in a breath, then continued. “Should I come out there? I don’t know what we were thinking sending you off someplace by yourself. If your cousin was home, that would be different. But I hate thinking of you all alone, after . . . what happened. I really think you need someone to look after you. What if you faint again? What if—”
“Mom, I’m fine,” Briony interrupted. “Truly.”
“That’s impossible. No one would be fine after . . . what happened. I know we had the doctor look you over, but I wonder if you need to see someone else. Passing out like that . . . Maybe you need an MRI or a CAT scan. I can find out—”
“I’m fine,” Briony repeated.
“Have you had any symptoms since you arrived?” her mother pressed.
“None,” Briony told her. It was easier to lie when her mother was all the way across the country.
“Still, James, what do you think? Don’t you think a second opinion would be the smart thing to do?” Briony’s mother asked.
Her dad looked back and forth between Briony and her mother, like he was deciding whose side to take. “It couldn’t hurt,” he finally said.
“I’ll look into it,” Briony replied, because otherwise they’d be discussing the possibility for the next hour. And actually, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe she’d passed out because of some kind of vitamin deficiency. Or maybe—
But in her gut, she knew the truth. Ruby was right. Her body had known what her brain wouldn’t accept. Marrying Caleb wasn’t the right decision for her, even though her parents and friends thought they were perfect together. Even though Caleb was, in fact, perfect.
“Let’s talk about the gifts,” Briony said. Dealing with the gifts was also on her to-do list. “I was thinking I could write notes to everyone and send the notes to you. If I do that, could you arrange for the presents to be returned?”
“Already taken care of,” her father assured her. “Your mom wrote the notes, and the gifts are on their way back to the guests.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. Thanks, both of you.” She hesitated. “What did you say in the notes, Mom?”
“Just that you’d been doing so much before the wedding that you’d gotten run-down and dehydrated—which I still think could be true—and fainted. I said since we weren’t sure when the wedding would be rescheduled, we’d decided to return the gifts.”
“But I never said the wedding would be rescheduled,” Briony protested. “I’ve already returned the ring to Caleb.”
Briony could hear her mother’s breath catch. “You can’t possibly know what you want to do right now. You need time to rest and recover. And to make sure there isn’t a medical issue we need to deal with, other than getting so run-down.”
“I actually wasn’t run-down. Caleb and the wedding planner, and both of you, did—”
“Don’t make any decisions right now,” her mother said. “And don’t worry. Your father and I will take care of everything.”
“Your mom’s right.” He leaned closer to the computer screen, as if that would bring him closer to her. “Right now, you just need to take care of yourself.”
After giving several more reassurances that she would see a doctor, Briony ended the call. She wished her mother would have waited before she wrote notes to everyone, but at least the gift situation was handled.
Next up, she needed to get in touch with Vi. Her best friend since fourth grade and maid of honor had been bombarding her with texts and voice mails, but Briony hadn’t been able to make herself read or listen to them.
Her heart began to palpitate a little as she considered what to say about the whole wedding fiasco. Finally, she simply texted “Hi.”
Vi replied almost instantly.
OMG. Where are you? Your parents wouldn’t tell.
LA. Pet sitting at cousin’s place.
Caleb’s freaking out. Your parents didn’t tell him, either. WHAT HAPPENED??
Panic attack. Mom insists I was dehydrated, run-down, possibly with a tumor. But actually total panic attack.
I need more info. Panic being in front of all those people???
I belatedly, extremely belatedly, realized I didn’t want to get married.
Oh no! You kept asking everyone at your bachelorette party if they thought you should get married. But I thought that was just you being you.
What? I did? What do you mean, me being me?
You know. You always ask for advice. You ask if you should bring an umbrella, what shoes to wear, if you should ask for a raise. You asked the waiter at Olive Garden what college to go to.
No, I didn’t!
Yeah, you did. You do it so much, you probably don’t even realize you do it. That’s why you and Caleb are so perfect together. He never gets tired of you asking his opinion. But he’s not all controlling. So, you don’t want to be with Caleb? Mind blown.
Mine too. He’s perfect. I’m crazy for not wanting to be with him. But I don’t. Even thinking about him? My heart is going boom, boom, boom. And not in a good way.
Have you talked to him?
No.
Briony!
I know! But I couldn’t. What was I supposed to say? I sent the ring back. I said I was sorry. In a note. Just those words. “I’m so sorry.” I know I have to do something else.
Ya think?
I just don’t know how to explain.
Yeah. Noticed.
What should I say?
See! That’s what I mean. You never do anything without asking a committee.
You’re not a committee. And it’s hard.
Sigh. Yeah. Tell him you’ve decided to become a nun.
I might. Actually, maybe I should join a convent. After what I did to Caleb, I shouldn’t inflict myself on anyone.
Awww. No. You didn’t hurt him on purpose. But you do have to talk to him.
I know. I will. Sometime . . .
I gotta get to work. To be continued.
Thanks. Sorry. I’ll pay for your dress.
You will not. Laters, baby.
For that you get the eye roll.
Vi didn’t respond. Briony would have to talk to her more later.
Had Briony really asked everyone at the bachelorette party if she should be getting married? She couldn’t remember. There’d been Nutella shots at the party. And she’d had maybe a couple too many. She wasn’t a big drinker.
She remembered Caleb making her a disgusting but surprisingly effective hangover cure the next day, but the details of the party were fuzzy-wuzzy. The bachelorette party was a week before the wedding. And if Vi was right, Briony was already having doubts. She let out a long sigh. It would have been helpful if she’d been conscious of that sometime before she started down the aisle.
“Okay, I know I need to call Caleb.” Her heart gave a hiccup. “But at least I’ve started on my to-do list. I’m doing better, right, guys?” Briony asked.
Diogee thumped his tail from his spot by her feet. Briony scratched his head, which made the tail thump harder.
“What about you, kitty? What do you think?” Briony asked.
Oh, my god. I just asked a cat and dog their opinion. Is Vi right? Do I really ask advice before I do anything? “Do I?” she asked aloud.
Diogee gave her more wags. Briony looked around for Mac. Where was he? She jumped up. “Mac? Mac, Mac, Mac? MacGyver?�
� She turned in a circle, searching the room. “Kitty want a snack?”
There was no answering mew, although at the word snack, Diogee ran to the kitchen and positioned himself underneath his treat jar. Briony gave him a biscuit, then began searching the house.
After she’d searched every room twice, she had to admit that the cat was gone. Again! “What do I do?” she asked Diogee, then slapped herself on the forehead. She was doing it again. Asking an animal his opinion.
She realized she was still holding her cell. That was it. She’d call that guy from the retirement place. She didn’t remember his name, but his number was in the phone from when he’d called her.
Briony pulled up her call history. Yeah, okay, there it was. She punched the little phone receiver icon, and a few seconds later the guy picked up. “This is Nate.”
“Hello. This is Briony Kleeman. I’m the person who is pet sitting for MacGyver, the cat you called me about yesterday.” She forced herself to speak slowly and clearly, and not like an insane person, because he had every reason to think she was an insane person after the way she’d shown up yesterday. “The cat is missing again, and I wondered if perhaps you’d seen him.”
“I haven’t,” Nate said. “But I’ll keep an eye out, and let you know if I spot him.”
“That would be terribly wonderful,” Briony answered. Had she just started speaking with a British accent? That wasn’t going to help her appear less insane! “Thank you awfully,” she added. Yes, she was definitely using an accent.
“I think you should be human sitting me,” she told Diogee after she hung up. “You have more sense. Where do you think MacGyver is?” And she was asking the dog for advice again.
* * *
Nate decided to stop by Gib’s on the off chance that the crazy woman’s cat was over there. Although she hadn’t seemed especially crazy on the phone just now. Except for the part where it sounded like she started speaking with a British accent.