Key to Love

by Judy Ann Davis

  Cindy Peters hung her head staring at her hands a moment before she looked up. “Yes, I’m not a great conversationalist, Miss Springer, and I’d hope I wouldn’t be hired just to amuse people.”

  “Good listeners beat talkers any day,” Elise agreed, wondering why she was even trying to prolong the interview or put the young woman at ease. Yet there was something earthy and intriguing about Cindy Peters underneath her plain facade. “Do you have any hobbies?”

  “I like old movies,” she said. “You know, with Fred Astaire, Cary Grant, or Vivian Leigh. I love to fish, and I’m a gourmet cook.”

  Old movies? Fishing? Gourmet cook? Now they were finally getting somewhere. Elise smiled as Todd scrambled up the steps and skidded to a halt in front of them. Although he had been outside for only a few minutes, his jeans were already smudged with mud and grass stains, and one sneaker had a lace untied.

  Cindy motioned to the boy to draw near.

  “Is that your bike?” he asked.

  “It’s my brother’s.” She bent and tied his sneaker. “There, buddy,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Makes it easier when you have to run and play with your imaginary friends.”

  “You have imaginary friends?” he asked.

  She winked at him. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  He peered up at her. “Can I sit on your bike?”

  “Sure. How about before I leave?”

  Grinning, he faced Elise. “Can I go see Uncle Lucas?”

  “If you wipe your shoes,” she instructed, smiling back. He made a half-hearted effort to scrub his sneakers on the doormat before he tugged the door open, letting a mud-covered Bess slip in ahead of him. His sneakers pounded on the oak stairs.

  “Let’s go inside,” Elise said. Together they headed for the kitchen where she offered Cindy a seat by the table. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Anything is fine. A soft drink if you have it.”

  Elise handed her a glass and can. “Now tell me the truth, what happened with your last case?”

  The girl paused and stared at her a moment. “The patient, a male, wanted more than just my nursing skills,” she admitted in a low voice. “I couldn’t afford to file a complaint. I need the work. I have a lot of loans to pay from school.”

  Elise felt her stomach do a backflip as she pushed the sickening image of Philip Cullington groping at her into a far corner of her mind. “It looks like you have some experience with children.”

  “They’re the easiest to talk to,” Cindy admitted, smiling. “I like kids. I’m from a family of eight.”

  “Eight?”

  Their conversation was interrupted again when Todd tore back down the steps and skidded to a halt before the refrigerator. He tugged at the door handle. “Uncle Lucas and Fritz want another iced tea.” He pulled out two cans of Coors Light and was half way across the room when Elise stopped him. “No, not those,” she said, gently. “I’ll have to get it from the pitcher.”

  He shook his head and dug in, clutching the cans to his little chest and staring at her wide-eyed. “No, Uncle Lucas said they were in shiny cans, like the handles on my bike. Like a silver bullet.”

  “Oh, did he now?” Elise pried the cans from the boy’s grip and set them on the counter. She smiled, amused at the thought of foiling Lucas’s plans. “Why don’t you go play outside with Bess for a bit more? I’ll take the iced tea up to them in a minute.”

  “Good, ’cause Uncle Lucas is reeeeal grouchy.” The little boy wrinkled his nose and raced off again with Bess trotting beside him. The screen door banged shut behind them.

  “Now, where were we?” Elise asked, smiling and glancing at Cindy Peters.

  ****

  Upstairs Lucas batted at a soggy piece of paw print wallpaper starting to peel from the wall and creep slowly onto his sweaty head.

  “Jeez, Fritz,” he growled, whirling and hammering it back in place with his fist. “You have to be a freakin’ human octopus to hang this stuff. I thought it was pre-pasted.” They were both covered from head to foot in paste, water, and scraps of wallpaper.

  “Maybe we soaked it too much,” Fritz said, frowning. “Did you read the instructions?”

  “Hell, no. Did you?”

  “Why should I? I’m not in charge here.”

  Lucas sighed. “If any one of us were in charge, dude, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Good point. Hey, I got an idea. We’ll just try some of this paste we used for the border and smear it on the wall instead.” Fritz handed him a large paintbrush, its handle sticky and crusted with paste. He squinted at the seams curling away from each other. “Mother made it look so easy.”

  “Everything your mother did looked easy. This is a damned catastrophe, thanks to you. You were supposed to have taken mental notes in that fuzzy pea brain of yours.”

  “Me? Wait a second, don’t blame me. This wasn’t my idea! How did you ever let my crazy sister talk you into this?”

  Too weary for a rebuttal, Lucas leaned his head against the soggy wall. “Your sister could talk Lucifer out of hell,” he whispered. “I need a beer. Just one lousy beer. I wonder what happened to our little sidekick?”

  Fritz glanced at the sawhorses they had set up on layers of plastic drop cloths. Two glasses of iced tea, untouched, sat on the end of the planks. Elise had absolutely forbidden them to have any alcoholic beverages until they finished.

  Lucas followed his gaze and shot him a sour look, then gestured with a paste-crusted finger at the iced tea. “Don’t even offer me that swamp water Elise calls iced tea. Where is Todd?”

  “If I know Lizzie, she intercepted his beer run. Honestly, Lucas, don’t you think the silver bullet description was pushing it a bit?”

  “Then why don’t you make yourself useful and get us a can? Don’t tell me you want to drink that crap?”

  Fritz measured another piece of paper. “What’s got into you?”

  “Everything. You name it. Your sister, for starters.”

  “Don’t tell me she didn’t like the car? No one—absolutely no one—would pass that up. It’s everyone’s dream machine.” With a retractable box-cutter in hand, Fritz deftly sliced off a piece of wallpaper from the roll.

  Lucas grunted. “She didn’t even take it out. We had a little tiff last night. Monique left a message on the answering machine.”

  “I thought it was over.”

  Lucas pushed his hand through his hair, only to realize he had now covered his head with paste. Cursing under his breath, he growled, “It is over, moron.”

  Fritz regarded him with a curious look. “Wait a second. So what does my sister have to do with Monique? What’s going on here?” His eyes were wary now.

  Lucas scowled. “Nothing, that’s the problem.”

  “Did you tell her you’re rich?”

  “I told her.” Lucas stooped to dunk the last piece of paper in the water tray. He didn’t want to add it only seemed to make things worse.

  “Does Dad know you’re...ah, interested?” Fritz helped him take the last piece to the wall and set the seams.

  “You want him to have a relapse?” Using a brush, Lucas smoothed the paper up the wall. “What do you know about Sanders?”

  “Chuck? Nice guy. He stopped in here once when they were flying to a convention in Pittsburgh.”

  “Is there something between them?”

  Fritz considered it for a minute. “Naw, I think it’s just a creative partnership. She was engaged once, but not to Sanders.”

  “She was?” Lucas felt a jolt of shock and wondered why she had not mentioned it the other night in the living room. Then he wondered why it bothered him.

  “To a Philip Cullington. His daddy was a big wheel in the construction industry some place in California. They went together for three years and then it just seemed to suddenly fall apart...evaporate. Next thing I knew, it was over. Hey, that seam looks crooked, doesn’t it?”

  Lucas threw him a threatening look. “Shut up and get the bee
r before I beat the crap out of you.”

  “Ah, come on, Lucas, you know Elise.” Fritz surveyed the papered wall a moment more, scowling. “She’ll break my wrists and ankles.”

  “I wish. Get a move on. I’ll start cleaning up.” A glint of humor flashed briefly in Lucas’s eyes. “If you don’t come back with a can, I swear I’ll cancel all my insurance policies with your company. Right down to the last penny.”

  Fritz’s hands went up defensively as he slowly backed out of the room. “Okay, okay! Hey, I understand a thinly veiled threat when it’s delivered with tact and subtlety.”

  ****

  Fritz entered the kitchen in his usual electrifying way, Elise thought, as she watched him bound off the bottom step and swagger into the kitchen. Oblivious to Cindy Peters sitting at the table, he went straight to the refrigerator and searched the shelves.

  “Who owns the sweet ride in the front yard?” He pulled out two cans of Coors Light.

  “Cindy’s brother.”

  Brows wrinkled, he turned to look at her before his gaze swung to the young woman. He smiled, flashing even white teeth. “Whoa, you’re a little thing to be on a big sucker like that.”

  “My older brother, Fritz. The family clown,” Elise said by way of introduction. “You’ll get immune to him, everybody usually does. I just hired Cindy to help when Dad comes home. She’s a registered nurse and a gourmet cook.”

  “Gourmet, eh?” He tried unsuccessfully to wipe the paste from his sticky hands onto his already soiled tee-shirt. “I’d shake your hand, but then we’d be stuck to each other and you’d be forced to take me home with you.”

  Cindy laughed as Elise grunted out a sound of disgust and rolled her eyes heavenward. She said, “How about turning off the charm for a moment and washing up so you can give Cindy a quick tour of the house and grounds? I want to see how far Lucas and you have progressed on Todd’s bedroom. And could you please check on Todd? He’s outside with Bess.”

  “Lucas is finishing up.” Fritz snickered and tossed her a can of Coors. “Here, take him his Prozac before he goes bonkers. He definitely isn’t cut out for playing with sharp objects, but he’s got the paste under control.”

  Minutes later, Elise found Lucas bent over a bucket of water, scrubbing his hands. The sawhorses were stacked and the room partially cleaned. She surveyed their handiwork. For amateurs, it didn’t look too bad. The seams would need to be rolled one more time. She held up the can of beer. “Delivering your paycheck.”

  He looked up, hurriedly dried his hand on an old towel, then strode toward her and snatched the cold can, popping the tab and taking a long swig. “There is a God,” he said, sighing deeply. “What happened to my sidekick?”

  “Which one? Fritz? He defected.” Elise walked to the opposite side of the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. They studied each other silently.

  “I hired a nurse.”

  He took another sip of beer. His eyes glittered like a panther’s. “You went to bed last night without eating dinner.”

  “I think she’ll get along well with Dad.”

  “You never let me explain, Liz.” He set the beer aside and walked toward her. He stopped and stared at her. The seconds ticked by, slowly and uncomfortably.

  “She says she’s a gourmet cook. At least we’ll have some decent meals.” She felt him closing in, just like a predatory animal.

  “It’s all over with Monique,” he said quietly. “Over, you hear me?”

  “Fritz is giving her a tour of the house.” Her voice was now a bare whisper. The tension crackled between them. A hand came up, palm flat against the wall beside her head.

  “Are you listening to me?” His face was inches from her.

  She nodded.

  “Good. Wonders never cease.”

  She pressed her hands against his chest to ward him off. The stillness of the room only heightened their sensual awareness of each other. “Lucas, you’re covered with paste,” she stammered.

  “I know. Just one kiss, Lizzie, only one. You’re looking at a broken, desperate paperhanger who’s craving a morsel of compassion.”

  Their lips touched in a fury of emotion. She felt his frenzied need as he urged her to respond, dragging his lips over hers again and again. It was a highly charged mating of mouths that finally clashed and tangled, and when she felt her lungs burn she realized she needed to breathe. He broke away, allowing her to gulp a mouthful of air.

  “I needed that.” He drew in a deep breath and stepped back, giving her room, but there was no mistaking the lust lingering in his gray eyes.

  In the hall, the clatter of feet brought them both to attention. Todd burst into the room. His eyes were bright and animated as his gaze swept over the new decor. “This is all mine?” he asked breathlessly. His little arms swung up and outward from his body as he embraced the room.

  “Yes, as soon as we finish up and put the furniture back.” Elise watched him pick up a wooden roller and curiously inspect it. “What’s this, Eee-lise?”

  “It’s a roller, and it’s used to smooth out the seams.” She loved the way he drew out the vowel at the front of her name. “Here, I’ll show you.” She demonstrated how to roll the seams, gently sliding the roller up and down the walls.

  “Come here, you can do it,” she invited and pulled him in front of her, kneeling and cupping his little hands around the roller. “We have to go easy so we don’t rip the damp paper.”

  The little boy giggled as they worked the roller up and down the wall. She felt Lucas sneak up and kneel behind her.

  “You help Todd,” he whispered in her ear, leaning over her. “I’ll just lend encouragement.”

  His hands slipped under her shirt and caressed the bare skin at her waist. She laughed and tried to bat them away with one hand and still hold on to the roller and Todd’s tiny hands.

  “Shhh,” Lucas whispered, nuzzling her on the side of the neck. “This is one job I know how to do.”

  “Isn’t this fun?” Todd squealed excitedly, working the roller up and down the wall.

  “Absolutely,” Lucas murmured in agreement. “Keep it up, sport. We have the entire wall to do.”

  “Lucas!” Elise felt a series of shocks course through her as his hands worked their way upward. “Lucas, stop it,” she said with a hiss.

  From the open doorway, she heard Fritz clear his throat. “Looks good, guys, maybe you ought to take a break.”

  “Go away,” Lucas said and planted another kiss at the back of Elise’s neck. “We’re not finished yet.”

  “Oh, buddy, I think you are,” Fritz said and followed it with a nervous chuckle. “Mrs. Pedmo is here.”

  “Here?” The words came out simultaneously as they turned together and flew apart. The roller in Todd’s hands clattered to the floor. Lucas fell to a sitting position with Todd on top of him. Elise popped upright like a jack-in-the-box.

  “Yep, right here,” Fritz assured them, leaning casually on the doorjamb. Beside him, a stern-looking Mrs. Pedmo stepped into the room.

  It would have been totally embarrassing, Elise thought, as she tried to straighten her tee-shirt, if it hadn’t been for Todd who jumped up and raced toward the door waving the roller in the air at Mrs. Pedmo.

  “They’re teaching me to flatten the wallpaper,” he said proudly, grinning up at her smiling face. He pulled Mrs. Pedmo into the room. “Look! Dogs! My favorite animal. All around the ceiling, and here’s where they walked on the wall.” He pointed to the paw-printed paper.

  Elise cringed and felt her face flame. She had no idea how she was going to explain to Mrs. Pedmo the scenario she had just witnessed. She glanced at Fritz who merely flashed her a wily grin, waved, and slipped away down the hall.

  “How fortunate you could stop by, Mrs. Pedmo,” she heard Lucas say, moving toward her, completely at ease. He extended his hand. “I thought you were stopping here on Monday?”

  The pink-haired woman was more gracious than Elise had hoped. She smi
led and acted as if she had never seen a blessed thing. “I saw your cars and thought I’d just stop by and get this home visit over with.” She glanced appreciatively about the room, her eyes pausing on the can of beer for barely a second. “My, it certainly will look appropriate for someone like this young man.” She ruffled Todd’s hair affectionately.

  Elise slid a sideways glance at Lucas. Instead of looking sheepish or distraught, he was now grinning outright at Mrs. Pedmo. “Maybe you’d like a drink of iced tea, Mrs. Pedmo?” he asked.

  “Yes, oh, yes,” Elise stammered, “and I can show you the rest of the house.”

  “Oh, no need.” Mrs. Pedmo waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “I’ve seen it many times when I used to play bridge with your mother, but I’ll take a glass of tea. We do need to talk.”

  “I’ll wash up, change clothes, and be down in second,” Lucas reassured her. He swiped at the paste on his shirt.

  “That might be a good idea.” Mrs. Pedmo surveyed him with a quick, motherly perusal, a twinkle in her eye. “Looks like you have as much paste on yourself as on the walls.”

  Lucas turned to Todd. “Why don’t you go find Fritz? Or take Bess out on the lawn for a few minutes? I’ll be out in a minute to play ball with you.”

  Downstairs, Elise’s stomach quivered uncontrollably and her hands shook as she poured the tea. Outside on the porch, Fritz and Cindy were discussing Cajun cooking. Out on the lawn she could hear Todd squealing as he tossed a tennis ball to Bess. Elise handed Pedmo a glass. “We can sit in the living room where it’s comfortable if you like.”

  “Oh, heavens no. This is fine.” The elderly woman’s gaze circled the airy, light-filled room. “I always admired your mother’s kitchen. It’s so spacious, warm, and inviting.” She pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table.

  Lucas returned shortly. He had washed his hands and arms and pulled on a clean tee-shirt and jeans. Traces of paste still clung to his dark, glossy hair. He took a seat across from Twila Pedmo.

  “You realize, my first concern is Todd,” Mrs. Pedmo said, shifting into her foster care mode. “He goes to pre-school in the morning and will need proper supervision in the afternoon.”