A House for Keeping

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A House for Keeping Page 12

by Matteson Wynn

My phone didn’t chime, so I checked that I’d gotten her text. It was there. And so were a bunch of missed calls from Meg. I must’ve accidentally put my phone on mute when I hung up on her earlier. I sighed. She was not going to be a happy camper when I got back.

  I put my phone, and thoughts of Meg, away. I wanted to take advantage of the chance to talk with Zo, short as the ride home was.

  As she pulled onto the street, I said, “Well breakfast was…interesting.”

  Zo glanced at me, then back at the road. “Interesting?”

  “Under the circumstances, my other option was something along the lines of ‘this is all kind of whacked’ so, yeah, I think ‘interesting’ is the safe way to go.”

  “Hmph.”

  After a moment I said, “You guys say the house is alive, right? Which brings up a whole bunch of other questions. Do you guys know why the house is alive or where it came from? And, besides it being alive, which is cool and all, why is everyone so hot and bothered to have access to it? You guys said it’s a, what, a guardian? What’s it guarding?”

  Zo nodded. “Those are all excellent questions.”

  Which, apparently, she wasn’t going to answer. I pushed on. “Well, I don’t know about the house, but I have a theory about the rest of it. These families are all in a cold war, right? You’ve got competing interests, in this case families instead of countries, looking to gain control of a valuable asset. To do that, they’ve wound up engaged in an arms race. Each of them is constantly inventing these crazy advanced gadgets to try and one-up each other and gain access to the house. Given the level of tech they’ve got access to, I’m betting they’re all heavily involved in shady government agencies. Ooh, is this is a thing where each family is loyal to a different government agency? Like, a battle of the alphabet soup agencies—sort of like Batman vs. Superman, but instead it’s FBI vs. CIA vs. NSA?”

  “I see your caffeine has kicked in.”

  “You bet. So am I right?”

  Zo was quiet for a minute. “You say you want to leave here. If you really are planning to go, then the less you know the better.”

  “Is this a Godfather thing where they’ll just keep pulling me back in?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It makes you a target. You’ve already seen how much fun that is. Besides, it’s not my place.”

  I harrumphed.

  “Look, Finn, we’re trying to strike a balance here. Something is really wrong with this round of the selections. That hasn’t happened before. Since changing the status quo could have…we’ll call them impressive negative consequences—”

  “Like Gram?”

  “Among other things. It’s in everyone’s best interests to make sure you at least know the basics. But, there’s this little dance of telling you enough to be helpful, but not telling you so much that you get sucked into all this permanently.”

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve still got to get through the rest of this weekend.”

  “It’s only a day and a half. How bad can it be?”

  Zo said, “You had to say that, didn’t you.”

  I stopped asking questions and sat mulling things over for the rest of the drive. We arrived back at Zo’s house, and I found Fuzzy curled up with a black-and-white cat twice his size, both of them snoozing in a sunbeam.

  “I see you made a friend,” I said.

  Fuzzy stretched, yawned, and I picked him up. The black-and-white cat blinked at me. “And who are you?”

  “That’s Moonpie. Thanks for keeping an eye on Fuzzy, pal.” Moonpie blinked at us and went back to sleep.

  It seemed to me that people who named their cat Moonpie shouldn’t balk at the name Fuzzy, but I said nothing. Besides, Moonpie fit him.

  “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to the house.”

  “Uh, Fuzzy really doesn’t like the car.”

  “Well, he’s just going to have to buck up. You’re in no shape to hike for an hour through woods.”

  Fuzzy and I got into Zo’s car, and she drove us back toward the Foster house. I don’t know if it was because he was feeling more settled overall, or if it was because I had both hands on him instead of on the steering wheel, but Fuzzy sat quietly looking out the window and didn’t make a peep the entire drive.

  “The turn is kind of hard to find,” I said.

  “I know where it is,” Zo said.

  We drove past the woods I’d walked through earlier that morning. I spent a few minutes studying the sun-dappled trees. “Does all of this belong to the Fosters?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, it’s huge. And it’s really beautiful. House aside, I could totally see people fighting over the property.”

  And speaking of fighting people, from the gazillion missed calls on my phone, I had the feeling that Meg was a tad bit irritated at my absence. I clutched Fuzzy and tried to psych myself up to prepare for the forthcoming drama. I wasn’t sure if we’d be talking full-on Real Housewives, but I knew there’d be drama.

  As she approached the driveway, Zo said, “I take it I have your permission to drive you up to the house?”

  “What? Oh sure!”

  She turned into the driveway and I said, “I know the Fosters have some strict rules about who can visit, but at this point I think they can just stuff it. You’re my guest, and you’re welcome to come on in to the house with me. I’m really grateful to you for all you’ve done for me—and Fuzzy—and I’d be happy to make you a cup of coffee or tea, if you’d like one.”

  Zo smirked. “I’d love to see the look on Meg’s face. Thank you for the offer, but no. I’ve got some things to do.”

  “Well my offer stands for tomorrow. I’m totally happy to drive on over and help you start righting your yard. Just let me know if you need me.”

  Zo looked touched. “Thank you for that. Ah, we’re here.”

  The giant trees loomed before us, marking the entrance to the clearing where the house stood. I did a little wave at them, then blushed when Zo shot me a look.

  “I, uh, really like the trees.”

  “I can see that.”

  Zo drove around the circular driveway and stopped in front of the house. A black luxury car that hadn’t been there before was parked near Babs in the little side lot.

  “Oops, looks like the council lady is here,” I said.

  Zo frowned. “Be careful, Finn.”

  I shrugged. “What are they going to do? Give me a firm talking to? Please, it wouldn’t be my first, and probably won’t be the last. And if they kick me out, well that just means I get to finally visit the ocean all that much sooner.”

  Zo just shook her head and gave me a reluctant smile. I climbed out of the car with Fuzzy. As I started to walk away, Zo powered down the passenger side window. “Call if you need us.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked up the steps, which made happy-sounding little squeaks as I climbed, like I was walking over a pile of squeaky toys. When I reached the porch, I put my hand on the porch column, gave it a little pat, and the whole house sighed. I turned around to find Zo watching, eyes narrowed, gaze darting between me and the house.

  The front door burst open, and Meg charged out onto the porch. “Finn!” She stopped short and looked over my shoulder at Zo.

  Zo sent her a serene smile, gave me a little wave, and drove off.

  I turned around, and Meg’s face looked pinched.

  “You’ve got really nice neighbors,” I said, and I walked past her into the house.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once I’d entered the house, I headed straight up the stairs.

  “I’m just going to put Fuzzy in my room. I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” I called to Meg, who’d followed me inside. I sprinted up the stairs before she had a chance to respond.

  When Fuzzy and I got to my room, I shut the door behind us quickly. Then, I stopped short. The room was bigger. It’d been cozy in there yesterday—comfortable for sure, but there
was barely enough space for me and Fuzzy to play without tripping over my suitcase.

  Now there was at least twice as much space between the bed and the bathroom. And where had those two chairs come from?

  I supposed the house had its reasons for rearranging. I shrugged and decided to go with it.

  I deposited Fuzzy on the bed and put some fresh water in his bowl. “How do you think I should handle this?” I asked him. He yawned.

  I yawned, too, and looked longingly at my pillow. I’d have loved to take a nap with him, but I knew if I didn’t appear in the kitchen promptly, Meg would be banging on my door.

  I wondered how much I should tell Meg about my morning. I thought over the dinner last night, and from the way Nor and Wil were behaving, I was pretty sure they knew all about the house and the different families involved in the feud. That meant I was the only one left in the dark.

  It put a sick little knot in my stomach, thinking that they all felt they could just lie to me. Maybe it was what Zo said, they were just trying to keep me from getting sucked into the family feud. But I had a sinking feeling that, at least in Meg and Doug’s case, their motives weren’t that noble.

  I decided to be as withholding as they were being. I wouldn’t lie, but I wouldn’t tell them everything either. I was curious to see just what bits of information they decided to dole out to me. Not to mention that I really wanted to figure out what they were up to.

  I walked to the closest wall and gave it a gentle pat. “Thanks for the room upgrade. How you doing buddy?” I asked.

  The floor board under me grunted.

  “Well, I hope your morning has gone smoother than mine.”

  The floor moaned.

  “That doesn’t sound good. That sounds like I feel, and I had to get stitches. What have they been doing to you, you poor thing?”

  The house didn’t say anything, so I gave the wall another pat, and then went over to give Fuzzy an extra pat so he didn’t get jealous.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I told Fuzzy. Then I grabbed his bottle and went down the back stairs to the kitchen.

  Meg was standing next to the sink, arms crossed. I could hear voices from the dining room, next to the kitchen.

  I smiled at her, crossed to the kettle, and took it to the sink to fill it with water. “Well, I had quite the adventure this morning.” I slid a glance her way. “Seems like you’ve been having adventures of your own…” I saw a shadow of unease cross her face, “you know, with the council person arriving.”

  Any unease Meg felt got smushed under the weight of the frown she sent me. “What the hell happened to you, Finn? I’ve been calling you all morning.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I just saw that. I had my phone on mute and didn’t realize it.”

  “What happened? Are you all right? You said you needed stitches?” She eyeballed the bandage peeping through my hair.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” I turned the stove on and settled in next to it. That put some space between us, with Meg holding position near the sink on the other side of the room. “I went for a walk in the woods this morning—”

  “Did you trip or something?”

  “No. Well, yes, actually, but that’s not why I needed stitches.” I watched her closely as I said, “It was so weird. There was a freak storm.”

  She went very still.

  “And you won’t believe this, but I got hit in the head with a chunk of hail big enough to cut me,” I pointed to my scalp.

  Meg pasted a sympathetic smile on and said, “I’m so sorry Finn. That must’ve been scary. And painful.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, not my most fun morning.”

  “How’d you wind up with Zo?”

  “I was lucky enough to stumble onto her lawn, and she took me to get stitches.”

  “Really? Huh. She’s usually not particularly fond of the Fosters.” Meg picked a piece of lint off her sweater. “I bet she gave you an earful about us.”

  I laughed. “Have you met Zo? She’s not very talkative.”

  Meg gave me a stingy smile. “Where’d she take you to get stitches?”

  “This doctor downtown. Super nice lady. She did a great job. Wanna see?” I took a step forward, and Meg took a step back.

  “No thanks.”

  The water was getting hot, so I started moving around the kitchen, preparing Fuzzy’s bottle.

  Meg asked, “So what doctor?”

  “Dr. Paige? She’s great. She’s right downtown.”

  “Uh huh. And she said you needed some breakfast? Did Zo take you somewhere?”

  I thought Meg might do some fishing for information about my morning, but this was about as subtle as throwing sticks of dynamite into the water to blast the fish out. Too bad for her that I wasn’t about to be bullied into giving out info until she ponied up some of her own.

  I smiled and batted my eyes. “Yeah, downtown. You’ve got all sorts of great food, and your downtown area is so cute. I’m dying to go back there and go shopping. I’m thinking I’ll scoot out for some sightseeing later today.”

  Meg’s lips thinned. “Should you be out running around with your injury?”

  “Hmm. You’re right. And there could be another storm. Do you get a lot of freak storms around here?”

  “Freak storms?” Nor was standing in the doorway. She came in and planted herself by the kitchen island.

  “Hey, Nor. I was just telling Meg about my exciting morning.” I shifted back to my position near the stove and finished making Fuzzy’s bottle, repeating just the bare bones information that I’d given to Meg. Somewhere in the middle of my tale, Wil drifted into the doorway, leaning on the doorframe as he listened to me.

  When I got to the part about the hail, Nor and Wil looked at Meg, who avoided looking at either of them. It was enough to confirm my suspicions that I was the only one here that was out of the loop. Great.

  When I’d finished, Nor strode over to Meg. “I’m done with this little charade you’ve got going on here. To say you’ve been stretching the rules is generous.” She pointed at me. “And now, she got hurt. That’s so far outside the rules, that I’m pretty sure it’s actionable.”

  Wil said, “Nor—”

  “Wil, I’m not worried about being politically correct. It’s clear after my interview with Sarah that I’ve got no chance of being the housekeeper, and even if I did, I wouldn’t stand by for this.” Nor whirled to me. “Are you really alright?”

  “Yeah. Besides the stitches, I’ve got some spectacular bruises, but basically I’m okay.” I wondered if Nor realized yet that she’d said “housekeeper” in front of me, and if it was an accident, or if she’d done it on purpose. But Meg sure had noticed. She’d winced.

  Nor said, “You were lucky. I know it probably doesn’t seem like it, but it could’ve been a lot worse.” She turned back to Meg, who was glowering.

  Meg said, “Fine. You don’t like the way I’ve handled things, that’s your problem. As you said, you’ve got no shot at being—” she flicked a glance at me, and I gritted my teeth as I watched her struggle to come up with a way not to say “housekeeper.” She plowed through with, “—uh, you’ve got no shot at being in charge here. So you don’t get a say. And you’d better not be implying that I had anything to do with this—”

  “With what?” a female voice came from the hallway.

  Meg shot Nor a venomous look, then smoothed her face into a respectful smile, as she turned to the voice. The rest of us also turned to the doorway, and Wil stepped aside to let a woman into the room. She had that well-preserved thing going that meant I couldn’t tell her age. I’d put her somewhere north of 40, but beyond that, I couldn’t be sure.

  She and Meg might have shared the same stylist. Her suit was tailored to perfection, her skirt the exact length to be proper but fashionable. Her shiny hair was swept into a chic French twist, and, of course, she didn’t have a hair out of place. Her jewelry was tasteful but looked old and original in a way that made me think of fancy aucti
on houses and private estate sales. All of it was done with an exacting sense of taste and refinement. The woman dripped money.

  She walked into the kitchen. Her presence filled all the extra space in the kitchen so that the big room suddenly felt crowded. She zeroed in on me, and came forward smiling, hand extended. “Hi, I’m Sarah. You must be Finn,” she said, heels click-clacking as she walked over to me and took my hand.

  She had a firm handshake, and she made eye contact the entire time, not being the least bit subtle about assessing me as we shook. She let go of my hand and turned to Meg and Nor. “Now, Meg has nothing to do with what?” Her voice was pleasant, but it had that kind of iron schoolteacher edge to it that let you know she expected an answer, and she expected it now.

  I could’ve weighed in, but I folded my arms and watched.

  Nor switched into what I imagined must be her lawyer-meeting-a-client mode. She became polite, detached, and businesslike. “Finn here was telling us about the storm she encountered this morning. She was hit by hail so large she required stitches. Is that correct, Finn?” she asked, turning to me.

  “Yup,” I said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Finn,” Sarah said. She looked at Nor. “But I’m not sure what this has to do with Meg?”

  Meg shrugged and looked confused.

  Nor nodded, “Me either. But I’m wondering, since Meg’s in charge and all, how this could have happened under her watch? I mean, given the objective of this weekend, I could see where it might raise some concerns for you and the council. Because either she was fully cognizant of the events, which is one set of problems, or she didn’t notice this was happening on the property, which is, perhaps, a bigger issue.”

  Meg was doubling down on her look of confusion. Wil had pursed his lips and crossed his arms, and was leaning against the wall, observing.

  Sarah looked thoughtful. “Well, I can see where this bears further discussion. And Finn, this must all sound a bit confusing to you,” Sarah said. When she looked at me, I did my best to look wide-eyed and totally lost. “We should have a little chat.”

  I held up the bottle. “I have to feed Fuzzy…uh, he’s the kitten I’m fostering this weekend.”

 

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