by Nancy Bush
Still, Layla was easier to take than Lucy, who always acted superior, like she always knew best.
Kate walked down the hall to the employee break room, rummaged in the cabinets, and found a glass pitcher. She filled it with filtered water, put it on a tray with six glasses, and walked it back to the meeting room, throwing a dark glance in the direction of Miranda’s office as she passed by. If you wanted anything done, you had to do it yourself.
Minutes later, she heard quick footsteps heading her way down the hall. Lucy, she thought. Kate stood behind her chair and pasted a smile on her face, waiting for her sister-in-law. She was surprised when Layla strode in, pale and grim, the peacock-blue scarf draped around the back of her neck beginning to flutter as if it were about to take flight.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
Layla stopped short to stare at her. “Seriously? Stonehenge? You’re still trying to sell it, right?”
“I’m not trying to sell it. I told you that. I was just asking why you look so . . .”
“Where are you putting Lucy?”
Normally, Layla was quiet, keeping most of her thoughts to herself, mostly disinterested in family business, Kate always thought. Today was different in a way Kate couldn’t put her finger on. “Lucy will probably sit by her father or John, maybe.” She swept a hand to indicate the seats on Abbot’s left side.
Layla thought about it a moment, then walked over to the seat next to Abbott’s.
“Oh, no. That’s not what I meant. I—”
“I know what you meant,” Layla interrupted, planting herself down in the chair anyway. She gave Kate a look.
Well, honestly. Kate wanted to defend herself, but she hardly knew where to start. That was the trouble with Lyle’s sisters. They were so incredibly unfair. They wanted to blame her for everything.
More footsteps in the hallway heralded the arrival of Lucy and John, then Abbott and Lyle. Kate had asked Lyle to come with her, but he’d demurred. She hadn’t known why, but now it seemed he’d wanted to see his father before the meeting took place. It pricked her anger a little. It felt like her husband was moving away from her.
Spying Layla, Lucy quickened her steps and took the seat next to her. Lyle sat in the seat Kate had readied for him, leaving John the seat next to Lucy, the farthest away from Abbott. Except that he looked around and focused on the one next to Kate, rounding the table to come to her side. Abbott and Kate were the last to seat themselves, and everyone looked expectantly to the Crissman patriarch, though Kate was acutely aware of Lucy’s husband so close to her. She slid a glance across the table at Lucy, who had turned toward the head of the table, her shoulder tucked forward like a wall. Kate could swear she was deliberately snubbing her husband, but then, John didn’t appear to want to sit by her either. Trouble in paradise? The idea warmed the cockles of her heart a bit.
“Pass me the water,” Abbott said, pointing to the tray in the middle of the table with the pitcher and glasses.
Kate swept up the pitcher and poured a glass before anyone else could, although seriously, none of them seemed to be eager to perform the small task.
“I’d like one, too,” John said in her left ear.
Get it yourself. But she was holding the pitcher in her hand, so she grudgingly poured him a glass as well.
Lucy wore a dark green dress and earrings with stones of the same shade. She was a little pale as well, Kate thought, sliding a glance from her to Layla and back again. Lucy’s attention was directed totally toward her father. She hadn’t turned once to look at her husband.
Kate peered sideways at John. He was dressed in a white shirt, jacket, and no tie. If he sensed her looking at him, he didn’t show it. He, too, was facing forward, waiting for Abbott to speak. It felt like there was a force field between Lucy and John. What had happened?
Abbott said, “I’m not going to spend a lot of time holding your hands. Crissman & Wolfe’s been busy losing money. It costs too much to keep the lights on in that building and the rent keeps skyrocketing. I told our landlord we wouldn’t renew the lease. We’re in till August; then we’re out.”
Kate switched her attention to Lyle. He appeared to be looking at his father, but she could see the distance in his eyes and knew what it meant. He was somewhere else. Maybe worrying ahead of the conversation? She wouldn’t be able to stand it if his attention was somewhere else. She put in quickly, “But online sales are doing very well. And we have a distribution center that’s hiring right now.”
Lyle roused himself to say, “That’s true. We’ve leased more warehouse space. A lot cheaper than office rent.”
“Where is the business office going to be?” Lucy asked.
“At the warehouse.” That was from John. “On the east side, out near Gresham.”
“That’s a helluva drive from Laurelton,” Lucy pointed out.
Abbott ignored her and, as if everything was said and done and she had no input in those kinds of important decisions, said, “We’ll be starting to move there soon. Miranda and John should be in place by the end of March.”
Lucy turned her eyes on her husband, silently accusing him of holding out on her.
Abbot brought her attention back to him. “Lucy, you’ll be staying at the store for now. You’ll be taking over Miranda’s duties until we shut down completely. Lyle and I will handle the accounting.”
“What?” Lucy asked in surprise.
“You’re good at managing,” Abbott told her.
Kate drew a sharp breath. That was a lie. Lucy might have a head for figures, but she was terrible in dealing with people. Just terrible!
“So, you and Lyle will be at the warehouse?” Lucy asked carefully.
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Abbott challenged. “We’ll be setting up all our offices there. It’s going to take a while, so we’ve already started. We should be pretty well set up by the charity auction for the Friends of the Columbia River Gorge. That’s taking up a lot of time right now.”
Layla asked, “Who’s in charge of setting it up?”
“I am,” said Lyle.
Well, I am, Kate thought, but she didn’t say it.
“What’s the theme again?” Layla questioned.
Kate was sure she was trying to be a pain in the ass. Lucy had subsided into silence after learning she’d been promoted. That was the thing. She was looking at her change of status as a demotion, when she should have been thanking Abbott, gushing to him. Not that she’d be any good in the job. Maybe Abbott knew that and was just trying to find a way to edge her out. “Denim and Diamonds,” Kate said.
Beside her, John asked, “Your idea?”
“Well, I came up with it, but we’re all on board.” She looked from Abbott to Lyle and back again. Neither of them said anything, which kind of pissed her off.
“Ah,” said John, which definitely pissed her off.
And what about John? Lyle was taking over his duties one by one. Sure, there was a learning curve, and Lyle hadn’t really been as on the ball as he could. She’d had to push him along pretty hard, but he was getting there. So, did that leave John out in the cold? She was really starting to hope so.
Layla asked, “So, Lyle’s moved up quite a few rungs?” The hairs on the back of Kate’s neck rose. Since when did she get to talk about the company? She wasn’t any part of it!
Abbott’s eyes glared at his eldest daughter beneath fierce, bushy brows, and Layla added insult to injury by asking, “What about Stonehenge?”
Kate held her breath. Had Layla taken a self-destruction pill? She was purposely questioning her father, and that never worked.
“We’re not talking about Stonehenge,” Abbott ground out. He flicked a look at Kate, and she felt her face heat. He knew she’d spilled the beans too soon. His own face took on a ruddy hue as well, and he added angrily, “Whatever I decide about it, I’ll let you know.”
“It should be on the historical registry,” Layla said.
“Business-wise, that wo
uld be a very bad idea,” her father said through a thin smile. “I think I’m lucky you’re an artist.”
Ouch, Kate thought with a certain amount of pleasure.
“Is Jerome Wolfe buying Stonehenge?” asked Lucy.
“You have any questions about the business?” Abbott demanded.
“It’s just that we all feel connected to Stonehenge. If you’re really selling it, it would be nice to know.” Lucy either didn’t see Abbott’s growing frustration or didn’t care.
“I have a question about the business,” John said. “When are you making the announcement about shuttering the downtown store?”
Kate said, “After Denim and Diamonds.” She glanced at Abbott for corroboration, but he was looking at the table, lips pressed tightly together, still fuming, she guessed.
“So, we’re not telling the press about this until after the auction?” Lucy’s tone suggested she didn’t approve.
“No.” That was Lyle.
“We prefer to keep everything business as usual until afterward,” Kate helped him out.
Some of the wealthiest families and businessmen from the Greater Portland area would be in attendance, ready to hand over huge checks to restore so much of the area that had been devastated by the Eagle Creek fire, which had nearly destroyed the Multnomah Falls Lodge, decimated local businesses, and closed the historic Columbia Highway for months. It was also a chance to rub elbows with some of the Portland elite. Kate knew Abbott would want to keep up appearances, and she wanted Lyle to put his best foot forward as well. He’d been so morose lately. The shuttering of the store was getting to him even more than she’d expected it would.
Abbott said, “I would like my two daughters to represent the Crissman family that night. Entertain. Be happy. No political talk. No spilling secrets about the company. Just gracious hostesses.”
Layla and Lucy exchanged a look. Kate was nearly bursting to remind Abbott that he’d asked her to play the crowd along as well, but Abbott went on, “Lyle and I will be greeting everyone as well. They don’t have to know it’s a final hurrah. It will be evident soon enough.”
“Is Jerome Wolfe invited?” Lucy asked.
Abbott glowered and shook his head slightly, but Lyle answered, “Yes.”
Kate could have beaned him. Couldn’t he feel the nuances? Where the hell was he?
“He’ll raze Stonehenge to the ground,” Layla predicted. “Its value is in its age. It has history.”
She was trying to hold Abbott’s gaze, but he looked past her, focusing on John Linfield, and said, “My decisions are for the good of the business and the good of the family. That’s all.”
He abruptly stood, surprising everyone, including Kate, who’d expected the meeting to last longer than twenty minutes. But Abbott was nothing if not mercurial.
She scrambled to be one of the first by his side as he exited the meeting room.
Lyle, still seated, his expression slightly wild, gave her a look as she hurried past him. Kate wondered if he wanted an apology for pushing closer to Abbott than he was, but the words died on her tongue as he suddenly rose from his seat to join her, tucking his phone into his pocket. He’d been looking at it, she realized. Who had he been talking to? Immediately, she thought of those two long-legged women she’d caught him talking to the last time they’d been at Crissman & Wolfe together. Kate had wanted to scratch their eyes out. She’d hated the way Lyle joked and teased with them. Hated the way they simpered in the beam of his smile.
But he didn’t look so happy now, so maybe she was overreacting. Whoever he’d been speaking with hadn’t given him any pleasure.
“Bad news?” she asked him as they both hurried to catch up with Abbott, who was stalking away as fast as he could without breaking into a run.
“Huh? Oh. No.”
“Did you get a text?”
“No,” Lyle said shortly, and he, too, put on the afterburners as he hastened to catch up with his father. Kate had to speed up as well, especially when the elevator car opened and Abbott stepped inside, looking for all the world like he was going to engage the car before either Lyle or she got there.
Kate was almost breathless when she practically jumped inside behind Lyle and Abbott slammed his palm against the button for the ground floor.
Both Lyle and Kate turned to Abbott for an explanation for his hasty exodus.
He flushed and growled, “I won’t be questioned about my company.”
My company. Kate felt a spurt of anger, which she quickly quelled. She was sick of Abbott making a point about company ownership, but he only spoke the truth. If Lyle was ever going to get what was rightfully his, he was going to have to fight for it, and he needed her help.
Lyle looked away, focusing on the middle distance somewhere beyond the elevator car.
What was he thinking about?
“Was that text bad news?” she asked him outright.
He flicked a glance her way. She thought for a moment he would argue with her, having already said he hadn’t gotten a text. But they both knew he’d lied about that. “No, it was just from Pat,” he muttered.
“Is Pat a man or a woman?” she quipped back, thinking of that old Saturday Night Live shtick about a person whose gender couldn’t be identified by either the way they dressed, looked, or were named. The whole gag was that no one knew whether Pat was a man or a woman. In other times, Lyle might have given her that sideways smile she’d loved so much and answered her question with, “Yes.”
This time he answered, “A man.”
Kate smiled fractionally. She didn’t know if she believed him.
But she knew the code to unlock his phone and she could check it anytime she liked. Maybe tonight, when he was sleeping.
They left the elevator and followed Abbott as he strode outside toward the parking structure on the block opposite the store. Then, in unison, as if reading each other’s mind, they stopped. There was no reason to keep following him, and it was clear he was in no mood for a rehash of the meeting. She and Lyle hesitated on the sidewalk. An awkward moment passed as they watched Abbott disappear into the parking structure. The traffic light changed. Cars and trucks moved along the street.
Finally, he asked, “You going back to the school?”
“This is my Friday off. I’ve just got to pick up Daphne later.”
“Oh. Right.” Lyle moved off toward the west end of the building.
“Where are you going?”
“My car.”
She saw the lights flash on his black Mercedes, parked at a meter. Lyle climbed in the driver’s side, started the engine, tossed her a brief wave, then drove off. She wondered if he was meeting this “Pat” and doubled down on her intention to break into his phone.
* * *
Lucy picked up Evie from school. Her daughter chattered away about someone in her class who’d puked up a “whole lot of Gummy Bears” on the playground. Evie said, “She shouldn’t have had them. It’s against the rules at school. And it was really, really gross when she went ‘bleeaaahhh’ and it came out into the dirt!”
“Gross,” Lucy concurred, though she’d barely heard a word. She’d left work early again, but no one cared today. Her father and brother weren’t around, and she wasn’t sure Miranda knew of the coming change to her job. Lucy sure didn’t want to be the one to tell her. Or maybe she did know, and that’s why she’d been so supportive earlier. That didn’t seem like Miranda, but who knew? All day long she’d been thinking about how her father had basically ripped her job out from under her. Her father and her brother.
If she complained, would she be heard?
And what happens when the store closes? Do you even have a job?
In the meeting, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from glancing over at John, whose brows had been knit into a frown. Maybe he cares that I’m being treated so badly, she’d thought at the time. Hoped, actually. They hadn’t made eye contact, but it had seemed like he was on her side. Forced her to rethink her o
wn actions over the last few days. Maybe there was a chance for them after all. They were married. Husband and wife. Things weren’t perfect, but what marriage was?
“I’m going to stop at the store,” she told Evie.
“Can I come in, too?”
“Sure.”
They walked down the aisles together, and Lucy bought flank steak, the makings for scalloped potatoes with Gruyère cheese and nutmeg, a Martha Stewart recipe John just loved, and an Asian chopped salad in a bag. Okay, the salad was kind of a cheat, but it was really good, and she was going to have her hands full trying to get it all done in time. She assumed her husband had gone back to the office after the meeting. They hadn’t spoken on the way out.
At the house, Lucy dropped the groceries on the counter and texted John, asking when he’d be home. Then she set about peeling the potatoes and slicing them super thin with her mandolin. John hadn’t gotten back to her by the time they were ready for the oven, so she texted him again: Making dinner. Just want to know when you’ll be home. Damn AutoCorrect tried to make something else of it, and she had to fight a bit to get the text the way she wanted it.
She heard the ding of the oven telling her it was preheated at almost the same moment her cell’s swoosh sound said she had a text.
She checked the phone’s screen: Not coming home for a while.
Annoyed, she responded: Can I have a closer ETA?
When he didn’t immediately respond, she put the potatoes in the oven and thought, Screw it. Then, she immediately told herself to stop being such a bitch. How was he supposed to know she’d chosen this day to offer an olive branch? She would just cook the potatoes and see what happened by the time they were done.
Her cell rang. Well, good. He finally chose to call. But when she glanced at the screen, she saw it was Layla.
“A call instead of a text. Has the end of the world arrived and no one told me?”
“Hey, Luce. I was just thinking about stuff. Kinda thought I’d call.”
“Ah. Yeah. There’s no talking to Dad and Lyle. Their minds are made up. If we’re going to have to find another way to hang on to Stonehenge, we’re going to have to come up with a plan that leaves them out of it.”