I looked through all the bins once more and even pulled them all out of the cubbies. No notebook. Maybe there wasn’t a notebook, but I knew in my gut there was. The notes from the final days of G.T.’s life would surely give me some answers. As I walked through to the front of the shop the doorbell rang. Then again. Was it always this busy on Sundays? I walked out front and created a gap in the blinds on the front door. Ben greeted me with a smile and a wave. I couldn’t help but smile back. It was impossible not to.
“Hi, Ruth. Sorry to intrude,” he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.
“No worries. I’m just doing a little work. Catching up on outstanding jobs in the shop, and looking for a notebook.”
“You sound just like Thom. And you look like him too, with that thing on your head.” He grinned.
I reached up and pulled the visor off my head. Half of my hair pulled out of my ponytail, and the visor got stuck.
“Don’t move. Let me help. I’m a professional,” Ben said, reaching to untangle my hair. “Here you go.”
“I’ve got it. Thanks. Yeesh. I must look like a mess.”
“You look great.” Ben grinned again and shook his head. “So, I thought we could drive to the Reeds’ house together.”
“The Reeds’ house?” I asked.
“You were invited for dinner? It got postponed till tonight. Moira hasn’t heard back from you, so I told her I’d come by and check in on you. She invited me to come along.”
“Dinner.” Yikes. I needed to start setting more alarms on my cell phone to remind me of things. Like that would help. “But it isn’t dinnertime yet, is it?” I looked around and all of the clocks told me a slightly different time. Not a great business advertisement, but I’d deal with that later.
“Ruth, it’s close to dinnertime here in the Berkshires. You folks from Boston probably eat later, but out here, six is a respectable dinnertime. I take it you aren’t ready to go?”
I laughed out loud. “Not nearly, no. I need a shower and to get dressed. I’ve forgotten how long it takes to get to the Reeds’ house from here.”
“About twenty minutes, give or take. You’ve got time. Unless you don’t want to ride with me?”
“No, I mean, yes, that would be great. Thank you.”
“I’ve got a few more calls I need to make to confirm appointments. I’ll be back in a half hour, all right?”
“Fine, I’ll be ready!”
A half hour to get dressed and get ready to take a trip down memory lane. With Ben at the wheel. Thirty minutes was not enough time. When I went upstairs and looked at myself in the mirror, I was horrified to see streaks of dirt and dust all over my face in addition to the red marks left by my grandfather’s vision visor. My hair looked like a red, curly nest. Couple that with the purple bags under my eyes and the slightly swollen lids, and I was hardly looking my best. The shower helped a little, though I almost got a black eye from the showerhead when I was trying to rinse the conditioner out of my hair.
I dressed carefully, wearing my only pair of flats with tights, along with a black-and-white wrap dress and cardigan. I added one of my more subdued pair of earrings, comprised of wheels, gears, and springs, all in silver tones. I’d started to create the earrings to help me perfect my soldering techniques. It worked, and had become a way to unwind. I gave them out as gifts to friends. I did what I could with my hair, resorting, once again, to tying it up in a knot.
I checked Bezel’s food bowl. She rubbed against my leg, covering me with a light dusting of gray fur. I just smiled and shook my head. I’m sure Ben would be wearing some of Blue’s fur too. I wished I had a hostess gift to bring, but bringing any food items was ridiculous, and I didn’t have time to search out flowers. I tucked two pairs of earrings I’d made into my purse for Moira and her mother, but felt a little shy about giving them out.
I left a few lights on both upstairs and downstairs. I locked the door and went out on the porch to wait for Ben to close up his shop. I sat down on one of the porch rockers. While the cold enveloped me, I gently rocked and looked at the Town Hall outlined gently in the darkness. I wondered how often G.T. had sat here, imagining the glory of a new clock tower.
I hadn’t been sitting long when Ben drove up in what looked like a bad 1970s flashback. My car wasn’t much better, but at least my 2004 Scion xB was from this century. Ben’s car looked like it might have started life as a Volkswagen Bug, the old model, and then been pieced together with different parts over the years. The doors didn’t match the body, which didn’t match the hood, which didn’t match the trunk. When I climbed in, I noted the feeling of springs popping through the plaid seat cover, which someone had designed to go over the seats, sort of. I looked in the backseat, but it wasn’t there. Instead there was a dog bed on one side and a milk crate on the other. Both were bungeed in place. I happened to glance down at my feet and thought I saw the spill from the streetlight between the floorboards. I kept my bag in my lap and tried not to rest my feet on the ground.
“It is perfectly safe,” Ben said, a wicked grin flashing as he walked around the car and opened the creaky door for me. “Perfectly safe. You’ll note the seat belts are new.”
Indeed they were. Lap belts only, but they were new. I didn’t even bother asking about air bags. But the interior seemed in pretty good shape. And besides, how fast could this thing go?
“What year is this?” I asked, buckling up.
“Nineteen seventy-seven. You weren’t even born then, were you?” he said as we pulled out onto the road.
“Nope. Not for another eight years.”
“Well neither was I, but I got this car when I was in college. Been keeping her in shape ever since. If the business picks up, I may even get her painted.”
“Her?”
“Betty. Named after my grandmother. Don’t laugh—it’s the truth. She gave me the money to buy her.”
“Winter must be tough for Betty,” I said, patting the dashboard gently.
“I don’t drive her much in the winter. Don’t really need to. I can get my groceries right in town, the library is right down the street, the shop has Internet, and Aggie Kurt makes deliveries all year. Plus, I cut my own hair.”
“No urge to take a trip into Boston or down to New York? Or even over to Marytown?” I asked.
“Nope. And if the need arises, I’ll hitch a ride with someone else. Or take Betty out. She actually handles pretty well in the snow. It’s the cold that she can’t take.”
“Betty and I have that in common.” I smiled, suddenly wishing I had remembered to swipe on some of that lip gloss.
Ben laughed. “Orchard has everything I need. At least for now, while I try and get the business off the ground.”
“Any buyer’s remorse?”
“Well, I inherited it, indirectly. Since Aunt Flo, there have been three attempts to make the shop work. The other two failed. I’m trying something new and hoping it catches on.”
“What’s your new way look like?”
“Unisex,” he said brightly.
“As in?”
“As in I can, and do, cut men’s and women’s hair. Both are welcome.”
“How’s that working?”
“Not well, honestly. Aunt Flo says I need to have men-only and women-only hours so that the gossip mill can start churning again. I also lowered my prices. I’d been thinking about being an upscale salon, but I think I need to be a bit more mainstream.”
“A hair emporium,” I said.
“Exactly. See, I’m learning. I can still do high-end treatments, but I also do rollers and rinses if I need to. Whatever makes the customer happy.”
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“The town folk are all still checking me out, so business is pretty slow. Your grandfather made a point out of coming over every week for a trim and a shave. And Carolin
e’s a regular customer. Trust me, that helped. I have a few regulars, just not enough.” He downshifted and slowed down to weave through the curves. “I’ve been thinking about your grandfather a lot.” Ben looked over at me. “Is it okay to talk about him?”
“It is,” I said. “I’m thinking about him a lot too.”
“Thom Clagan was one of the most important people in Orchard, I think. Kept the town steady, if that makes sense.”
“I guess it does. I don’t remember him playing that role when I was younger.”
“I didn’t know him then, of course. But now he even said he was going to run for the Board of Selectmen.”
“What? No, I don’t believe you,” I said, straining against my lap belt to look over at him.
“Thom and I had lunch once a week. We talked about a lot of things. And this was his latest plan for fighting for old Orchard.”
“How big was this fight? I keep thinking about what happened to G.T., and I can’t help but think this whole business fight had something to do with his death. I have to figure this out. It’s the only way he’s going to be at rest and the only way I am going to get some rest.” I looked out my window at the dense trees. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”
“Thom was my friend. Anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Thanks,” I said. I wanted to trust Ben, but needed to have ideas better formed before I talked to him. “Tell me more about Ben’s Barbershop. Is that the name?”
“That’s the name I am thinking about using. What do you think?”
“It is confusing, if it is unisex. But I sort of like it.” I smiled over at him, feeling my face flush. “So who else goes to your shop?”
“Jeff Paisley comes over once a week so that his fade is always perfect. And the Reeds come over a lot. Hopefully I’ll get some more customers soon. I may start having a bingo night, see if that drums up business.”
I laughed. “Bingo night?”
“Yeah. There were a few folks who tried to get Orchard to go upscale, my uncle included. They all lost their shirts. It was partly because the recession hit at the same time. But it was mostly because Orchard isn’t going upscale. Ever. It’s a town of hardworking folks, college students, and weekenders who pass through on their way to destinations that aren’t Orchard.”
“Same as when I was growing up. I would have thought they would have figured out something else by now.”
“We are getting a little more artsy, which is cool. And there is talk of a microbrewery opening up in town. But for the most part, Orchard is as it always has been. And that’s great.”
“Wow, you really love it here.”
“Coming to Orchard saved me,” he said, suddenly very serious.
I wanted to ask how, but I could tell Ben wasn’t going to tell me by the way his jaw was clenched and his grip on his steering wheel. He was fighting something.
“How well do you know the Reeds?” I asked, carefully changing the subject.
“I eat most of my meals at the Sleeping Latte, so I know Moira and Nancy pretty well. Why do you ask?”
“Pat mentioned I shouldn’t ask Moira about her brother, Ryan. I hadn’t thought about it, but if there is something I should know . . . Just wanted a heads-up before I showed up for dinner.”
“Ryan’s the reason last night got canceled, but I’m hazy on the details. The Reeds are a private family. I’m just there to lend a shoulder when Moira needs it. Ryan lost his football scholarship last spring after he busted his knee. The whole family has been hustling, trying to figure out how to keep him in school. The only person who isn’t hustling is Ryan, or so it seems. I think Moira is getting a little fed up.”
I wasn’t surprised. Ryan was always a great guy, lots of fun to be around, and the anointed male child in the Reed family. But I remembered when Pat asked my grandfather to give him an after-school job to keep him out of trouble, and my grandfather had to fire him after a couple of weeks of missed shifts and shoddy work. Pat had stopped working with my grandfather for a while after that, but by then I was really interested in learning the trade and I stepped in more to help. By Christmas Pat was back in the shop. I’m pretty sure my grandmother had everything to do with the detente. Thankfully, after a couple of months, everything was back to normal between G.T. and Pat.
Moira and I never talked about it or about Ryan. I didn’t talk about my parents either. That wasn’t what our friendship was about. It was just about us and being the best friends we could be. Again, I was struck by what I’d left behind in Orchard and how easily I’d let it go.
“Ruth, you still here?” Ben asked.
“I am. Just thinking about how complicated families can be. And how hard regret is.”
“This is none of my business, but you should know how proud your grandfather was of you. When he got your postcard last week, he about popped a button.”
“He told you about the postcard?”
“It made his week. And that’s a quote,” Ben said.
I stared hard out the window. “I’ll never forgive myself for staying away so long.”
“Ruth, I don’t know you well. I don’t know you at all. But I knew Thom. That’s not the way he’d want to be remembered by you. You know what he would want? For you to figure out what happened, take care of Caroline and the shop, and have a great life. In that order.”
I hated that the tears were threatening to flow again. Ben reached behind me and took out a tissue box, handing it to me. “Here’s a tissue. I’m just rambling. I hate it when people cry. Just know that if you need help, I’m right next door. Okay?”
By now Ben had pulled up to the curb in front of the Reeds’ house and stopped the car. He reached over and took my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Let’s go let Nancy feed our feelings,” he said.
chapter 26
“Ruth, you come right in here this minute,” Nancy Reed said when she opened the door. She gave me a big hug and then turned toward Ben, slapping him on the shoulder.
“What were you thinking, driving her over in that death trap? We could hear you coming a mile away.”
“Nance, I keep telling you, it’s one of the great rides. I’d be happy to take you out for a spin anytime.”
“Oh, you!” Nancy said, giving him another swat, this time more gently.
“Stop flirting with my mother, Ben,” Moira said, coming out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel, which she tossed at Ben. He caught it and smiled.
“Hi, Ruthie. Sorry about last night. Hope you got the message. I lost your cell phone number and Chief Paisley wasn’t giving it up.” Moira gave me a quick hug and then guided me into the living room.
“No worries,” I said, sitting on the couch. “I went by the Corner Market and got some food.”
“The store looks good, doesn’t it?” Pat said, coming into the room. I stood up and gave him a hug.
“It does,” I agreed. “And I met Ada Clark.”
“Ada’s a nice young woman,” Pat said. He didn’t sound overly convinced.
“She seems nice enough. Though she was a little weird with me.”
“Weird, how?” Nancy asked, glancing over at her husband.
“I don’t know. I’m likely being paranoid. She kept saying how sorry she was about G.T.’s passing, but I got the sense that she wasn’t really that sorry. It’s probably just me.”
“No, probably not just you,” Nancy said. “Stop looking at me like that, Pat, you know it’s true. They blamed Thom for putting a hold on their building permit, even though he didn’t have a thing to do with it. And then Thom had some words with them after that slick developer met with them, and they were none too pleased with that, let me tell you.”
“How do you know, Mum?” Moira asked.
“Moira, I do work for them. While I’m making my deliver
ies, I can’t help if I overhear conversations, can I?”
“I wish you wouldn’t do business with the Clarks, Nancy,” Pat said.
“Their money is just as green as everyone else’s, and it helps us all make ends meet. What’s wrong with that, may I ask?”
“Nothing. Nothing. Listen, we’ll talk about this later. How you holding up, Ruthie?” Pat asked.
“I’m holding up. How about you?”
Pat didn’t answer right away. Instead his lips moved in and out and he cleared his throat.
“Enough of that now,” Nancy said. “Ruth, I don’t want to rush anyone, but dinner’s ready. And honestly, I didn’t make any appetizers. Would it be rude to suggest that we eat?”
“No, of course not,” I said.
“Good. Let’s go in then, shall we?”
We walked through the double arch into the dining room. I always loved the Reeds’ house. Their post–World War II colonial was just so normal. And it was always so full of love. These were two concepts that my childhood lacked for a bit. I noticed that there were only five place settings on the table, so no Ryan tonight.
I moved toward the single seat on one side of the table, but Moira moved me. “No, sit here, next to Ben,” she said. I complied, plopping down between Ben and Pat as Nancy ladled out pumpkin soup. Between the smell and my first sip, I was transported back to when I was about twelve and Nancy taught me how to make this very soup. I’d wanted to make it for my grandmother, since it was always her favorite. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
“Is it all right?” Nancy asked, sounding anxious.
“It’s perfect, thank you. I was just remembering when you taught me to make it, so I could surprise Grandma.”
“Well, don’t fill up,” Moira said. “Mum’s been cooking all day. Turkey, corn bread stuffing, maple brussels sprouts, Boston cream pie.”
“Thank you for going to all this trouble, Nancy.”
“Please, no trouble. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.”
“I wish it was too.” I picked up my spoon, but couldn’t bear to take another sip. I looked around the table. Everyone appeared transfixed by their own bowls, but no one was eating.
Just Killing Time Page 13