Beth’s smile disappeared. “Of course not. That would be cruel.”
“I’ve moved most of her stuff, but some of the furniture’s too heavy for me. Come see what I’ve done so far. I just hope the two of us can manage the rest.”
Beth flexed her gym-toned biceps. “Lead on.”
“I spent a lot of the day on the phone trying to find a caregiver.” Sarah led the way down the front hall to what had been her father’s office.
“Whoa, baby.” Beth looked around at the dresser drawers stacked on one side of the room next to a fainting couch, bedside tables holding lamps, and half a dozen boxes. “Your mom’s going to have a cow when she sees this. What did you do with those brocade chairs that used to be by the hall door? Where are all the little rugs? And that awful elephant-foot umbrella stand?”
“Attic. I don’t want anything where she’ll trip over it.”
“She’s still gonna go postal. But at least you’ve stored stuff. You might survive if you can prove you didn’t get rid of anything.”
“I know. Victorian frilly out, bare and spare in. Not exactly her style, but as long as she uses a walker it needs to be like this. It’s a matter of safety.” Sarah shuddered at the mental picture of her frail mother tripping, falling, fragile old bones shattering.
“What about the floors? She won’t like plain, bare wood. What if she falls?”
Sarah closed her eyes. “Thank you for reinforcing that mental image. I thought about carpeting, but it would take too long, and it’s too expensive. Not to mention it would damage the floors and she loves that original oak like it was another child.”
“She’d have another fit.”
“Of course she would.”
No pity parties. You’re just tired. Sarah blinked back a rush of tears. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“Of course you are. You always do.”
But it’s never enough these days. “Let’s get busy. We’ve got stuff to move.
“Like your father’s desk.” Beth glared at the acre of mahogany crouching in the middle of the room. I’ll bet that sucker weighs a ton.”
Twenty minutes later, Sarah collapsed against the wall. “We’re never moving that thing. Let’s get the rest down here while I figure out what to do.”
Beth sagged against the desk.
“I should go to the gym more often.”
“True.”
After Sarah recovered, she and Beth trudged upstairs and carried down the dresser and most of the bedframe.
“Funny,” Beth panted as they maneuvered the mattress down the wide oak staircase. “I always dreamed of descending these stairs in a ball gown. Being the Mayflower Man was never on the agenda.”
“At least we’re done. Or, more accurately, that’s all we can do,” Sarah puffed as they leaned it against the wall.
“What are you gonna do about the desk and headboard?”
By tomorrow noon. Sarah swallowed a scream of frustration. “Go down to the home supply store and hire a couple of those guys who are always standing out there looking for work, I guess.”
“Oh, no. How can you be sure you’ll get someone you can trust?”
“Either get out your magic wand and move the stuff or stop arguing.”
“Right.”
“Come see the safety bars in the bathroom. I begged and pleaded and got a super rush job.” Sarah opened the door to the adjoining bathroom.
Thank goodness her father had had it put in all those years ago. “Not going to traipse down the hall when your mother’s got the house full of women playing bridge or one of her committees,” he had grumped, but she could tell he was secretly proud of her mother’s social success.
Sarah put a hand on the nearest bar and tugged to show how strong it was.
It came off in her hand.
She stared at it, unable to believe what had just happened.
“Oh, honey.” Beth took the bar and set it on the floor. “You had old Mr. Flint do it, right?”
“Of course I did. Mama always has him do the repairs I can’t manage. Besides, he was the only one who would do it today.”
“We can fix this,” Beth said.
“Us? I don’t think so. What if we do it wrong, too? A fall could put her right back in that awful place.” Sarah gestured at the gaping holes in the wall, ignoring the tears leaving wet streaks down her face.
“Aw, Sarah.” Beth put an arm around her. “I didn’t mean us personally. Come on. I know someone who can fix this. Let’s go call him.”
Sarah sagged under the weight of one more problem.
Another stranger, another wrangling argument to get something they needed? I can’t face it. I’m so tired. She pulled away.
“Come on,” Beth repeated, tugging at her arm. “This will work. I promise.”
Sarah let herself be led to the kitchen. “You’re right. I guess.” The words came through a deadening fog of exhaustion. “Someone has to fix this.”
Beth picked up the phone and dialed. “Rob? It’s Beth. We need your help. Here’s Sarah.” She handed the phone to Sarah. “Rob Henderson is the greatest handyman in the world.”
Sarah took the phone. “Hello?”
The voice that answered shivered through her, a dark and delicious bass.
She explained the situation.
“Tonight? Sorry. No can do.” Rob’s voice had a deep, rumbly quality that Sarah would have enjoyed if she’d been twenty years younger and a few light years less desperate, and if he hadn’t been telling her no.
“Tomorrow?”
“Sorry. How about a week from Tuesday?”
Defeat crushed down on her and she went numb to everything except what it would be like to tell her mother she’d have to stay in the nursing home.
“Are you still there?”
“You actually sound concerned.” Unlike the hospital and rehab people. Sarah heard the bitterness in her voice. I have to stop this. I won’t get anywhere by alienating him.
“I am. Is this some kind of emergency?”
“I can’t bring my mother home from Bellonna Gardens until the house is ready.” She thought she was calm and collected, but her voice broke and the words rushed out. “And they’re trying to push her out and the house isn’t safe for her and—” She choked, overwhelmed by the situation. Tears trickled down her face, surprising her. She never cried. She tried to swallow the sobs and hiccupped.
“Hey, hey. Are you crying?” The horror in his voice flipped her snuffles to hysterical laughter.
“No,” she lied.
“Good. Now, what exactly do you need before your mother can come home?”
“Just what I told you a minute ago.” Impatience crept into her voice in spite of her best efforts. Her famous ability to deal with difficult people seemed to be gone with the wind these days. “Weren’t you taking notes?”
“I know what you said.”
Now he sounded annoyed. Couldn’t she do anything right today?
“What I meant,” he said with exaggerated patience, “was, which things do you have to have before tomorrow?”
“All of them?” Sarah could feel exasperation in the silence that followed her question. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Think outside the box, babe. This doesn’t have to be done all at once, even though your mother’s in her mid-eighties.”
“And you know that how?”
“She’s a friend of my mom’s.”
Sarah knew she was going to sound like that girl in the Indiana Jones movie, but the words popped out anyway. “Who are you?”
“Rob Henderson. Your mother and my mother, Violet, go to church together, and garden club, and all those other club things.”
“Violet? Of course I know her. She’s very sweet.”
“Thank you. She is. She’s also a ditz.
Pay attention. She’s getting senile, the poor dear. “I thought your name sounded familiar.”
“It should. We went to school together.”
“Glad I’m so memorable. I was a year behind you. Now, to get back to your problem. I’m on a job now and booked solid tomorrow, and I don’t have time for this conversation. But if you want to stop arguing with me, I’ll come over late tonight and do the most important stuff. It’s not going to kill your mother to take sponge baths for a couple of days, is it?”
Sarah grimaced. The overly patient note in his voice made her feel like a kindergartener. “No, of course it isn’t. You’ll really come over tonight?”
“Yup. Late. About ten or so. Sorry I can’t make it sooner. I’ll finish up over the weekend.”
“I accept, of course. But why—” She broke off. Asking him why he was being so accommodating was tactless.
“I told you. She’s a friend of Mum’s. I hadn’t heard she was in Bellonna. I’ve seen that place. Nice as it is, I wouldn’t board a pet hamster there. So, tonight.”
“Thank you.” Sarah put down the phone, stunned by having something go right.
****
“Great,” Beth said. “You’ll have plenty of time to visit your mother before he gets here. And for that glass of wine you promised me.”
“Right. At least we don’t have to move anything from my apartment since I’m only going to stay here for a few weeks. We’re done.”
The panic that never completely left her these days threatened to close her throat, made her turn away, pretending to look around the room. What if she had to stay longer? Mama’s old. And sick. I might have to stay here forever. She shivered. Her mother was eighty-two years old. Forever wasn’t going to be all that long, and that was an even worse thought.
“Sarah?” Beth said.
“Wine’s in the kitchen.” But Sarah stopped in the doorway and looked around the room, imagining the desk out of the way, the bed set up and covered with the satin bedspread. Her mother was not going to be pleased with the revised house. So bare compared to its former glory.
Beth had turned back to see what kept Sarah. “It looks nice,” she said.
“Just wonderful.” Sarah winced at the sarcasm in her voice.
Beth fluffed up like an insulted kitten. “Don’t sound so grateful for all my hard work.”
“Sorry. You know I appreciate the help. It’s just there’s so much left to do.” She gulped. “It’s really that I’m so worried. And I so don’t want to move back here.” Even though I love my mother and even though it’s temporary.
“I know. Even though she’s your best friend, however weird that is.”
Sarah blinked. She’d almost swear that was a note of jealousy in Beth’s voice. Before she could decide whether to say anything, Beth went on.
“Remember, it’s only temporary. Your mom will get better and everything will be back to normal.”
If only. Time to take a rest before she had to face Bellonna again. More than time to pack away the whining.
****
By the time Sarah got home, she was even more exhausted. Her mother had been, predictably, overexcited by the thought of going home the next day, and Sarah had spent what felt like hours trying to get her settled for the night.
“Here.” Beth handed Sarah a glass of wine the minute she came in the door. “You need this.”
“What about your handyman?”
“Rob? What, I used the wrong glass and you think he’s going to report us to the wine police?”
“Of course not. It just doesn’t seem very responsible to be drinking when he arrives.”
“Oh, lighten up, Sarah. Think of this as necessary medicine if you have to. You’ve had a hell of a day.”
“True.” Sarah took a deep breath. “And tomorrow could be worse,” she blurted. “I’m scared the caregiver won’t show up tomorrow, and that I can’t get anyone to move that desk in time, and what if Macklin fires me for taking so much time off, and it’s only going to get worse, and I miss Fred and Casey and my own things.”
Her mind took a quick detour to her cozy apartment. Current book on the antique trunk that served as a coffee table, Fred curled into a purring, plushy cushion on the ruby velvet sofa, Casey sprawled on the needlepoint hearth rug, chasing rabbits in her sleep. They were so tired of being imprisoned in the local Pet Palace. And oh, Lord, how can I be so selfish when Mama almost died and really needs me?
“And I’ll be scared to fall asleep because what if she needs something and I don’t wake up and she falls or hits her head or—”
“Stop. Breathe,” Beth ordered. “That’s better. One more time: your stay is only temporary. You can put a sleeping bag on the couch. It’s comfortable and you’ll be close enough to hear her. All right?”
Maybe. “I’ll feel better when the bed and dresser are in place and your precious Rob has put the grab bar by the toilet.”
“It’s almost ten thirty. He should be here any time.” Beth frowned. “He’s really very reliable.”
****
The scent of coffee woke Sarah. She sat up and looked around. Not her bedroom. And ouch, stiff neck. Why had she slept in a chair in the living room? A soft snore drew her attention to the sofa. Beth?
The grandfather clock in the hall bonged...one, two...three...four...five... Five? Time to get ready for work. Oh, no, she had the day off. She had to find a couple of men to move furniture, and about a hundred other things. And Beth had to get to work.
“Wake up, Beth.”
Twenty minutes later, she poured coffee for a hastily-showered Beth. “I guess I fell asleep before your friend got here. I better go see how he did.” She hurried down the hall and into the bathroom.
And saw the gaping hole in the wall. He hadn’t fixed anything. “Oh, no.” She clung to the doorframe, trying to assimilate this new blow.
“Sarah?” Beth came down the hall. “What’s wrong?”
If she tried to speak, Sarah knew she’d start screaming. She stared at Beth, mute with defeat.
“Why didn’t he fix it?” Beth asked.
Oh, Lord, no. Guilt slammed through Sarah. “I fell asleep. Didn’t you let him in?”
Beth shook her head, her eyes rounding in shock. “No. I fell asleep, too.”
Before Sarah could think of anything to say, someone knocked on the back door. She drew in a deep breath and prepared to face whatever new disaster the universe had wished on her and went to open it.
As soon as she saw the man on the porch, Sarah knew him. Bigger than she remembered, broader and more muscled. Sporting a bandage on his forehead that hadn’t been there in high school.
“Good. You’re up,” he said. “Rob Henderson.”
“Rob. What happened?” Beth shot across the kitchen. “You’re hurt.”
“Hey, Beth. Car accident last night. Just a little bump. Couldn’t get over here until now though.”
Sarah pushed the screen open so he could enter, light-headed with a sense of reprieve. The day looked about two thousand per cent better. And, she thought giddily, he was still cute. She’d had such a crush on him and had been too shy to admit it. Cool girls didn’t have crushes on younger guys. “I remember you.”
He grinned. “Best news I’ve had all day.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Rob’s grin widened and that killer dimple appeared in one cheek. “Didn’t you know I had a total crush on you? From about the third grade on.”
That was news. “You? Me? No,” she stammered, as flustered as if she were back in high school. That had been longer ago than she liked to remember. She was forty whatever, and so was he, so it was too many years ago to think about. Anyway, he appeared to have gotten over his crush very nicely, thank you, judging from the way he was grinning at Beth.
“Yeah, well, that was a long time ago,” he said, mirroring her thoughts. “A lot of life under the bridge since then.”
An expression that Sarah couldn’t identify flickered across his face, and she wondered just what had happened t
o him in those years.
“Anyway, I’m glad to be back in Crowley Falls. But it’s late. I better get to work. Show me where.”
Social time apparently was over, so Sarah led the way to the bathroom and pointed to a wall papered with a design of large, pink-edged white roses.
Rob stopped in the doorway. “Whoa. Serious flowers in here.”
Sarah laughed. “My mother loves old roses. This is Boule de Neige, a Bourbon rose. She thought it was appropriate for my father. I’m not sure that he agreed.”
Rob laughed. “Probably not. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“And you probably never will again. Mama bought miles of paper from a British firm that’s no longer in business. Their designs were all her favorite old roses.”
“Right. Mum told me your mother was a real rose nut. Won prizes at the County Fair with them every year.”
“She did.” Sarah smiled. “I hope she’ll be able to go back to her gardening, but I guess the fair isn’t going to be part of the deal anymore.”
Rob’s face sobered. “Maybe she’ll be lucky.”
Sarah shook off the gloom. “Anyway, I thought a diagonal bar on the wall there, and rails over there by the toilet. And when you have time, fix that mess where the shower bars came down.”
Rob considered briefly and turned to her with an approving nod. “Yeah. That’s good. No problem fixing the shower. The bars weren’t fastened into studs. Just lucky that wasn’t your mother pulling on them.”
Sarah shuddered at what might have happened. “You agree with where the bars should go?”
“Oh, yeah. But how about another one along there?”
Sarah nodded.
“It means I’ll have to make more holes in the wallpaper.”
Did he think she cared more about appearances than safety? “Go ahead. I recognize that bolting things to the wall means making holes, Rob.”
Rob mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Smart ass,” as he opened his tool box and pulled out an electric drill. “I’ll put in the rails and patch the wall. You got any extra paper to patch the holes?”
Sarah nodded.
“Good.” Rob’s expression was business-like when he asked about Hilda’s height and marked locations for each rail. “You might as well wait out in the kitchen. This is going to be noisy.”
Wallpaper with Roses Page 2