Fortunately, Char didn’t have much time to think on these things. She had two closings to do, one this morning and one tomorrow. After her first closing she returned to the office. She had a message on her cellphone and she called the person back. “Hello, this is Char Johnson.”
“Yes, Ms. Johnson, my name is Alfred Schneider from Sunnyside subdivision, and I got your name off the sign that was on one of the houses listed in our subdivision. I’m interested in selling my house, and I’d like to see about having you list it.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to help you sell your house. Would you like to schedule a meeting with me here at the office, or would you like me to come out to your place?”
“If you could come out here, that would be much appreciated.”
“That’s not a problem. What’s your address?” Char asked cheerfully.
“I’m at 7451 Coronado.”
“Where is it located in the subdivision?” Char asked.
“We are the next street over from Pueblo Lane. You turn down Sunset Boulevard as you drive into the subdivision, and then turn left, I’m the fourth house down.”
“Okay, when would you like to meet?”
“I can do it today, or tomorrow, Sunday or Monday, whichever day works best for you.” Mr. Schneider let out a sneeze.
“Bless you,” Char said.
“Thank you.”
“How about we meet today, say at two?”
“That sounds great. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
“Okay, Mr. Schneider, see you in a few hours.” Char snapped her cellphone shut.
“You got another seller?” Mike asked as he looked into Char’s cubicle.
“Yes,” Char replied crisply.
“Where are you getting all your clients?” Mike asked perplexed.
“What’s the matter, Mike, you haven’t got any clients?”
“Yeah, I’ve got clients, I just don’t know how you are getting any clients,” he answered with a snarl.
Char decided to ignore Mike and continued working. At one-thirty, she packed her briefcase and left to go out to Sunnyside to meet with her potential new client. As she drove down the road that led to the subdivision, she came up near Vincent’s house. There was a vehicle parked in his driveway that she didn’t recognize. Just before she got to his house, she turned down Sunset Boulevard and to Coronado and found the house she was looking for.
She grabbed her briefcase and her purse and got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk from the paved driveway to the door. A man stood at the door, ready to greet her when she arrived.
“Hello, Mr. Schneider?” Char said.
“Yes, you must be Ms. Johnson.” Mr. Schneider was an elderly man. He looked to be in his seventies and had thin, balding, gray hair and tanned skin. “Come on in and get out of this heat.”
“Thank you,” Char said, smiling broadly.
“This is my wife of sixty years, Hilda. Hilda, this is Ms. Johnson, the realtor I called earlier.”
Mrs. Schneider came up and shook Char’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, dear,” she said.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Char said sincerely.
Mr. Schneider led Char and Mrs. Schneider over to the dining room to sit down and talk. Char opened her briefcase and pulled out her clipboard with her check-off list on it. “So, you want to sell your home?” Char asked.
“Yes, we’ve decided we would much prefer to live in Florida, where our other home is, year around, instead of living here so far away from our family and friends,” Mrs. Schneider answered.
“Okay, let me ask you a few questions, and then I’ll have you give me a tour of the house so I can take some pictures.”
Char asked Mr. and Mrs. Schneider the usual questions, and then they gave her a walk-through. The house had a similar design to the one she was selling for Mrs. Sedewick, but it was in much better condition, and well maintained. There was no work to be done on it as far as she could see. The yard was immaculate, and they had an in-ground swimming pool in the back. They settled on an listing price of $115,000, signed the realtor contract, and then Char left. As she drove up Sunset Boulevard, she looked over at Vincent’s house and saw that the car she’d seen there earlier was gone. She turned and headed back to the office.
* * * *
Vincent was dog tired and needed to catch some shut eye. His sister delivered a beautiful five-pound baby girl at one in the morning. He was in awe of the experience and of the precious bundle of joy. He was proud of his sister for handling the entire birthing experience so well, and he was glad that she had chosen him to help her with the delivery. It reminded him of his own hope that he would one day help his wife deliver their baby.
By the time he notified everyone in the family, and left his sister and the baby to rest, it was 3:00 AM. He showed up to work at the casino at 4:00 AM. When he finally got home at 10:30 AM, he crashed in his bed. The last thing he remembered when he went to bed was Char. He wondered if he would have gone all the way with her and taken her to bed if they hadn’t been interrupted.
He’d had several visions of Char while they were talking about their history. The visions were a bit unsettling to him. They were not bad visions by any means, but he wasn’t quite ready to face the possibility that they were destined to meet and be together. He was having a hard time believing that the chance meeting between him and Char the day she had the flat tire was prearranged.
He was awakened by an insistent ringing about 12:30 PM. The cats had gotten up as well from their slumber. One of them let out a pitiful meow, trying to wake Vincent up. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” he mumbled.
He reached over and pulled on his sweatpants and a t-shirt. The doorbell kept ringing as he sauntered out to it.
He ran into the television stand with his foot as he walked to the door. “Oww, damn it.” He peeped out the moon-shaped window in the door to see who it was. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself. The last person he wanted to talk to right now was his ex-wife. He opened the door and looked out at her with a frown on his face. “What do you want?” he asked curtly.
“I need to talk to you, Vinnie,” Tammie said.
“About what?”
“Could you please let me in so we can discuss it?” Tammie pleaded.
He unlocked the screen door to let her in. She entered and walked up to him, wanting to give him a kiss. He quickly grabbed her by her arms and stopped her. “What do you want?” he asked impatiently.
She walked over and sat down on the couch. “Wow, you sure are grumpy. When did you get to bed?”
“About eleven this morning,” Vincent said gruffly.
“Why so late?”
“None of your concern. Now, for the third time, what do you want?” Vincent asked, agitated.
Tammie patted the seat of the couch next to her, motioning for him to come and sit beside her. Instead, Vincent sat on the arm of the chair next to the couch.
“Vinnie, I’m so sorry about everything. I have made some pretty horrible mistakes. Hurting you is at the very top of that list. I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
Vincent leaned over and put his hands on his knees. Jesus, why is she here now telling me this? He stared at her, looking at her long, silky blonde hair, her pale blue eyes, a smile that was worth a million bucks, and her tanned, lean body that he used to love to lay next to. He moved his eyes back up to hers. He saw a look pass through her face, a subtle one, but he saw it. She was hard up for money, and crawling back to him to see if she could get some from him.
“You want money, don’t you?” he asked abruptly.
“Vinnie, no. I was going to say I wanted to win you back!” She plastered a false smile on her face.
“That’s not going to happen, Tammie. I’m not interested,” Vincent replied tersely, crossing his arms.
Tammie got up and walked over to him. “Well, you would say that now, but I know how to convince you to forgive me and take me back into your life, don’t I?�
� She caressed his arm and leaned over so that her mouth was near his.
“Not this time. I’m not buying it. Look, I’m tired and I want to go back to bed. You need to leave.” He stood up and grabbed her arm and forcibly walked her to the door. He opened it and practically shoved her out.
“Vinnie, I—”
“Goodbye, Tammie,” Vincent said with emphasis, and closed the door in her face.
He knew she was playing some sort of game, but he was just too tired to figure it out right now. He went back into his bedroom and laid down on top of the blankets.
Chapter 8
Char got up early on Saturday morning and decided to go downtown to the Jarillo Café, grab some breakfast, and read the local newspaper to find out more about the town. As she walked into the café and looked around, she saw Vincent in the corner with Rosie and Jonathan. She waved at them and then went and sat down at the other side of the restaurant.
The waitress came up to her and asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Um, yeah, coffee and water please,” Char said.
“Okay, will be right back.” The waitress smiled.
The waitress came back with her water and coffee and took her order. Char then pulled out the local newspaper and started reading it. As she read, she saw that Sunnyside subdivision was having its monthly homeowners’ association meeting that was scheduled for today at four.
It seemed the big news for today was that the county had approved the opening of the town pool. She had access to a swimming pool at her apartment complex, but she’d never used it. As much as she would love to lay in the sun by the pool, she tended to burn and get more freckles on her skin, so she avoided it. Plus, she didn’t like to go to a pool by herself. There were just some things she didn’t do alone and going to a swimming pool alone made her feel awkward.
The waitress brought her food over to her table, and she had started to eat when Vincent strolled up. “Good morning, Char,” he said quietly.
“Good morning,” she replied with a smile.
“Mind if I join you for a bit?”
“Please do,” she answered, taking a napkin from her lap to pat her mouth. “How did it go with your sister?”
“It went very well. She had a beautiful baby girl and named her Emily. She came out at five pounds, three ounces with a good pair of lungs.” He smiled gently.
Char put her elbows on the table, clasped her hands together under her chin, and looked at him. “Something tells me that you’ll make a great uncle, and she’ll have you wrapped around her little finger.”
Vincent chuckled. “Someone will have to be a male role model for her if Debbie keeps getting involved with these losers.” His face turned from gentle to a serious and sad look.
“I thought that Debbie and Bruce looked like a good couple together,” Char added.
“Yeah, well, Bruce is very shy when it comes to Debbie for some reason. I know he has feelings for her, but Debbie treats him as if he’s just a friend. I’ve tried to encourage him to tell her about his feelings. He would be very good to her, and to the baby. I guess as I think about it, I could give that relationship the right ‘nudge’ that it needs, and come right out and talk to Debbie about it. How are things going with you?”
“Fine. I have another house for sale in your subdivision.”
“Really? Which one?” Vincent asked.
“It’s the house on Coronado. Um, a Mr. and Mrs. Schneider.”
“Alfred and Hilda? Why are they leaving?”
“They want to move to Florida where all their family and friends are,” Char said.
“Oh, yeah, all their kids are in Florida. They’re a nice couple. I hope it goes well for them. What are they asking for the house?”
“One hundred and fifteen thousand,” Char said.
“Hmm, you know, my sister Rosie wants to move out to Sunnyside, I’ll have to let her know that you have a house for sale. I don’t know if they can afford a hundred and fifteen thousand though.”
“What do they do for work, Vincent?”
“They have a laundromat business down the street, and Rosie also works at the hospital in Hobbs on the midnight shift. She’s a nurse’s assistant. I’ll mention the house to them and have them give you a call if they’re interested.”
“Okay.”
“You didn’t stop by this time.” Vincent smiled.
“No, there was no need. Besides, there was a car in your driveway, and I didn’t want to intrude.”
Vincent knitted his eyebrows together, as if trying to remember who was in his driveway.
Char was watching his expression, and it display all sorts of feelings that he wasn’t sharing, from confusion to recognition. She could tell that he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it and the subject seemed to draw his contempt.
“What do you have planned today?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I have a date tonight,” Char shot out, unexpectedly. Where did that come from?
Vincent’s eyes bolted up to hers. “Yeah? With who?”
“Benjamin Marlowe.” Char had to think of an answer quickly and thought about the author of a book she had been reading.
Vincent smiled slightly. “Really?” he asked, as if he was seeing straight through her.
“Yep,” Char retorted. “Actually, downtown Hobbs is having an art show, and I think I’ll go there today to see if I can find a picture for my bedroom wall.”
Char wondered if Vincent would be interested in going with her, but she didn’t want to ask him. She bit down on her lower lip, trying to keep herself from asking him to go with her. She wanted to spend some time with him, but she knew she shouldn’t get involved. She was still really conflicted about his line of work. She felt there was just something wrong with getting involved with a man that was working in an establishment that was feeding her father’s addiction.
“What kind of picture are you looking for?” Vincent asked.
“I like abstract colors and contours.”
Vincent smiled and quipped, “You like runaway colors and lines that lead to nowhere.”
“You like something you can make sense of,” Char countered.
Vincent chuckled. “Yeah, I do.”
They got up from the table and got ready to leave. Char walked up to pay for her breakfast and Vincent was called over to another table where a couple wanted to have a word with him.
They walked out of the café together and Vincent followed Char to her car. “Have fun shopping today, Char,” he said with a small smile.
Char pressed her fist against her mouth. She was struggling within herself.
“What’s wrong, Char?”
“Um, nothing’s wrong,” she answered, still keeping her hand to her lips, biting her nails.
Vincent pulled her hand away from her mouth then bent down and kissed her tenderly, like a paintbrush, on her lips. His hand stroked her face as gentle as a breeze, and then he turned and walked over to his truck.
Char got into her car and drove to downtown Hobbs, where the art show was at. She parked about five blocks from the show and got out and walked to it. The art show was set up in the middle of three downtown streets and there were over a hundred and fifty artisans. She loved going to art shows, and she always found things that she could buy for her apartment or for gifts.
She found a black-and-white picture that silhouetted a woman’s body on the edge of a bathtub and would go perfect in her bedroom. It was a nice-sized picture that would go up on the wall over her queen-sized bed. She also bought some pieces of raku pottery that she planned to put on her tables in the living room.
Char got home from the art show about noon. Her cellphone rang, and it was an Ann Arbor number, but she didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Char Johnson?”
“Yes, this is Char Johnson.”
“This is Minnie, Dennis Harrison’s sister.”
“Hi, Minnie. How are you doing?”
“O
h, okay I guess. I wanted to touch base with you to find out what happened to my brother,” she said sadly.
“Um, I don’t really know what happened to him, Minnie. I happened to find his body in a house that I was checking out before listing it for sale,” Char replied quietly. “Do you know why he was here in New Mexico?”
“According to Mom and Dad, Dennis had been off drugs for several months. I don’t know if I believe that or not, but they said he was getting professional help for his drug habit and he was headed to New Mexico to see you. He wanted you to know he was clean and wanted to see if there was any chance that the two of you could get back together.”
“I never heard from him. When did he arrive here?”
“Ah—he left about a month or so ago,” Minnie said.
“Have you or your parents talked to Sheriff Turner about this?” Char asked.
“No. The state police came by a few days ago and told us that he’d been found dead.”
“I’m probably going to have to let the sheriff here know what you’ve told me. Is it okay for me to give them your name and telephone number if they have more questions to ask?”
“Yeah, that would be fine. I’m married now, my last name is Schmit.” Minnie gave Char her telephone number and Char wrote the information down.
“I know they did an autopsy on him, and they’re waiting on toxicology reports to see if there were any drugs in his body.”
“Yes. The medical examiner called my parents the other day and shared his initial findings. He said they didn’t find anything in his stomach either.”
There was a few minutes of silence, then Char asked, “How are your parents doing?”
“As well as can be expected. They were pretty shook up when the police came to the house and told them about Dennis.”
“Well, it’s not the news any parent would like to hear,” Char added.
“Right. Nor does a sister like to hear her only childhood playmate had died.”
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