Chancey Jobs (Chancey Books Book 4)

by Kay Shostak

  After a couple bites, I’m in love. Her pies are straight from heaven. I have no idea what this pie is made of, some kind of berries. The crust is so good and buttery. With the hot coffee, it’s about perfection.

  “Mine was chocolate.”

  The last piece of crust sticks in my throat as I hear Peter’s voice from beside me. He sits on the stool and swirls it around so he’s facing me.

  “I bet it was good. This is berry of some kind.”

  “Looks good. Save me a bite.”

  I swivel my head to look at him. His eyes are literally twinkling. “Just joking. I know the old crows here would really be cawing if you start feeding me from your plate.”

  “Peter, it’s not funny. Even Anna got onto me. Folks here don’t get us just being friends.” I pick up the last piece of crust and put it in my mouth. Not so much because I wanted it, but in fear he’d pick it up and eat it if I left it. When I look back up at him, I can see in his eyes he knows what I’m thinking.

  And he thinks it’s funny.

  His eyes suddenly shift behind me. “Mother. I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

  I turn a bit on my stool to see Missus standing next to me. “Is this something you two cooked up?”

  Again, someone accusing me of cooking. Although I don’t think Missus means in the kitchen. “So now Anna and Will might not move in with us, but settle for that shack you’re trying to fix up?”

  “Mother, it was just an idea,” Peter says. Then with the twinkle back in place he adds, “Carolina checked out the second floor last night and thought it was fine. Didn’t you?”

  “Of course it’s fine. But I didn’t know any—”

  “You two are always cooking up something together. First the ghost up at your place, Carolina, and now this.”

  “Wait, the ghost up at my place wasn’t my idea. That was you. All you.”

  She waves her hand at me. “My great-grandchild will be sleeping under my roof. Make no mistake about that.” She crosses her arms before whirling around and dismissing us both. Ruby comes up and leans on the counter behind me.

  “Well, looks like y’all have been put on notice. No more fooling around.”

  Peter just shrugs and raises his hands in innocence. I scoop up the change laying on the counter and shove it in my jeans pocket as I stand and shake my head at Ruby. “No tip for you. And maybe I will start going to Jordan’s. Lots less crowded down there, I bet.”

  I meet Susan coming in when I open Ruby’s front door, and I ask, “Want to walk down to MoonShots? I hear the older kids are all down there. Grant and Bryan are spending the night at Matt’s, and his mom and dad are back there in the booth.”

  We both wave at the boys and at Matt’s mom and dad, then walk out the door and down the sidewalk. She pulls down the sleeves of her shirt, she’s always freezing. Must come with being so skinny.

  I ask, “Did Laney catch up with you at the game?”

  “Yeah, she sure was in a bad mood.”

  “Yeah, I caught a bit of that before she went looking for you. She told Beau she was hungover.”

  “Hungover? Really? She did seem like she didn’t feel good.”

  “But weren’t the girls all over there last night late? Would she drink that much with them there?”

  Susan stops. “You’re right. And I talked to her around 10:30, and she sounded fine.” We continue walking and then slow as we survey the insides of the book and florist shop. Shannon has little lights left on in her side, but the book side is dark and cluttered. Like a junk store, which is what Gertie said. Then as we reach the windows of MoonShots we stop again and look inside.

  There are a couple tables of teenagers, but they don’t look to be having that much fun. Of course, it was their friends who lost the game earlier. Susie Mae is there, but Savannah and Laney’s girls aren’t.

  “Looks like the younger high schoolers,” Susan says. Then she turns to me. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go check out Laney’s new B&B tomorrow. You free?”

  “Absolutely. That’s a great idea.”

  “Maybe it’s not as wonderful as she keeps telling us it is. Maybe that’s why she’s so grumpy.”

  “Speaking of grumpy,” I say with a nod inside the coffee shop, “look at Jordan.”

  She has her blonde hair pulled back in a little ponytail, but it doesn’t look as smooth and polished as it used to. Her face has lost the polished look, too. She’s still beautiful, but her face pulls downward, helped along by her mouth. The crispness which made her stand out is gone. She looks tired.

  “Oh, fudge, we’ve Chancified her,” I say.

  Susan bends her head toward me. “And what does that mean?”

  “You know, made her normal. Tired, grumpy, frazzled.”

  “You’re saying that’s how we are?” Susan looks for a moment at her reflection in the window, then focuses on Jordan. “Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t think it was possible for her to look normal, did you?”

  “Guess not. I figured she was like Laney and would defy the odds to stay looking good.”

  “Now I am getting worried about my sister. She has gotten frumpier lately, hasn’t she?” Susan turns toward me. “And if you ever tell her I said that, I’ll deny it to the moon and back.”

  As a group of kids leave, we hold open the door as they mumble hello’s to us, and then they head across the street to the park. We enter into the brightness.

  “Mom, can Carrie spend the night?” Susie Mae asks before the door even closes behind us.

  “Sure, if it’s okay with her mom.”

  “It is,” the girl beside Susie Mae says without even looking up from her phone. “I just texted her.”

  Susan looks at the table and then leans to look in her daughter’s cup. “I’ll be heading home in a just a minute. You want to ride with me or get a ride later?”

  The girls glance at each other and shrug. “We’ll go with you.”

  While they talk, I wander to the counter. “Hey, Jordan. So you’re selling food?”

  She stands with one hand on her hip and even her slump is no longer stylish but looks like any normal tired person. Of course, she is still 5’10” and supermodel thin.

  “I guess you can call it food. It’s not very good, not like the fresh pastries we can get back home. And what’s up with being open at odd hours? The kids working today said if Ruby was opening we had to. I didn’t make more than a handful of sales tonight. What a waste of time.”

  Susan looks at the pastry case as she walks up. “Were those frozen?”

  Jordan doesn’t answer, just starts ringing up the register. “Time to close.”

  Susan and I make eye contact, and we both frown. Jordan looks even more beatdown up close.

  “Wanna take a ride with us tomorrow?” Susan asks, and I know she’s doing it as an olive branch. “Kind of a quick road trip?”

  “Really?” There’s a bit of a spark in the young woman’s eyes, and she stands taller. “I’d love to get out of this place. This store. This town. It’s dead here once the kids go to school in the mornings. This was a stupid place for a MoonShots. We’re losing our ass—” She breaks off when Susan’s and my eyes widen. “Oh, that’s right. No cussing either. God, this place is a nightmare.” She closes her eyes and holds her hand up to us. “I know. Gosh. Gosh, this place is a nightmare.” She lifts the money drawer out of the register and takes it back to the safe.

  “Really?” I whisper to Susan. “We’re taking her?”

  Susan scrunches up her nose. “Well, it seemed like a good idea for a minute.”

  Jordan stomps back toward us. “What time? You want to just come by here? Get a coffee for the road? I’ll get someone to fill in for me, or maybe I’ll just shut it down. Not like Diego would see a difference in the receipts.”

  “Ten?” Susan says looking at me. I nod, and she swivels back to Jordan. But Jordan has walked to the end of the counter and headed toward the few kids sitting at the table where Susie M
ae and Carrie still are.

  “I’m closing, kids.” She picks up the cups and napkins and doesn’t even glance at the startled faces. The kids don’t waste time leaving.

  “See you at ten,” she says as she dumps the garbage in the can beside the counter. She pauses at the light switch long enough to turn off the overhead lights and leave us in semi-darkness. She ignores us as she continues closing down, and with a quick look at each other, we join the kids milling around on the sidewalk.

  Susie Mae looks behind us. “Jordan kicked y’all out too? She’s in a bad mood lately. Kinda glad I didn’t get a job here now.”

  I turn the opposite way from them, and Susan calls out to me, “Where are you parked?”

  “Oh, down here. Everything was full when I got here earlier.”

  Susan scans the few cars left near the square, and then I see her realize where my car is. “Parked at Peter’s?”

  “It was the only place.”

  Susie Mae turns to walk backwards, and I can’t see her grin in the dark, but I can hear it in her words. “Mr. Peter has a crush on you!”

  Susan just waves her hand at her daughter and gives me a ‘told you so’ look. Okay, I couldn’t actually see her look, but that is her specialty.

  Chapter 28

  “Do we have to take these backroads?” My perch in the back seat of Griffin’s little car is fine, except my stomach is queasy from all the swoops we’re making.

  Susan glances over her shoulder. “They can truly only be considered back roads if there is a bigger road to take. This is the highway between Chancey and Collinswood, no back road at all.”

  “Reminds me why I never go home to Illinois. Not the curves or hills, but the nothingness. Hard to imagine there could be this much nothing.” Jordan stretches her legs as much as she can, but even in the front seat, there’s little room. “This is your husband’s car, you said?”

  “Yeah, he needed my van to pick up gardening stuff when he’s down in Marietta this afternoon.” Susan tilts her head towards the backseat. “How’s your garden coming, Carolina?”

  “Okay, I guess. Got some stuff planted, so just wait and see now.”

  As we swoop around another looping curve of grass and patches of tiny purple, yellow, and white flowers, the conversation lags. We sip our coffees in their purple MoonShots cups and don’t talk. I watch the play of the sun on the hills and trees. The morning air was mild as we gathered at MoonShots, but by time we left the store, the morning shadows and mildness were gone. You can practically hear everything growing. Okay, enough quiet.

  “So you just closed the store. Is that really going to be okay?” I ask the front seat passenger.

  Jordan doesn’t seem as eager to relinquish the quiet, but since Susan (I’m sure) also wants to hear the answer to my question, no one says anything. We just wait her out.

  “I’ve done everything Diego wanted,” she says. “Everything. Moved here without complaining, much. I haven’t called him or the girls. Only talked bad about his mother when no one was around. Haven’t gotten drunk, or been on TMZ after they got tired of hanging around after the tornado, or screwed around, or gotten together with my friends. Everything. Yet has he forgiven me? Let me talk to my daughters? Given me any idea of when I get out of this prison? No. Nothing. Nada. So why should I keep jumping through his hoops?”

  “Sounds like he holds all the cards,” Susan says.

  “Yep, every damn one of them. Oops, sorry for saying ‘damn.’ Bless my heart.”

  I speak up from the back seat. “You can’t bless your own heart. But, you know, Diego seemed nice when he was here. He’s probably just hurt and worried about the girls. And you.”

  Jordan sighs. “I know. That’s why I agreed to everything. You ladies won’t understand this, but until you think you’re losing everything, you don’t really know what you have.”

  Susan dips her head to meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. “We might know a bit more about that than you think.” She looks back at the road. “Simple places don’t always mean simple lives.”

  “Well, New York is anything but simple. I know there are dozens of beautiful women throwing themselves at him, and here I am stuck in the boondocks. You saw how gorgeous he is.”

  From the backseat, I agree. “I think he’s the best looking man I’ve ever seen. Can I ask you what you could possibly have seen in another guy? I always wonder that when some beautiful celebrity gets cheated on. If someone like Halle Berry can be cheated on, how does anyone stand a chance keeping a man?”

  Jordan shakes her head. “I have no idea. It just gets out of hand, and before you know it, you’ve gone too far.”

  Susan brakes the car, and we slide to a stop at a red light in the middle of nowhere. As the sound of the motor fades, a silence fills the car, and I remember sitting at the winery last winter with Peter. All the times it could’ve gone further. And Jackson with Carter all day when she was so unhappy in her marriage. What seems so real and visible suddenly appears fragile and susceptible.

  Susan clears her throat as the light turns green, and she accelerates the car. “My lies almost ruined my relationship with Griffin. We’re still working on it. I wasn’t cheating with another man, but keeping lies for my daughter was a type of cheating. I forgot Griffin was supposed to come first.”

  “Hey, that’s like something Diego said when he was here,” Jordan says as she sits up straight. “That he had to take some of the blame, as he’d not put me first. Said he wanted to change.” Her voice falls, and she sits back slowly.

  “Well, that sounds good,” I prompt as she doesn’t continue. “What did you say?”

  She pulls in a deep breath and lets it out slowly before answering. “I called him a liar and told him he was just trying to play the saint.”

  And the silence is back.

  g%

  “I don’t understand wanting to stay in someone’s house,” Jordan whispers. “Especially their old house.”

  Susan shushes her, adding, “Remember who you’re with,” and she motions at me with her shoulder.

  “Yeah, but yours is about trains. Don’t understand that either, but it’s at least a reason.”

  We found the Charming House B&B and are now standing at the front door. We’ve rung the doorbell, tried the door knob, even peeked around the corners to see if there was anyone in the side yard.

  Jordan pushes past Susan and bangs on the door with her fist.

  “Jordan! Stop that,” I say as I pull her back and away from the big wooden door. “You’re going to knock it down.”

  But she does get results. The door opens. Flies open actually. And an old man sticks his head out of the door. “What’s going on? I was coming, takes a bit to get down the stairs.”

  “We’re sorry,” Susan says. “We weren’t sure if you were open.”

  “You lookin’ for a place to stay? We got one room that’s ready.” He looks us over. “But y’all’d probably want separate beds. Only got one bed in that room. Drat, that Mrs. Conner, she’s supposed to have gotten us up and running by now. Y’all come on in.”

  He turns inside as he motions for us to enter. We look at each other at the dratting of Laney and follow him into the dark room.

  He goes to a big, old-fashioned desk with lots of cubby holes and starts shuffling through the stacks of papers there. “I can’t make head nor tails of all this. Probably best if you ladies just go find somewhere else to stay.”

  Susan pats his arm, but before she can say anything, Jordan steps up. “When are you supposed to open? Can we just take a look around? We’re not interested in staying right now, we’re checking out places for an event later this year.”

  He looks up at her, and as she shifts her weight to lean on her other hip, she flips her blonde hair and tilts her head to more pointedly fix her eyes on his.

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. No problem with that. Just follow me.” He leads us back into the kitchen, which is dark, because there are curtains pulled on t
he windows. “This was all my wife Jean’s dream. Move to the mountains and open a B&B. Who knew it would be so much work?” We follow him up a narrow set of back stairs. At the top, we walk down a wide hallway as he points out non-descript bedroom after non-descript bedroom. The only one available, and fully furnished, is just as non-descript as the others but with furniture and bedding. At the end of the hall, we are still following him as we come down the front staircase.

  Back at the front door, our tour is complete, and he’s not mentioned Laney again. Just his wife, but I can’t tell if his wife is alive, or sick, or what. So finally, taking a page out of Jordan’s book, I just ask.

  “She’s over to the hospital to visit Mrs. Conner. Mrs. Conner, that’s our manager, took sick. She’s not gotten much done round here, and then this morning she flat out faints right there in the living room.” The man shakes his head. “We ain’t ever going to open.”

  Susan gasps and turns for the door. I motion for Jordan to follow her outside. “Which hospital?”

  “Oh, the one out at the highway. It’s that new place. Highway toward Chancey.”

  It clicks, and I remember passing a medical place, so I shake his hand and rush out. Jordan is in the back seat, and Susan is in the passenger’s seat. They’ve left the driver’s door open for me. I slide in and put on my seatbelt.

  Susan has her phone out. “I don’t have any messages. I’m calling Laney’s cell.” She points me in the right direction, but when she says, “Laney?” I hit the brake and pull to the side of the neighborhood street.

  “Laney, where are you?”

  We can hear Laney’s voice as she talks and talks. I’m turned halfway in my seat looking at Susan, and Jordan is pushed up right behind Susan’s seat. “Okay, then you better go. See you later,” Susan says. Then she hangs up the call, and her hand holding the phone falls to her lap.

  “What did she say?” I ask. “Is she okay?”

  Susan grits her teeth. “She’s at work, she said. They have workmen at her B&B, and she’s having to direct their every move. She can’t talk right now because she’s expecting an inspector there any minute.”