by Carol Ross
“I do. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”
Shay hung up and went to tell Hannah she was leaving.
Quick stops at the hardware store, the pharmacy to pick up her mom’s prescription, then the bakery, and she was soon pulling up in front of Caleb’s house. She texted her mom to let her know she’d be swinging by with her medication later. Then she grabbed the packages and tried to be brave.
She dreaded seeing Jonah again. Things had been okay since bingo, but she knew that was why—because she hadn’t seen him. They’d only exchanged calls and texts.
“Caleb?” she hollered, walking in without knocking because she knew they were expecting her.
“Shay, there you are. Thanks so much for stopping by. Darn washing machine—I was hoping we could figure it out like last time.”
“No problem.” Caleb looked good, maybe a little tired, which concerned her because Jonah said he’d been napping a lot.
She handed over the bags. “Here are your flossers and a loaf of that honey wheat bread that I told you about—that Lilah’s been baking at the Donut Den? I thought you might like to try some for your peanut butter toast.”
Caleb smiled. “I sure would—especially with these little gadgets to get the peanuts out of my teeth. Thank you, Shay.”
Jonah strolled in, a dark sheen of whiskers covering his jaw, black hair ruffled, jeans attractively faded, Chicago Cubs T-shirt hugging in all the right places. Exactly how much stew and cobbler would it take to make him fat? she wondered.
But his annoyed scowl was even better than a paunch at reminding her of how unattractive he could be. In fact, annoyed ranked right up there with condescending smirk in that department.
“What’s going on with the washer?” she asked Caleb.
“I’m not sure. Jonah put in a load of clothes and a while later it just kind of sputtered to a stop.”
She looked at Jonah. “Did you drain the water out?”
Jonah crossed his arms over his chest, looking a bit defensive.
Shay imagined he hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of calling her in the first place. This used to be something they joked about—her superior mechanical skills.
“I didn’t have to because it happened near the end of the spin cycle. I’m not used to these old agitators. I have one of the front-loading machines now. I’ve been trying to talk Gramps into replacing this ancient piece of junk with one of those but he won’t hear of it.”
Shay flicked her eyes up toward the ceiling impatiently before turning them back on Caleb. “Obviously Mr. Moneybag’s solution would be to buy a new one.
“I realize, Jonah, it’s been a while since you’ve lived here, so I’ll refresh your memory. We don’t generally get rid of things around here just because there’s a shiny new model available. We’re proud of the use we get out of the things we have. Unlike you folks, who fall for those marketing ploys thinking something newer is going to be better—we don’t. We like to fix things and then brag about how many miles we get out of something before we have to buy something new.”
Caleb grinned at her proudly. “I was just telling him the same thing.”
“Yeah, well, you know what they say about a fool and his money.”
They laughed together. She glanced at Jonah who was biting his cheek. She couldn’t decide if he was amused or irritated.
“Let’s go take a look.” She headed for the laundry room, the Cedar men following close behind.
“I don’t see anything obvious,” Shay said a while later after she’d removed the agitator and the drum, checked, cleaned and lubricated all the moving parts she figured could be causing a problem. Then she carefully reassembled the appliance—Jonah handing her various tools as needed.
“The motor looks fine and sounds fine when I turn it by hand. There was some debris under the drum, but that shouldn’t make it quit like that.”
“Huh.” Caleb scratched his head.
“Do we order one from Bradbury’s?” Jonah asked. He sounded eager as he brushed his palms together for effect. “I’m guessing they don’t stock washing machines—especially not the front-loading ones.”
Shay scowled. “I know your credit card is burning a hole in your pocket, but let’s turn the thing on first and see what happens. You never know with these machines. Sometimes just moving things around and cleaning off the parts can help. Or maybe something was jammed under the drum and dislodged when I removed it.”
Jonah muttered something that sounded like, “my money isn’t what’s burning a hole in my pocket.”
“What?” Shay asked sharply, assuming he was making a joke at her expense.
“Nothing—never mind, but I think I’ll go get my shoes on and grab my wallet just in case. And we might as well get you a new dryer while we’re at it, huh, Gramps?”
He stood there looking proud of himself like he’d actually done something wonderful, besides offer to spend his money.
“Let’s try firing her back up like Shay suggested first. I need to plug her back in though.” Caleb disappeared behind the washer for a moment. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Shay pulled the dial, and prayed.
The machine surged to life and then proceeded to smoothly continue through the cycle without a problem.
“She’s really spinning now,” Caleb said. “And she’s not making that clinky noise like she was before either.” He patted the machine, and winked at Shay. “Not bad for an old piece of junk, eh?”
“Not bad at all,” Shay agreed. Then she looked sideways at Jonah and waited for a response.
Jonah sighed, but Shay could see he was fighting a grin. “All right, already—you guys win—for now. But we’ll see how long this tired heap of metal lasts. And next time, I’m buying you a new one, Gramps. No argument.”
The phone rang and Caleb hurried toward the kitchen to answer the call.
“Nicely done, but of course I’m not surprised. Do you still do all the maintenance at the inn?” Jonah opened the washer and began stuffing in the still-wet clothes from his earlier attempt.
“Most,” Shay answered, irrationally pleased by the compliment. “What I can anyway. Tag is really handy, too, as you know, so he helps me out sometimes, and then I have a guy I can call—and of course an electrician.”
Jonah turned and leaned against the washer. “It seems like there’s a lot that could go wrong in a place like that.”
“You’d be amazed,” she said and then proceeded to tell him about the time the electricity went out and the generator wouldn’t start.
“Thank goodness we have that giant fireplace in the lobby. Thirty-some guests huddled around singing campfire songs and telling stories until Bering and Tag, hours later, could bring in another generator and get it hooked up.”
“How did people handle that?”
“Guests are generally so nice—I actually received a couple cards thanking me for that wonderful evening around the campfire. I think the experience was hardest on me, as I tried not to lunge for the extinguisher every time someone put another log on the fire.”
They were both laughing when Caleb reappeared. He looked from her to Jonah and back again, a pleased expression on his face.
“Sorry to duck out on you guys, but I’ve gotta run. Shay, thanks again for fixing the old girl.”
“Run?” Jonah asked. “Where?”
“I’ve got a thing I forgot about.”
“What thing, Gramps?”
Caleb scratched his cheek and Shay tried to decide if he looked embarrassed or confused. Her stomach tightened with a fresh bout of anxiety. It wasn’t like Caleb to forget. Anything. Ever.
“I, uh, I promised Doc I’d help him put together his new deck chairs.”
“Oh, I don’t remember you mentioning it.”
He pointed a finger at Jonah. “I just told you I forgot. I’ve been doing that a bit lately, haven’t I? Probably just age, huh? I made a batch of cookies earlier and put on a fresh pot of coffee, so you two enjoy.”
He turned and hustled out the door.
Shay reached down and scratched Francis’s snout. Neither Shay nor Jonah spoke for a long moment.
Then he looked up and whispered, “Please don’t let him be getting dementia or Alzheimer’s.”
“Jonah, I’m sure it’s not that.” She said the words but her thoughts had already taken off in that direction.
Without speaking they moved together toward the kitchen. Jonah poured two cups of coffee and slid one cup across the countertop toward Shay where she now sat on a stool. Jonah leaned a hip against the lower cupboard. A plate of Caleb’s famous oatmeal raisin cookies sat untouched between them.
“Have you noticed anything like this before? Gramps forgetting things?”
“No. Never.” Shay wanted badly to reassure him.
“This wouldn’t be that big of a deal except combined with the state of his office it’s... You haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary lately?”
“No, I... No.”
His tone had a new level of intensity. “Shay, this is important. Think. You haven’t noticed him forgetting things? Losing things? Missing appointments? Anything like that at all?”
“Jonah, no,” she answered with an edge to her tone, too. “Don’t you think I would have said something if I’d noticed anything like that?”
“I do, but...”
“But what?”
“He’s not a young man anymore. Have you considered that maybe you may not have picked up on something this subtle? Being around, all the time, you might not be able to see the situation as clearly as I do—” His words, his tone combined, with an already high level of anxiety, to ignite her temper. “Hold on there. Let me get this straight. You’re saying you have a better view of your grandfather’s life from three-thousand miles away in Chicago than I do—from right here in Rankins? I am well aware of the fact that he’s aging, Jonah. I have parents, too, that I watch out for. I look out for everyone in my life.”
Jonah held up his hands, palms down in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, all I’m saying is that I think we need to analyze this from every angle as objectively as we can and—”
“You know what, Jonah?” Shay slid off the stool, her heart pounding so loudly in her head that it seemed she could barely hear her own voice. So she made it louder. “I’m sorry if I’m not an unemotional robot like you who can visit my grandfather every year or two for about twenty minutes and be okay with that. How dare you march in here and treat me like a defendant on the witness stand, and accuse me of missing something this important? He has not been forgetting things, Jonah. On the contrary—he reminds me of things on a regular basis.”
“Shay—”
“No, we’re done. This conversation is over. I have to go. I need to get back to the inn.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“MS. JAMES, MAY I speak with you for a second?”
Shay froze at the sound of Mr. Takagi’s voice. The man had a manner of speaking that always made him sound angry, even when he wasn’t, although right now she feared he might be. She plastered on a smile and turned toward him, her scalp prickling with anxiety.
“Of course, Mr. Takagi.” Please don’t let Hannah have killed off any of the goldfish.
Mr. Takagi had arrived as scheduled. Hannah had checked him in, and over the following days she had taken care of everything Takagi-related—getting him settled in their best suite, setting up and then transferring the fish to their temporary home, and driving him out to visit Mrs. Milner to tour her new atrium and pond.
Hannah had been continually assuring Shay that everything was going well. And she’d been relieved to allow Hannah to handle it all, thinking that she already had enough to deal with herself. Now she feared the ramifications of that decision even as the guilt welled up for laying so much responsibility on Hannah.
“I would like to discuss your sister, Hannah.”
Shay looked at him expectantly and opened her mouth to begin apologizing.
“Your sister is an absolute treasure, Ms. James. I have never seen such a sharp mind or such a hard worker in one so young as Hannah.”
“Oh? Why, yes, thank you, Mr. Takagi. She is indeed. And she does...work very hard.” That last part was true. Hannah did work hard. Her time training to be a professional skier had instilled a work ethic that was translating beautifully into the business world, even if she might need to take things a smidge more seriously sometimes.
“She is an asset to your business, Ms. James. And I hope you realize how valuable she is. I have never seen anyone take to the intricacies of caring for the nishikigoi in the sense that she has.”
Shay could see Hannah grinning at her over Mr. Takagi’s shoulder.
“I am so pleased to hear this, Mr. Takagi.”
“Your sister could easily become a breeder.”
“A breeder?” Shay repeated carefully.
“Yes, the nishikigoi require a special touch to produce high quality offspring. Hannah has the touch, and if you are not careful, Ms. James, I may try to lure her away.”
He laughed, Hannah laughed, Shay chimed in mostly out of relief.
“You can be sure that I will reward Hannah for her efforts, Mr. Takagi.”
Mr. Takagi bobbed his head. “I am very glad to hear this. She truly deserves such a reward.”
Hannah smiled and began speaking, her tone a perfect mix of respect and admiration, “Shay, nishikigoi have the most interesting history. It’s absolutely fascinating. I’ve typed up a fact sheet, laminated it and placed it by our temporary pond in the courtyard so that our guests can truly appreciate them, too.”
Shay was impressed by Hannah’s pronunciation of the Japanese word, not to mention her newfound devotion to ornamental fish.
She nearly choked at Hannah’s next statement.
“It seems difficult to conceive, doesn’t it Shay, that some people believe these exquisite creatures are simply glorified goldfish? When, in fact, the two fish were developed from entirely different species of carp.”
“Mmm, yes. It certainly does, Hannah.”
“Did you know the nishikigoi is a symbol of love and friendship in Japan?”
“I did not know that. How interesting.”
“Yes, it is, and Shay, Mr. T has generously gifted me one—a showa sanke. I have told him he is too generous but he insists.”
Mr. T? Shay swallowed nervously and tried to remember what she’d just been told. Hannah was getting a pet fish? “A showa sanke?”
But apparently the pronunciation wasn’t quite right because Hannah spoke the words again.
“Showa sanke—yes, she is incredibly beautiful with black, white and red markings. She looks like a calico cat.” Hannah glanced at Mr. Takagi and added, “Only much prettier and so much better behaved.”
Hannah and Mr. Takagi started to giggle and then burst out laughing. How nice. Apparently, Hannah and “Mr. T.” were now sharing private jokes.
“Mrs. Milner has graciously offered to let me keep it in her pond. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, it is...just...wonderful. Mr. Takagi, you are too generous to my little sister. Thank you so much.”
Mr. Takagi bowed. “It has been my pleasure. I feel so comfortable leaving my precious brood here in her more than capable hands.”
Hannah was flashing a brilliant, guileless smile at Mr. Takagi, and in that moment Shay could not have been prouder—or more relieved. Hannah really did seem to be recovering—getting back on her feet. Shay was happy the inn had been able to play a role in this; to give Hannah a job and help her find some direction in her tipped-on-its-head life.
The inn had done the same for her once and Shay didn’t think she’d ever stop being amazed by the blessings it continually brought into her life and into the lives of others—security, knowledge, friendship—apparently even expensive Japanese fish.
She couldn’t begin to imagine what the future might hold.
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR agreeing to s
ee me, Mr. Cedar, on such short notice. I know you’re probably very busy.”
“No problem at all. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mason. I’m Jonah Cedar, Caleb Cedar’s grandson. Please call me Jonah. Like my grandfather, I’m also an attorney, also licensed to practice in the state of Alaska. I’m helping my grandfather with some of his cases at the present time as he’s currently indisposed.”
Jonah studied the woman in front of him and felt a twinge of curiosity and something else...familiarity? Had they met? He didn’t want to ask because that sounded like such a pick-up line, and he wasn’t interested in her in any romantic way. He was guessing she was around his age and she was pretty—not Shay-pretty, but definitely an attractive woman.
“Right.”
“You’re new to Rankins?”
She smiled and nodded. Circles beneath reddish-tinged eyes and a tightness around her mouth suggested she was also tired. Jonah felt a twinge of pity. He was worn out, too, and he’d only been in town for a little over a week.
“Well, welcome. I’m not a permanent resident, but also like my grandfather, I graduated from Yale Law. Now I work for a firm in Chicago—or normally I do. I’m on a leave of absence right now because of my grandfather’s health, but here’s the name of my firm if you want to check me out.” He handed her a card. “Or you can call your attorney and have him check me out. I should be capable of helping you in whatever legal matter you are here to consult my grandfather about.”
“I was hoping to meet with Caleb Cedar because he’s familiar with the...um, my family here in Rankins.”
Jonah smiled reassuringly. “I see. Don’t worry, my grandfather is available for consultation if necessary. He can bring me up to speed on anything I need to know.”
She stared at him and Jonah had the feeling she was assessing him, trying to decide what to do.
He waited in silence.
She finally nodded. “That sounds fine.”
“Okay then, Adele, what can I do for you today?”
“I’m not sure where to begin. My attorney in Utah sent a letter to your grandfather, but I don’t know if you’ve seen it.”
Jonah didn’t recall seeing a file with her name on it, then he remembered the envelope that Ralph had delivered the day he’d met with Gary and Ingrid.