Haley sighed. “No need to cut anything short.”
I watched her breathing slow. How tired do you have to be to fall asleep midsentence? “You got it,” I whispered, draping a blanket over the two of them.
Evan and I walked over to Neil Armstrong Park. It was far enough that normally I probably would have driven, but I figured the walk would eat up extra time. Sprocket was more than happy to get a little more exercise and Evan seemed very happy to alternate between buzzing like an airplane and jumping from sidewalk square to sidewalk square in a pattern that I couldn’t quite discern. He took off at a run when the swing set came within view.
I caught up with him and pushed him on the swings for a while. Then he was ready to take on the roller slide. I started to climb up after him, but Sprocket whined. “It’s okay, boy. It’s just a slide.”
He barked and whined some more.
“Fine. I’ll come back down. Fraidy-cat.” Sprocket and I walked over to one of the benches and sat down. The cold started to seep up through my jeans almost instantly.
A minivan pulled up in the parking lot. The side door slid open and three little blond girls came tumbling out. Sheri came around the front of the van. “Go ahead, girls. Enjoy the sunshine. I’ll be right there.” She gestured to the bench where I was sitting.
“I thought we had to go to the grocery store,” the tallest of the three said, huddling by the van while her two younger sisters made wild dashes for the monkey bars.
“We do. Let’s get a little exercise first. The groceries will still be there when we’re done.” Sheri smiled an extra bright smile at her daughter.
The girl gave her mother a funny look, but then apparently decided to not look gift horses in the mouth and claimed the middle swing and started pumping her legs like she meant to kick the sky.
“Hi, Rebecca. What are you doing at the playground?” Sheri asked, settling down next to me.
“Getting Evan out of Haley’s hair for the afternoon so she can get some sleep. Emily is not great about the whole sleeping-through-the-night thing.” I leaned forward to keep Evan in view as he chased around the slide.
Sheri sighed. “I remember those days. Ada didn’t sleep through the night until she was three. I don’t actually remember large portions of her babyhood.”
I laughed. “I can only imagine.”
“So what are you doing to keep yourself busy while your shop is under repair?” she asked.
“Worrying. It takes a surprising amount of time.” At least, it seemed to at around two o’clock in the morning.
“I hear that.” She glanced over at the playground. “Brigitte, don’t twist the swing up like that! You’ll kick Cecilia.”
“Three is a lot to juggle,” I said. Two were kicking Haley’s butt at the moment and Haley was pretty together.
Sheri shrugged. “You get used to it, then you don’t know how you ever did anything without them.”
I snorted. “You did it when you wanted to, how you wanted to and why you wanted to. That’s how.”
She laughed. “I suppose so.”
We sat in silence while we watched the kids play. Ada had engaged Evan in a game of what might have been tag and might have been just chasing each other around in arabesques and figure eights while avoiding being kicked by Brigitte on the swing.
“Did you make any headway in figuring out who wrote the diary you found?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I’m working my way backward, trying to find out who owned the house in the 1950s.”
“How are you going to do that?” Sheri asked.
“Marta Hansen owned my shop before Allen did. I figured I might stop over at the nursing home in the next few days and talk with her. Maybe she’ll remember something.” It seemed like the best way to start.
“She’ll remember something. How accurate it might be is another question,” Sheri said. “I was surprised how inaccurate people’s memories were when I was trying to find information about Grandpa Edwin. They’ll think they’re one hundred percent right and not even be close.”
“Really? That’s too bad. I’m not sure where else to find out information about the place.” Evan threw himself into the sandbox. I braced for a scream, but he came up giggling.
“When was your place built?” Sheri asked.
It took me a second to clue back into what she was talking about. “In the twenties.”
She nodded. “Our place, too. My grandfather bought it in the late 1940s and it’s been in the family since.”
I smiled. I lived in my family home, too. Sort of. Over the garage counted as in, didn’t it? “Did you get your popcorn yet?” I asked.
“My what?” Sheri asked.
“Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Allen had me make some special popcorn batches for the city council candidates. I dropped them at the office this morning. Otis was going to messenger them out.”
“For all the candidates?” Sheri smiled. “That’s so sweet.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Interesting. I’ll look forward to it.” She pulled some packets out of her purse. “Girls, do you want a snack?”
All three came barreling toward us with Evan in hot pursuit. “Do I have snack, Auntie Becca?” he asked.
Oops. “How about we go get a snack? We can go downtown.”
“I want to snack here.” His pudgy little face started to crease up.
“Here. You can have some of mine.” Ada held out a package of crackers. “I like to share.”
I looked over at Sheri. “How did you train her to be like that? Most six-year-olds I know would rather watch someone burst into flames than share their cinnamon bunny crackers.”
Sheri dropped a kiss on her daughter’s head. “Lucky. It’s pretty much who she was since she was born.”
“Lucky is right.”
“They really are who they are right from the moment they’re born, you know. You can nudge them in one direction or another. You can make sure they have the veneer of civilization on them. You really can’t do much else.” She brushed Ada’s hair back behind her ears.
“Then you must come from excellent stock.” I pulled a tissue out of my pocket to wipe off Evan’s face. At least I knew to bring those along. I added snack to my mental list of good things that aunties had in their pockets on a playdate, though.
“I like to think so,” Sheri said. She glanced at her watch. “It is definitely time for the grocery store, though! Come on, girls. Back to the van!”
Evan watched them go, a sad look on his face. “It was nice to have those girls to play with, wasn’t it?” I said.
He nodded, then turned to hug my legs. “You’re nice, too, Auntie Becca.”
I felt warm all the way down to my toes.
• • •
After the park, we walked over to the shop. Carson helped Evan hammer a nail into a board and pronounced him his top assistant. Evan’s eyes went wide and I swear he got a little taller.
“Did you hear anything about the cabinets?” I asked.
Carson shook his head. “Called the guy this morning. I’m guessing it’s not good news since he hasn’t called me back.”
My heart sank. “How stuck are we?”
“Pretty stuck.” Carson didn’t look nearly as depressed as those words made me feel.
The idea was too depressing to contemplate, so Evan and I walked over to Garrett’s office to pay him a visit.
“Who’s this?” Pearl asked as we walked in. Pearl was Garrett’s secretary. He hadn’t actually ever hired her. She’d simply walked in one day and taken over. I couldn’t decide if he felt too lucky or too frightened to complain. She was formidable in a lot of ways.
“I’m Evan, Pearl,” Evan replied, hands fisted on his hips. “I’m me.”
“No. You couldn’t possibly be E
van. Evan’s a little tiny boy. You’re great big.” Pearl shook her head. “No. Can’t be Evan.”
“I am! I am Evan! I grew!” He pulled himself up to his full three feet and four inches.
She peered at him as if really examining him. “Oh, so you are. You’re definitely Evan. How are you today?”
“I’m having a playdate with Auntie Becca so Mommy and Emily can finally get some sleep.”
My eyebrows went up. I hadn’t known how much of all that he’d been listening to and absorbing. I was going to have to be careful what I said around my nephew or it was going to get repeated back verbatim.
“Then we met three girls in the park and we played tag,” he said.
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Then we went to Auntie Becca’s shop and I helped builded it.”
Pearl looked up at me.
“He was hammering nails with Carson. I’d say it counts as buildeding it.” I’d take all the help I could get at this point.
Garrett came out of his office. “You’re a builder now?” he asked Evan.
Evan nodded. “I’m a natral.”
“I’m not surprised. Your mom’s pretty handy, too,” Garrett said. It was true. Haley was amazing with DIY. She kept the house from falling apart around everyone’s ears in a million different ways. He looked over at me now. “Having a good day?”
“Totally. Delivered the city council gifts and had a hot date.” I smiled over at Evan.
Garrett smiled, too. “Want another one tonight?”
Heat flooded my face and I know my smile matched his. “You mean, when we have dinner with my sister and brother-in-law? That kind of hot date?”
“I’ll take what I can get,” he said.
“Get a room, you two,” Pearl said and made a shooing gesture with her hands.
“I’ll walk you out,” Garrett said.
We walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight. The air felt chilly after the overheated office and I knelt down to zip up Evan’s jacket for him. I looked up to find Garrett watching us with a funny look on his face. “What?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
I stood up and gave him a kiss, one that lingered a few seconds longer than our usual public displays of affection. “There. That should give you something to think about for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Don’t you know it,” he said.
Four
I woke up Saturday morning stiff and cramped. My first night in jail hadn’t been much fun. The mattress was thin and the blanket was scratchy. Thank goodness I had Sprocket to keep me warm. I wasn’t sure how Cathy was handling it at all.
Actually, I was sure. Sometime in the dark hours after Vera came in and told us it was time for lights-out and before our breakfasts (such as they were) arrived, I heard her crying. The sound was so small, so tiny, that I hadn’t been sure what it was at first. It was like a squeak. Then I realized it was her whimper.
I’d pulled Sprocket closer to me and buried my face in his fur and squeezed my eyes shut tight to keep my own tears from leaking out.
Now, post powdered eggs and white-bread toast, the door to our cell block creaked open. Cathy and I both looked up. I cannot stress enough how boring it is to be locked in a cell. The door opening and closing was like hearing the theme music to a much-anticipated television show. Entertainment would be forthcoming.
We weren’t disappointed. Vera walked through. Haley marched in behind her with Emily and Evan.
“Hey, sis.” I bounced off my bunk over to the bars and crouched down. “Hi, Evan. What’s up?”
Evan stared at me and the bars and the ceiling and then back at me. “Why are you in a zoo, Auntie Bec?”
“It’s a very good question, Evan. I think you should ask your daddy. He’s the one who put me in here.” I was not above fighting dirty. If I had to enlist every toddler in town in my case, so be it.
Haley made a noise in her throat. I looked up at her. “What? Tell me I’m wrong about that one. Go ahead. Try it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to get between you and Dan on this one, Rebecca. It’s a lose-lose situation for me.”
I stood up. “So what brings you here? Doing a little scared-straight moment for my nephew?”
“No.” She pressed her lips together hard like she did when she was annoyed. “You were supposed to babysit today. It’s Evan’s day to go to gymnastics.”
I gestured around the cell. “Sorry, sis. I’m kind of tied up at the moment.”
She took another step toward the bars. “Are you, though?”
“What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure I liked the glint in her eye. I didn’t see it very often these days. It had been a staple of my teenage years, but I earned it less in my thirties than I had at seventeen.
“I mean, it’s not like Emily needs space to run around. She only started rolling over this morning.” Haley gestured to the baby carrier.
“She rolled over?” Damn it. I’d missed her rolling over. I’d missed Evan rolling over, too, and that had been my fault. I’d been too caught up in life with Antoine to be there for all the special and wonderful milestones. But now I was here. I’d made the choice to be present and I’d still missed it. Dan was so going to get it.
“Yes. She rolled over once. She’s not going far. You could totally still watch her,” Haley said.
I gestured at the cell. “From here?”
“Why not?” Her chin went up like she was expecting to take one on it.
I was not in any state to be throwing punches. “I dunno. Because I can’t imagine that isn’t breaking the rules somehow.”
“Rules are meant to be broken.”
My jaw dropped. That was not something I ever thought I’d hear Haley say. If you could divide the world into rule-followers and rule-breakers, our house would have been a mixed household. I had been squarely in the breaking camp until I’d learned the advantages of following the rules while baking. When had Haley learned not to follow them?
“I’ve got everything you need here.” She lifted up her diaper bag. “Bottle, bottle warmer, diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, some rice cereal already mixed up.”
I looked over at Vera. She shrugged. “It’s fine with me.”
Vera gestured me over to the bars. I stuck my wrists through and she handcuffed me.
“Is that totally necessary?” Haley asked.
“All prisoners must be handcuffed when their cell doors are open. I’ll uncuff her once we get the baby in there.” Vera waited for me to withdraw my hands and step back and then unlocked the cell door.
Haley walked in with Emily in her carrier and the diaper bag, set it all down, and then kissed Emily on the head. “Be good for Auntie Rebecca, okay?”
Evan leaned down and kissed Emily on the head, too. “Bye, baby. Have fun at the zoo!”
Then they were gone. Vera shut the cell door, uncuffed me, and left right after them.
“Your family is crazy,” Cathy said. “Certifiably loony tune, whackadoodle, off-their-rockers crazy.”
It was a hard point to argue.
• • •
I’d felt like I was the crazy one when Dan had called me into his office saying he had something he wanted to talk to me about. I’d thought he wanted to plan Haley’s birthday celebration. I’d brought a sample menu of what I thought we should serve.
“Remember that guy I told you about? Lloyd McLaughlin?” he asked.
“Who?” The name didn’t mean anything to me.
“The guy who was poisoned?” he prompted.
“Oh, yeah! The one who ruined your dinner the other night.” I remembered now. He had told us about it at dinner.
“You’ll never guess what he was poisoned with.” Dan leaned back in his chair, watching my face intently.
“Oka
y. If I’ll never guess it, how about you just tell me?” It seemed like a reasonable response.
“Your popcorn,” Dan said flatly.
“What do you mean Lloyd McLaughlin was poisoned with my popcorn?” I’d demanded, leaning over Dan’s desk.
“I mean that the medical examiner identified a container of Bacon Pecan Popcorn as the source of the pesticide that killed Lloyd,” he’d replied. He didn’t sound happy. “Know anyone else in town making Bacon Pecan Popcorn?”
I shook my head.
“I thought not.” His jaw clenched.
“How did he get any of my popcorn?” I had no idea who this guy was. Even after Dan had showed me his photo, I hadn’t recognized him as one of my customers. I hadn’t recognized him as anything at all. Granted, he was kind of a generic white guy with brown hair, but still!
Dan ran his hand over his face. “I’m assuming he got it the way everyone else in town got it. He bought it. You do have a shop, you know.”
He was right. It had been one of my bestsellers for the few days I’d been able to make it and sell it. It might have even been a better seller than the pumpkin-spice popcorn bars had been back in October. On the other hand, no one could have bought popcorn from my shop since October. “So it was old popcorn? The shop hasn’t been open since the fire.”
“I have no way of gauging the freshness of the popcorn, Rebecca. It was poisonous. I’m not going to taste it to see if it’s stale,” he said.
“Fine. He bought popcorn from me before the fire and someone poisoned it.” I sat down. Sprocket rested his chin on my knee and I scratched him behind his ears. The only other batches I’d made of that popcorn since the shop closed had gone to the city council candidates. I’d seen all of them and this guy wasn’t one of them.
Dan shook his head. “Are you listening to yourself, Rebecca?”
I sat back in my chair. I didn’t always think before I spoke. Actually, I rarely thought before I spoke. Words seemed to tumble from my lips of their own accord. It wasn’t a great way to communicate. I was working on it. I pressed my lips together to keep any other words from escaping unbidden and went over what he’d said and what I’d said. I still didn’t see anything wrong with it. “What? What did I say?”
Assault and Buttery Page 6