by R. T. Wolfe
Nathan whispered close to her face, "Just a kiss my ass."
When she tried to speak, he put his fingers to her lips.
"You're right. I don't know you... well... but I plan to. The parts I've picked up so far tell me you work with animals using unnatural patience. You took a lot of extra trouble to get this house rebuilt as it would have looked when your parents lived in it.
"Yet, you don't want to spend time here. You spend more time outside in the cold than most people do in the summer. You've not made it your home. You invite a hundred people here but only pretend to enjoy it. You love your family completely, and your job is the only thing that makes you truly smile."
Her eyes remained on his, and she didn't speak when he moved his fingers from her lips.
"But I want to know you. Tell me about the tires."
She looked at him in silence for a long time. He pegged her in ways that should have made her uncomfortable and normally would have made her push away. Instead, she just laid her forehead on his shoulder and answered, "I don't know."
He slid an arm around her waist while picking up the phone and dialing his mother. "It's me. I'll be longer than I thought. Yes, I'll be back in time to go through all that. I owe you—again."
"Come." He eased her down from the counter. "Let's get something to eat. You have nothing. I checked."
"I can't be seen with you, Nathan. You shouldn't even be here. My boss got after me today. Unprofessional this and that. She'll be watching written all over her face. We don't get along."
"Okay. Pizza delivery." He picked up the phone again.
Brie let out a heavy sigh. "I'll go change."
* * *
She came down wearing faded jeans and a sweatshirt. Her feet were bare, Nathan noted, but she left her hair up.
"Tea?" she asked as she walked through the kitchen.
"That'll work." He sat at her kitchen table with Macey at his feet. Scratching the dog's head, he began with a question. "You have no idea who would have done this?"
"No, not no idea." She pulled down a pot for water and an extra mug. "There may be some disgruntled parents. I'm not sure."
"Would some kid's dad get so mad he would break into your house and go crazy on your truck?"
He walked to her and reached for the teapot. "I'll get it."
"Already done," she said as she filled it with water. "Parents can go off the deep end. There's one that makes sure to give me an earful about retaining his gifted child. There's another that lost custody due to abuse I reported. Who reported him should be confidential, but it's not unheard of for that information to be leaked. I'm not so sure it isn't just ornery kids and I'm not just letting my mind wander." She handed him a full mug and tea bag.
"You've put thought into this." He sat back down and leaned back in the chair.
Taking a sip, he watched her face.
She nodded.
"This isn't the first time," he said as a statement.
"No. It's not. I mean it is for the tires, but there are other things. They're probably—"
"What other things?" he interrupted as he pushed the mug aside and put his hands on his legs under the table, gripping his thighs.
"Animals. Broken windows." She didn't move her head, but turned her eyes to his.
It took some effort to keep his temper from showing on his face. "I'm listening."
"My windows at work have been shot out with a rifle. Well, the first time a rifle and the second a rifle and rocks." She paused. "Some animals have been... I don't know... killed. And left strung from my deck. On my porch. Over my deck rail. I realize this sounds crazy, and I'm not saying it's all connected. Most of it's probably kids and—"
Nathan pushed away from the table and walked to her family room, running his fingers through his hair. She's lived here alone, he thought. Dealing with this alone.
"Listen, I'm all right. It mostly just makes me annoyed and angry."
"Whoever did that number on your tires isn't trying to annoy you. They're trying to scare you."
"I'm not scared."
"I called a friend. He's a cop."
"You're a pushy man, Reed. I don't need your help."
"I don't need your permission to ask around. You should know I'm not above doing that. I know a guy who can get you new tires—"
"I'm going to let you talk to your cop friend, because I can't stop you. I guess I'd really like to know if he thinks any of this is connected, but you're not fixing my car. I can take care of it myself. I can take care of me. I won't like it if you crowd me."
* * *
Nathan sat with Dave at his card table in folding chairs drinking dark beer from glass bottles. Goldie snored at his feet.
"I requested the case to my captain if Brie ever decides to move forward with any kind of investigation. I'm not up for detective for a few months yet, but my captain thinks this would be a way to get my feet wet. I've pored over the files."
"Anything linking then to now?"
"What makes you think this could possibly be linked to an arson that happened six years ago?"
"You think she just happened to be victim of an arson that ended in the death of both of her parents and then just happens to have another nutcase leaving her mutilated animals, shot out windows and slashed tires?"
"Okay, okay. But what doesn't make sense is why someone would wait six years in between." Dave sat back, took a drink of his beer and flipped through his notes. "Confirmed arson. One witness. Called in by the next-door neighbor at eleven forty-two. A Lucy Melbourne. Says she made the call because of the noise from the explosion, before looking out her window. Some kind of backdraft was set in what was, at that time, Brie's bedroom. The file suggests that whoever set it knew what they were doing."
"Backdraft?"
"Set especially so it can't spread at first. Uses all the oxygen from the room. When the fire gets a new dose of air, such as opening a door... boom. The parents were the ones that opened the door. Died instantly. Brie was blown back from the kick. Hit her head. Knocked her out. Treated for head injury and smoke inhalation.
"It said in her formal statement she saw two people walking as she pulled up in a cab but couldn't remember anything about clothing or faces. Not even gender. Both her sister's and her alibis for the evening were confirmed."
Nathan leaned forward. "You suggesting they might have blown up their own parents?"
"Just saying what I read. They were seen that night by several bar patrons. Bartender remembered them, too. A neighbor also said she remembered seeing someone out walking. Not so strange to take a late night walk if you ask me, but both Brie and the neighbor said it was odd for the neighborhood." Dave tossed his empty bottle in the paper grocery sack next to the dog and opened the cooler for another. "Have you talked to her since the tires?"
"Just stuff about Andy. She's touchy about the whole getting-involved-with-parents-of-students thing."
"That is weird. If I had a kid, I wouldn't want his teacher running around with some classmate's dad. Shit, it's still weird to think of you as a dad."
"She supposed to be the Pope? And being a dad's still weird for me, too. I don't know what the hell I'm doing."
"Is that why you came back?"
"Pretty much, yeah. My ex wanted the divorce. Andy's teachers basically told me I was doing a rotten job. The shop was taking all my time." He looked into the paper sack at the growing stack of empty bottles. "They're piling up in there."
"Yeah. I think I'm sleeping on your fucking filthy floor tonight."
"It's not a fucking filthy floor. It's just a fucking unfinished floor and don't talk about fucking. It's been too long for me." He stood up slowly. "You're welcome to my extra mattress, and I have a Spiderman sleeping bag that might fit your right leg."
Chapter 11
Nathan had Duncan pulling orange and white stickers from the new windows and working on installing the screens.
"The windows are all different sizes. There are too many sc
reens. I'm only eight." Ironically, Duncan tried to reason like an adult about his young age, but Nathan wasn't budging.
"Mmm hmm. You are only eight. That's why I'm only giving you this one project for your Saturday." He continued spreading stain on one of the twenty-seven interior doors. "And remember to only put in the screens on the first floor and basement day-lights. Just lean the screens next to the windows upstairs."
He stacked doors on drying racks throughout the garage. They, too, were different sizes but all matched in design, each with three flat panels boasting the straight lines that fit a Mission-style home. The wood, however, differed depending on which room it belonged. The master bedroom, bath and closet doors were made of quarter-sawn oak, the boys' rooms in distressed oak and the rest in riff-sawn.
Andy's chores stayed in the garage where Nathan could keep an eye on him. The younger boy's job was to replace router and drill bits to their proper spots. Since it was much like completing a puzzle, it was just the right task for him.
He knew the house didn't look like much had been done, but he'd checked off plenty from his list over the weeks. Besides the new windows, the electrician had finished. The plumbing was ready for sinks and fixtures. He'd changed his mind and decided on a shower that had both high and low spigots for all three upstairs bathrooms. The plumber wasn't too happy about the change and took his time making the extra return trip. Nathan didn't mind. He wouldn't have the new sinks picked out for some time anyway.
He'd given Brie time to think and the space she'd asked for. He'd never had time for clingy women. Following her suggestions, he worked with Andy each night, reading the books she sent home, doing the worksheets, flashing the flashcards and all that. As he and Andy worked on his assignments, Duncan worked with pencil and water colors on the view of the lake and Black Creek. The scene was becoming a nightly routine, and it felt right.
For the first time, he was beginning to feel like a real parent. The studio wasn't calling. He wasn't working late. The letters requesting work piled up, but he could ignore those easily enough.
His folks helped and had already convinced him into a few day trips with the boys, one hiking around the Finger Lakes and another ice skating in downtown Northridge. The boys seemed to get into the cold as much as his hard-shelled neighbor. He saw her almost daily and let his dog out to play with hers when the two of them came around to her backyard.
He stopped what he was doing to watch out one of the windows in the back of his garage. There she was, working with Goldie. His dog trotted across the log without her coaxing him now. She plopped his butt down and put a hand in front of him like a stop sign, then walked away. The mutt sat watching her. Brie patted her leg and he ran to her, looking like he was going to knock her over. Instead he slammed on the brakes, then sat his butt down again. Go figure.
Brie always had some kind of treat in her pocket for a reward. He thought that was cheating. He tried to get Goldie to sit and stay for him once, but the dog played dumb. If he didn't hear from her soon, she would have to deal with him breaking the don't-come-to-my-house request.
* * *
Andy learned quickly. Brie was determined to catch him up. Not because of anything that included Nathan, but because it was her job. She learned that he loved to build. There wasn't a lot of that in the first grade, but she made some adjustments to allow for it. The other kids were drawn to him. He was fun and had a likable personality. It was often too cold to go outside for recess. On those days, the students played in the classroom after lunch. The other children liked to give Andy something to build with, sort of a challenge. Cards, blocks, books.
She decided to ask about Duncan and stopped in to see his teacher on her way home. She knocked on the open door. "Elizabeth? Did I catch you at a bad time?" Mrs. Whittier was in her early sixties. Her hair was stark white and her skin well cared for. Not too many lines for a woman her age. She generally wore dresses with large floral prints and laced shoes with large heels.
"No, no, Brie. Come in. I expected you long before this."
Honestly confused, she asked, "Did I forget something we were to do?"
"No. I expected you to check on the Reed boy before now. Aren't you still seeing his uncle?"
The Reed boy? Brie thought that was cold. "I was never seeing his uncle." She reviewed the night of the New Year's Eve party in her head, trying to remember if Elizabeth had been there. "Who told you that?"
Elizabeth's brows lifted. "I'm not sure really, everyone I suppose. The boy is doing well. He's smart enough, although the children are giving him a go. Sorry about the assumption, by the way."
"Apology accepted as long as you mention that it's not true the next time you hear it. What do you mean 'giving him a go'?"
The third-grade teacher stuffed papers into a bag covered with pictures of cats. "They call him a girl. He does like to doodle on a lot of his notebooks and papers. Mostly trees and people. The teasing doesn't seem to bother him. He's content."
"I see you're on your way out. I'll let you get going. Have a nice night, and thank you."
Brie kept running back the phrase "but he does like to doodle" through her mind, like it was enough of a reason to call him a girl. As if it was his fault the other children were calling him names. Like any child was content with being teased. That woman needed to retire.
As she drove home for the long weekend she thought of stopping by to see Nathan. Not to mention what Mrs. Whittier had said. She had her own ideas about how to handle that. She hadn't seen Nathan since she'd went over to give him the run-down on Andy's test scores and her plans for catching him up. That was a regular home visit, she convinced herself. She made plenty of home visits over the years.
Nathan respected her request not to crowd her. Points for him. She saw plenty of his dog, however. Goldie made almost daily trips over to wrestle with Macey. So much for the child lock on the door. She had to admit she enjoyed working with him. He thrived on learning and not only could successfully maneuver the log whenever he came over but had all but mastered most of the routine commands. She decided on calling instead of stopping by. Safer.
* * *
"You're calling me," Nathan said.
Smiling at his reaction, Brie held the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Yes. Don't you get phone calls, Reed?"
"You're calling me from your house?" he asked as a question this time.
She walked to her freezer and pulled out a bag of coffee beans. "I want to see if your cop friend found out anything."
"You can run miles every morning, make my dog go crazy at the crack of dawn when you go by, but you can't walk over two fields and a creek to ask me?"
"I didn't realize we were making your dog go crazy. I can run a different route. And I didn't know if you'd be home."
"My dog's in your yard right now. I can see him. Don't run a different route."
Still holding the coffee beans, she went to look out her back window. She could see Goldie tugging at a stick with Macey like they were joined at the head. And she could barely make out a figure in the glass doors leading to Nathan's kitchen. She smiled and bit her bottom lip.
"You haven't put the child lock on your door yet." She paused a moment. "Are you staying away from me to respect my wishes or to make me want to see you again?"
"Which answer gets you to go out with me tonight? I'll see if the cop can come along. We'll make it business."
"Either answer works, but I can't tonight. I'm watching my sister's kids."
"Tomorrow then."
She thought a minute. What the hell was she doing? "Okay. I'll bring a friend, too. You know a pub called Mikey's?"
"I know the place. I'll pick you up at eight."
She thought again. "No. I'll meet you there."
"We're both going to drive when you live close enough for me to see you standing in your kitchen?"
"Absolutely."
"Eight o'clock, then."
* * *
"Why don't you have a hill on
your side of the creek?" Liz's daughter asked Brie. She sat back on her little heels on the floor in front of Brie's back window watching Duncan and Andy sled down their hill. Elbows resting on the chilly windowsill, her niece propped her chin in her hands.
Brie walked over to her and sat down, looking out the window with her. They watched Nathan pulled Andy up onto his shoulders, carrying him back up their short hill that was worn from use. Duncan got a running start, then dove head first onto a red sled.
"I guess my ground decided to be flat. Too many trees over here anyway." She mussed her niece's hair and stood up to answer the knock at the door.
Without waiting for an answer, Clifford Piper's granddaughter walked in, closing the door behind her.
"Amanda. I was just getting ready to call you." She hugged her longtime friend. Smiling, she shook her head as she thought of what Nathan had said about people walking into each other's homes in this neighborhood. "Hey, Rose." She squatted down to Amanda's five-year-old daughter and her shocking head of strawberry blonde hair.
"Hi, Bwie." Rose waved her hand once like a windshield wiper.
She looked at Rose face to face. "Where've you and your mom been this time?"
Rose tugged on her mom's shirt sleeve, pulling her head down so that her little mouth could reach her mother's ear.
Amanda answered for her. "The Dominican Republic. That one's a mouthful for her. We helped clean up after Hurricane Emily." She turned to her daughter. "I think I hear Liz's kids in the family room."
Before Amanda had finished, Rose took off through the open space of the foyer back to the family room.
"How long are you in town?"
Amanda tossed her coat over the newel post. "Hopefully 'til at least summer. I'm enrolling Rose in school. They say they want her in the bilingual class at Marsh."
"No kidding? I thought you were doing home schooling and tutors while you're abroad. Marsh is a great school," she added as she picked Rose and Amanda's coats off the post and grabbed hers from the closet.
"That turned out to be harder than I thought. It seems she needs to settle somewhere, for a while anyway. We'll see how it goes. It's really great to see you."