by Susan Schild
In a clean cotton nightgown, Linny sighed deeply, wriggled her toes, and pulled up the chenille bedspread, deciding she was as thrilled to be in her own bed as the people were in the mattress commercials. With Roy snuggled in the crook of her arm and Alexander McCall Smith’s The Sunday Philosophy Club open in her lap, Linny finished the delicious sandwich. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open but wanted to try to stay awake to say hello to Jack. A soft knock sounded at the door and she felt a flutter of happiness as a beaming Jack poked his head in. “Hey, there,” she said softly and patted the bed beside her.
“Hey, you,” he said as he slipped onto the bed and kissed her thoroughly. “Glad to have you home, peanut butter girl.”
She grinned. “You can still taste it? I was too tired to even brush my teeth.”
“I think it’s peanut butter, but I need to double-check.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her again. He picked up her left hand and examined it. “I’m sorry about the rings, sugar.”
She blew out a sigh. “I worked hard on that spiritual talk, but I really miss them.”
Jack took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Maybe Neal and I can go back to the gem mines, find new emeralds, and get them remade.” He raised a brow at her. “Or maybe we can do something wild like go to the jewelry store and buy you new ones.”
“No,” Linny said and touched the empty spot on her finger with her thumb and remembering how hard a time she’d had accepting the rings from him in the first place, thanks to her late, untrustworthy husband. “Maybe the girls will find them,” she said, glancing at him for reassurance.
“Maybe,” he said neutrally.
“How’s Neal?” Linny asked. “I’ll get up to say hello to him.”
“No need, Lin.” He frowned, looking weary. “He’s been in a bad mood all day. Just now he was snappy with Mama and I sent him to his room.”
“Maybe he’s overtired from the trip.” With her finger, Linny smoothed the crease between his brows.
Jack shook his head, looking discouraged. “We had a great time in Arizona, but as soon as we got back home, he got moody again.”
“He probably missed his mama, and Chaz,” Linny said mildly. “Anything new on that front?”
“Let’s see. Chaz moved back home with Vera again. They had a happy day or two, but now they’re fighting again.” He raised his eyes heavenward. “I’ll get my daily blow-by-blow later when Vera calls.”
Daily? Linny pulled herself up and leaned on her elbow, staring at him. “Don’t you think your ex-wife calling you every day is odd? What do you talk about—gas prices, the stock market?”
He put a steadying hand on her arm and said quietly, “We talk about Neal.”
But Linny wasn’t having it. “Jack, it’s too much. You have got to set clearer boundaries with her.” With a gusty exhale, she flopped back down on her pillow. Her heart ached for Neal. At twelve he had already been through one divorce and was probably imagining another looming on the horizon, just as he’d gotten attached to his stepfather. But a small flicker of anger in her stomach began to burn hotter. “Does Vera know the harm she’s causing Neal by exposing him to their fighting?”
Jack shook his head, looking disgusted. “I’ve talked to her about it and she talks about how hard things are for her.”
Because it’s always all about Vera, Linny thought, trying to unclench her teeth.
“She says things are improving, but until things settle down Neal’s staying here,” Jack said firmly.
“I agree.” But Linny’s indignation was replaced by a sinking feeling. She pictured herself stooped and gray-haired, stirring a pot of pinto beans as a balding Neal skulked through the kitchen in his sweat suit, sucking down a soft drink, and grunting a greeting. It could happen.
He brushed her forehead with a kiss. “Let me help Mama finish cleaning up and see her out. I’ll be back in just a few minutes. I’ve missed you, darlin’ girl,” Jack said.
“Missed you, too.” She shivered deliciously at the thought of being close to him again.
* * *
Monday afternoon Linny dropped Neal off at Jack’s office and headed over to Green Sage for her meetings to get employee input about issues Chanel identified as being problematic. Linny would do six half-hour interviews today and the rest over the next two weeks.
In the waiting room she glanced down at her black creased trousers, shiny black Oxfords, and geometric-print, possibly hip jacket. She hoped her outfit made her look relatable. Swarms of butterflies revved in her stomach. It was one thing to win the work and yet another to make good on her promise to help Chanel Green improve her company.
Glancing at her iPad, she took one last look at the proposal she’d sent the young business owner after their first meeting. She’d interview twenty-five employees and a few clients, give Chanel the results, and coach the woman on how to set the tone for the changes she wanted her employees to make. Then Linny would customize a training program to hit the problem areas hard. This approach had worked well for her in the past, she reminded herself, and took a few surreptitious deep breaths and glanced at her screen. The meeting was to start at two o’clock and it was ten after.
Chanel burst into the waiting room, red-faced and panting slightly. Wearing neon running shoes, short shorts, and a jogging bra, she smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I was running and time got away from me.”
Your shirt got away from you, too, Linny thought. Was Chanel planning on staying dressed like that all day? Trying to keep her expression bland, Linny stuck out her hand. “Hey, Chanel.”
“You don’t want to shake my hand. I’m sweaty,” Chanel said with a rueful laugh and wiped her brow with her arm. “You know where my office is. Let me catch a quick shower and I’ll be right in.” She gave her a parting grin. “Give Sage a scratch for me. He’s in his usual spot.”
Linny winced inwardly as Chanel walked right through the employee area in her skimpy outfit on her way to the locker room. Linny expected employees’ heads to swivel as she walked by but none did. Maybe all the young employees ran and wore clothing like that and she was just being a prude. In Chanel’s office she leaned down and gave the snoozing dog a scratch.
A young man with a bun walked by the glass wall close enough for Linny to see that the slogan on his shirt read Drunk Girls Think I’m Hot. Chanel needed a no-statement T-shirt policy. Another place to make changes. Trying to peer outside to check out other employees’ attires without looking like a peeper, she groaned quietly. A young woman on the phone wore furry pink bedroom slippers, a skirt, and a sheer blouse with a black bra visible beneath it. Had these people never heard of professional work attire?
Chanel bounced into the room, finger combing her short, still damp hair. Wearing a pale blue linen shift, an oatmeal-colored cardigan, and sandals, she, at least, now looked appropriate. “So, let the games begin,” she said, picking up a paper on her desk and handing it to Linny. “We’ve got you set up in a quiet private conference room. Here’s the list of folks you’re going to talk with this afternoon and those scheduled over the next two weeks. Any questions?”
Linny paused, deciding to save the talk about unprofessional attire for after she’d done the interviews. She had a feeling she was going to hear some doozy stories today. “No, all set.”
In the conference room Rachel said she loved her job and loved her customers, but she’d had a brief thing with Raj and now they didn’t speak. Her women friends at work thought he was a love rat and froze him, too. Linny wrote down love rat and froze him. This sounded like a reality show where young people lived in the same house and fought. How did you work with a teammate and not talk to him?
Vaya was the fellow with the Afro beard and was cooperative but noted, “The men and the chicks are like oil and water.” As they talked, Linny made tiny hash marks every time he used the word chicks to describe his female co-workers. Six marks in thirty minutes.
Jax said employees joked around a lot, but that it was
all in good fun. The female co-worker he sat beside kept wearing a ball cap that said I’m with Stupid and an arrow that pointed at him, so he’d bought the same hat with the arrow pointing the other way, toward her. Wow. That T-shirt policy needed to be expanded to include all articles of clothing.
Linny tilted her head. “Do customers ever come here to meet with you all?”
“Sure,” he’d said, popping a Jolly Rancher candy in his mouth. “All the time.”
Jarrett scratched his head and smiled vaguely, saying he thought the company culture was on fleek, which Linny guessed from his tone meant something good. He’d heard of a company that bought hammocks for employees to use in their cubicles and asked her to run that suggestion up the flagpole. Linny wrote down hammock and flagpole.
Tiny, quiet Ava said, “Everyone treats customers too casually. Raj calls the men bro.” She wrinkled her nose. “And we’re slack about calling people back right away. You can’t wait a day or two to get back to already frustrated clients.”
As Linny drove home, her brain raced. All of the employees she’d spoken with today had given her similar stories. She shook her head, chagrined. If the rest of her interviews went anything like today’s, her follow-up meeting with Chanel Green was going to be a humdinger.
Back home Linny shucked her work clothes, threw on shorts and a T-shirt, and shot a glance at the clock on the stove, feeling harried. She’d gone flat-out all day. Blowing out a sigh, she scrabbled in the freezer. Pulling out the family-sized package of frozen chicken piccata, she tossed it into the microwave. These days she was getting help from the frozen foods aisle at Trader Joe’s, but at least they hadn’t resorted to a lot of takeout. On the Bodacious Bonus Moms’ site, Angie from Atlanta suggested newly blended families eat supper together every night and take turns sharing about your days. She had a feeling the sharing would bomb, but she’d give it a whirl.
Filling a saucepan with a few inches of water, she clattered it onto a burner on the stove. Turning the heat up high, she tossed in the frozen vegetables. Roy sat in a safe spot in the corner and gazed at her unblinkingly as she scurried around the kitchen.
The dogs barked and Linny heard the doors to the truck thunk shut. Jack and Neal walked in. “Hey, men,” she called. “How was work?”
“Awful. All I do is clean poop out of dog and cat cages,” Neal said, his face mutinous. He stomped toward his room and slammed the door.
“That’s all he did all afternoon?” Linny arched a brow. “You didn’t let him do surgery?”
“I’m unreasonable.” Jack broke into a smile and gave her a quick hug.
“Rough day?” Linny asked.
He grimaced as he stood at the counter and sorted through the mail. “He was only with me at the office about an hour. His mom came by and took him to lunch and a movie and dropped him back off. He liked that. But he came back in a bad mood.”
“He misses her and he’s probably mad at us for keeping him from her.” Linny thought about it as she placed flatware on napkins. “He’s been with us over two weeks, and besides your Tucson trip, we’ve both had to fit him in around our work schedules. He hasn’t seen much of his friends and he misses home. I’d be cranky, too.”
The muscle in Jack’s jaw worked. “I know. This can’t have been a great summer for him and school’s going to be starting soon.”
Linny felt a stab of guilt. Bad stepmother. “He needs meaningful activity, he needs his friends, and he needs more of our undivided attention.” She made a decision. Wondering just how she was going to make it work, Linny said, “I’m going to clear my schedule tomorrow. If I can just get a little work done, he and I can spend the rest of the day doing something fun.”
Jack nodded and gave her a grateful look. “Maybe we can get one or two of his buddies over to the house one weekend soon. The boys could ride the horses, maybe cook out.”
“Great idea,” Linny said and turned down the heat on the vegetables. “We’ve just been patching things together, but we need to make things more normal for him around here.”
Jack gave a crooked grin. “How did you get so smart and how did I get so lucky?”
* * *
The next day Linny made good on her vow. The exhibit Neal had picked—Is There Life on Other Planets? Star Trek, NASA, and Aliens—had been a big hit. Linny smiled as she drove them home from the science museum.
Beside her, Neal looked positively sunny and chatted to her about a man in the Netherlands who had found a rare stamp and an astrological event that was coming up. He’d been pleasant all day long.
“Do you know why the moon is going broke?” Neal asked.
“No, tell me,” Linny said, hiding a smile.
“It’s down to its last quarter.” He snorted with laughter.
She grinned. Bad science jokes were anew development, and she liked seeing him being silly.
Emboldened, Neal went on. “What does a subatomic duck say?”
“I don’t know.” Linny grinned, cocking her brow expectantly.
“Quark.” He smacked his thigh, laughing hard.
She hadn’t really gotten the joke, but she laughed anyway, enjoying him. Moments like these reminded her of what a bright sweetheart of a guy Neal was, despite their ups and downs.
As they drew closer to the farm, Linny knew she needed to talk with him about what she guessed he was feeling. “Can we talk for a minute, bud?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Okay,” he said warily.
She paused a beat. “You must miss your mama and Chaz, and I’m sure it’s tough to be away from your home and your friends.”
He nodded wordlessly and stared hard out the window.
“It might take a week or two, but your dad and I are going to figure out better schedules and find more fun things for you to do while you’re here. We’ll help you see your friends more.”
Neal gave another nod, this one more vigorous.
“You’ve had a lot of changes lately, including your dad getting married again and you having to share him.” Linny gave him a sideways glance. “How are you doing with that?”
“Okay,” he said and shot her a quick glance. “Better.”
“Good,” Linny said, trying to sound matter-of-fact when inside she was cheering. “Even with me here, he’s got plenty of love to go around.”
He nodded, picked up his phone, and began to play a game.
Linny hid her smile. Progress.
* * *
That evening Linny examined the trip itinerary Dessie had printed for their families. Her mama and friends had been in Branson for three days and were heading out in the morning. She picked up the phone and FaceTimed Mama. “Hey there,” she called as Dottie answered.
Mama and her friends crowded around the screen waving, their faces wreathed in smiles.
“Hey, honey bunch,” her mother boomed out, still convinced that video over the airwaves meant she needed to talk loud.
“Inside voice,” Ruby said softly, and Mama nodded.
“How was Branson?” Linny asked, resting her chin in her hand.
“Fabulous! The shows were just great. Such talented performers,” Ruby enthused.
Dessie leaned her face in close to the screen, looking pensive. “Will you look at my eyebrows? These two are trying to beautify me, but I think they used too dark a pencil.”
Dessie’s eyebrows looked like two black pipe cleaners. Linny tried not to look startled and cleared her throat. “They’re more . . . expressive. Might be a titch too dark?”
“I knew it.” Dessie shot an I-told-you-so look at Dottie and Ruby and wiped at her brows with a piece of Kleenex.
“I FaceTimed Curtis over at Kate’s house. That dog knew to look right in the middle of the screen,” Mama said admiringly. “Kate said he was getting along fine with her dogs and that he’d learned to shake hands.” She gave the modest but proud look worn by parents of prodigies.
Linny suppressed a grin. “Did you also get a chance to
talk to your grandbaby?”
“Of course,” her mother said with a sniff. “She’s as precious as a lamb.”
“We had to remind her. She got so wound up talking sugar to Curtis that she almost forgot to ask about her grandbaby,” Dessie said with a grin.
“I miss that dog so much,” Mama said. “Your sister looked tired. She’s not working herself to the bone with that new baby, is she?”
“She’s fine,” Linny said, hedging, and felt a pang of guilt about not following through on her offer to babysit Ivy. She’d call soon. Linny looked at Ruby. “How’s the manhunt going?”
“She’s a husband-interviewing machine,” Dessie said proudly. “She’s had seven or eight fellows pursuing her hot and heavy online. We threw back a few . . .”
Ruby jumped in. “. . . like the one who asked snoopy questions about how much money I had in my retirement account, and the one who had five of his grown kids living with him.” She shivered dramatically. “But I met a retired admiral and he’s real distinguished-looking.”
“Don’t forget that military pension,” Dottie added helpfully.
Ruby nodded. “And I’m meeting a man from the Single RVers for coffee when we get to Mount Rushmore. He’s a younger fellow who teaches high school math and he’s a cutie patootie.”
“We forgot the main news. We might have a lead in the missing ring and kitty caper,” Dessie announced, a decidedly Joe Friday–like cadence to her voice.
Linny felt her heart tick up a beat and leaned forward. “Tell me.”
“Remember Mack got us all on new phones so we could FaceTime?” Dessie asked.
Linny nodded. Her mother’s beau/friend/acquaintance kept up with new technology and had gotten all of them on board with devices that would work best while traveling.
“The phone takes such good pictures that I went snap crazy for a few days,” Dessie said.
Linny groaned. “You deleted those morning shots of me in my sleep mask, right?”
“Right,” Dessie said evasively. “The day we got burgled, I took tons of pictures. Yesterday I cross-examined them.” She separated her thumb from her middle finger.