Tumbling Blocks

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Tumbling Blocks Page 8

by Earlene Fowler


  “Of course not,” I said. “Take a jacket, though. I know it’s not Kansas, but it can get kind of nippy here after dark.”

  “Brought one with me,” she said, standing up. “Let’s walk, son. I’d like to see your neighborhood Christmas lights.”

  “Take her downtown, Gabe. The Christmas window contest is being judged tonight.”

  “Sounds delightful,” she said.

  It was obvious that she wanted to talk to Gabe privately about Ray. More power to her. Straighten this out right off so we could all relax.

  After they were gone, I fed the dogs, then Ray took me up on that coffee. We took our cups out on the front porch, where we watched the dogs have one last playtime before bed. When we settled down in the green wicker chairs, I decided to quit beating around the bush and ask Ray about their marriage.

  “Were you and Kathryn engaged long?”

  He cleared his throat and looked me straight in the eyes. “Benni, I know I was a huge shock to Gabe. I wanted to call from Las Vegas, but Kathryn insisted that it would be better to surprise him. He’s her son, so I couldn’t very well argue with that.”

  I sipped my coffee, contemplating his words. Her actions seemed pretty passive-aggressive to me, but what did I really know or understand about Gabe’s relationship with his mother? She probably did know him better than anyone.

  “She might be right,” I reluctantly conceded. “As hard as it is on him to be surprised, if he’d known twenty-four hours ago, he might have really worked himself up into a snit.” The minute I said it, I felt guilty, like I was being disloyal to my husband with this virtual stranger. “Not that Gabe isn’t a really accepting and friendly person. He is, it’s just that . . .”

  Ray gave a slow smile, causing the deep wrinkles in his face to shift. It occurred to me then who he really reminded me of. The scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Or rather the man who played the scarecrow. Ray Bolger. Ray, I thought. That’s funny, they had the same first name.

  “I understand,” Ray said. “He’s a police officer. Suspicion comes with the job. No doubt, he’ll have me checked out as soon as he can to make sure I’m not some con man trying to take his mother for her pension and savings. I would think less of him if he didn’t use all his resources to investigate me.”

  I sighed in relief, because I knew that’s exactly what Gabe would do. If he wasn’t on a walk with his mother now, he probably would have excused himself with the pretense of going to the bathroom and instead called one of his friends who’d left the force and was working as a private detective. Gabe wouldn’t do anything illegal to find out about Ray, but this was his mother. He’d find out about the man she married one way or another.

  “Question,” I said.

  “Feel free.”

  “Do Becky and Angel know?”

  “We called them last night. We were actually married on Wednesday. Kathryn wanted to wait a day before she called anyone.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I love Kathryn, Benni, but I can’t pretend that I understand her.”

  “Welcome to my world. How did the girls take it?”

  “A little better than Gabe, because I’ve actually known them for a few months.”

  “How long have you and Kathryn been seeing each other?”

  He thought for a moment. “About six months.”

  He must be the guy that Gabe’s sister Becky said Kathryn was “seeing.” But apparently even she hadn’t realized how serious it had turned. Great, so I sort of knew about Ray and didn’t mention it to Gabe. I wondered if there was a way I could never let him know that.

  Oh, well, I’d worry about that later. “You know, I don’t even know your last name. And what your kids think of your marriage.”

  “Austin. Like the Texas capital. Never was blessed with children. I’m just a cranky old widower.”

  I laughed. “You don’t seem a bit cranky to me. So, did Kathryn take your name?” It was something I would not have the nerve to ask her.

  “Actually, she did. Though she kept Ortiz as her middle name. I didn’t ask her to take my name and didn’t expect it. It’s nice, though. A man likes marking what’s his.”

  I was taken aback a moment by his borderline sexist remark. Had I read this guy wrong? Was he really a creep? Then one of his watery eyes gave a slow wink, telling me he was pulling my leg.

  I shook my head and laughed. “You remind me of my daddy. I don’t always know when he’s teasing. I’m going to have to really keep on my toes around you.”

  “People have been known to grow muscular calves when being around me too long.”

  I shook my head again. “Well, Mr. Ray Austin, you must be tired. I have to get up early to help Daddy tack up our horses for the Christmas parade tomorrow, so if you’ll forgive me, I need to get ready for bed.”

  “I am a bit weary myself,” he said. “I think I’ll turn in too.”

  “Rest well, Ray.”

  “You too, Miss Benni. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I took Boo out for one last potty break, then went upstairs to my bedroom to made a quick call to Dove. Though I’d see her first thing tomorrow morning, I knew she’d throttle me if I didn’t tell her about Kathryn’s new husband as soon as I could.

  “I was just settling down in bed with my favorite man,” Dove said.

  “I thought Isaac was gone until tomorrow night.” He was speaking at a photography convention in Monterey.

  “I meant Father Brown.” Her laugh, a cheerful cackle, reminded me of her chickens when they were complaining at her to be fed. Dove had reread G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown mysteries probably a dozen times.

  “I’ll save you some time; the butler did it,” I said, putting Boo in his crate and closing the metal door.

  “Not a butler to be seen in this one,” she said. “How did it go with Kathryn? Did your house pass the white-glove inspection?” She knew how worried I’d been and had teased me about it, telling me that no amount of lemon Pledge or homemade biscuits could make up for the fact that I flat-out stole this woman’s only son.

  “It’s been great,” I said, smug in the fact that I had information that would shock her, something hard to do with my gramma, who claimed she had seen everything there was to see in human nature in her seventy-seven years. “She didn’t look twice at the house. She’s been gracious, kind, loving and actually seems glad to be here.” I took a breath, ready to spring my big news.

  “Lord, have mercy,” Dove said. “She got married, didn’t she?”

  CHAPTER 5

  “DO-OO-VE.” I STRETCHED HER NAME INTO THREE syllables. “That was my big news.” How did she know these things?

  “What’s his name?” Dove asked. “Is he nice? What does he do? Who’s his family?”

  “I didn’t find out much, but he seems like a nice man. His name is Ray Austin. He’s a retired engineer of the choo-choo variety.”

  “Good retirement benefits,” Dove said, her voice approving. “He’s probably dependable and has strong nerves.”

  “Gabe and Kathryn went for a walk after supper, and Ray and I were able to talk for about a half hour. After his wife died, he dog-shared three dogs with his next-door neighbor, who was a cop, so he’s an animal lover. He’s retired. Scout likes him. So does Boo, though Boo is still sort of indiscriminate in his tastes in people.”

  “I still can’t believe you volunteered to babysit a puppy,” Dove said. “Don’t be expecting me to relieve you. I’m busier than a boll weevil in high cotton.”

  It didn’t surprise me that she already knew about my four-legged guest. There wasn’t much that happened in my life in San Celina that didn’t find its way to her doorstep, usually within the hour.

  “What could I tell Hud? He went to Texas with Laura Lee to her grandmother’s ninety-fifth birthday. Think of it as my way of trying to help reunite a broken family.”

  “That boy will never settle down for long. I still think you need to watch him like a hu
ngry coyote.”

  “I won’t have to the next two weeks, and I won’t ask you to take care of Boo, except—”

  She didn’t let me finish. “I know, I know, you need someone to watch him during the parade. Lucky for you, missy, I’m feeling gimpy and not riding in the parade this year.”

  I tickled Boo’s nose through the door of his upstairs crate. “I promise that most of the time I’ll be in charge of his care. I will gratefully appreciate some help for tomorrow, though.”

  “So, how is Gabe reacting to his new stepdaddy?”

  “The jury’s still out on that one. He seems quiet and a bit standoffish, but that’s Gabe whenever he first meets someone. I’ll find out more when he gets home from his walk with Kathryn. I’ll update you tomorrow morning on the new marriage and my murder investigation.” I hoped to surprise her with the last part of my statement.

  “I heard about that,” Dove said. “Who do you think sent Pinky Edmondson to sleep with the fishes?”

  “How could you have possibly heard about that?”

  “Constance mentioned her suspicions to Lorraine, Dr. Olson’s nurse, who told her daughter, Sylvie, who told her husband and was overheard by her daughter, Heather, who works at the Tastee-Freez, where she told Sissy Brownmiller’s granddaughter, Autumn, who told Sissy, who couldn’t wait to call me with the gory details, which I had to pretend to already know because you never call me and tell me anything.”

  “Give me a break. Constance told me less than twelve hours ago.”

  “Which gave you eleven hours and thirty minutes in which to call and tell me so I wouldn’t be humiliated in front of the town’s biggest gossip.”

  “I thought you said you pretended you knew about it.”

  “That didn’t fool her for a minute, and you know it,” Dove grumbled.

  “So, did you hear that my own husband asked me to investigate?”

  I could hear her perk up over the phone. “No, Sissy didn’t mention that.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t know it.”

  “Details,” she demanded.

  “Gabe is asking me to keep Constance off his back by pretending to investigate. He thinks she’s crazy, that Pinky died of heart failure, just like her doctor and the medical examiner concluded. But you can’t tell anyone about this. Gabe just wants Constance to think I’m looking into it.”

  “Oh,” Dove said, disappointment obvious in her voice.

  “It’s really just one more chore I have to do this next week, pretend I’m interviewing the candidates for the 49 Club to find out which one is dying . . . or rather killing . . . to get in. That’s who she suspects.”

  “Better you than me. I’ve got pies to bake and baskets to fill.” Dove, as usual, was in charge of the San Celina Farm Bureau’s holiday baskets drive. Our goal this year was four hundred gift baskets to deliver on Christmas Eve to families in crisis.

  “I’ve got a bunch of stuff collected in the bin at the folk art museum. I’ll bring it on Sunday, and we can work on them next week.”

  I’d taken my shower and was reading a book by a folklorist who had interviewed dozens of artists in the South, when I heard voices downstairs. Minutes later, Gabe was in the bedroom unbuttoning his shirt.

  “How was your walk?” I asked, setting aside my book.

  “Fine,” he said, tossing his shirt on the top of Boo’s crate.

  Boo had fallen asleep a half hour ago, and even Gabe’s entry into the room hadn’t disturbed his deep, puppy sleep. I glanced over at my alarm clock. Ten thirty p.m. I’d set it for two a.m. There was no way a puppy this age could make it through the night without a potty break. I resigned myself to broken sleep patterns for the next two weeks.

  “Fine isn’t enough information, Friday,” I said, crawling out from under the down comforter. “What did you two talk about?”

  He shrugged, pulled off his jeans and underwear. “Family and things. Just caught up.”

  I admit, I was distracted for a moment by his muscular thighs, then looked back up at his face. “I want details. I want to know about why she decided to just up and get married. Did you two talk about that at all?”

  “Let me take a shower first. Then you can grill me.”

  After he was finished with his steamy shower and settled next to me in bed, I started in. “C’mon, Chief, tell me everything your mother said, or I’ll be forced to use thumbscrews.”

  He settled more deeply into his two down pillows. “There’s not much to tell. She met him at the senior center in Wichita. He was born in North Dakota but has lived in Kansas since World War II. He was in the navy, then worked for the railroad. Widowed, no children.”

  “Did you ask her why they got married without telling anyone?” I sat up, eager to dish about his mom’s new husband.

  “No.”

  “She wouldn’t tell you?”

  “Didn’t ask.”

  “What? You didn’t ask? Why in the world not?”

  “Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”

  I stared at his face. His expression was enigmatic, but I didn’t believe for a moment that this didn’t bother him. “You’re not mad?”

  He shrugged; a flash of some kind of emotion crossed his face and was gone. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”

  I lay back down and turned on my side, facing him. “I have a confession to make.”

  He looked over at me, his face neutral. “Don’t tell me you knew about this, because if that is true, I’ll . . .” He left it open, knowing my imagination would fill in the blanks with something worse than he’d actually do.

  “No, not exactly.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Your sister Becky sort of told me your mom was seeing somebody, but she didn’t say it was serious.” I reached across the bed and stroked his forearm. “To be honest, I don’t think she knew it was serious, either. Ray told me they called your sisters and told them.”

  He stared at me a long moment, considering this new information. “Mom called the girls? When?”

  I hesitated, wishing now I hadn’t been the one to mention that. “Uh, I think, yesterday?”

  “Fine.” He rolled over, turning his back to me.

  “Oh, Gabe, don’t be mad. Maybe your mom was just afraid to tell you. You know, like you . . .” Then I shut up, realizing that pointing out how afraid he’d been to tell his mother about our quickie marriage might not be the best thing to say right now.

  He rolled back over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not. I’m just . . .” He paused for a moment, and I thought he might reveal what he was actually feeling. “Forget it. Let’s just deal with this tomorrow.” He took my hand, kissed the palm, and turned out his bedside light.

  “Sounds good,” I agreed and turned out my light. I lay back on my pillows, uneasy about how quickly he calmed down. To be honest, I almost wished there had been a huge blowup between him and his mother tonight. It would have cleared the air, gotten everything out in the open, settled things. That’s what Dove and I would have done. Then again, she wasn’t my mother. I knew from watching my friends and even the relationship that Dove had with my father that conflicts like this weren’t always dealt with as directly and quickly as Dove and I resolved things. It seemed that having that extra generation between two people helped lighten the animosity.

  “Dream sweet, querida,” my husband whispered to me.

  I tried to discern his mood, anticipate what might happen between him and his mother in the next few weeks, but I only heard his normal voice, a little sad, but normal.

  “You too, Friday.”

  FIVE A.M. CAME TOO QUICKLY. BOO’S MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT bathroom breaks were going to be the death of me. Any desire I’d ever had about riding in the Christmas parade was long gone. Would Daddy totally kill me if I called and begged off? Probably, since I’d talked him into riding in the parade in the first place.

  “Hud owes me big time,” I muttered, setting the table for the b
reakfast I wouldn’t be sharing with Gabe, Kathryn and Ray.

  “What was that?” Ray asked, coming into the kitchen already dressed for the day. He wore a red plaid flannel shirt and blue Dickie work pants.

  “Good morning,” I said, glancing down at my faded sweats. I thought I’d be out of the house before anyone woke up.

  “Sorry I’m up so early,” he said. “Once I retired, I couldn’t break the habit of getting up at four a.m. I’ve never needed more than six hours’ sleep. Less now that I’m older.”

  I poured him a cup of coffee. “No apologies necessary. Feel free to do whatever you like here. This coffee is the real stuff, if that’s okay.”

  “Absolutely. I only drink the kid stuff at night.” He took the mug and nodded his thanks. “Why don’t you go on to the ranch? I imagine you have a lot to do today with the parade and all. I know a fork from a spoon. I can set the table.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” I said, though I was sorely tempted. “My gramma Dove would kill me.”

  He touched a finger to his lips. “It’ll be our secret.”

  With that, I took him up on his offer and was out the door in less than a half hour, lugging Boo under one arm. The fancy Western clothes I’d wear in the parade were already cleaned and ready at the ranch. I settled him into his car seat and headed for the ranch.

  “He is a cute little guy,” Dove said, taking Boo from my arms, her peach-colored face softening. “Just leave him in here with me.” I knew once she saw him she’d be a goner. She had never been able to resist babies of any kind.

  “Boo’s travel bed is already hooked up in my truck, so why don’t you just drive that into town? You can go home with Daddy. I have his leash, a travel carrier and poopy bags in the bag.” I handed her the green and white L.L.Bean bag with his name on it. “His puppy treats and food are in there. He eats three times a day, and I have it portioned off in baggies. He likes—”

  She waved a hand at me and set him down on the kitchen floor. “Get out to the barn and help your daddy. I was taking care of babies a million years before you was born.”

 

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