“You know better,” she said, keeping her voice low. She might be ready to take her daughter on, but she always tried not to scream. “You were extremely clear on the rules and you disregarded them. Just as bad, you played your father against me. You took advantage of the situation for your own personal gain. I’m not only angry, but I’m deeply disappointed in you. I thought you were more mature, but I can see I was wrong.”
Tiffany glared at her. Carly wanted to think the part about her being disappointed had made an impact, but she couldn’t tell.
“I don’t know what you’re so mad about,” Tiffany said.
“Really? From your perspective, you did everything right?”
“Dad said I could get my belly button pierced. Doesn’t he get to make rules, too?”
“Not that one.” Carly narrowed her gaze. “You went behind my back, then you acted as if I would be happy about it.”
“I’m not going to feel bad,” Tiffany said, coming to her feet. “Your rules are stupid.”
“In your opinion.”
“In everyone’s opinion!”
“Not mine, and I’m the most important someone in your life.” Carly moved closer to her daughter. “You’re fifteen years old. While I’m interested in your opinion on some matters, this isn’t one of them. You will follow my rules and you will pay the consequences for not doing so when you know better. You deliberately defied me, Tiffany. I won’t stand for that.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m so glad you asked. First, I want you to take out the belly button ring right now.”
“What?” The teen’s eyes filled with tears. “No! You can’t make me.”
Carly shrugged. “You’re right. I could call your father back and have him and Adam hold you down so I can take it out myself. If that’s what you’d prefer, let me know. Your dad is heading back to San Francisco and I’d like to catch him before he gets too far.”
“You’re mean.”
“About this. Oh, yeah. Take it out, Tiffany.”
“No.”
Carly walked to the phone sitting on the nightstand. She picked it up and dialed Neil’s cell number.
“Hi, it’s me,” she said when he’d answered. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help with something.”
“Here!” Tiffany thrust the belly button ring at her.
Carly took it and held in a sigh. She hadn’t wanted to ever have this conversation with her daughter.
“What’s up?” Neil asked. “Carly? Are you there?”
“I am. Never mind. Sorry to bother you. See you in two weeks.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She hung up the phone and turned back to her daughter. Tiffany stood with a tissue pressed against her belly button.
“I’ll probably get an infection and die,” she said dramatically. “Then you’ll be sorry.”
Carly ignored that. “Put some antiseptic on the holes,” she said as she bent down and unplugged the phone.
Tiffany shrieked. “What are you doing?”
“Taking away your phone for a week. This one and the cell.” She held out her other hand. “Give it to me or I’ll get it myself.”
Tiffany grabbed her backpack and held it to her chest. “No. You can’t…” Her voice trailed off. She reached inside and pulled out the phone.
“I hate you,” Tiffany said, her voice low and angry. Rage burned in her eyes. “I hate you.”
Weariness settled over Carly. She took the cell phone and tucked it in her pocket. “Right now you’re not my favorite person, either.”
Carly put the confiscated phones in her office, then walked into the kitchen. It was time to set out the appetizers and wine. As her mother was off for the afternoon, it was up to Carly to take care of it.
She opened several bottles of red and white wine first, then poured herself a big glass of cabernet sauvignon. After drinking about a third of what she’d poured, she turned on the oven and got out the puff pastries Maribel had left for her.
Adam walked into the kitchen. Without saying anything, he walked to the sink, washed his hands, then took the covered plate from her and put the rest of the pastries on the cookie sheet.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Helping.”
“Why?”
“You look like you could use some.”
Did that mean pathetic? She wasn’t sure she could stand that.
“You’re dealing with a lot right now,” he said.
“You noticed.”
“Hard not to. I don’t want to add to that.”
“I appreciate that, but why do I know you’re still going to?”
He shrugged and carried the cookie sheet over to the oven. “What’s next?”
She set him to work cutting up cheese, while she diced fruit.
“I’m surprised Neil isn’t a believer—in Mary,” he said.
“For a man who worked in advertising for twenty years, he has a surprising lack of imagination.”
“Is that required for someone to believe in ghosts?”
“No. Seeing one can make even a cynic a believer.”
He looked up from the cheese. “I’ve never seen one, Carly. And while I appreciate the effort you’re making, it’s not working.”
She froze, knife poised to slice through a papaya. “What does that mean?”
He gave her a smile that could only be interpreted as tender, which, under any other circumstances, she would have appreciated.
“Raising the temperature in my room so the thermo-imaging wouldn’t read the people rearranging the furniture was original. I give you full points for that. I keep a temperature monitor in my room. I know how fast it went up and back down again. I also have a motion-activated videotape set up. It caught the whole thing.”
Carly felt her cheeks flush. A camera. So he’d seen everything.
“The misting was interesting. How did you get it so cold?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He put down the knife and circled around until he stood next to her. “I like you a lot. I think I made that clear when we were in San Francisco. You’re sexy as hell and I won’t deny that I’d like to do something about it. But this isn’t personal. It’s about science and how the universe works. There are no ghosts.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, feeling weak at the knees, and not because he stood so close. This was about watching her life disintegrate right before her eyes.
“I wish I was,” he said as he touched her cheek. “I don’t want to do this to you.”
But he would. Because that was his job, or at least his hobby.
“You should go,” she said as she stepped away from him.
“Are you asking me to leave the kitchen or the house?”
“Just the kitchen.” There was no point in him leaving the B and B until she was able to convince him to keep quiet about the place or make him believe in Mary.
“Okay.”
He bent down and kissed her cheek. She did her best not to react to the physical sensation, but apparently her body had already hardwired itself, where Adam was concerned. Every nerve went on alert and parts of her were very interested in something more physical.
She ignored the sensations of need and hunger and turned her back on him. After a couple of minutes, she heard him walk out of the kitchen. Only then did she move to a chair and collapse.
There had to be a way out of this. There had to be. Unfortunately she couldn’t see what it was.
The group seemed less cohesive than it had before, less confident. Carly knew part of the problem was that Tiffany was still angry with her. They were only three days into the weeklong grounding, which would have been okay if Carly hadn’t taken away phone privileges. She accepted that, for a teenager, not having a phone was close to death. But Tiffany had to learn there were consequences to her actions.
Rhonda was also there, but her interest in the fake-ghost proj
ect seemed to be wavering. Only Jack was excited and happy, no doubt because he got to spend some time with Tiffany.
“Adam wasn’t convinced by anything we’ve done,” Carly said when everyone had found a seat in the small, back parlor. She’d already closed and locked the door, just in case Adam returned from his walk early.
“Not even the furniture moving?” Jack asked.
“Nope. Apparently he had a video camera set up and saw the whole thing.”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” Rhonda said angrily. “Isn’t there a law against taking pictures of people without their permission?”
Carly shrugged, not sure how to answer the question. She figured there was no point in mentioning that going into Adam’s room for the sole purpose of tricking him wasn’t exactly aboveboard, either.
“We’re going to have to come up with some other ideas,” Carly told everyone. “Any suggestions?”
“We should just give up,” Rhonda told her. “We tried and we weren’t successful. We can make this place work without the ghost.”
Carly shook her head. “We can’t, Mom. I wish it were different. About seventy percent of the new bookings are because of the ghost. One of the culinary weeks is devoted to food from Mary’s era. We can’t make it on thirty percent of full. Without Mary, we’re not worth visiting. If we give up, then we might as well simply close our doors and sell.”
Jack looked stricken. “You’d do that?”
“We wouldn’t have a choice.”
He looked at Tiffany who seemed to be equally unhappy at the thought.
“There has to be something,” her daughter said.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Magnets,” Jack said as he sat up straight in his chair. “Isn’t Adam checking on electromagnet energy?”
“I think so.”
“Then we can rent a big magnet—an industrial-size one. We can bring it up in the elevator, plug it in and turn it on. That will zap his equipment in a huge way.” He paused. “It’s going to be noisy, though. I think a magnet that big would require a generator. It couldn’t run off house currents.”
Carly saw the possibilities at once. “Why don’t you take that one?” she said. “I think it’s a great idea. Find out where we can rent one and all the stuff we need to make it work. But it can’t be bigger than the elevator.”
“Good point.” He made a couple of notes.
Carly considered other options. “I wonder if there’s a way to create cold spots in his room,” she mused. “I’ll look for that on the Internet. Maybe in some joke shops.”
“Locks,” Tiffany blurted. “Remote locks. We could activate them somehow and lock him in a room. Or out of it.”
“That’s great!” Carly said.
She grinned at her daughter, who smiled back until she remembered they weren’t speaking. Then her smiled faded.
“Whatever,” she said, sounding bored. “I don’t really care what you do.”
Jack leaned close to Tiffany. “It’s a great idea.”
She smiled at him.
Carly made some notes. “Okay, we have a new plan. Jack, you’ll research the magnet and get back to me. Tiffany, how about looking for remoteactivated locks? I’ll find out about cold spots. Mom—”
“I’ll keep Adam occupied,” Rhonda said. “I don’t think you should spend any more time alone with him.”
Carly felt both Jack and Tiffany turn in her direction.
“Fine by me,” she said, and meant it. Right now her life felt plenty full. She wasn’t sure she could handle one more thing, and Adam certainly qualified as that.
CHAPTER 13
As promised, Steve called and invited Carly to dinner. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go on an actual date with him, but she wasn’t sure she didn’t, either, so she’d accepted.
Now that she’d gotten used to the idea of him as a contemporary instead of a teacher, she could admit he was nice and funny and okay, while he didn’t make her heart race or her body shake the way Adam could, he was still a fun guy. Sex wasn’t everything, right?
Oh, who was she kidding? After the past few years of lackluster lovemaking with Neil, she felt she was due for something spectacular. So far, Adam seemed to be in the running for that—although she wasn’t sure if she had the courage to give in if asked.
Steve…well, she wasn’t so sure about him. Yes, he was attractive, but so far there hadn’t been any tingles. Of course there hadn’t been much chance for close encounters. She would have to see how the night went.
She ran a brush through her hair one more time, then gave herself a quick once-over. A pale summer dress skimmed her body to just above the knee. Her sandals were relatively new and purchased for their cuteness rather than their practicality. She debated bringing a sweater, then chose fashion over comfort and left it behind.
At exactly six twenty-nine she went downstairs and found Steve in the foyer, talking to Rhonda. He looked up as she entered and smiled at her.
“Hi,” he said as he walked toward her. He paused at her side and kissed her cheek. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured in her ear.
“Thanks.”
He looked pretty good, too. Not as overtly handsome as Adam, but still appealing in a charming, older-man sort of way. She was happy to see him and looking forward to the evening. Both good signs.
Carly waved to her mother and walked out with Steve. When he held open the passenger door of his black sedan, she had the feeling of being watched from the house. She glanced back over her shoulder, half expecting, half hoping to see Mary at one of the windows. But there wasn’t anyone. No person and no ghost. Maybe she should simply accept that Mary hadn’t existed. As much as she wanted things to be different, they weren’t and she should probably get used to that.
The restaurant Steve chose had once been a winery. There were still old barrels stored up in the rafters and the scent of grapes lingered in the paneling. They were shown to a quiet table in the corner where they had a view of the lush courtyard.
Steve ignored the menu and leaned toward her. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I was intrigued that first day when you brought Tiffany to school.”
“Oh, good. So I don’t have to worry that you thought about me before that.”
He grinned. “I’m not that twisted. A teacher thinking about a student? Not my style.”
“Twisted? Interesting word choice.”
“Hey, I learn plenty of hip talk in class.”
She leaned close. “You know we don’t say hip anymore, right?”
“I’d heard that. But I’d always liked the word.”
She smiled. “Good to know.” She fingered her menu but didn’t pick it up. “I was surprised you were still here. I know what you said about liking the town and putting down roots, but still. It’s not the big city.”
“I grew up in Chicago. When I graduated from Northwestern I had two goals—to never shovel snow again and to live near the ocean. I have both here. Then I got married and had kids. We didn’t want to uproot them, and to be honest, I didn’t want to uproot myself. I guess I could have had more ambition, but I don’t.”
Wanting a simpler life looked okay on Steve, she thought. “You make a difference,” she said. “That matters more than ambition. You touch those kids every day.”
“Not every day. Maybe once a week. When things are going well.”
She laughed. “Fair enough. How old are your kids?”
“Brad, the youngest, is in his first year of college. The twins, Katie and Mark, graduate next year. She’s going to be a kindergarten teacher and he’s applying to law school.”
She winced. “That’s a lot to pay for.”
“It’s not a problem. Bonnie had a large life insurance policy. It’s going to put the kids through college and then some.”
“I’d heard your wife died. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. We had a great
marriage. She was diagnosed with liver cancer in September and gone before Christmas. In some ways it was easier that it was so fast. She suffered a lot less. Selfishly, I wanted her around a whole lot longer.”
“I’m sure you did.”
None of her friends had lost a spouse. That was supposed to happen to parents and friends of parents.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“The kids were still pretty young. It was hard. Bonnie’s mom moved in for a few years. People thought I was crazy asking my mother-in-law to come live with us, but she was terrific. She picked up the slack, gave Katie a woman to talk to and got us through the worst of it.”
“Where is she now?”
“Enjoying her well-deserved retirement in Sun City. That’s down south. She has a lot of friends there and it’s close enough that we can all visit.”
He shook his head. “This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. I was going to dazzle you with my wit and charm.”
“What makes you think you haven’t?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Then you have really low standards.”
She laughed. “I don’t get out much.”
“Any dating since the divorce?”
“No.” When would she have found the time? Plus there weren’t exactly dozens of men lining up to spend the evening with her.
“So I’m the first?”
She nodded, knowing she couldn’t really count her dinner with Adam. She’d invited him for the express purpose of getting him out of the house for the failed furniture rearranging. As for the kiss afterward, she wasn’t thinking about it anymore, let alone talking about it.
“Speaking of living with relatives, how are you doing with your mom?” he asked.
Carly wrinkled her nose. “It’s okay. Some days are easier than others. I’m sure Tiffany would say I make her as crazy as my mom makes me, but I can’t imagine it.”
“You’re in a unique situation,” Steve told her. “Your mother is a lovely person, but she’s also a professional victim. No matter what happens, it’s never her fault.”
The waiter appeared just then and asked for their drink orders. Carly thought she’d asked for white wine, but she wasn’t sure. She was too stunned to think.
There's Always Plan B Page 15