by Day Leclaire
Enough was enough.
* * *
Callie tried to conceal her panic beneath a calm façade. "Can't you glue it back together?"
"That's supposed to be a joke, right?" Ted said.
"No. It isn't a joke. I'm very serious," she explained with great care. "You're the electrical expert. You cut the line. You sew it up or... or tie it off. Just fix it. Fast."
"What're ya, nutty? Yeah, I know electric. But this ain't electric. It's a phone line. And I'm no Alexander Graham Bell. Try calling the phone company, why don'tcha."
"I can't call the phone company!" It took every ounce of control not to scream. "How am I supposed to get through? My phone's out of order because you cut the line. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right." His laugh reminded Callie of a donkey she'd once heard at the state fair. "Call the phone company, I tell her. Just dial 0 for operator. Whatta riot. That's one on me, I gotta admit. Walked right into—" Ted broke off, staring over her shoulder. He gave a bizarre sort of gulp, his face turning a pasty white.
Callie turned around, never doubting for a minute she'd see Julian. "Wonderful," she muttered, dredging up a weak smile. "You'd better come up with something good, Ted. And fast. This man has death written all over him."
The pseudo-electrician edged toward the door, talking fast. "Well, I'm outta here. Good luck with your phones, Callie. And with your electrical, too." That said, he took off, his tool belt jingling wildly about his hips.
"Hey, wait a minute!" she shouted after him. "You can't leave. What about my phone line? Ted!"
Julian came up behind her. "I'll kill him!" he stated, livid with rage. "No. First I'll kill you for letting him on the premises, and then I'll kill him. Either way, you're both dead."
"He... I... We..."
He spun to face her and she took a hasty step backward. She didn't think she'd ever seen him quite so angry. Dark color swept across his cheeks and forehead, and he held his mouth in taut uncompromising lines. She forced herself to meet his eyes. They weren't brown anymore. Not one speck of chocolate remained to tempt her in those hard black eyes.
"How could you?" he demanded, towering over her. "How could you let him come back after what he did yesterday? Don't your promises mean anything to you?"
"Of course they do." She inched away, attempting to explain. "Ted wanted to help. He felt so awful about your computer. He begged me to let him make amends. What could I do?"
It was the wrong question to ask.
Julian stepped closer, his voice raspy and dangerously soft. "What could you do? Try saying no! It's simple. Honest it is. No. Two little letters. Try it. No."
"Julian—"
"Not Julian. No. The word is no."
"You don't understand."
He ran a hand through his hair. "You can't say it, can you? That's why you spend your entire life taking on everyone else's jobs and chores and responsibilities. The whole town of Willow knows it. Good old Callie, always ready, willing and able... to play the patsy, that is."
The color drained from her face and she couldn't hide the hurt his words inflicted. He was being unfair. So she had a tendency to lend a hand. Was that so wrong? She'd always thought it admirable, yet Julian seemed to consider it a flaw.
She gathered her dignity around her like a cloak and looked up at him. "I help people, Julian. It's what I like to do. It doesn't make me a patsy. It makes me a nice person. A helpful person. Maybe you should try it more often. Maybe it would make you a nicer person, too."
He released his breath in a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Callie. Of course helping others is a nice thing to do. I just think you take it too far. You must admit, the results have been less than stellar."
"You mean Ted."
His gaze sharpened. "I mean Ted, the repairs, Danny, and all the other various and sundry projects you have going. Callie, we started to discuss this once before and we never finished the conversation. Perhaps we should."
She shook her head, amazed at how he could wound her with mere words. "Perhaps we shouldn't. We're never going to agree on this. It's important for me to help others, whereas you think it's a nuisance. I don't see room for compromise, so I suggest we don't even try."
"I agree." His expression hardened. "It also proves to me that selling this place may be our only option. I can't force you to give up Willow's End should you inherit, but the option has a strong appeal should I inherit the house."
She drew back. "You can't mean that. You couldn't sell Willow's End and live with yourself afterward."
"Couldn't I? We'll have to wait and see, won't we? As things stand, I have no choice. The responsibility for this house has been dumped in my lap whether I like it or not. Well, we've tried things your way. It didn't work. Now we'll do things mine."
"What do you mean?" she asked uneasily.
"I mean, until we know who the rightful owner of Willow's End is, I'm taking over." He adjusted his glasses, intimidating her with his businesslike stance. "My computer's blown and it'll take at least a week to get a new one up and running. If I can straighten out this mess with the house and the will, I'll be able to get my book written the minute I'm operational again."
Callie didn't like the sound of that. "Maybe if you searched for the will, the kids and I could—"
"Forget it. Actually, these repairs may prove to be a blessing in disguise. It gives us a chance to look for the will while we get the house into a livable condition." He smiled without humor. "Have your crew here bright and early tomorrow morning. And by that I do not mean ten. I mean eight. I'll let you know then what your assignments will be."
"Oh, Julian," Callie groaned. "You're not going to start that first, second and third stuff again, are you?"
"If that's what it takes to get things done around here, then that's precisely what I'll do."
* * *
"We've tried these past two weeks, Callie. Honestly we have," Cory said. "The problem is..."
Donna gave a wistful sigh. "He really is thirty, isn't he?"
"Thirty and then some," Cory said. "Just look at what he did to my poor brother. Ted up and joined the navy just to avoid running into Mr. Lord again."
Callie put her hands on her hips. "Don't exaggerate—"
"Who's exaggerating? My mom's thrilled to pieces. With Ted out of the house, we have a real chance at getting our own electricity working again, now that he won't be around to fool with it, anymore." He grinned. "Mom wants to thank the old guy by baking him a pie."
Callie stared at him. "The old guy? I hope you don't mean Mr. Lord."
Donna interrupted. "Forget the pie, Cory. And forget your stupid brother, too. No one cares about any of that. What we do care about is this business with the lists." She looked meaningfully at him, earning an emphatic nod of agreement. "It's time to get serious. We need to decide what we're going to do."
"What you're going to do is get to work," Callie stated in a no-nonsense voice.
"'Fraid not." Cory took a seat on the kitchen floor and folded his arms across his chest. "Consider this a mutiny. You know, a sit-out. Like they used to do in the olden days."
Donna joined him on the floor and folded her arms across her chest in an exact imitation of her boyfriend. "Ditto."
"A sit-out? You mean a sit-in? But this isn't—"
The time for a history lesson, Callie realized, studying their frowns of displeasure with growing alarm. She had to find some way to change their minds. Because if she didn't, the pair would find themselves right back at juvey hall answering to a judge who wouldn't look too kindly on this latest incident. It also meant she'd fail to complete Maudie's final request, a request she'd avoided mentioning to Julian. Worst of all, she'd fail these kids and they could suffer the consequences of today's impulsive action for the rest of their lives. For their sakes, she had to prevent that from happening.
"I know this isn't what you're used to and the changes have been a bit drastic. But I wish you'd give Julian another chance," she pleaded. She
held up her hands at the clamorous protests. "Give it one more day, that's all I'm asking. You've made it through these past two weeks. Can't you live through one more day?"
"Highly doubtful," Cory replied. "I mean, we're talking major attitude adjustment here. That's asking an awful lot, you know?"
Callie thought fast, not that she had many choices. She could come up with one, which she'd undoubtedly live to regret. "Fine. Five bucks a day each for a major attitude adjustment. Take it or leave it."
"Ten and you've got a deal," Donna shot back.
Twenty dollars. It would put a big dent in tomorrow's paycheck, but if it put an end to their sit-out, she'd consider it money well spent. "Okay. But it means you keep his schedule to the millisecond if that's what he wants. And Cory—" She glared at the main offender. "No more smart remarks. Another crack about having to send out messages by smoke signals because the phone's not working, and the deal's off."
"Since the phones got fixed yesterday, that won't be a problem."
"You know what I mean. Now, are we agreed?"
"Agreed," the two chorused enthusiastically.
Callie spent the rest of the day riddled with guilt for having bribed the kids. Her dismay intensified the minute Julian came downstairs, a changed man, making her bribe unnecessary. Gone was the business executive with his lists and detailed instructions. In his place stood a cheerful, energizing leader who, within minutes, had her helpers climbing all over themselves to do his bidding.
For a while Callie contributed, but gradually she drifted to the fringes of the group, dismayed by the strange emotions gripping her. She slumped to the floor, feeling ignored and left out of their enchanted circle. They didn't seem to need her and she didn't like the feeling, not one little bit.
As though aware of her distress, Brutus lumbered into the room and sat beside her. He gave her face a comforting lick. With a sigh she wrapped her arms about his neck, wishing his brandy cask contained real brandy. She'd have to correct that oversight one of these days.
Julian called a halt to the day's activities late that afternoon. "Okay, you two. We're done for now. You've worked very hard the past couple of weeks and I appreciate it. This place is really shaping up. A few more weeks and we'll have all our walls back."
"Too bad we haven't found the will," said Cory. "I suppose three socks, two of Maudie's 'it's not here' notes and a pair of bloomers isn't such a bad haul."
Julian smiled. "Not bad at all. Though proper wiring, real walls, and a coat of paint would be even better. Now that the house is approaching a livable state, we'll concentrate on finding Maudie's will. In the meantime, I want to thank you for all you've done. I've arranged for free banana splits at Farkle's Ice Cream Parlor. Tomorrow, you can have the day off. The lake's all yours if you'd like."
Cheers broke out and Callie buried her face in Brutus's coat. "That's just great," she muttered. "Ruin their teeth. Load them up on sugar. And using bribery, of all things. How low can you get?"
"Fantastic!" Cory exclaimed. "Twenty bucks from Callie to end our sit-out, plus free splits from Mr. Lord. That's what I call an outstanding day."
A deafening silence followed their noisy exit. "Buying them off?" Julian moved his stepladder to the middle of the study. "I'm surprised at you, Callie." He climbed to the top in order to inspect the ceiling, appearing satisfied with the final paint job.
"What do you call banana splits at Farkle's?" she demanded. "A pat on the head?"
"In a way, yes. They gave their all the past couple of weeks and I wanted to show my gratitude." He perched on the top step and studied her. "That's different from an out and out bribe."
He was right. She shouldn't have bribed them. But she'd been desperate. What else could she have done? She inched closer to Brutus, struggling to gather her courage to apologize. "So I'm human," she whispered without thinking into the dog's ear. "He'd be human, too, if someone knocked him down to earth to join the rest of us mere mortals."
With a happy bark, Brutus lunged to his feet and barreled toward the ladder.
"No, wait!" she called, an instant too late. "I didn't mean it!"
At Callie's cry of warning, Brutus made a gallant effort to stop in time. He backpedaled frantically, to no avail. His huge body spun sideways and his tail and hip hit the ladder dead on, sweeping it out from under Julian. The ladder crashed to the ground, taking Julian along with it.
Callie covered her eyes, cringing at the noise. A long silent minute ticked by before she got up the nerve to peek through her fingers. She winced. The man lay sprawled on the floor, the beast collapsed at his side.
Julian lifted his head and looked at the dog. "Et tu, Brute?" With a groan, his head fell back and he closed his eyes.
Callie jumped to her feet and rushed to him. "Julian! Julian, are you all right?" She knelt on the floor, staring down at his pale, still face and caught her breath in alarm. "Oh, no. Please don't be hurt. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I never meant for Brutus to really do it."
A horrible thought struck her. What if Julian had broken something in the fall? What if he'd hit his head and was in a coma? "I can't remember what you do for head wounds," she moaned. "Is it feet up or head up?"
Brutus settled the issue for her. He stuck his nose against Julian's and gave him a lick.
"Cut that out!" he blasted, his eyes still closed. "You've done enough damage without slobbering all over me."
Callie gave a little gasp of relief. "Julian?"
One eyelid lifted. "Who the hell else would it be?" he snarled and shut his eye again.
"Um, are you all right? You're not moving."
"Hey, I'm no fool. I move and that spawn of Hades eats me."
She blinked in bewilderment. "Who? Brutus? Why would he eat you?"
"Why does he do anything he does? Because he's insane." Julian folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not taking any chances. I'll stay right here, thank you all the same."
"He only knocked you off the ladder because I told him to," she confessed. "He won't eat you unless I say so, and I won't. I promise."
"That makes me feel much, much better. You make a habit of this sort of thing?"
"Yes. Yes, I do." Guilt overrode all other emotions. "Oh, why don't I stop and think, instead of saying the first thing that pops into my head?" She glared at Brutus. "And darn it all! Why do you have to take everything I say so literally? I said someone. Do you know the word someone? Someone should knock him off the ladder. Not you. Someone should push Gail in the lake. Get it? Someone does not mean you."
Brutus gave a sharp bark in response.
"Gail?" Julian opened his eyes to glance from Callie to the dog. "Let me take a wild guess here."
Brutus shook his head and let out a pathetic whine. As though to make amends, he tried to climb onto Julian's lap.
The breath whooshed out of his lungs. "Cut that out or you'll kill me for sure." He pushed at the huge animal. "Go on now, sit. I'm not mad at you." His stony stare came to rest on Callie. "You, on the other hand, are a different story."
"I can explain," she stated in a rush.
"I'll bet. Start with Gail and move forward from there."
"Gail. Right." She twisted her fingers together. "You see, we were out by the lake and Gail said some things that I didn't quite... Quite..."
"Quite like?" Julian tossed out.
"Like." She leapt at the word like a fish at a lure. "Good. I didn't quite like her topic of conversation and as a result I sort of lost my temper. I said someone—" she paused long enough to glare at Brutus again "—should push her in the lake."
"And?"
She gulped. "And someone did. Afterward Gail claimed I did it."
"I know." His voice held an angry inflection.
Callie stirred uneasily, wondering whether his wrath was directed at her or Gail. Either way, it didn't matter. His ex-fiancée hadn't been in the wrong, a fact she needed to make clear.
"It was all my fault," she insisted earnestly. "I may not
have pushed her in the lake with my own two hands, but I was responsible. That's why I accepted the blame."
Julian sat up and groaned, holding a hand to his ribs. "I get the picture." His dark eyes no longer glittered with anger. Instead, a hint of amusement drifted through the rich, brown depths.
"I've always known Brutus knocked Gail in the lake. My bedroom window faces that direction. I saw the whole thing. I just didn't realize you ordered the mutt to, er, carry out the execution. And until today, I wouldn't have believed it, even if you'd told me."
"Because you didn't think Brutus understood." A tiny smile curved her lips. "I assume you believe it now?"
"Let's say I'm willing to be a bit more broadminded about the possibility." He reached out and gave her long brown hair a gentle tug. "You blamed yourself for my breakup with Gail, didn't you, green eyes?" At Callie's nod, his expression turned serious. "Our relationship ended the moment she lied about you."
"Oh. I wish I'd known."
"Try asking next time." He studied her, curiosity reflected in his voice. "I know what I said now to make you so mad. What horrible thing did Gail say then that rated a dunking?"
His question caught her by surprise. Brilliant color flooded Callie's face. No way would she answer that one, she decided. Her lips were sealed, taped, and locked shut. Not under pain of death would she tell him what Gail had said. It was too humiliating. Retreat seemed the best option. With more haste than grace, she attempted to scramble to her feet.
"Oh, no, you don't." He caught her hand and pulled her to his side with distressing ease. "You're not going anywhere until we finish this conversation. Spill it."
"No."
"You owe me that much. In fact, it's the very least you owe me. Give. What did she say?"
Callie attempted to palm him off with a nonanswer. "She was rude. And if there's one thing I can't stand it's rude people." She gave an experimental tug of her arm. His grip, though light, would not be easily broken.