by Sue Gibson
He could almost see the calculations going on behind eyes as dark as espresso coffee. Paris would be a lot more fun with a pocketful of cash, he knew. He rocked back on his heels and consulted his watch, allowing her a moment to compose a dignified acceptance.
"Again, Mr. Sullivan, no. Thank you" Her voice was softer now, as if she was explaining a difficult concept to a child. "Some things can be put off, but this trip isn't one of them. I will be in Paris in a couple of days, not Buttermilk Falls."
His stomach sank with her refusal. It would have been exciting to work side-by-side with Delaney Forbes. Although he could easily picture her in Paris with her shiny black hair held back with some flimsy scarf thing as she strolled along the Left Bank. And most likely, a guy named Pierre would be waiting for her at a little bistro.
She sounded completely determined to leave her childhood home. Understandable. Admirable even, he considered, glancing out the tiny rear window to a row of cluttered backyards crowded with swing sets and clotheslines. He totally got it.
He'd escaped his own suburban prison when he'd left for university. He loved his parents for providing him a stable childhood, but he'd intentionally carved out a bigger life for himself.
His eyes went back to Buttermilk Falls' most cosmopolitan and delicious citizen, as he gloomily anticipated his next four weeks of hard time in Hicksville.
She pointedly examined her empty paper cup and hopped from her perch. "I'm off. Time for another cup of coffee," she announced as she exited through the back door. "Enjoy the rest of the auction."
Yes, the completely charming Delaney Forbes belonged in Paris, he allowed, as he shouldered back through the flimsy beaded curtain. But why did it have to be on his time?
The trip to Tim Hortons doughnut shop was anything but routine. She'd met the police chief, Sergeant Wilson, just as she entered the shop, and he'd immediately pulled her aside to relay the shocking news. Aborting her coffee run, she'd raced back to the auction.
The gallery's door slammed behind her, propelling the wind chimes into a clacking frenzy. She charged back into the room she'd vacated only ten minutes earlier and scanned for a woman dressed in floral polyester.
There she was, front and center, her bountiful chest still heaving. "Flo Reading, exactly what happened?" Delaney demanded and braced for a convoluted tale rife with unrelated details.
"Delaney, I'm so sorry!" Flo wailed as she strained to rise from the depths of the giant barber's chair where she'd collapsed moments earlier. "But don't worry, the fire in your kitchen is out," she announced to Delaney and curious onlookers alike. Flo wiped pearls of sweat from her upper lip with a flowered sleeve and accepted Artie's help in resettling her trembling body in the chair.
"Flo, calm down," Artie cautioned, "it's not worth having an episode over." He patted her shoulder and smiled at his audience through clenched teeth, dipping his head and whispering in Flo's ear, "The auction is almost over, just rest a bit until I finish up."
He pointed the hook end of his cane toward his nervous audience. "Come on back," he called out. "Nothin' at all to concern yourselves with."
Mollified, eighty-plus eyes refocused on the next item up for bid.
Delaney pressed her fingertips to her temples. All I wanted was a second cup of coffee and suddenly my whole world blows up. Minutes earlier, when she'd slipped over to Timmy's, Sergeant Wilson had informed her of the blaze at 31 Lilac Lane, the house her parents had vacated four years ago when they'd moved to Calgary to be closer to Delaney's brother and their three grandchildren; the house that was subsidizing her much anticipated year in Paris.
"No use going home to check damage just yet," the police chief had said, cutting into the line for a refill. "The volunteer firefighters have the scene taped off. Talk to Flo," he'd advised, and nodded down the street toward Delaney's storefront. "She ran out of your place hell-bent on breaking the upsetting news herself." As Delaney turned to leave, he'd placed a hand as big as a bear paw on her forearm and said, "Rest assured I gave those boys a real talking-to and told them to show up at the fire station to help clean equipment every Saturday for a month."
Sergeant Wilson stood well over six feet tall, with Hulk Hogan arms and size thirteen feet-an intimidating figure even to most adults. So by virtue of the police officer's stature alone, Delaney had the satisfaction of knowing the boys hadn't escaped unpunished.
Hands on hips, Delaney fixed her gaze on Flo. She should have known better than to have signed on with Flo's real estate company in the first place. Calamity accompanied Flo in most of her endeavors. A trait her twin boys had inherited in spades. It wasn't the first time Sergeant Wilson had to deal with the Reading boys, but hopefully the last.
Flo's gaze deserted Delaney's and sought out a woman in the crowd with two young children in tow and smiled in a conspiratorial manner before beginning with, "Boys will be boys, you know."
Delaney felt her jaw tighten. Flo's boys? More like little demons in matching Gap outfits.
"Completely by accident, they set a teeny little fire in your kitchen while I was showing your house to the Johnson family.
You know, ever since Sid ran off with that floozy from Tay Valley, I've pretty much had to take the kids with me everywhere. I left the boys playing in your kitchen while I showed your house again to the Johnsons-you know, the young couple I found who plan on renting it while you're overseas. They'd called earlier and asked if they could come in and measure for curtains. They absolutely hate blinds of any kind and had found some material on sale"
"Flo, the fire" Tears born of fear and frustration welled behind Delaney's eyes, and she blinked rapidly. "Is everything burnt?"
"Oh, no. Nothing like that. Apparently, Teddy and Freddy lit just for fun, you know-a wee fire in a metal wastebasket. You see, last night at the Pioneer Club, all the children received flint stones. The whole troupe is going camping over on Osprey Island this weekend and you know my boys," Flo beamed proudly and drew a breath, "they so wanted to impress the leader with their fire-making skills."
"So, it's minor then. The damage is confined to the wastebasket?" Delaney said, biting back a nasty comeback relating to the deviant behavior of her neighbor's young sons. Flo had a blind spot the size of Montreal when it came to her twin boys.
"Well, there is a bit of smoke damage, but don't worry," she said, "I know a company over in Tay Valley that specializes in sanitizing fire sites. And when I got my real estate license I took out insurance to cover.... problems like this." She wrinkled her long, narrow nose and leaned in closer to whisper, "They'll steam that nasty smell right out of your walls and furniture. Your home will be as good as new when they're done. No one will ever know."
Delaney raised her eyes and without moving her head, allowed her gaze to rove the crowded room, "I think that ship has sailed, Flo"
"Just wait until you hear the good news, Delaney. The Johnsons have agreed to honor the lease-after I assured them the house would be in move-in condition soon. They said they didn't mind waiting the two extra weeks"
"Two weeks!" Delaney's hands clenched into fists and she stepped closer to Flo's glowing face. "I'm moving into a ridiculously overpriced studio apartment in Paris in four days. If I don't show up, the woman I'm sharing it with will rent my half of the room to someone else-in a heartbeat. It's the Rue de Vaugirard for heaven's sake" Now she was nose-to-nose with Flo. "I need that rent deposit now, not in two weeks."
"Oh, that's just not possible, dear," Flo said matterof-factly. "They won't pay until the cleanup is finished."
Delaney felt a weight settle on her left shoulder and a warm breath sweep across the nape of her neck. "Maybe I can help?"
Why was he still here? Delaney whirled to face Trey. "Unless you've got a steam machine in the backseat of your Porsche, I doubt that very much"
"Sorry, no. But I do have a whole floor of empty suites at the Nirvana, if that helps at all." Trey's sympathetic smile only served to further infuriate her.
Didn't
anybody get it? She'd been so close to freedom. Her passport was in her purse. Three weeks ago she'd sold her hairdressing supplies and client list to Flo's cousin, Anna. That money disappeared with the purchase of a new high-efficiency furnace and a red steel roof for 31 Lilac Lane. She couldn't expect anyone to rent her house without making some long-overdue updates. The money from the art auction was earmarked to pay off her credit cards. She intended to leave for Paris with a clean slate.
She no longer had a job in this town and, thanks to Flo's little firebugs, no place to live. The last thing she could afford was an extended stay at the luxurious Nirvana Hotel.
"Nonsense, Delaney. What are neighbors for? You'll stay with me. I've loads of room," Flo interjected, shooting Trey a look laden with skepticism. "I'll just move my sewing machine and the boys' hockey equipment out of the spare room. No need at all to compromise your reputation."
The room swirled and Delaney reached for the back of the barber's chair and stared sightlessly at the tiled floor. Where's Lily when I need her the most? Off honeymooning with her handsome husband, Delaney thought, momentarily mired in self-pity. As if those short e-mails that popped up in her in-box every few days could replace their long talks over coffee and Timbits.
"It's settled then," Flo said, obviously taking Delaney's silence for agreement. "I'll go ahead home and you come along when you're ready. Oooh, it'll be fun, Delaney. Like a two-week slumber parry"
The wind chimes tinkled and the suffocating scent of jasmine faded and Delaney knew Flo was gone. Delaney straightened and turned to face the crowd. Somehow the whole room had suddenly emptied out.
"I'll tally up and give you a call over at Flo's later," Artie called out and hurried out to the sidewalk to collect his sandwich-board signs.
She waved weakly to his departing back and turned to survey the bare walls. Trey's tall frame, silhouetted by the sun, loomed large against the creamy colored walls. She jumped and pressed her open palm over her racing heart. "You nearly scared me to death"
"Sorry. I didn't want to go without making myself clear." He stepped closer and smiled. "I wasn't trying to drum up business or suggest anything er.... inappropriate when I suggested you stay at the Nirvana."
"Oh" She wished he would just leave her alone, but he actually did sound sincere. Plus, she didn't want to be rude to Lily and Ethan's friend.
"Look, if Lily and Ethan were around, you know they'd offer you a free room at the Nirvana, right?"
"Well, I suppose they might."
"And I've already made you a legitimate job offerwhich included a free suite," he reminded her. "It's not Paris, but the Nirvana's got a killer hot tub"
Delaney was torn.
She had no doubt that two weeks with Flo and the twins would be a nightmare of epic proportions. But on the other hand, she'd be right next door to her own house. Daily proximity and diligent supervision might motivate the cleanup crew to finish the job faster. And as much as she hated to admit it, living over at the Nirvana would send the gossip mill into overdrive. Her mother's friends had taken on a proprietary, maternal role ever since her parents had left town. In fact, one of them could be dialing her parents at that very moment, denying her the opportunity to break the upsetting news herself.
But on the other hand, she was twenty-seven years old. An adult. Her eyes locked with Trey's baby blues. His twofold offer had its own merit: private, posh accommodation and a dream job with a hefty income. Downside: his irresistible smile and boyish charm. A girl could get sidetracked, lose her focus. Maybe be persuaded to put Paris on hold for longer than it took to clean up her house.
"Thank you, Trey. But no," Delaney said. "I'm betting on the sanitation crew. If things go my way, I'll be sipping cafe au lait in a little Parisian cafe in less than two weeks" Her optimistic tone sounded forced even to her own ears, but she'd come too far to let her dream slip away now.
"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying," he said, his tone not as light as the cliche demanded. He pulled his card from his shirt pocket. "Take this. In case you change your mind."
Halfway to the door he turned and flashed a smile. "You know, we have a lot in common, Delaney. I bet you love fine food" She bobbed her head in response. "How about dinner on the hotel's Trillium Terrace later this week? Just dinner, I promise"
Delaney sighed. Ken-doll obviously wasn't used to rejection from the ladies. She took another look and sighed again. He was like a long, cold drink to a woman living in a drought of datable men. And actually they did have some things in common. What harm could one little date possibly do?
"DBlaney, do you wanna play hide-and-seek again?" Freddy said, torpedoing his body across her narrow cot and cracking into the wall. "I promise not to forget to look for you this time."
"Sorry, Freddy, I told you once already about my date tonight. I need to get ready now." She looked pointedly toward the door and silently began to count to ten. Give me patience, she pleaded to the heavens. His brother had asked the same question five minutes ago while dribbling grape juice on the suede jacket she'd placed so carefully out on the bed.
"Can we come with you? Mom won't take us to real restaurants. Only the kind where you gotta stay in the car when you eat"
"No can do," she said, whirling to face the tallest of the six-year-old twins. "It's a grown-up kind of place. Boring. You'd hate it." And so would the Nirvana's unsuspecting guests. She averted her eyes from a crestfallen face sprinkled with freckles, complete with a missing front tooth and wondered how full-time parents ever managed to escape on their own.
She checked her look in the mirror. The loose-cut silky pants and matching sleeveless top would do just fine for a dinner on the Nirvana's terrace. Freddy's hamster had peed on her first choice, a cute little halter sundress.
Soon the machine gun din coming from the boys' room assured her they were now engrossed in a video game, and she turned to touch up her lipstick.
Was that the phone? She found herself holding her breath as she listened for a second ring. Oh please, don't be Trey canceling our date. With no job to go to, she'd been trapped in Flo's crazy household for five long days.
Ever since she'd dragged her aching body from the lumpy cot this morning, she'd been fantasizing about sipping Brazilian coffee on the Trillium Terrance with Loon Lake lapping against the rocky shore. The setting sun would warm the air and lend a flattering hue to her skin as she and Trey shared sophisticated banter. And there would not be one single dollop of Cheez Whiz gracing her plate.
"It's for you, Delaney," Teddy yelled, and tossed the cordless phone in the general direction of her bed before racing back to his game. "It's Mommy"
Delaney extracted the sticky receiver from the waste bin and spoke briskly into the phone while she headed for the stairs. She padded downstairs to the kitchen. "Flo. What's up?"
"Now, I know tonight is your big night out. Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of asking you to look after the boys a minute longer than necessary," Flo said. "I'll be home in a jiffy." Flo's real estate business kept her out most evenings.
So why was she calling, Delaney wondered, detecting a nervous quiver in Flo's voice.
"Have you been watching the news on television, Delaney?"
"No, you know the twins guard that remote like a couple of miniature Brinks security guards. We watched three hours of robot things smashing other robots to bits."
"There was an explosion in the boiler room over at Tay Valley Hospital. Apparently smoke billowed out through all the vents"
The sound of her own heartbeat filled her ears, and Delaney sunk into one the chrome chairs circling the kitchen table. She knew Marjorie from 3rd Street had been admitted yesterday with gallbladder trouble, and Herb from the post office was in for his angina again.
"Nobody hurt, thank goodness. The fire department evacuated the patients to the nursing home for the time being."
Delaney's pattering heart slowed to its normal rate. It could have been so much worse. Pride in the local volunteer fir
efighters welled in her heart. Before retiring to Calgary, her father had often jumped from the dinner table when the fire bells pealed, leaving them to wonder and worry.
"Thanks for letting me know," Delaney said, snatching a box of Flo's hair dye from Teddy's grasp. "I'll check with the hospital tomorrow and see if there's anything I can do to help" At last, a valid reason to spend a day away from 33 Lilac Lane.
"Your mother brought you up right, dear friend," Flo said, her voice quaking. "And you're so good to my little angels"
A pang of guilt reddened Delaney's face as she remembered how frequently she'd wanted to throttle the twins this week.
"Anyway, I'll just make a quick call to the cleanup crew over at your house, and then I'll be right home. Toodles"
"Perfect" Delaney clicked the phone off and walked to the curtained window facing her small clapboard house.
Through the haze of Irish lace, the branches of an old maple tree cast its shadow in long, purplish fingers that stretched across the side yard like spilled grape juice. A clump of overgrown lilacs, its mauve blooms hanging heavy from an early afternoon sun shower, caught and held the sun in sparkling droplets.
Delaney dropped her head to the side and considered the possibilities. A small canvas for sure, with the house muted, almost blurry, and let the ancient maple tell the story. It was here first after all. Her fingers twitched at her sides and she acknowledged the need. Soon, she reminded herself, soon. She'd given up painting four years ago to pursue a more practical and less egodamaging career, but the decision had never been fully sanctioned by her heart.
Parting the lace curtains with a finger, she watched workmen, in white one-piece overalls, trek back and forth from the side door to a huge work truck. Like a well-oiled machine they loaded vacuum hoses, pails, and crates.
Delaney narrowed her eyes to better focus and sucked in a breath. They'd never loaded up their equipment at the end of the day before. She pressed her nose closer to the glass. Yes, they were definitely clearing everything out. Were they finished?