“You need his opinion?” Val screeched. “He’s never done a home project in his life!”
The two guys went ahead, but Brock stayed back for a moment. “Come on, sis, let them do their thing,” he said, one hand on her shoulder. “They may be a little rough around the edges, but these are good guys. Mario needs the work. He’s got a house out on Heartbreak Island . . . kind of a wreck I sold him to fix up. He’s been watching these house flipping shows and thinks he can make a million.” He chuckled. “Nobody else wanted that shack.”
Jaymie stifled a sigh. That was Brock taking advantage of a dimwit, it seemed to her. But then, she had never liked her best friend’s brother, and it didn’t seem likely she would any time soon.
“Kory lives with them, pays room and board,” Brock explained. “It helps them make the mortgage; Mario’s girlfriend . . . fiancée, whatever you want to call her . . . Hallie, is real pregnant, ready to pop any day. And Kory . . . he got out of jail a coupla months ago after a coupla months in, and he’s having trouble finding work.” He perhaps realized these were not reassuring reasons his sister should hire them and put his palms together in a prayerful plea. “Val, I promise they’ll do a good job. I’ll guarantee their work myself.”
“You’ll guarantee their work? Have you had them do work on your house? You need the roof redone and the ceiling in the back entrance fixed.”
“I . . . I’ve got someone else already to work on it.”
“How reassuring,” Val said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nice that you’re trying to pawn them off on me, but you won’t let them work on your own house.”
Jaymie touched her arm. “Don’t worry about it,” she said softly to her friend. “You know you’re not going to hire them. As much as you want to tear them a new one, let them do what they want to do and go away.” Louder she said, “Do you have something to drink, Val? I’m dying of thirst.”
Brock followed the other men outside, and Val led the way into the kitchen and got out a pitcher of iced tea. She grumbled for a moment, but then asked how Jaymie was doing with her husband and daughter gone.
“I’m okay, I guess. I miss them already,” she said, sitting down at the vintage dinette table and propping her chin on her hand. “But the gang is coming tomorrow, so I’ve got that to look forward to.” She reiterated who all was coming, and told her friend about the trailer and how it looked in its new spot.
Ten minutes later Val looked up at the kitchen clock, a vintage cutie of a black cat with a swinging tail for a pendulum, eyes that went back and forth ticking off the seconds, and a belly filled with a white-faced clock. Valetta and Jaymie shared a love of thrift stores and vintage tchotchkes. “What the heck are they doing out there? Let’s go out and see.” She led the way out the back door. They could hear the men’s voices. “Hush, wait a sec,” Val said, holding up one hand.
Jaymie stopped. The rain had dwindled to nothing, leaving the air more muggy, like breathing through a wet cloth. She brushed the rain off a patio chair and sat down, sipping her iced tea and holding her thick ponytail off her sweating neck. The men’s voices became clearer, as if they had moved. Brock was complaining about Val, and they all laughed over her sketch.
But it seemed that the conversation swiftly moved on to women, as they lounged and talked. The sweet drift of pot smoke came around the corner, Val wrinkling her nose. Brock protested, but Mario fluffed him off.
“Come on, man, it’s a little weed to take the edge off. I have an old injury that gives me pain and this helps. I can’t do it at home. Hallie says I can’t smoke anything around her now and even after the baby is born.” He sounded disgusted.
“Can’t blame her,” Brock mumbled.
“Women, can’t live with them, can’t knock them around,” Mario said and laughed. The other two didn’t laugh. “Guys, it was a joke. No one can take a friggin’ joke anymore. Damn PC world.”
“What’s a joke is how many women you’ve got hanging on online,” Kory said.
“Online? You’re doing online dating?” Brock said. “But you’ve got a girlfriend at home.”
“It’s harmless,” Mario said. “A little fun. Hallie’s been busting my nads lately and don’t want to do anything. You know what I mean? No loving at all. Total witch mode. A little online flirting makes it all better, you know?”
Jaymie and Valetta exchanged eyebrow-raised looks.
“So it’s just flirting?” Brock asked.
“Mebbe a little more than flirting. Hey, what the old lady don’t know can’t hurt her, right?”
Valetta and Jaymie exchanged incredulous looks.
“I guess online you can be anyone you want, right?” Brock said.
“Yeah, he can be a stud. You can be as jacked as you want online,” Kory said snidely.
“Shut up, jerk,” Mario said. “You’re jealous of the action I get. Women are looking for it big-time.”
“Yeah, well, they can’t see you online, can they?” Kory shot back.
Jaymie smiled. Kory had seemed quiet, but maybe that was just around women.
“You’re a jealous toad, Kory. Online is where it starts,” Mario said. “Flatter ’em enough and they’ll do anything. I got this one chick, she’s a fiery redhead . . . I call her Big Red. We’ve hooked up a coupla times in real life. They call that IRL, you know that? In Real Life. Like, hot motel fun. I got another woman coming on strong . . . might have to make a date with her soon. You should see the pics she sends me! Whoo-wee! Hot stuff. And then there is this other gal who is coming from out of state for a little Mario action. With all this going on, I might have to tell Hallie to take a hike. Big Red could move right into the house.”
“That’s disgusting,” Jaymie whispered to Val.
“You can’t do that to Hallie!” Kory objected.
“I can do anything I want,” Mario said. “She can go live with her mother.”
“But she’s carrying your child,” Brock said, his tone shocked.
“Is she?” Mario grunted. “Is she really? How do I know that for sure?”
There was deadly silence for a moment. Jaymie, shocked, shook her head.
“I’ve had enough,” Val said. Raising her voice, she continued, “If you guys are done bragging and lying you can finish up and leave. I’ve got things to do.”
Mario and Kory came back in and clumped through the house, heading to the front door. “I’ll get you an estimate once I go to the lumber supply and figure out supplies and time,” Mario said.
“Don’t bother,” Val said coldly. “I’ll find someone else.”
Mario whirled and glared, swearing gruffly. “You mean I was wasting my time and you already decided?”
“It sounds like you’re good at wasting time,” Val snapped. The two exited and she slammed the door after them, then turned to glare at her brother.
Brock shuffled his feet. He looked embarrassed, knowing they’d been overheard, but all he said was, “Come on, Val, boys will be boys, you know? A little locker room talk.”
“Then you all can leave it in the locker room.”
“I know it was not meant for a lady’s ears, but—”
“That was meant for no one’s ears, Brock,” Jaymie said. “And you know it. Even Kory seemed ashamed of Mario. He’s a cheat, and if he’ll cheat on his woman, he’ll cheat on the job. Besides, who wants a guy like that working on their house?”
“I get it. I do, Val; I understand. I gotta go. I have a house showing in an hour.” He paused and turned. “I went to school with Mario. I feel kind of sorry for him. You know?”
“But not sorry enough that you’ll have him work on your own home.”
Brock nodded. “Point taken. I have to go, sis. Talk to you later.”
Val sighed when he was gone. Jaymie gave her a look, but she shrugged. “What can I do? He’s my brother.”
Three
The cottage was clean, organized and ready. Jaymie sat on the front porch with Hoppy, looking through the pines
at the silvery river slipping past, awaiting her friends. From a damp start the day had dried out. It was hot but comfortable. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the damp sand, the fishy scent of the river, and woodsmoke from somewhere. And someone was grilling hamburgers; the aroma wafted through the trees, maybe even from the Ice House restaurant, not too far away.
She was nervous, and she wasn’t sure why. There were and always had been tensions among her friends, tensions she had glossed over while planning this vacation. Wasn’t that a fact of life in any group of individuals? It certainly was in the parent group she belonged to at Jocie’s school. She and her friends had kept the timing loose, agreeing to at least a week together, maybe ten days. That had seemed a good idea at the time, but maybe it would have been better if they had nailed it down more precisely. Jakob and Jocie would be gone ten days, and it would be nice to have a day or two to get the cottage back into shape before they came home. Once her family was complete again, she knew she’d want to spend all her time with them both before school started back after Labor Day.
She looked at the time on her cell phone. Brandi had texted that they were almost there and the ferry was scheduled to arrive soon. “C’mon, Hoppy, let’s go meet the girls.” She snapped his leash on and followed the road down along the row of pines to where it opened out, overlooking the marina and ferry dock. She shaded her eyes and saw that the ferry was arriving, so she sped up her pace. Hoppy danced in his wobbly tripod manner and yipped as seagulls, following the ferry, circled and lit on a bench by the dock.
The ferry lowered the ramp that allowed cars to drive onto the island. The other ramp extended to the wharf for walking passengers. Jaymie kept watch and there . . . there was Brandi! Her friend was unmistakable: tall, lean, with spiral curled stiff hair that was emblazoned with mahogany and maroon tints that the sun burnished to a bright magenta. She was five seven—five nine in platform sandals—and wearing the shortest shorts anyone could wear, little more than a bathing suit bottom. She stalked along the dock tugging a wheeled suitcase with one hand, holding a floppy sunhat in the other, and with a huge hobo sack purse slung over one arm. Other arrivers trailed, but Jaymie didn’t see anyone else she knew. Gabriela, who was driving with her, must be coming over on the next ferry for some reason.
“Over here!” Jaymie said, waving. Her hazel eyes concealed by huge designer sunglasses, Brandi waved her sunhat back. Jaymie trotted to her and flung herself at her friend; the two women hugged, laughing. When she released her she noticed another woman standing close by, similar suitcase to Brandi’s standing on its wheels, similar sunhat in hand, similar sunglasses on.
“Jaymie, this is Court—Courtney—my best friend in the world.” She tugged the woman close and slung her arm over her shoulders.
Brandi clearly intended Courtney to stay with them, but . . . she was a stranger. “I’ve never . . . you didn’t . . . hello, Courtney,” Jaymie said, dismayed and trying to hide it. She offered a hand and the woman took it, squeezed, then released it. Jaymie turned back to her friend. “Where’s Gabriela? I thought she was coming with you?”
Courtney crouched and played with Hoppy, cooing over him and tickling his tummy. Brandi whipped off her sunglasses and rolled her eyes. “Oh, she did, all right, but she forgot half her stuff at home. I let her use the car. She went into town to get sunblock and other stuff at that cute little store you always talk about, the Emporium. She’ll park in the long-term parking lot up there and come out on the next ferry.” Jaymie had asked them all to leave their cars in the parking lot, as island residents were discouraged from bringing vehicles over. It was largely unnecessary except for folks with limited mobility, who were issued a parking pass for anywhere on the island.
“Let’s go to the cottage and get you both settled, then I’ll come back and meet her here.”
“Lead on, MacDuff; didn’t our English prof say that?”
“No, he said it was a misquote from Macbeth, that it’s supposed to be ‘Lay on, MacDuff,’” Jaymie said. “And it means kind of the opposite, instead of leading the way it is an invitation to fight harder. Come on, Hoppy, no barking at seagulls.”
Brandi snorted. “Aren’t you a font of information.”
Fount, Jaymie thought but did not say. When Courtney lagged behind a bit, taking pictures with her cell phone of the line of pines along the road and the cottages beyond, Jaymie muttered, glancing at her friend, “Brandi, you didn’t tell me you were bringing someone else. This was supposed to be a gathering of college friends!”
“What, I can’t bring a friend on my vacation?” Brandi said loudly.
“Shh, Bran!” Jaymie yelped, glancing back at Courtney, who was rapidly gaining on them.
“Cripes, I didn’t think I had to ask to bring along a friend, Mom,” Brandi said, still loudly, with an exaggerated sigh.
“It’s okay! It’s all right, of course!” Jaymie said hastily. “Room enough for everyone!” she added, trying to make her tone happy and welcoming. She didn’t want the other woman to feel like an intruder. As usual, Brandi got her way by making it awkward if she didn’t.
At the cottage Jaymie showed them around and helped them choose a room. There were two bedrooms, the sunny yellow one with two double beds, and a pale-blue-painted bedroom with a double bed and a set of bunk beds. She then showed them the bathroom—no shower stall, just a claw-foot tub with a shower over the top, a stand-alone pedestal sink, and the toilet—and supplied towels. Standing and chatting as she watched Brandi and Courtney unpack, stowing their clothes in the big chest of drawers and spreading their toiletries on the dresser top, Jaymie glanced down at her cell phone.
“Eek . . . the time! The next ferry is due! I’ll go meet Gabriela while you two get settled,” she said and escaped with Hoppy.
Despite saying the ferry was due, Jaymie was going to be early, but she needed a few moments alone. She sat on the top of the park bench listening to the cicadas buzz, watching the water slip past, and gazing across the river at the Queensville wharf, where the ferry was loading. She let her gaze rise above it, along the walkway that topped a long riverside park where annual Fourth of July celebrations were held, so folks on both sides of the river could watch fireworks erupt from a barge stationed in the middle of the river. Nearby was a row of ramshackle buildings, among them a marina shop and a bait shop; there was still much discussion about the fate of those structures. The owner, Miss Perry, was in no hurry to change the status quo. The shops had always been there, and likely always would be.
She felt a thread of unease that she hadn’t acknowledged fully until now. Her nervousness about this vacation had been a frisson creeping down her spine; now it was, for some reason, blooming. It had been a few years since the group of university friends had managed their annual vacation. Maybe they had all changed too much to spend so much time together. Maybe they should have made it a weekend instead of a week or more. She rolled her shoulders, willing the anxiety away.
It was loneliness, she diagnosed. She missed Jakob and Jocie so much it hurt. She had cried herself to sleep the night before. Jakob had only had time enough to send her a text when they arrived, and a couple of photos of them and Jocie’s mother’s family. They were busy, and Jaymie was pleased that it looked like they were having fun. The primary reason for the trip was so Jocie could get to know her mother’s family, but it wouldn’t be a vacation without things to do. They were going with Jocie’s Polish cousins to visit Malbork Castle, the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum (if it was appropriate for Jocie’s age; that had not been settled yet), and a nature preserve in the mountains. They’d daytrip to Warsaw and Gdansk, but there were days set aside for visiting, relaxing, picnicking and shopping, too. Jaymie hoped they had fun, and couldn’t wait for them to come home.
But her mind returned to her own vacation. Why did Brandi find it necessary to bring along someone no one knew? She didn’t want to be mean, but Jaymie had been imagining a celebration of their long friendships, slipping into th
e easy rhythms they had experienced when they were all twenty-year-old (or in the case of Melody Heath, mid-twenties) college kids away from home, eating ramen, drinking cheap beer, and staying up all night studying, playing board games and laughing together.
But Brandi wasn’t her only friend. She was closer with the others. The sun was high in the sky, and Jaymie took a deep breath, determinedly making herself cheer up. Maybe Courtney would blend in. Maybe she was an awesome person who would be the highlight of the vacation.
She dialed Valetta as she climbed down from the bench to let Hoppy sniff a clump of weeds and wobble as he lifted his leg to piddle.
“Hey, Jaymie . . . what’s up?”
“Nothing much; waiting for more of my friends to arrive on the ferry.” She swept her bangs out of her eyes, the wind tossing them right back in. “Just checking to make sure we’re still on for the dinner cruise . . . and maybe Grand Bend, too, tomorrow? Bernie and Heidi are coming,” she said, of two Queensville friends. Heidi, an heiress originally from New York but with strong ancestral ties to their town, and Bernie, who had moved to Queensville when she took a position as an officer with the police department, were best friends and had become close with Jaymie, too. She had felt a little guilty inviting them, given that it was supposed to be just the school friends, but it wasn’t as if they were staying with them, as Courtney would be. Or at least that’s how she justified it to herself, she realized with a wince. Maybe she had been hypocritical to object to Brandi’s friend, she thought, resolving to get to know the woman.
Valetta agreed to both proposals. “Hey, instead of taking separate cars, I know a guy who will loan me his nine-passenger van. We could all cross into Canada together! I’ll drive.”
“That sounds like a good plan, Val.”
“Okay. Done.” Val chattered on about her desperate search for a Jane-of-all-trades who would be easier to work with than the Neanderthal twins, as she called them, Mario and his buddy Kory-with-a-K. Jaymie commiserated, and made suggestions, the easy back-and-forth flow of conversation soothing.
Cast Iron Alibi Page 3