The Tick-Tock Between You and Me

by Kristy Tate

  “Grandpa Bern hates to part with anything,” Cecelia said. “It’s the Depression-era thinking he inherited from his parents.”

  Darby maneuvered through the towers of boxes and stopped in front of a dress form. Her gaze travelled to a stack of National Geographic magazines. The top one was dated January 7, 1952. “Wow. I bet these are worth something…”

  “But what can we do?” Cecelia maneuvered past Darby to a suitcase. “It’s Grandpa’s stuff, not ours.”

  Darby considered this as she watched Cecelia pop open the suitcase and rummage through it. Moments later, she pulled out a blue and white checked one-piece bathing suit. “Too old-fashioned?”

  Darby grinned. “No, it’s super cute! Let’s see what else is in there!”

  Cecelia matched her smile. She sat in front of the suitcase and began unfurling one dress after another, reading off the labels. “Coco Chanel, Christian Dior, Pierre Balmain. These have to be worth a fortune.”

  Darby plopped down beside her and folded each article of clothing as an idea came to her. “I bet your grandfather will give you these clothes.”

  “I’m sure he would.” Cecelia gazed at a fur wrap in her fingers.

  “So, you should sell them online.”

  “Really?” Cecelia turned her large green eyes on Darby.

  “Absolutely. They’re only rotting away up here.” Darby thought back to the consignment shop she had gone to with Benji. “And I’m sure if you did some research on vintage clothing you could make a killing.”

  “I think you’re right!” Cecelia gave a happy laugh. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

  “Are you sure you want me to wear this?” Darby held up the bathing suit.

  “Consider it a finder’s fee.” Cecelia elbowed Darby. “Come on, it’s hot and stuffy up here. Help me take all this to my room.”

  #

  After a couple of hours sifting through Grandma Rose’s wardrobe, Darby’s nose itched from all the dust. She had wanted to talk about Chad but didn’t want to sound nosey. Fortunately, Cecelia wanted to talk about him, too.

  “He started dating Jessica after Mom died,” Cecelia said. “I thought that maybe they’d break up when they went to different colleges, but no…”

  “Um, you sound disappointed?”

  Cecelia shrugged and held up a dress worthy of Jackie O. “Not really. I mean, if he likes her...”

  “Is there a reason he shouldn’t?” Darby tried to sound casual.

  “She’s just not right from him. She’s beige. Does that make sense? It’s not that she’s evil, awful, or mean. He needs someone colorful—someone who adds to his life, not make it duller.”

  “Duller?” Darby asked.

  “It’s so sad. He’s young, super-hot, and he’s just stuck here looking out for Grandpa.” She took a pair of leopard print pants and hung them on a hanger. “The thing is—as much as he dislikes Elaine—he picked someone just like her.”

  “What happened to your mom?” Darby asked.

  “Lung cancer. Which doesn’t even make sense, because she never smoked a day in her life.” Cecelia toyed with a sweater’s loose string. “I was only nine, but Chad was seventeen.” She wrinkled her nose and tossed the sweater into the donation pile. “I can’t really remember when Mom wasn’t sick, but Chad…I think it was harder on him because he remembers when she was healthy and fun.”

  A knock on the door interrupted her.

  “Come in,” Cecelia called.

  Jessica poked her head around the door. “I thought we were going to the pool?”

  “Yeah, I guess we got distracted.” Jessica glanced at the pile of clothes they had gathered on her bed.

  “What’s all this?” Jessica asked, stepping into the room. She still wore her strappy red sandals, but a black string bikini had replaced her New Occult Jeans and black blouse.

  Darby would look like a nun beside her in the blue and white checked one-piece.

  Cecelia explained their plan for the clothes.

  Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know why you bother. You know that as soon as Bern dies your dad is going to plow this place into a subdivision. Money won’t be tight anymore.”

  “I don’t think that can happen,” Darby said. “There’s a building moratorium in Santa Barbara county.”

  Jessica shrugged. “Well, then Elaine will get her way.”

  “And what’s that?” Darby asked.

  “You don’t know?” Jessica cocked an eyebrow, feigning surprise, but looking secretly pleased at being in the know. “A hotel!”

  “Let’s go to the pool,” Cecelia said, obviously eager to change the subject. “Are you sure you don’t mind this old thing?” She held up the one-piece.

  Jessica laughed, but it sounded mean and reminded Darby of an eighth-grade bully, Bitsy Morris, who liked to shame the girls at their school who dared to wear Walmart brands or second-hand clothes. “You’re not going to wear that, are you?”

  “Sure. It’s cute. And more importantly, it’ll probably fit.” Darby plucked the suit from Cecelia’s fingers and strode into the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. Way back in eighth grade when she had to wear her sister’s hand-me-downs, she’d stood up to Bitsy Morris.

  She could take on Jessica, too.

  #

  After the long and boring staff meeting at the school, Chad steered his truck toward home. His heart lifted as it always did when he passed through the ranch’s gates. The air smelled sweet and reminded him of long ago summers when he was a kid and summer had meant horseback riding, watermelon seed spitting contests, and sand between his toes.

  He pulled his truck into the garage and shut off the engine. He caught the sound of voices floating through the open door and he followed.

  Darby, Cecelia, Jessica, and Sally were stretched out on lounges near the pool. He smiled when he saw Darby’s bathing suit. With her dark curly hair caught up in a ponytail, she looked like she belonged in a 1950’s advertisement.

  Sally, Maria and Paco’s plump teenaged daughter, also wore a one piece, but the speedo looked totally different on her.

  Darby said something to Sally, but Sally just nodded and smiled in reply.

  “Don’t bother,” Jessica said to Darby. “She doesn’t speak English.”

  Chad frowned at the lie.

  “Just ignore her and you two will get along fine,” Jessica said. “I don’t know why Bern allows her to swim here, but it’s not my pool.” Her voice said that if or when it was her pool, things would be different.

  Sally reached into a cooler, pulled out a bottled water, and handed it to Darby with a smile.

  “Gracias,” Darby said.

  Chad paused behind a shrub, knowing it was wrong to eavesdrop, but not being able to help himself.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually wearing that suit.” Jessica smirked and lowered her sunglasses so she could give Darby a dismissive glance.

  “I like it.” Darby settled back against the lounge. “This whole place is magical. It’s like there’s a million hidden gems here. This bathing suit is just a small piece of the magic.”

  Jessica twisted her lips. “You’re right.” Her tone sounded as if this didn’t make her happy. “The ranch has a lot of potential, but it desperately needs an overhaul.”

  Overhaul?

  “I think it’s charming,” Darby said.

  Jessica shuddered. “Well, I could see how you would think that. But it doesn’t matter. As I said, everything will change as soon as Elaine gets her hands on this place.”

  “Do you think that’s going to happen?” Darby asked.

  Jessica took off her sunglasses again to get a better look at Darby. She scowled as if she didn’t like what she saw. “It has to,” Jessica said in a hard voice. “Bern fails to see the entrepreneurial potential of this property! If they turned Rancho de Rio into a five-star hotel—or even a day spa—it would start making money instead of bleeding it!”

  “A day spa?” Darb
y echoed, as if she hasn’t heard the phrase before.

  “The outbuildings would be perfect for massage therapy, or acupuncture, and hydrotherapy rooms.” Her voice lit with enthusiasm. “And the plastic surgery recovery industry is booming! The ranch is the perfect hideout, if you don’t mind the isolation.”

  “There’s outbuildings?” Darby sat up as if trying to spot one.

  Chad decided he needed to show Darby around the ranch. Immediately. And alone. But first, he would need to find a way to get her—and himself—away from Jessica.

  #

  Cecelia led Darby through a path of twisted oaks to a two-story building adjacent to the stables. Darby’s bathing suit was still damp from her time in the pool and the breeze cutting through the shady oaks chilled her.

  “You could stay in the house, if you like,” Cecelia said over her shoulder, “but it’s more private out here.”

  “What is this place?” Darby followed Cecelia through the door of the stucco building.

  “It’s the old bunkhouse,” Cecelia told her as she walked into the center of a long room with half a dozen bunkbeds lining the white plaster walls. Their footsteps on the wide-planked wooden floor echoed through the empty space. “Chad lives out here.” She cocked her head at Darby. “That won’t be a problem for you, will it? I mean, the two of you probably won’t even see each other. He has the manager’s old room with a private bath.” She paused. “I’ll bring you some clean sheets.”

  “Is Jessica staying out here, too?”

  “No. Bern is terribly old-fashioned so Jessica has to stay in the house while, as I said, Chad stays out here. I don’t think Bern will mind if you’re out here, though,” Cecelia said as if the thought of Darby and Chad’s relationship being anything other than platonic were ridiculous.

  Darby caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and thought maybe Cecelia was right. In the blue and white one-piece bathing suit, she looked like a reject from an Annette Funicello beach party movie. She’d be ridiculous to think that Chad would be interested in her.

  “Dinner is at six,” Cecelia told her. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if Grandpa is up and looking for you before then. If I were you, I’d get changed and wait for him in his study.”

  After Cecelia left, Darby hung up her few clothes and took a quick shower. She was just twisting up her hair into a loose knot when someone knocked on her door. She glanced out the window to see Chad standing just outside. He wore khaki pants, a navy polo shirt with the Canterbury emblem on the pocket, and an unsure expression.

  “Hey,” Chad said. “I heard we were bunkmates. I thought…maybe you’d like a tour of the ranch.” He seemed nervous, his face flushed, and she had a hard time reading him.

  Just like she’d had a hard time reading Benji. Her man-reading skills were sadly lacking.

  “I’d love that,” she said.

  He glanced down at her pants. “I’m glad you changed out of your skirt.”

  “Should I change my shoes?” she asked, looking at her ballet flats.

  “Do you have sneakers?”

  “I do. Do you mind waiting?”

  He shook his head, came inside and closed the door in a hurry, as if he didn’t want to be caught doing something illicit.

  Darby pulled her sneakers and a pair of socks from her bag, sat down on the closest lower bunk, and put on the shoes. “I always bring my running clothes when I stay anywhere overnight,” she told him.

  “Me, too,” he said. “Or at least I would if I ever went anywhere.” He sat beside her and the mattress shifted beneath his weight.

  “You don’t like to travel?” She tied her laces without looking at him, afraid her expression would betray the emotions that his nearness sparked.

  “I do, but I’ve been homebound since…Well, I don’t like to leave Grandpa. He’ll say that we need to stay and take care of the horses, but we do have Paco and Maria here.”

  She schooled her nerves and studied him for a moment. She liked what she saw.

  “Paco and Maria live at the gatehouse which is a quarter of a mile away,” he explained. “From my room, I can see Grandpa’s bedroom window. If he needs me, he flashes his light on and off.”

  “You could get him a cell phone.” His compassion touched Darby.

  “He has one, but he doesn’t use it often enough to remember how it works.” Chad bit his lip.

  Darby stood and Chad followed her.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around.” He crossed the room and held the door open for her.

  Darby motioned at the house. “Shouldn’t we check in with your grandfather? Maybe he’s ready to go over his books.”

  Chad cast a quick glance at the house. “When I last looked a few minutes ago, Grandpa was snoring on his bed, but if it makes you feel better, we can take a peek.” He led her down an ivy lined path to the side of the hacienda and motioned at an open window.

  Darby glanced in the window and saw Bern lying on his bed wearing nothing but a pair of red and blue plaid boxers and black knee-high socks. He had his eyes closed and his breath whistled through his nose.

  “I guess we’re good,” she whispered.

  “Yes, you are,” Chad said, heading back down the path.

  Had he meant to say that? Was it a Freudian slip? She wanted to ask but didn’t know how. She came up with a different question instead. “How many outbuildings are there?”

  “I’m not sure,” Chad responded. “We just use them for storage. They’re probably full of rodents.”

  “That’s a shame.” Although she didn’t agree with everything Jessica had said, she could already see that the ranch had a ton of untapped potential. “Have you thought about converting them to cottages? Maybe you could rent them out as vacation homes.”

  “I’m not sure how that would go over with Grandpa,” he said.

  “I bet he’d like it way better than turning the ranch into a hotel.”

  “Or a liposuction recovery retreat,” he said with obvious bitterness.

  “Or that.” She stared at an outbuilding nearly overrun with ivy and morning glory vines. “This must have been an amazing place to grow up.”

  “It was.” He bit his lip again. “I thought my children would grow up here, like I did…and my dad.”

  She wondered if he knew that Jessica didn’t like kids. Surely, that would be something he would talk about with a girlfriend. “You don’t think that anymore?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not so sure.”

  “You don’t have to lose the ranch,” she said.

  “But can we go on the way we are?”

  They wound through a wood of scrub oak and came to small stucco building.

  “What is this place?” Darby asked, struck by its simplistic beauty. It had a small tower and six arched stained-glass windows.

  “It’s a chapel,” Chad said, obviously pleased by her reaction. He nudged her. “Follow me.”

  She trailed after him through the gate, but instead of going up the steps to the double wooden doors, he followed a path around to the back where tombstones pointed in all directions like crooked teeth. “My ancestors are buried here. Grandpa insists that we bury him here, too, when the time comes, but like I said earlier, I’m not sure if it’s even allowed anymore.”

  “I can find that out for you, but I hope we won’t need to know for a while.”

  He skated her a look. “I hope so, too. For my sake, more than his.”

  She nodded at a stone less weather-worn than most of the others. “Is that your mom?”

  He nodded. “I should have Paco come out here more often, but he has so much to take care of as it is.”

  Darby clutched Chad’s arm as an idea struck her. “Do you know what you should do?”

  “No, what?” He sounded suspicious.

  “You should rent this out as a wedding venue!”

  “You mean host weddings here?”

  “Absolutely!” She tramped through the long grass to look in through the
chapel’s stained-glass windows. She picked up a maple leaf off the ground and used it to try to wipe the glass clean.

  “We can go inside,” Chad said, coming up behind her.

  “It’s not locked?”

  “It is, but I know how to get in.” He took the stone steps two at time, reached inside the stoup and pulled out a tarnished key.

  Darby paused at a wooden plaque nailed above the door that read, What ere thou art, act well thy part.

  Chad jiggled the key in the lock until the door swung open. The chapel had two rows of wooden pews, wide-planked floors, and a heavily carved pulpit. Weak refracted light seeped in through the glass.

  “This place would be perfect,” Darby breathed.

  “For what?”

  “My sister is marrying a horror screenwriter.”

  “You think this looks like a setting for a horror movie?” he asked in a pained voice.

  “Not at all!” She gripped his arm in excitement. “I think it’s charming, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who would think so.” She smiled with a sigh. “Blaine—that’s my brother-in-law-to-be—wanted to get married in a cemetery, but my parents, who are devout Catholics, wouldn’t hear of it. They insisted on a church wedding, but this…” She slowly walked down the aisle, trailing her fingers on the sturdy wooden pews, and imagining Sloane and Blaine exchanging vows.

  “You think this would be a good compromise?” Chad followed.

  She shook herself. “It’s too late. It would never work. They’ve already booked the church and Father Dolan…but it would be so cool. Some other wedding, I guess. Besides, the chapel isn’t large enough.”

  “It’s a large wedding, then?”

  “Just family and a few close friends, but my family is huge.” Standing in front of the pulpit, Darby stared at the glass windows. It was a picture of Jesus feeding the sheep. The windows alone had to be incredibly valuable. If Bernie were successful in turning this into a housing development, or a shopping mall, or even a hotel—what would happen to the chapel?