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“Hey, I almost forgot,” Pat said one afternoon as I was spooning her blueberry cheesecake into my mouth. “Are you still looking for a place to stay?”
“I am indeed,” I told her, putting the cake fork aside and dabbing at my mouth with a napkin.
“Did you not like the place you looked at on Monday?”
“I liked the flat itself,” I told her. “It is neat and tidy, not too big for only one person, and well maintained, but...”
“There is always a but,” John said with his mouth pulled into a pout.
“It was a small flat which they built onto their house for their parents, whom both now passed on. I don’t want to live on top of people. Especially not people I don’t know. I want some open space around me. I love the forests around town. If we can find a place close to that I would be so happy. My soul longs for a quiet, secluded place. These people have three dogs, two cats, and a wagon full of children. I will never feel comfortable there, neither would I find rest.”
“I have a place!” Pat said as she did a little dance. “And I think it will be perfect for you.”
“You do?” John asked. “What place? Because I have been searching high and low, and I told her she better take this last one, or live with Martha forever.”
“It is a bit out of town. I will not lie when I tell you that it probably needs a coat of paint, and John might have to run through it with a toolbox in hand to fix some small things, but it is secluded, it is definitely quiet, and available immediately.”
John frowned. “Which place is this?”
“Norma was in yesterday, and she told me that Walter Price is looking for someone for the cabin.”
He shook his head from left to right, a frown deeply ingrained in his forehead. “That is in the middle of the forest! There is no way...”
“In the forest?” I interrupted. “How far out of town?”
Pat ignored her son’s words. “It may be about ten minutes’ ridee with your bicycle.”
“I am saying no way!” John hit the table with his fist.
Pat turned to him. “Why not?”
“It is too far out. There is no one around for miles. No alarm. No security. It is not safe for a woman alone. Just think about what happened to Kourtney...”
“What happened to Kourtney?” his mother asked, chin up and shoulders squared. “Nobody knows what happened to Kourtney. Not even Sherriff Clemens knows, and he did a complete investigation. For all we know she up and left.”
“Sherriff Clemens cann’t investigate his way out of a shoebox,” John stood up, towering over his mother. “And you know it.”
“You never liked him,” she said in a loud voice.
“He is a bloody buffoon,” John told her “An ignorant bloody buffoon.”
Pat jumped out of her chair. She stood in front of John, looking into his face with her hands planted in her sides and her elbows out wide. Two red spots grew on her cheeks. “That is disrespectful, John,” she said. “I raised you with some manners.”
“I hate to say it, babes,” her husband said behind me. “But you are biased in your view of George.”
We all jumped at the sound of his voice. He was in the kitchen, preparing a take away meal for me, or he was supposed to be there.
“You almost gave me a heart attack!” Pat had a hand on her heart, her red cheeks were turning even redder, and her eyes were large and round.
He stood looking at her. “You are not getting out of this by changing the subject. Everybody in town, and a few people outside this town, thinks that George is not fit for that office. He only got in there because his father was the mayor at the time. So far, he had been able to cling to power by magic, if you ask me, because he knows nothing about fairness, justice or investigation. He allows his misogyny and bigotry to taint his judgements repeatedly. He is small minded, ignorant fool and if he had any sense of propriety he would resign right now.”
John bowed in his father’s direction. “Thank you, Dad. I couldn’t have said that any better.”
“Food is almost ready,” John II said. “Tell her more about the cabin.”
Pat and John sat down, not looking at each other.
