“S he… She paid?” The surprise in his father’s voice mirrored Artie’s own when he received the pouch. “In… gold?”
“I presume so.” Artie shrugged. “She said that she had gold.”
Charles Sinclair picked up the leather skin pouch from the desk and studied it.
“I didn’t want to bring out gold into the open and make people wonder, so I didn’t open the pouch.” Artie snapped his suspenders. “I didn’t have any reason to believe that she lied to me.”
I may have briefly suspected it, but only in brief.
His father nodded. “Yes. Yes, yes.” He weighed the pouch in one hand. “Fred?”
That personage came puffing from his desk as if he hadn’t heard every word of the conversation thus far. Artie didn’t know how he could have missed it though.
He watched his father hold out the pouch without even looking inside. Artie frowned as Fred retrieved it, weighing it between both hands.
“Gold?” The little man looked from father to son.
“It’s supposed to be.” Charles Sinclair grunted. “From Dorothy Hodges.”
Fred pulled open the pouch, tipping it onto his open palm. The gold in his hand answered any doubts.
“I began to believe he would never pay.” Fred stared in disbelief.
“Yet, he has.” Charles Sinclair squinted toward the gold but didn’t move. “Or rather, his daughter has.”
“You have done well.” Fred nodded at Artie with obvious approval.
“It’s not difficult to carry a pouch from one place to another.”
A hint of a smile passed across Fred’s face. “One would not presume so.” He put the gold back into the pouch, pulling the drawstring. “I will, of course, weigh it, so you can take the girl a response on Wednesday.”
Artie opened his mouth to argue against going and then shut it again. Instead, he merely nodded and left the room.
Is Fred in charge now? Does Father make any decisions?
He didn’t get to finish his thought, due to Theo’s annoyed tones.
“Leave me alone, will you?”
Myrtle Sinclair answered in an exasperated, high-pitched tone. “As your stepmother, I have certain duties.”
“Not that again, please.” Theo lay sprawled on the sofa in the parlor, one arm thrown over his eyes. Myrtle stood beside him, her hands on her hips.
“I am your stepmother. You ought to treat me like it.”
Artie looked around for Hazel but didn’t see her in the room.
Theo threw his arm down. “When you add another dozen years—two, even—to your age, I’ll consider it.”
The woman stamped her foot before she turned. Catching sight of Artie, she pointed to the recalcitrant individual reclining on the sofa. “Talk sense into him, Artie! He isn’t speaking any.”
“Talk about sense… You’re a much better age to be my sister , Myrtle. Not nearly old enough to be my mother.”
“How many times?” The woman stamped her foot again. “Don’t call me Myrtle!”
Theo covered his eyes with his arm again. “How many times must I tell you that I will not call you by any motherly name? Stop telling me to do otherwise. You’re just wasting your time.”
Myrtle threw up her hands. “Artie, make your brother be sensible, please!”
“I don’t know what he’s being insensible about, to be honest.” Artie moved forward tentatively. “I missed it.”
“Nothing to miss.” Theo didn’t move his arm.
The stepmother huffed. “I need him to come to the dinner I’m hosting this week. He won’t give me an answer.”
“Dinner?” Artie didn’t like the sound of it himself.
“Yes. I can’t be there alone. Your father is busy. I need you boys to be present, so I’m not alone.”
“You could do it alone,” Theo muttered.
This time Myrtle crossed her arms with another stamp of her foot. “I couldn’t! It would look absurd. Artie! Talk to your brother.”
“Or talk some sense into Myrtle .” Theo didn’t even bother to look up. “I have no idea if I’ll desire to be bored all evening or not.”
With an exclamation that Artie never could describe, nor had he ever heard until Myrtle Sinclair moved into the house, the woman flounced from the room.
Artie sighed. “Remind me why you get onto Hazel for trying to rile you up?”
“Not the same, Artie. I didn’t do anything to disrupt Hazel’s life. Myrtle constantly disrupts mine.”
“That’s hardly an excuse.”
Theo sighed this time. “Leave Hazel out of it.”
Artie sank into his usual chair beside the piano. He’d rather I stayed out of it altogether. Honestly, I’d prefer it.
He stayed silent for so long that Theo finally threw his arm from shading his eyes and turned his head toward him.
“You don’t have unsolicited advice? A lecture? Words of wisdom? A mournful dialogue regarding my actions?”
“No.” Artie shook his head. “I don’t.”
Theo frowned. “You’re not going to tell me that I should apologize? Stop calling her Myrtle? At least, tell me to go to her dinner?”
Artie merely looked at him.
Theo sat upright. “Are you ill?”
Artie almost laughed. “No. I’ve got too many things on my mind to get into a needless argument with you right now.”
“What sorts of things?”
“Such as where a poor woman found gold for her father’s payment, why she is frightened of me, why Fred Salts took it and Father didn’t even open it, and why each of the latter seemed genuinely surprised that the girl paid at all, despite Fred telling me ahead of time that she would.”
“How do you intend to find answers to that list of queries?”
Artie shrugged. “I couldn’t begin to tell you.” He leaned back in his chair. “What do you know about Joseph and Dorothy Hodges?”
Theo leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Nothing, really. I didn’t even know that Joseph had a daughter until Fred told you.”
“You knew about the father though?”
“I’ve seen him a few times. Everyone knows he lives out in the middle of the desert. He comes to Mesa to sell his carvings and buy supplies, I think. He carves those animal figures that Hazel always begs to stop and look at.”
Artie nodded, still thinking. His brother watched him.
“Since when do you think an argument is needless?”
Artie laughed as he stood. “Since I know the outcome.”
“You know the outcome?”
Artie turned to face his brother. “Are you planning to show up for that dinner?”
“Yes.”
“You would have acted like you weren’t if I argued with you. I knew you planned to go though, so what’s the point? You just wanted her to fume, and she did. I know you better than that.”
Theo frowned. “You don’t think that she knows that I intend to be there then?”
“No. Why?”
Theo grinned and relaxed. “Good. Because I don’t plan to commit until I have to show up.”
At Artie’s look, Theo shrugged.
“I may have to live with a questionable excuse for a stepmother, but I don’t have to make her life easy nor let her think that she can order me around.”
Artie shook his head. Because that attitude doesn’t make things more difficult on anyone else.