Chapter Twelve
“Oh no!” The chocolate was gone—Linney’s emergency stash chocolate saved for bad news. That meant something happened with her hospice patient. Paige wasn’t ever told any details of the cases. It was private, but she did see how much each patient meant to her aunt.
It just can’t be happening. A patient couldn’t have died. Not on Valentine’s Day. She’d worked so hard to make the day special for her broken-hearted aunt and now this.
Paige was frantic. Until she was half-way through eating it, she didn’t even notice she ate a second heart-shaped brownie she’d made for Linney and Michael. They were lightly frosted, soft, and had the perfect number of nuts. She’d been putting away ingredients when she noticed Linney’s missing chocolate bar. She steeled herself for the necessary call to her aunt.
“Aunt Linney, hello. It’s Paige,” she said, drawl thick and serious.
“I can see that on my caller ID. What’s up?”
“Well…is everything all right? I mean with you…and…”
“Paige, I told you I’m not talking about dating, especially at work.”
“No, no. Is everything okay at work? Okay, I’ll just say it. Your chocolate is gone, your emergency stash.”
“Hell no. You ate it?”
“What? No.”
“You made it sound like somebody died,” Linney said over the phone.
“Well, that’s what I thought. The bar is gone from the kitchen.”
“Oh, I know that.”
Paige was stumped. “Well, where is it?”
“In a tin.”
“In a tin? So, nobody, you know…expired?”
“Nope.” Linney’s voice softened. “Alive and as well as can be expected.”
Paige let out an audible sigh of relief. She moved to throw out her napkin and saw a dozen roses in the garbage.
“Wait, what’s this? Red roses?”
“Oh, those came, and I figured they were from Roger, so I threw them out. Hate Valentine Day’s anyway.”
“What if they were mine? From Michael? Or someone else?”
“Sheesh, didn’t think of that. Clean ’em up, would you?”
“Oh sure. I’ve got nothing better to do than wash roses. Before you go, do you have plans for the night?”
“Other than VD avoidance? Nope. Might just hang out tonight. Bye.”
Paige stood in front of a sink, trying to wash coffee grounds, old tuna, and vegetable peelings off the roses. It turned out to be a delicate process.
Her thoughts wandered to Linney. Did she need company tonight?
Her mother chose to call at that moment to wish her a Happy Valentine’s Day and asked Paige to be on the lookout for some roses for both her favorite women and that it had a funny card. Paige assured her mother she would do just that as she continued to wash the buds.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Paige? You sound funny.”
“Yes. I’m fine. Linney’s fine. Michael’s recovered, and the cat is strange.”
“What cat? Michael’s recovered from what?”
“Happy Valentine’s Day Mom. Gotta run, bye.” Paige hastened off the phone, feeling guilty about the roses her mother had lovingly sent. She managed to save most of them, though the buds looked a little worse for the wear and had a slight, non-rose, almost tuna odor. The broken ones, she just floated in a small bowl on the table next to the brownies. It looked charming actually with the scarf tablecloth she set up.
The doorbell rang. Paige hurried, nearly tripping over the cat as it leapt out of nowhere in front of her. The cat turned, hissed, and hovered in the corner, staring at the doorbell. The cat was proving more inexplicable, giving her pause before opening the door.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Paige chirped.
“Whatever. Sign here.” The rushed flower delivery person handed her a dozen red roses.
“They’re beautiful,” Paige drawled. The delivery person grunted and drove off without even looking up. In fact, she wasn’t even sure of the gender, just hurried.
The card was soggy. It had a picture of a bulldog on the front and read “Happy Valentine’s day Beayotch!” The signature was blurred. It didn’t even have a name it was addressed to. “Okie dokie, Mom. What exactly have you been drinking?”
Still holding the new vase of flowers, the doorbell rang again. Before she could open the door, the cat ran across her path, hissed, and hid. She looked about, half hoping for a hidden camera. Paige opened the door to a flower delivery service. A different flower delivery service. She stepped outside.
“Hey…” Came the voice under a hat, long hair, and beard. He held the syllable far too long. “Happy V Day. You live here, right?” He had a mellow California way about him.
“Yes.”
“Cool, cool. Needs just a little fixing up, don’t you think?”
“We’re working on it. Can I help you?”
“Oh right. Have some flowers for you.” He held out a huge vase filled with beautiful mixed flowers and waited, no instructions, the clipboard tucked under his arm.
Paige took matters into her own hands and handed him the first vase of flowers, took the clipboard, signed it, and took both vases back. The cat yowled, and the door slammed shut behind her. She turned to enter the house, but with her hands were full, she couldn’t open the closed door. “The door?”
The mellow delivery man of indiscriminate age just stared and nodded at her. “Yeah. Not sure. Don’t need to replace all of it. Just a board or two, some wood putty, filler, and stain.”
She sighed, handed him back one set of flowers, opened the door, and took the flowers back. “Oh, the card?”
“Right. Here’s my card if you want help on the house.” She showed him her hands were full so he stuck it into one of the vases of flowers.
“I meant the card with the flowers.”
“Right, well, there’s this thing with that.”
Paige waited. And waited. “And the thing is…”
“I love old houses. You can expand the porch this way.” He stepped up to what was left of the porch with broken rails and slanted roof. Then he stepped away staring up at the roof line.
“The card. For the flowers, you were giving me one.” Paige used every last bit of her upbringing to not scream at him.
“Right. Sorry. I’m filling in for someone. I really do woodworking. You see, I have all these cards.” He stuffed the clipboard back under his arm, pulled out a stack of a dozen cards, and fanned them in front of her. “Pick one.”
“Any chance you could pick it for me? Maybe one with this address or our names?”
“What names?”
“Linney, Paige, oh, it could also be Flee or Marilyn. Or even Smith or Myers.”
“Hmmm. I have My Sweet Love, Pookie, Sweetpea, and even Honeypot, but I don’t see any of those.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Okay, then pick one, and I’ll pretend it’s the right one.”
“Cool. Here you go.” He tucked it into the roses. “Just so you know, I might mess up on helping out with flowers, but I don’t with woodwork. It’s my thing, Linney Paige Flee Marilyn Smith Myers, whichever one you are.”
Paige looked at him. A man of indeterminate age, lots of facial hair, and a selective memory. She chose to just smile and let it all ride. “Got it. Call you for woodwork. Not too costly, are you?”
“Naw. If the house has good bones and the people have a good spirit, I don’t cost much at all. I do it for the art.”
Paige saw a genuine smile with some intelligence to it. “What was your name?”
“John Bailey Kernstonberg, no relation.”
Paige had no idea who he meant and was beginning to doubt he was related to anybody in the area or even on the planet. “Thanks John.”
“Just call me Bailey.”
“All right, Bailey. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
This time, she made it all the way into the house and put the flowers down, one on some boxes, the other on the table near the entrance. She almost tossed out his card but decided to put his with the other business cards and wrote loves woodwork and odd on it, circling the word Bailey. She came back and circled the word odd, too.
The random card he chose for her read, “I should have told you this before. I love you, Valentine.”
The breath knocked out of her lungs. She stood, stock still and stared at nothing. Winky joined her and, for the first time, brushed against her leg. He smelled vaguely of tuna and roses.
“Could it have really come from Michael?”
The cat just purred his answer.
****
Paige broke from her reverie when her cell rang.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Flee!”
“Oh, Michael the flowers—”
“Might be…” Static. “…so, I will…” Static.
She stared at her phone and sent a text to no reply. The Wi-Fi worked but the cell reception remained flakey at best. The day was not going as planned. As for the evening, she wasn’t sure what it would hold, let alone with whom. She desperately loved the holiday and fate seemed to be against her. Rather than despair, she turned to tea and a snack to get her going.
Paige stepped into the kitchen. The vase of roses was spilled over, the buds trampled, in broken bits in a puddle on the floor. Winky sat up on the table, directly on top of the frosted brownies, and was leaning over eating the roses. He turned, meowed sweetly, and ran into the basement. She simply left the kitchen as it was and locked the basement door on him.
There was only so much weirdness she could handle, especially on Valentine’s Day. Every spot she saw in the house was makeshift. She craved clean. She craved normal. She craved an office job and work, moving tasks from inbox to done. It was close to crisis point for her.
Instead of working on de-hoarding, she made an executive decision and gave herself the afternoon off. She wanted to look for a real position with a paycheck and benefits. Never before did she feel so pleasurably certain doing a job search and comfortable in sending out her cover letter and resume. At least, she told herself, working on the computer was a relaxed, clean activity. She hid away, job searching, ignoring worries over her aunt and the dilapidated farmhouse. She sent out job application and queries, without even keeping pristine track.
Still slightly numb but ready for the task, Paige returned to the kitchen. She took pictures of the roses on the ground, the cat bitten petals, and of the brownies, smashed with cat fur coating them. Evidence. For what, she didn’t know. All of the smashed roses and ruined brownies were thrown away and the kitchen cleaned. She put out a few brownies from the refrigerator. At least, they were heart-shaped. Then she put them back in, thinking the better of leaving them out.
Winky was, perhaps, a direct cause of her vicissitude. She knew exactly how to get back at him. She opened the cellar door.
“Here, kitty, kitty. Here, Winky. Bath time.” She would not let him have the upper hand. That and his fur was matted with frosting.
Paige filled the upstairs bathroom sink with warm sudsy water, expecting a battle. Winky not only didn’t scratch her but let her wash him. “Who are you, Winky?”
He even stretched as she poured warm water over him to rinse. The fluffy towel she’d wrap him in for drying was a whole other issue. He yowled at that, claws out.
“Fine. How about the blow dryer?” She set it on low and kept moving it so his skin wouldn’t overheat. She put back on the red bow. He actually looked…well, less scrawny. She carried him into Linney’s room where he rolled the Ben Wa ball onto his cushion and curled up around it.
“I’m bathing now. Please do not destroy the house or get filthy. I need this.”
The cat looked at her with a cross between distain and belittlement and twitched. His face looked calmer after that.
When it came to her bath, it was bubble-filled, scented, and so long she had to add hot water, twice. Her empty stomach made her finally budge from the tub. The oddness of the day seemed to wash down the drain. It was Valentine’s Day. She got flowers, probably. The cat was clean, for now. She would be seeing her dreamy Michael, maybe. And Linney had started to date, sort of. Nothing at all was firmly set, but that fact alone made Paige finally feel normal again.
****
“I figured it out!” Linney called up the stairs when she returned.
Paige had been primping and found her red thigh high stockings and a crimson scarf that she tied into a bow tie. She wasn’t finished dressing. In fact, she was practically naked.
“Did you hear me? I figured it out.”
“Okay, okay. Coming.” Not seeing her robe at hand, she grabbed her coat, zipped it up and bounced down the stairs.
“The roses were from your Mom. Wow, they cleaned up perfectly in fact—”
“In fact, that was the second set of roses. Let me show you the first set.” Paige found her phone and showed photos of the flowers she washed. Then the next photos taken after the cat destroyed the roses, followed by the cat having a bath. Her aunt laughed and picked up Winky who’d come to her side.
“What a naughty-waughty, widdle Winky dinky.” Linney coddled the cat as all three made their way to the kitchen and poured tea.
“So, one set from Mom, one set from—”
“Michael. Most likely the mixed flowers, so I put them in my bedroom for safekeeping.”
“The destroyed set might be from Samuel. I put in a voice message to him. Waiting for a return call.” Linney pulled out her cell and saw a flashing icon. “Maybe I missed his call.” Linney pressed a button, and Paige leaned closer. Linney moved away and whispered, “It’s him,” as if he could hear through the message. Her shoulders slumped. “Not Samuel.”
“But you just said it was him.”
“I meant the message, not the flowers. He told me Happy Valentine’s Day and that he was busy but come on out to Colorado some time for a visit.” Linney looked concerned.
Paige was more than concerned. She was dejected. All her matchmaking wasn’t panning out. She did well with Chloe from college and even helped out hopeless Brian. Her own aunt? A big fail.
“This calls for chocolate,” Paige said and pulled the brownies from the refrigerator. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Auntie, I mean Linney. Will you be mine?”
Her aunt took a big bite. “Your what?”
“Valentine?”
“Michael’s job it seems. These are cold,” she grumbled.
“Oh Linney, I know you are sad about Samuel, but someone will come along—”
“Huh? Sad. No. I’ll visit him some time. It was good to reconnect. You were right about that. Freeing and good memories. But Paige, he has his life, and I have mine. Besides, he does pot.” Linney shrugged. “Not for me. Gives me a headache.” Linney bit into a second brownie. “Me, I like chocolate and wine. Speaking of which…”
She pulled out a small box of chocolates hidden under a bag of chips on top of the fridge. “Happy VD, Squirt.”
Paige’s face lit up, and she threw her arms around Linney. “You do love love!”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me. I know you and your mom read all those romance things, so I thought I’d go along. Besides, I wasn’t sure if Yotahala boy was going to come through or if he was—”
“Nuts!” Paige had already opened the box and was eating one.
“That, too. Gimme those.” Linney laughed and dug in. They sat and soon playing cards came out and were shuffled.
“Gin!” Paige landed the needed seven of clubs. She threw down her cards and brushed a brownie crumb from her coat, not having bothered to finish getting dressed.
“I let you win.” Linney chuckled.
“No way. Confess. I took you down.”
The doorbell interrupted any confession.
“Please tell me it isn’t any more flowers,” Paige said.
Linney followed her to the door. The cat flew in front of them. This time, Linney hissed at the cat. He cut off mid yowl.
“Gotta show ’em who’s boss,” Linney said, sticking out her chin.
“Yeah, right. Like that helped.” Paige guffawed, but it did. The cat sat by Linney as the doorbell rang again. Paige opened the door.
A teenage boy with a profound number of pimples and a huge smile said, “Have something for you. Sign here.”
Linney took the box, and Paige signed.
“Is there a card?” Paige asked.
“Yes,” the boy said and accepted the tip Linney gave with thanks. Her aunt shut the door, with a few snowflakes drifting in on the breeze.
Paige grabbed the card before Linney could. She read aloud, “Surprise! Happy Valentine’s Day, you furry lover!” She didn’t read out the rest. Call when you need some petting!
Her eyes grew wide as she remembered the mishap with barista man who tried to pick her up at the coffee shop. Linney didn’t seem to notice. Paige opened the box, which held some cat toys, including a tiger-striped leather piece. Her cheeks went way past warm to a red-hot at seeing the thing, her imagination taking a turn, a deep turn, knowing it was most likely an adult toy.
“Well, Paige. These adoption places are going to all lengths. I can see it, though. Winky was an unusual case. Weren’t you my sweet dinky doo? You smell good, the way your sissy, Paige, fixed you up though.” Linney wandered off to the loveseat with the cat.
“I am not his sissy,” Paige called after them. She headed to the stairs to get dressed but was stopped by the doorbell again. She hesitated but was impressed that Winky ignored it.
She opened the door asking, “Did you forget something?”
“Yes. I need to do this.” And with that, Michael swept Paige into his arms and kissed her. They paused, staring at each other, and then beamed. Paige threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“Is it just us?” Michael asked.
Paige broke the hug and shook her head, motioning to the living room. “Linney’s in there playing with the cat. She called it off with Samuel, too. Sort of. I’m not sure we can leave her like this.”
Michael nodded in acceptance. He caught sight of the flowers. “Red roses?”
Paige cut him off. “We think those are the ones from my mom.”
Linney laughed heartily from the living room.
“Nice. Too bad my flowers weren’t delivered. They said there was a mix up with a fill in driver.”
“I think I got them, Michael. They’re beautiful. The cards might even have been yours.”
Linney walked past the foyer, talking on her cell, only nodding in greeting to Michael, “I’m with you. Let’s protest this commercial holiday.”
“See what I mean? She’s just broken-hearted,” Paige said and sat on the stairs, deflated. Her white coat rode up enough to accentuate the red fishnets she wore. Michael gently sat next to her. His eyes widened when he looked toward her legs.
Linney re-entered, coat on and bottle in hand.
“Uh-huh. Right. That’ll work. I’m okay with Cheetos but way prefer the salmon. I sure could use those hot tub jets, too. How about I bring a bottle of Pinot Noir? I’m with you. Who cares if it’s supposed to be a white wine? Hold on.” Linney looked at Paige and Michael.
“Ta ta, you two. I’m hitting George’s hot tub in protest of the holiday.” She walked to the door. “Oh, and don’t wait up or worry, okay? Bye.”
Michael stood. He almost ran to the coat rack, pulling off his snow dusted scarf and coat. “Did you hear her?”
“Yes, she is protesting the holiday.”
Michael stepped toward her with a kind-hearted smile. He offered her his hand, pulling her from the steps.
“Flee, my sweet, caring one. Think about it. Your aunt, who refused to date, is going to a hot tub with a man, carrying only a bottle of wine, and told us not to wait up.”
It sank in. It all sank in. Paige’s heart pounded in her chest.
“Oh Michael, you’re right. She might not like the holiday, but she’s back in circulation.” She threw her arms around him again.
“Boy, is she back in circulation.” He pulled back enough from the hug to look into her eyes. “It also means we have the house to ourselves.” He tilted up her chin and kissed her, his lips still cold from outside. “Mmm, you taste of chocolate.”
Paige didn’t respond but continued the kiss, inhaling the smell of snow and pines that he exuded. The mix was breathless. She finally broke from their languid embrace and stepped back. “I almost forgot. I have my valentine present for you.”
She stood with her back to the stairs and slowly inched the zipper of her coat down. All the way down. Taking a modeling pose, she held the coat wide open to reveal nothing but the thigh high fishnets and the red bow around her neck. “All for you.”
In that moment, the door flew open. Linney came in. “Nah. I’ll pass. You two go ahead though. Forgot the brownies.”
Paige slapped her coat shut and stood in shocked silence. Michael, try as he might, couldn’t stop laughing. With the plate of brownies in hand, Linney came back through.
“Turns out she takes after me,” she said to Michael as she pointed to Paige, “I was worried she would be like her mom, all proper without enough spunk. But no, she has atunhétsla, spirit, this one.” Linney opened the door and added, “All you need to make it work is three little words.”
“I love you?” Both Michael and Paige said in unison, realization at what was said, startling both of them.
“Maybe. But I was thinking, take your vitamins. You need to keep up your energy.” Linney left the house laughing.
No sooner had she closed the door than she popped her head back in. “You need to see this.”
“See what?” Paige zipped up her coat and stuffed her feet into her boots.
“Paige, wait.” Michael caught her. His mouth moved and finally words spilled out. “If you would have gotten the right flowers and card, it would have said, Should have told you this before. I love you, Valentine.”
Paige said the last words in unison with him. She did have the right card! She had the right man, too!
He gathered her in his arms. Her lip quivered. He stopped it with a tender kiss.
She finally whispered, “I did get the right card. I love you, too, Michael. I even thought of making a huge sign but thought you might find it too hokey.”
“Really?” Michael released her and threw back on his coat. “Come with me.”
They stepped onto the broken stoop of a porch and stomped over snow drifts to look out onto the meadow. The moon was hidden behind clouds, but there, in the dim light among the animal tracks, were two red hearts spray painted in the snow. The words, “I love you, Flu!” were spelled out.
They both laughed.
“It’s supposed to read, Flee. I love you, Flee. I think those are deer tracks across it.”
They stood there looking at the scene, grinning for the longest time. One or the other would chuckle, but they held tight to each other, looking out at the vista together.
Only much later, when they were curled in each other’s arms after making love in Paige’s room, did Michael admit, “Paige I think—”
“You’re hungry?” Paige asked, grinning.
He nodded with a smile.
“You need vitamins?” she teased.
“Definitely. And to say I think I fell for you the first day we met.”
“Me, too.” She smiled looking into his delicious amber eyes.
They mumbled of getting up but instead, ignored their hunger and fell asleep, entwined.
****
If someone came to the door, no one would be the wiser that they’d made love, except that one of her fishnet hose dangled next to his tie on the foyer light fixture. The other stocking was under the contented Winky on his make-shift bed next to the Ben Wa ball.
Everything was far from normal, but it was wonderful. In fact, it was ever so happily perfect.