Chapter 16

 

Five years ago …

 

“So, what do you think of the colors?” I asked my brother.

Ron and I were standing at the curb, staring at the half-painted Victorian house we’d decided to buy for our offices. The old house, in a neighborhood of similarly sized places, had good bones but was in severe need of TLC when we found it. We’d done a lot of the interior cleanup, wallpaper removal and refinishing the floors ourselves. When it came to the exterior, with two stories of trimmed wood, plenty of shutters and gingerbread, we’d hired a crew. My contribution to this part of the project had been to choose paint colors. The house would be light gray, shutters dark gray, and white for the fancy bits.

So far, three weeks had been spent sanding away the old, peeling parts and priming the poor old dear until she looked like an ancient woman with a bad case of age spots. Now, the west face of the house, the side where a long driveway led to the back, was done in our color scheme, our first chance to see how it all came together. The painters had gone for the day and the midday heat had abated a little as the afternoon grew later.

To my question, Ron gave a nod. “Looks good to me.”

What did I expect from him anyway, a rousing cheer? This was the guy who’d not even bought a houseplant to brighten his previous dingy office. I needed a woman’s point of view. I was having lunch tomorrow with my friend, Linda Casper, who, after finishing medical school and her residency, was in the process of setting up her own practice. She’d be the ideal person to give an opinion about our project.

Right now, my body was bone-tired. I rubbed an aching shoulder muscle and gave the structure a final appraisal.

“Well, I like it. When it’s finished I think I’ll love it.”

I brushed at the layer of drywall dust coating Ron’s shirt, but it was hopeless. Each of us arrived home at night to throw our clothing into the wash, take a long shower and fall into bed. If I’d known how exhausting the project would be, I might have steered toward a property without so much labor attached. The good part was, I now felt emotionally invested in the business, and the more I worked alongside Ron each day, the more certain I felt our partnership would be a good thing. I didn’t regret leaving Sloan and Mercer, not one little bit.

“I could go for a margarita,” he said.

I knew what he was hinting at, and Pedro’s is one place we could eat without having to go home and clean up first.

“At least shake the dust off your shirt first,” I said. I looked at my own appearance, but I’d stayed away from the kitchen area where the new wallboard was being installed. I could get by with brushing my hair and washing my hands and face.

We went back inside and performed our little cleanup duties, one by one, at the bathroom sink, then went to our vehicles. Another selling point for the Victorian house was its proximity to our favorite restaurant near Old Town. Four minutes later we pulled up outside the small side-street place.

“Hola, Charlie and Ron,” Pedro called out from behind the bar. “Your usual?”

I gave a nod and waved to his wife, Concha, who had just delivered two steaming plates to another table. Within two minutes we each had a frothy margarita sitting in front of us, along with a basket of chips and a bowl of Pedro’s homemade salsa. Concha didn’t even need to take our order. I always get the green chile chicken enchiladas and Ron will have a beef burrito. I can bet money on it.

“So,” I said, once we’d wolfed down half the basket of chips, “the painter said one more week to finish the exterior, and the inside is nearly done. I think we could move furniture into the upstairs offices any day now.”

We’d already gone shopping, so desks, file cabinets, shelving units, a conference table and chairs, and kitchen appliances were ready to be delivered as soon as we made the calls. While I’d handled a lot of those duties, Ron still had investigations to work so he’d been taking advantage of the quiet at his old office for phone calls and such.

“Just say the word,” he said. “I’ve got two buddies with pickup trucks standing by and we can haul everything out of my old office and have it set up on a day’s notice. I tell you, I’m more than ready.”

Our dinners arrived and I breathed deeply of the fragrant green chile scent.

“All I really want at this moment is to sleep for a day and a half,” I said as I cut into my enchiladas to let the steam out. “Which I won’t do. Don’t worry, I’ll be back at the new office first thing in the morning.”

Thirty minutes later, my tummy full and my head pleasantly lulled from the margarita, I pulled into my driveway at home. Up the street, it appeared a gathering of some kind was happening at the Delaney house. Matching hatchback cars sat out front and I could see the shine of the twins’ blonde hair from the glow of the nearby street lamp. Several teens milled around. The family Mercedes was backing out of their driveway. It came my direction and slowed in front of my house.

Jane Delaney powered down the passenger side window. “Hey, Charlie,” she called out.

“Hey. How are you guys? Haven’t seen you in awhile.” It was sort of my standard greeting, since, in fact, I probably hadn’t had a conversation with any of the Delaneys in more than two years.

“Gosh, I know. We’re constantly on the go these days. Redford’s looking at a new project to be filmed around Santa Fe and we’re on our way to a pre-production meeting now.”

Rick grinned from his driver seat. “I’ll be assistant director on this one.”

“If it comes through,” Jane reminded with a perky little wink. “Nothing’s for sure in this business.”

He rolled his eyes in a you-know-how-it-is gesture. I smiled, but it felt like a tired one.

“Looks as if the girls have a few friends over,” I said.

“Oh, yeah. It’s their fifteenth birthday and we got them the matching Audis for their starter cars. If they take good care of these, I’ve promised something nicer next year. They’re so excited.”

Again, my smile felt forced. At fifteen, I’d felt lucky to drive Elsa’s huge boat now and then. I was still stretching a few more years out of my mother’s old car, even now.

“Well, we’re running a little more than fashionably late,” Rick said to his wife.

“Right. So … we’ll see you around,” Jane said.

I watched them drive away, thinking how sad it was they couldn’t stay for their daughters’ birthday party. Park a lavish gift outside and leave ’em on their own, I supposed was the philosophy. I was too tired to dwell on it. I went inside, gave my own neglected fur-baby some attention and hit the shower. By nine o’clock I was completely sacked out.

I rolled over at some point and detected the beat of rock music nearby. Really, girls? The party isn’t over and the neighbors don’t matter at all? A glance at my bedside clock showed 3:14. I pulled the pillow over my head and snuffed out the sound.

When my alarm went off at six I slapped the snooze button and winced at the pain that zinged through my shoulder. All this manual labor was getting to me. If I didn’t hold the scraping and sanding to a minimum, I’d be too crippled for my accounting work. Beside my bed, the dog’s tail beat against the floor. We were starting our day whether I was ready or not.

I zombied my way through the morning ritual and rubbed some muscle-relaxant cream on my poor shoulder, informed the dog he would be staying home again and grabbed my purse. A brisk wind greeted me as I headed toward the old Buick. Once I knew the bottom line on what the renovations were costing, I might just spring for a new vehicle for myself.

The reminder of new cars made me look up the street. The two new ones were in the driveway at Delaney’s now, but what really caught my eye was the scattering of trash on their front lawn. Apparently, no one at the party had thrown a single cup or plate into any trash receptacle and now the litter was blowing through the neighborhood.

Enough already, I decided. I tossed my purse in the car and picked up two red plastic cups from my front lawn. The gutter held three more, and a scattering of paper plates were flying across Elsa’s yard. Okay, this is ridiculous. I picked up the items I passed as I marched myself up the street.

I don’t care what time you went to bed, little chicks, I’m ringing this doorbell until you’re up.

The twin who answered was less bleary-eyed than I would have expected, although she was still in her sleepwear—loose shorts and a tank top—and her long hair hung in tangles over a makeup-free face.

“Are you Clover or Zayne?” I asked.

“Clover.”

“Look, Clover,” I said, losing some of my ferocity. I held up my two fistfuls of trash. “This is all over the place. Not good.”

“Sorry about that.”

I stood aside so she could see her own front yard, which was by far in the worst shape.

“Sorry is one thing, but it’s windy out this morning and your stuff is ending up all over the neighborhood.”

Zayne stepped into view behind her sister, giving me the blurred-mascara stink eye.

“Didn’t your parents come home last night?” I asked, really trying not to sound like a grumpy old witch. Seriously, I’m only twenty-eight but sometimes I feel seventy.

“We’re fine,” Zayne said, ignoring the trash I showed her.

Clover gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “We’ll get it cleaned up this morning, Charlie.”

“Thanks. I’m sure the whole neighborhood will appreciate it.”

Zayne gave a dismissive pah and disappeared from view. I stood there with two handfuls of trash. Clover told me to wait while she got a bag. When she came back she’d put on a sweatshirt and she stepped out to the front porch, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Don’t mind Zayne. She just wants to have a good time. She got pretty wacked last night. I went to bed after the police left. We told them my mom was visiting relatives and my dad had just gone to the store and would be back soon.”

The police had been here and I’d slept through it?

“I guess I’m surprised your parents don’t get more upset about this kind of thing. I mean, this is not the first party, by far.” I dropped the trash into the bag she held open.

“They don’t care. Really, they’re so easy on us.”

No kidding.

“They’ve got these fantastic careers now, and they take great care of us.” A fond glance toward her new car in the driveway. “Really, Charlie, it’s all good.”