CHAPTER FOUR
WEDNESDAY MORNING, I GOT the kids settled at Sand and Sea and walked back to Natalie’s office. She looked up with an expectant expression.
“Mr. Butterfield doesn’t say much to Aunt Madge. I think he’s been at the Cozy Corner to…”
Her eyebrows went up. “He’s pals with your aunt?”
I shook my head. “She’s friendly to everyone, but now that she’s mayor she’s always on the lookout for people who want to bend her ear. She didn’t hear much from him, but heard from someone at city hall that it’s the lot they want, not the building.”
Her lips twitched, and for a moment I thought she was about to cry.
“Butterfield and Aaron came by yesterday. They were trying to sound me out about the price I’d accept. I was just able to keep myself from telling them to take a hike.”
“That’s all?”
She smiled. “Kids were still here.”
“If you had another place, a place you liked, to move the center, would you be willing to do it?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Whose side are you on?”
Her tone surprised me. “Yours. I like the center and the location. And I hate change for the kids.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” It was a little, but her stress level had to be off the charts. “Harry and I had an idea. Maybe you should go down to public works and look at the plans for this building. See if there are any…substances that would be difficult to remove.”
“Huh. You mean asbestos? It’s in the lining or something for the heating ducts. When I had the place inspected before I bought it, the inspector said it’s only a problem if you disturb it, like if I redid the HVAC system.”
“I’m glad you know that. I’ll help lead a charge to save the center, if it gets to that, but I’d rather not have my name, or Harry’s, in the middle of a business-type thing.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’m just angry. I brought Aaron into this project. I thought he was my good friend.”
“Money has a way of changing a person’s perspective.”
WORD ABOUT INTEREST IN a property gets around the Ocean Alley real estate community faster than waves break on the shore during a storm. When Harry and I met at his office the next morning, the phone had three hang-up calls from Lester.
“You call him back,” Harry said. “He likes you.”
“I may get a kick out of him, but I don’t feel like being badgered today until I have to. Besides, he didn’t leave a message.”
Harry grinned. “He still uses an answering machine. He probably doesn’t even know a digital phone can show everyone who called.”
I headed to the kitchen at the back of the first floor and stood there pondering the Sand and Sea sales issue. You can’t do anything about it. Stop thinking about it.
About the only part of Twelve-Step family group meetings that I regularly remember is not to focus on things I can’t control. Not that I apply the lesson enough.
I switched my thinking to Ramona and George’s big decision. I have no control over that either, but it’s a pleasant topic. I would love to see them cement their relationship. My sister and her husband are the twins’ godparents, but Ramona and George love them to pieces.
I had finished making coffee when the doorbell rang. Harry called that he would get it and walked toward the front foyer. “It’s morning, so it’s not Girl Scout cookie sales.”
I checked a drawer hoping to find a granola bar. “That’s good, because I still have two boxes of Thin Mints hidden at the back of a kitchen cupboard.”
He had reached the door. “Hidden from whom?”
“Me.”
He laughed, but sounded less jovial as he addressed our visitor. “Lester. We don’t usually see you here. Come in.”
As I scooted into our office, I did a mental list of Lester’s sales for which we’d recently done appraisals. I hadn’t heard that a bank disagreed with anything we submitted.
“Good to see you, too.” Lester spoke fast as he followed Harry into our joint office. “Mornin’ Jolie. What’s the good news?”
Now I get it. I turned from my computer. “Can you give me a hint?”
He sat at the single chair near my desk and twiddled with his unlit cigar. “Madge hear anything about that kid care place bein’ on the market?”
“Not sure she has. I know Natalie, who owns half, doesn’t want to sell.” My eyes met Harry’s briefly, and he smirked.
“Huh. You think I should go over there and talk to her?”
I thought about it. “I could tell her if she wants advice on an offer she could informally contact you for…”
He shook his cigar at me. “Don’t work that way. If I don’t get the listing, no commission for old Lester.”
Harry cut in. “She doesn’t want to sell. I think you’d be rubbing salt in a wound.”
“So, who’s forcing her?”
“No one person,” Harry said, “that I know of. But she owns fifty-percent, not fifty-one-percent.”
“So, the others could gang up on her,” I said.
“Would they?” he asked.
“I only know one other partner. Why don’t you look up the sales records for when she bought…”
Lester almost bolted out of his chair. “Great idea. Thanks kid.” He had almost reached the front door when he turned. “You really got this dump lookin’ good, Harry.”
As is always the case when Lester leaves a conversation, the air felt less crowded. I glanced at Harry. “He called your grandparents’ place a dump.”
He snorted. “When I bought it a few years ago, it was in bad shape. But if there’s one person I don’t need to hear that from, it’s Lester.”
“At least give me some credit for making him go away.”
I ARRIVED AT THE COZY Corner Wednesday afternoon with little time to spare if I wanted to get the bread in the oven by three. Aunt Madge had meetings at two and two-thirty, and had promised to be home by four. I needed time to stop at Mr. Markle’s grocery store before I picked up the kids.
As I put the two loaves of bread in the oven – one cheddar cheese, one plain – a car door slammed in the B&B parking lot and footsteps trudged up the steps. The beep of the alarm system said someone had keyed in the security code.
“Madge?” came a man’s voice.
I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel and entered the breakfast room to find Benjamin Butterfield with a hopeful expression. “She’ll be here in about an hour. Can I do something for you?”
He didn’t bother to hide his disappointment. “I was working on a deal and skipped lunch. I thought I’d see if afternoon tea could be early.”
“I can provide tea, but the bread just went in the oven. Would a couple slices of cheddar cheese and a few crackers hold you?”
He grinned. “They would. I’ll be back down in a minute.” He walked quickly up the main staircase.
I went back to the kitchen and turned the switch on the electric kettle, set a mug and a saucer with tea bags on a tray, and rummaged for crackers in the pantry next to the refrigerator. When Butterfield came down the stairs, I carried the tray through the now-unlocked swinging door into the breakfast room.
He took the tray from me to place on one of the small guest tables. In an expansive tone, he said, “This will hit the spot. Why don’t you grab another mug and join me?”
“Sure thing.” I headed back to the kitchen. I found his engaging manner disquieting, and decided he must have heard I was an appraiser and wanted to pick my brain. I poured a mug of hot water and grabbed a teabag from the canning jar next to the stove.
Butterfield smiled broadly as I sat across from him, and held up a cracker with cheese on top. “This is why it’s always better to stay in a family place.”
“Aunt Madge always aims to please.” I added sugar to my tea. “How is your visit going?”
“Long day. Drafted an offer for a building downtown. Thought one of my partners was going to back out, but I talked him into staying onboard.”
That interested me, but I didn’t want to let on that I thought I knew what he was talking about. I also didn’t want to wish him good luck. “Does that mean you’ll be wrapping up your time in Ocean Alley?”
He shrugged. “Probably in a couple of days. So, what is it you do?”
“Aside from running around after two four-year-olds, I’m a real estate appraiser.”
He was either truly surprised or a good actor. “I didn’t realize that. I could have asked you what you thought of my offer.”
I shook my head. “That’s more real estate agent work. And I don’t do much with commercial property.”
He began to say something, but I kept going. “I heard at the courthouse that you’d like to bring a new hotel to town.” I thought if I said the courthouse rather than city hall it would let Aunt Madge off the hook.
He grinned. “Don’t you mean you heard from your aunt.”
Now is the time to show I can be a good liar. “If you talked to Aunt Madge about business plans, she’d never discuss it with anyone unless you said it was okay.”
“Ah. Discretion is good. I would like to operate a smaller hotel here, something in keeping with Ocean Alley’s character. Do you think the locals would welcome an outside investor?”
“You’d be bringing jobs. What’s not to like?”
He smiled broadly. “Terrific.”
“Are you thinking of the site on F Street that used to have a rooming house?”
He looked away and back to me. “You said you had four-year-olds. Do you have a nanny?”
“Ha! I wish. No, they go to Sand and Sea Daycare. They love it.”
He lifted his cup of tea. “Good, good. Do you mind if I take this upstairs to finish?”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
He stood, and I did the same. “Will you be here for tea?”
“No, Aunt Madge’ll come in before that. I have to pick up my kids and head home to make dinner. Never a dull moment.”
I GOT TO SAND and Sea by four-thirty, the latest I can pick up the kids without paying extra. I hadn’t made it to the play room when Natalie came down the hallway from her office, waving a paper.
“I can’t believe those a…jerks have put together a preliminary offer. Can you come to an emergency board meeting tonight?”
“Umm. Only if it’s after eight-o’clock. I don’t like to break up our routine too much.”
“Okay. It’s late to be inviting, so after dinner would probably work better anyway.”
“What’s the rush?”
She raised her arms without dropping the papers. “It’s too good an offer for me to turn down on my own. The parents aren’t the owners, but they should have a voice if I have to change locations.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
“Come at eight, and I’ll tell the others eight-thirty.”
In another circumstance, I’d tell her I didn’t need an extra half-hour here on a week night, but Natalie seemed almost crazed. “Sure. See you at eight.”
“I’ll make you a copy of the offer so you can read it in advance.” She turned toward her office.
Great. A contract to read when I’m cooking dinner.
As I walked into the playroom, I recognized Lance’s guilty expression. Marie Hall talked to him earnestly before he heard me and looked in my direction. Behind Lance’s back, Marie gave me a wan smile and shook her head slightly.
Lance ran over and gave me a huge knee hug, always a sign he’s regretting something. “Mommy, did you ever push a box around with your head?”
Leah’s voice came from behind me. “He means when you’re crawling.”
“Lance can speak for himself, remember?”
He nodded. “Okay, when you’re crawling.”
“I don’t think I’ve done that. When we get home, why don’t you ask Daddy if he has?”
“Good idea!” He ran to the other side of the room and began throwing plastic trucks into a huge toy box.
Behind Marie, and with Lance not looking, Dolly tilted her head and pretended to be ramming something. I mouthed, “Oh, good.”
I wanted to talk to Marie, and Leah clearly wanted to listen. “Honey, you must have toys to pick up, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did mine, a course.” But she walked toward Lance.
Quietly, I said, “It looks as if the building’s still standing. What did he do?”
Several more parents came in the side door. “Nothing horrible, but he’s not sure why a couple people are mad at him. He can tell you. Plus,” she grinned, “you have his other half to elaborate.”