Another Stab at Life

by Anita Higman

  Did he want the truth? “Perhaps someone who doesn’t have to see you dressed in a tux. Or maybe someone who knows how to construct a sentence.”

  “Oww. That’s a sharp one,” Max said.

  “Sorry. I’m a little out of my mind right now, so any number of bad things might come out of my mouth. Be warned.”

  “Tell me. . .when you first arrived, why did you say I tried to frighten you into submission?”

  “Oh, that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was befuddled. Distressed. Irrational,” I said, offering my most penitent expression.

  “I forgive you. Now please tell me what’s upset you.” Max sat across from me.

  I took another sip of my coffee. “When I first arrived at my house. . .just before you came over. . . there was a present for me near the stairs. When I opened the box, it contained a dead cat.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it that night?” Max asked.

  I dropped my gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m—” “I know,” Max said. “You’re independent.”

  I couldn’t argue with the man. But I was on a roll and wanted to continue. “Then, just now at the house, I went downstairs, thinking someone might be at the door. No one was there, but I found a butterfly in my front living room. It was one of those big, beautiful blue ones, and someone had stuck a pin through its body. . . while it was still alive.” I set down my mug. “They put it on a piece of cardboard like it was a specimen. But, Max, the butterfly was still alive and in lots of pain. I realize it’s just an insect, but someone went to a lot of trouble to be cruel and to have me see it suffer.”

  I rubbed my forehead, wondering if I had any more aspirin in my suitcase. “The butterfly wasn’t there last night. That’s the other part. It had to have been placed there while I slept.” I pulled the robe around me even tighter as if it could take away some of the anxiety. “Who could be doing these things to me? And what do they mean?”

  Max rose from his stool, frowning. “This is not good. At all. Someone is trying to scare you. But I can’t imagine what neighbor would do such a thing. I mean the older couple, the Lukins, who live on the other side of you, are certainly cantankerous at times, but that’s all.” He stared at the floor. “But I do remember something odd a few years ago. A man wanted to buy the house from your grandmother and offered her way more than the place was worth. He never gave a reason, but he pushed hard to buy it.”

  “Why didn’t Granny want the money?”

  “She wanted to save this house for you,” Max said. “Plain and simple.”

  “Oh.”

  “But that man, Buford somebody. I can’t remember his last name. After he gave up on the house, he said he planned on moving to Colorado.”

  “But what if he didn’t move?” I asked, getting a little concerned again.

  “I never knew for sure. But I suppose he could be hanging around. Maybe he figures if he scares you enough, you’ll put the house up for sale.”

  “Do you really think it could be this guy?” I asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. Actually, a number of people have wanted to buy this house over the years. Even the Lukins, but they didn’t offer much.”

  Suddenly I got an itchy-type question that needed some scratching. “By the way, how much more money was that Buford character willing to pay for it?”

  Max raised an eyebrow. “Forty thousand dollars more than what it was worth.”

  “Wow. And he didn’t give you any reason for being so stupid or desperate?”

  “Well, since it was such a large amount of money, I did ask him some questions. You know, try to needle it out of him.” Max rolled up his sleeves and refilled his mug. He held up the pot. “I have plenty of coffee if you want some more.”

  “Maybe just a little,” I said. “So, did you have any luck pressing that guy for information?”

  “I’m afraid not. Buford was as personable as a brick wall.” Max poured some more coffee in my mug and then sat down, gazing at me.

  So, what brand of smile did Max always wear? His expression washed over me, giving me a funny rush. Nice feeling but bewildering at the same time.

  “Hey, by the way, did you get your hinges fixed on that back door?” Max asked.

  “I fixed the hinges myself. But I guess someone got in anyway.” I picked up my mug again and let the aroma soothe me.

  “I know some of this area is rundown, but all in all, it’s considered a pretty safe neighborhood. So I can’t imagine anyone around here doing such malicious things. Listen, when you finish your coffee, maybe we should call the police.”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?” Max asked. “Long story.”

  Max let out a long breath. “Whoever is doing this could be dangerous. And whoever it is, is guilty of some pretty serious crimes.”

  “I know that. Maybe you could help me make the house more secure.”

  Max nodded. “I will. Maybe I could come over and check out the doors for you. You know, look for signs of a break-in. Then on Monday you could have a contractor put on new doors and heavy deadbolts. Also, if you have the money, I’d get a really good security system put in.” Max took a sip from his mug.

  Do I have the money? How funny. “Max. There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  He looked up at me, waiting for me to say more.

  8 – A Highly Volatile Emotional State

  “It has to do with money.” I rinsed my mug out and set it in Max’s sink. Should I really tell him about Granny’s money? Can I trust him? I turned around, and Max was suddenly nearer to me than I expected. What was that cologne? Woodsy, refreshing, and all male. They should call it “Under the Influence.” Whatever it was, I wanted a bottle of it next to my pillow. I backed up a bit from Max. Now what was I going to say? “Uh, yes. I found a hole at the back of one of my closets. It’s in the master bedroom upstairs where I sleep. I found three gallon jars. They were full of cash and a note from Granny.”

  “Mrs. Short left you cash in a hole in your closet?” Max shook his head. “She’s still surprising me, even now.”

  I let out a sound almost like a giggle. I felt so comforted that Max hadn’t known about the money, especially since I’d entertained the idea that he’d not only been using Granny to get to her money, but could have murdered her. How could I think such wicked thoughts about Max? I made the choice to trust him. “But you don’t know all of it. Please don’t tell anyone, but. . . well. . .Granny left me half a million dollars.” It felt so good to say those words again. I had wanted to tell the whole world my good news, but I knew that could be foolish and risky. Letting Dedra know, and now Max, felt almost as satisfying as telling the whole world. I studied his expression.

  “Really? That’s unbelievable,” Max said. “What a huge amount of money to just cram into gallon jars and just hope the right person found it.”

  “It is unusual. But then Granny was always a bit unconventional. And even more so toward the end of her life.” I folded my arms. “And yes, before you ask, I did put the money in the bank.”

  “That’s good. Very good.” On Max’s last words, he shook his finger at me. “Sorry.” He put his finger away and seemed a little embarrassed. “My sisters. I guess I do that to them a little, or so they tell me.”

  “You lecture them?”

  “I don’t mean to.” Max set his mug in the sink. “But I have to be careful. Older Brother syndrome.”

  “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” I wondered if he planned to treat me the same way.

  A quiet came between us for a moment. “I am very grateful to Granny, you know. I really appreciate the money. I barely had enough money to buy anything.” “It is incredible news, Bailey.” Max’s eyes were full of warmth.

  I could tell Max wanted to congratulate me a little more intimately, but he held back from a hug. Funny how a handshake would have been too little and a hug too much at this stage. Or would a hug be awkward for other reasons? But I was certainly
pleased Max looked so pleased. “Thanks.” All of a sudden, I felt way too hot for his bear robe. “I’m not used to the heat in Houston, although I guess you do have air conditioning. Don’t you? Of course, you do.” Was I making a fool of myself?

  “Yes. It’s pretty hot here in Houston.” Max reached over me to turn off the coffeemaker. I could feel his breath on my face as he pulled back ever so leisurely. I closed my eyes. The cologne again. I was definitely under the influence. Max cleared his throat, and I jumped a little.

  “I’d be interested to know how you found that hole in the closet,” Max said.

  I crammed my emotions back into my pocket. “Well, I remember a nightmare Granny used to talk about. All the time. In the dream, the only way out of this spooky old house was a spider-lined passage.”

  “But how would you have thought the dream could be connected to something real?” Max asked.

  “There was a small table in the closet, and I acciden- tally knocked it backwards. The wall sounded funny when it hit. Sort of empty. I hammered all around that area with the heel of my shoe, and sure enough, the noise I heard sounded sort of hollow. Then I found two edges on the trim that made a square. I lifted up on the edge, and a door slid open. It was like magic.”

  “Your grandmother had quite a sense of humor and adventure.”

  “Yes, she did.” I folded my arms, not really knowing what else to do with them. “So, I not only have the money to put in a topnotch security system, but the money to fix up this house.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Max said. “But I’m still curious. If that table hadn’t hit the closet wall to hear the hollowness behind it, would you have ever found the opening?”

  “Well, Granny did talk about her nightmare in great detail. And there were remarkable similarities. So, because of that, I think I would have noticed those openings on the trim eventually.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’m a pretty snoopy person.”

  “Oh, really. Is that right?”

  Did I see attraction on Max’s face? His voice and chin lowered. Yes. I may not have dated much, but I still knew the sound of seduction. Unless it was just something gastrointestinal going on. I’ve noticed the older one gets, the more bodily disturbances can masquerade as roman- tic inclinations. I shook off my bizarre trail of thoughts.

  Somewhere in all the fuss, I realized I must be in total disarray. My hair was surely tousled, but not in a sexy, windswept way. I probably had football player eyes with mascara smeared everywhere but on my eyelashes. Then worse than all of the above, I wondered what I smelled like. At least Priscilla’s odor was non-organic. Oh well.

  I couldn’t do a thing about it this very minute anyway. “Max, I guess this means I’m sort of taking you up on the offer. Remember the contract my granny had with you? You know, the helper thing. But I’m only agreeing to it as a trial. If you become too pushy or start making too much homemade ice cream on patriotic days, I may have to fire you.”

  Instead of being mad at me for my teasing, Max threw his head back in a beefy laugh. And right then, I made another discovery. I liked the way Max Sumner laughed. I liked it way more than I wanted to admit. I’d best reel myself in. I felt a highly volatile emotional state coming on.

  While I floated on my own hot air, Max got all professional on me. He assured me he’d be over in a few minutes to check out my house. Max walked me to the door, and I stepped out into the Houston humidity, pulling at the robe’s tie.

  “By the way,” he said, “you were right about some- thing.” I handed his robe back to him and prepared to make a mad dash toward home. He smiled. “Priscilla really wasn’t my type.”

  9 – Stuck in the Mud Pits

  Minutes later I sort of half slithered, half jigged home. For once I couldn’t figure out my own emotions. They appeared as a menagerie of all human feelings, like the two drama masks plus every imaginable variation in between. In other words, I hoped I didn’t have a hormone imbalance.

  I had to grab the bull by the horns again, as they surely must say in Texas. But I might have come too late to my own rescue. I’d promised myself to do the life thing without becoming exposed and powerless, and within a mere forty-eight hours, I’d digressed into a vulnerable and helpless-sheep pattern. Yes. I’d become like a fluffy mammal toppling down rocky hills and getting my bumbling bum stuck in the mud pits. I could see the words plastered on my forehead: Stupid Feeble Sheep.

  And in addition to that, I’d already broken every one of my life rules. One: Don’t get too deeply involved with people. Two: Don’t share your guts. Three: Don’t let people give you too much; otherwise you’ll be obligated to them. Now I was beginning to wonder what was worse—breaking my life rules or making them up to begin with?

  Life suddenly felt asymmetrical. The whole pack- age. I wasn’t even sure what was up or down, right or left. Would I be able to stop the person who was bent on frightening me away? Would I really be able to fix up this old place? Did I really want Max to be like a helpful brother? Miles of questions kept leading to more of the same. It felt demoralizing to think that when I hit the first real dip in my Houston life road, I’d bottomed out.

  Like chasing freshly strewn marbles, I tried grab- bing at bits of courage. I didn’t want to be beaten— to flee in fear. I held my head high and hollered in the living room, “I am not leaving! Do you hear me?” The declaration didn’t sound authoritative, but at least the sound reverberated from the walls. But why did I yell? Was I worried someone still lurked in the house? How would I ever sleep again? Apparently, someone had decided my house was one big come-and-go spook party.

  But I think the person I tried to convince the most about staying was me. I could easily run. I could put my house up for sale today. I had every right to, and I knew Granny would have understood my dilemma. But in spite of everything, I felt some part of me becoming attached to this monstrosity. I cleared my throat, gritted my teeth, and made up my mind. I would stay, even if I had to sleep with one eye open.

  I suddenly remembered Max had promised to head over soon, so I clothed myself properly in new jeans and a clean T-shirt. I scrubbed my face and brushed some color on my face. No doubt I smelled, so I slathered on some high-powered antiperspirant and wished I’d had time for a shower. Oh well. Max had already seen me at my worst and hadn’t passed out. Then I heard a sharp rap at the door.

  I opened the door to Max. The moment felt worlds apart from when he’d passed through my threshold before. He was welcome this time. “Thanks for coming.” Max frowned. “Bailey. We do need to talk about this some more. . .about you calling the police. A break-in is serious.”

  “Yes, it is. Please come on in.” Max stepped in, and I shut the door.

  “But I don’t want to get a reputation early on here for crying wolf. Since we’re going to make sure the house is very secure, I think it’ll be okay.” Even though I had no intention of calling the police, I loved the fact that Max wanted me to. Guilty people never want to call the police, so that once again proved his innocence.

  Max put his hands on his hips, and after a weighty pause, he said, “Well, I do think some of the neighborhood kids on the other side of the bayou might have been using this place as a clubhouse. They may have had access through your broken fence in the back and then come through your back door, since it’s so flimsy.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure, but a few weeks ago I may have seen a couple of those boys coming out of your front gate. Maybe the kids are trying to scare you off to get their clubhouse back.”

  “But what kind of a kid would commit these acts of cruelty?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. And we don’t know how far they’ll go. That’s assuming it’s the kids. I’m just making guesses here. Are you sure you don’t want me to call someone?” “I’m sure. Yes.” I folded my arms like a prosecuting attorney. I wondered if my posture looked convincing or just silly.

  Max went to work checking out the front door while I kept busy feeling like a helpless sheep again. “This door is
starting to rot. It’ll need to be replaced. If you don’t mind, I want to look at the back door, too.” Max led the way through the hall into the kitchen. Apparently, he, too, along with the rest of the neighbor- hood, was very familiar with the layout of my house. After a quick examination, he grimaced. “This door is a joke.” “I fixed the hinges.”

  “But the lock is so cheap, anyone could open it with a credit card.” He pointed to the offending piece of metal. “I should have warned you about that, too.” “It wouldn’t have mattered,” I said to make him feel better.

  “Why’s that?”

  Did I really want to look at him while saying this?

  “Because I wasn’t in the mood right then to listen to anything you had to say.”

  “Okay. I like honesty.” Max grinned at me. “As I’m sure you already know, you have another door in the library that was boarded over. I suggest you replace the two doors right now and add a reliable security system. I might be able to get crews in sometime tomorrow.” Max put his hands on his hips and suddenly looked businesslike. “What do you think?”

  “Absolutely. All of it. But I really want to stay with the same design on the doors. I’d like to keep as many things authentic about the house as I can. Restore it, not remake it.”

  “Good girl. I like the way you think.”

  “Well, on second thought, maybe I’ll boot out the gargoyles. They never look too happy to see me.”

  Max chuckled.

  “But.” I pointed my finger in the air. “There is one really important alteration I must have.” “What’s that?” Max asked.

  “Air. I need central air right away.”

  “Central air is going to be expensive to install in a house like this.”

  “I know. But I don’t care. I bought some small window units I can use for a while, but I want central air.” I realized my voice had risen with each word.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Max grinned. “Sorry.”

  “Well, you certainly have the money for central air now.” Max headed for the kitchen counter. He opened the phone book and circled some businesses. He tapped his finger on one of the names. “These guys are the best for doors. Logan Services. They’ve done work for me on some houses. They’re good, fair in price, and I think I can convince them to come on short notice. . . which is important here.” Max flipped through the book some more and circled another name. “Mondale Security is good. Once they’re finished, I can help you find somebody for central air. How does that sound?”