by Elena Graf
Maggie put up her hands. “Guilty!”
As Maggie was setting the table for dinner, she heard her daughter’s voice along with the excited sound of children’s voices. Liz was there too. Maggie couldn’t hear the conversation but from the sound of heavy bags rolling across the floor, she could guess Liz was helping her daughter move in her equipment.
Maggie poured ranch dressing into a bowl for the children and tossed the salad she’d made for the adults. She heard more equipment coming in and thought how lucky she was to be married to such a welcoming person. Of course, when the house was full in the summer, Maggie sometimes thought differently, especially when she was off for the summer, and the task of entertaining the guests fell to her.
Maggie watched the children enjoy her meal. She tried to ignore all the food that fell under the table or got smeared across the surface. Liz said it didn’t matter because when she’d built the table, she’d sealed the top with polyurethane. Maggie knew that Liz would give Ellie, the cleaner, something extra in her pay to compensate for the mess the kids made.
Liz tidied the kitchen while Maggie and Alina got the children ready for bed. The girls wanted Maggie to tell them a bedtime story. She had been with them the whole day, and she was eager for some adult time, so she told a short one.
She found Liz and Alina in the small room off the media room. “I’ll put all these cables and speakers down in the basement,” Liz was saying as she carried out a box.
When Maggie looked in, she was impressed with their quick progress. The space was finally free of boxes and spare electronics. Liz had brought up a folding table from the basement and set up some power strips.
“Hey, Mom,” said Alina, noticing Maggie standing in the doorway. “My new office. What do you think?”
“A little small,” answered Maggie honestly.
“My office at the station isn’t much bigger.” Alina plugged in her laptop and adjusted the desk lamp.
“I’m sorry there’s no window,” said Liz, “but the light is pretty good in here.” She scanned the ceiling with a frown.
“Come on, you two,” ordered Maggie. “You can finish tomorrow. I’m desperate for adult company.”
Alina and Liz looked at one another.
“Never refuse an order from your mother,” Liz advised in a playful voice. “I’ll bring this box to the basement. Then I’ll open some more wine.”
They settled in the living room with glasses of wine and oatmeal cookies that Maggie had baked with the girls. “I’ve become such a traditional grandmother,” Maggie observed, taking a bite. “But the cookies are good.”
“I appreciate all you’re doing, Mom. You’re such a good teacher. The girls are probably learning more from you than in school.”
“I never taught little ones, except you and Sophia when you were very small, but I’m doing my best.”
“I’m sure you’re great,” said Liz and finished her cookie in a bite.
“Liz, when you’re home on Monday, you can take over the science lessons. I’ll look up the lesson plans for you.”
“I don’t need lesson plans,” Liz said, reaching for another cookie.
“Yes, you do, Dr. Genius. There’s a curriculum you have to follow.”
“I’m sure I can figure it out.”
Sometimes, Liz was so arrogant, but after a draining day with the children, Maggie didn’t have the energy for an argument, even a minor one, so she changed the subject.
“That is so nice of your boss to let you work from home.”
Alina made a little face. “Nice has nothing to do with it. The governor is weighing a stay-at-home order. She can’t go there yet because there haven’t been any confirmed cases in Maine.”
“There haven’t been any confirmed cases because we can’t get our hands on test kits!” said Liz impatiently.
“And there’s that piece,” Alina agreed. “It’s all so political. What a mess!”
“Can’t disagree with you there,” said Maggie. “Ali, you look so tired. You should think about making an early night of it.”
“I thought you needed adult company, Mom.”
“Despite rumors to the contrary, Liz is an adult.”
While Liz glared at her, Maggie laughed hilariously at her own joke. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired I’m giddy.”
They all decided to go upstairs. Maggie let Liz get ready for bed first because she was quicker. Maggie’s rituals involved makeup removal and facial creams.
As soon as Maggie came to bed, Liz switched off the light and slid down under the covers. She raised her arm so Maggie could snuggle against her.
“It’s a lot with the kids,” Maggie admitted. “Thank you for letting Alina stay with us.”
“We have the room,” said Liz. “If she was shut up in her little condo with the kids, trying to homeschool and work, she’d lose her mind.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t had any panic attacks yet.”
“Shhh. Don’t tempt the gods.”
“If the governor issues a stay-at-home order, a lot of people will be losing their minds. I’m sure Lucy and Cherie are going to have their hands full.” Maggie snuggled closer. She slid her hand under Liz’s T-shirt because she liked the feel of Liz’s breasts even when she wasn’t interested in making love. Liz stopped the movement with a soft press of her hand.
“Honey. I’m too tired, even for a tease.”
“I’m sorry.” Maggie slid her hand back out. “You want me to leave you alone so you can sleep?”
“Please.”
Maggie slipped out of Liz’s arms and rolled on her side. She was almost asleep when she felt movement on the mattress. She instantly identified it as small hands and knees making their way toward her pillow.
“Grandma!” Katrina whispered in a loud whisper directly into her ear. “Grandma!”
“What is it, Katie?”
Katrina sat cross-legged on the bed between Maggie and Liz. “Mommy is shaking like this.” Katrina mimed exaggerated shivering.
“Okay, sweetie. You stay here with Grandma Liz, and I’ll go see.”
Liz sat up. “I’ll go,” she said, getting out of bed. “Maybe she’s running a fever, but she didn’t feel warm earlier.”
“Can I stay here tonight, Grandma?” asked Katrina in a mournful voice.
Maggie flipped the covers over so Katrina could get under them. The girl cuddled against her.
“Will you tell me a story?”
“I already told you a story.”
“I know. Please.”
Maggie knew it would be a few minutes before Liz came back, so she began to recite a fairy tale. By the time Liz returned, Katrina was asleep. Liz crept into bed carefully to avoid waking her.
“Is Alina all right?” Maggie whispered.
“Panic attack. I gave her a sedative. She’s asleep now and so is Nicki. That kid snores like a buzz saw. I should take a look at her adenoids.”
“I’m so sorry you had to get up.”
“All good now. Next time, don’t tempt the gods.” Liz rolled over and pulled up the covers.
Chapter Nineteen
“Another Guinness, chief?”
Brenda looked up into the woman’s face. She’d been waiting tables at Sláinte since Brenda had first come to Hobbs. She’d arrived from Ireland as a young teenager but still had a charming brogue. Now, she was in her thirties, a teacher by day, but a pub waitress at night. Although Hobbs paid better than most towns, teachers’ pay wasn’t high enough to afford the rent.
Not that Brenda was paid that well, even as a police chief. Compared to what she’d made in New York, it was laughable. Her pension from New York, combined with her salary, made it possible to afford the mortgage. Marcia’s death and the loss of her income had put a big dent in Brenda’s finances. Good thing the taxes in Ho
bbs were so much lower than in Brooklyn.
Sinead leaned on the table. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your friend will be here soon. Would you like me to get you something to eat while you wait?”
“Yes, and another Guinness, please.”
“What would you like? We have Irish poutine on special tonight.” Brenda knew what poutine was because she and Marcia had traveled through Quebec. French fries with cheese curds slathered with gravy had never really appealed to her, so she made a little face.
“Try it,” Sinead urged. “It’s wonderful. Maine cheddar, our own home-made corned beef, and curry sauce instead of gravy.”
Brenda wrinkled up her nose. “Sounds fattening.”
“It is, but delicious. Trust me.” Sinead winked.
“You never steer me wrong. Okay, I’ll try some.”
“You won’t regret it. I promise.”
Brenda gazed around the pub. It was nearly empty, only a few patrons at the bar and two tables with couples. Brenda had taken the table closest to the propane stove for warmth. The dance floor separated it from the restaurant. There was always a little draft from the back door, so Brenda got up and moved the table and chairs closer to the fire. She’d done it before, and no one had complained. Cherie was from the South and always cold. Hopefully, she’d appreciate the gesture.
When Sinead returned with the beer and poutine, she brought something else. “I found your friend. Why didn’t you tell me it was Ms. Bois you were waiting for?”
“You know each other?” Brenda raised her brows in surprise.
“The Hobbs Family Practice people come in here for drinks after work sometimes,” Sinead explained. She glanced at the stove and her eyes measured the new distance to the table. “I see you moved closer to the fire. Smart.” Sinead smiled at Cherie. “Wine, right? Merlot?”
“Yes, good memory.”
Sinead smiled and headed off with their order. Cherie reached over and took Brenda’s hands. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Cherie’s eyes looked deeply into hers. “Dr. Stolz put me in charge of testing the staff, and it’s like herding cats.”
Brenda had to rouse herself from gazing into Cherie’s eyes to respond. “That means Liz trusts you. Take it as a compliment.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Why do you call her, Dr. Stolz? No one else does. Even the kids in town call her Dr. Liz.”
“I was taught that it’s important to use titles to show respect.”
“Don’t tell Liz that.”
“Hah! I’m stubborn, not stupid.” Cherie released an exasperated breath. “Only trouble is, I was so busy testing everyone else, I forgot to test myself! Then I got all wrapped up in getting the application right. Everything with this virus is such a mess. There’s such a shortage of tests. CDC refused the WHO’s design because it had to make its own test. You know, we’re so exceptional. Of course, we had to come up with our own test.”
“If Liz thinks everyone should be tested, you should be too.” Brenda narrowed her eyes to make her point. “You will, won’t you?”
“If I have time tomorrow.”
Sinead returned and placed a glass of wine in front of Cherie. “Would you like some time with the menu, or do you know what you want?”
“I’ll have the stuffed haddock special,” said Brenda, who’d had plenty of time to decide.
“I haven’t even looked at the menu, but that sounds good,” Cherie said. “I’ll have it too.”
“Wonderful,” said Sinead, “you won’t regret it.” She collected the menus and headed back to the hostess desk.
“What’s this?” asked Cherie, looking at the basket of fries covered with brown sauce. “Poutine? How fun!”
“It’s Irish poutine,” Brenda explained. “I haven’t even tasted it yet. Let’s see. I never really liked the Canadian kind.”
Brenda carefully watched Cherie’s face, pleased to see it brighten at the taste. “It’s good. Try it.” She took Brenda’s plate and spooned on some of the gooey mixture. Brenda tasted a few fries, found it was good and helped herself to more.
Cherie glanced around the pub. “This place is dead tonight.”
“Usually is this time of year. They’ll have a big crowd this week for St. Patrick’s Day. Then the place dies until about the end of April.”
“I heard they closed the Hobbs schools today,” said Cherie, helping herself to more poutine.
Brenda nodded. “A lot of people are worried, and I don’t blame them. I’m worried too. All those people dying in Italy. Scary.”
“It is scary…very scary.”
“Did you watch the emergency selectmen’s meeting on Wednesday?” asked Brenda.
Cherie swallowed before answering. “I did. I never miss seeing you on TV.”
“Did I look okay?” asked Brenda anxiously.
Cherie’s eyes smiled in amusement. “You always look okay. More than okay.”
Brenda audibly sighed in relief. “There’s a new selectman…I should say selectwoman…who annoys the shit out of me.” She glanced up at Cherie. “Pardon the language.”
“I’ve heard that word before,” Cherie said, “but thanks for the apology.”
Brenda nodded an acknowledgement. “The woman moved up here three years ago. Now she thinks she should run the whole town. She has one of those big houses on Gull Island. Thinks she knows everything.” Brenda rubbed her fingers together. “Money.”
Cherie frowned. “I think I know who you mean. She sure had a lot to say at last night’s meeting.”
“Republican. Town is full of them.” Brenda lowered her voice. “I think she’s gay.”
“There are some gay Republicans, you know,” said Cherie.
“So, I hear. I just don’t understand it. How can any woman vote for them?”
Brenda looked up from her plate to see Cherie regarding her curiously. “I guess you’re not Republican,” she said.
“God no! Are you?”
“No,” said Cherie with a little laugh.
Brenda mimed wiping imaginary sweat from her brow. “Thank God. That’s a relief.”
“What would you have done if I were? Drop me?”
“No,” said Brenda, drawing out the word. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “But it would have taken some adjusting.”
“I’m surprised you’re not a Republican. A lot of cops are.”
“A lot of blues went to the dark side after Reagan started playing the race card. I wasn’t one of them. I went to school with black kids. I worked with officers of all ethnicities. My father had a black partner when he was still on patrol. I grew up calling him Uncle Dave. He really went out of his way to look after our family after Dad was shot.”
She watched Cherie’s calm eyes evaluating her words but couldn’t read her judgment. Cherie turned her attention back to her meal.
“If you don’t mind, let’s not talk about politics. I’m fried tonight and could use a break.”
Brenda instantly worried that she had burdened Cherie. “I’m sorry.”
Cherie shook her head. “I think we could all use a break from politics. I have outrage overload. Let’s talk about something else.”
Sinead came with their dinner plates. “Anything else I can get you ladies?” she asked as she collected their appetizer plates and picked up the empty basket that had held the poutine. “Guess you liked it.”
“Delicious,” said Brenda.
“Told you so. You need to trust me.”
Cherie’s eyes followed Sinead as she walked away. “She seems to know you pretty well.”
“Oh, I come in here a lot when I’m lonely, and I want to see other humans.”
Cherie made a sad face. “I’m sorry you’re lonely.”
“Thank you, but things are looking up since I met you,” Brenda replied with a smile.
She hungrily dug into her meal. “So, what would you like to talk about instead of politics?”
Cherie raised a forkful of fish to her mouth. After she tasted it, she smiled. “Food is good here.” She took another bite and chewed appreciatively. “What shows do you watch on TV?”
“Cop shows.”
“How did I know you would say that?”
“They make me laugh. Everything is always so dramatic. The perps are always big shots. Real police work isn’t like that. A lot of it is really boring. What do you watch?”
“I’m not a big TV fan. My father is usually hogging the big screen in the living room. I watch a lot of BBC series on my laptop.” She gave Brenda a long critical look. “Speaking of which, I still can’t get over how much you look like Sarah Lancashire in Happy Valley.”
“Never saw it.”
“Would you like to? It’s on Amazon Prime.”
“Maybe. When?”
“After we eat. I might be able to convince Daddy to watch TV in his bedroom. Then we could stream it to the big screen.”
“Tonight?” It was a Friday night. Brenda had no duty the next day and could stand to get home a little later. “That sounds like fun.” She began to eat faster at the thought.
When Sinead brought the bill to the table, Brenda snatched away the plastic folder. “My treat,” she said, “and I’m not taking any argument from you.”
“Well, thanks,” said Cherie, “but can I, at least, leave the tip?”
“Okay, but I always give Sinead a good tip. She works hard for the money. She’s a teacher and this is her side gig to pay the rent.”
“Ten dollars enough?”
Brenda glanced at the bill and did a quick mental calculation. “Fifteen.”
Cherie opened her purse, fished in her wallet and took out a twenty. “Okay?”
“Generous, but thank you. Sinead will appreciate it.”
The cold was biting when they opened the door. Apparently, March still had some chilly blasts to offer before it went out like a lamb.
“I’ll meet you there,” said Cherie as she climbed into her Subaru. “Think you can find it?”
It took Brenda a moment to realize that Cherie was messing with her. “I’ll try,” she said.
