The Perfect Plan

by Carina Taylor

  "You're horrible. I hope you realize that."

  "I'm sure if you keep reminding me, I'll believe it someday. Now, don't lose grandma's address, and call me when you get there so I know you found it okay."

  "You're the worst friend," she said and then hung up on him.

  Evan wasn't sure if that meant she was still going to stay with his grandma or not. It was hard to tell with Libby. He did think she would enjoy her time with his grandma. He knew she was a hard worker. He knew she was kind. He knew she had a sarcastic sense of humor. He also knew she and his grandma could easily cause all sorts of trouble together.

  The problem was that Grandma was an independent woman and enjoyed working and entertaining people in her home. She was involved in her community and had no intention of moving away from Colter. She told Evan she would rather go skydiving without a parachute than move into a senior home in Portland.

  In the past year, Grandma had called ten times, saying she locked her keys in the car. Then Evan and Charlene would drive down to bring her a spare key, eat dinner with her, and spend a couple of hours in Colter. It had reached the point where both Evan and his mother were worried she would do something forgetful at her house, like leave the stove on, and get hurt.

  But Grandma had threatened them with bodily harm if they tried to move her into the senior home. Evan promised his mom that he would take care of everything. When his mother had told him to find a companion for Grandma, it had taken him five minutes to come up with the perfect solution. He knew his grandma would love having Libby there.

  Grandma could stay in Colter with her friends, Libby would have somewhere safe to stay over the summer, and it would buy Evan and his mother time to come up with a permanent solution — something better than the terrible caretaker they had hired earlier that year.

  It would be good for Libby to have somewhere to belong, even if it was only for a couple months. His grandmother was the perfect candidate — adventurous, a touch crazy, and loved to love people. Grandma would take the task of making Libby feel welcome as seriously as a minister at a funeral.

  And it bought Evan time to plan out exactly how he would convince Libby to date him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LIBBY'S CAR CREAKED as she drove into Colter. She had officially arrived in the boondocks. She drove past large open fields, rolling hills, and admired the mountain ranges in the distance. Trees were sprinkled throughout everything.

  Libby had never seen so many tractors in her life as when she drove up the interstate. The Willamette Valley was an agricultural hub of activity. She got a much closer look at the tractors when she turned off the interstate and got stuck behind one driving fifteen miles per hour down the middle of the road. Google Maps had predicted she would arrive in Colter a half hour after she exited the freeway. It took her nearly two, driving behind that tractor.

  Now that she was finally in Colter, she wasn't sure why she had felt rushed. There was nothing here to see. The tallest building was a small white church with a steeple, and the most prominent landmark was the bridge over the river when she first drove into town.

  Libby checked her phone quickly to make sure the year was still 2019. The buildings were old but well maintained to the point of looking brand new. She could see neighborhoods just off Main Street. Small but cute homes that looked like a flashback to the fifties lined the side streets. Businesses lined Main Street. An antique shop and thrift store shared one large brick building. The gas station parking lot was gravel, and a small grocery store was on the bottom floor of a three-story building — the second tallest building in town.

  Libby glanced down the side streets as her car chugged along.

  She spotted what looked like a school down one of them, a trailer park down another, and some warehouse-looking building that she couldn't read the sign on.

  Turning to face the main road again, she started to speed up to the full fifteen miles per hour until she saw a dog lying in the middle of the road. It looked like it had been hit.

  Libby slammed on her brakes (luckily, they worked this time) and turned her flashers on (hopefully those still worked) before bailing out of the car.

  The poor dog had been run over — probably by a horse and carriage. She knelt next to the fat yellow lab and slowly reached out to touch its side. The dog sat up and barked.

  Libby jumped back. At least it wasn't dead.

  The pooch leapt up and tried to climb onto Libby's lap. He began licking her face in a friendly welcome. It seemed like he hadn't been hurt at all.

  She glanced around, but there was only one person on the sidewalk, and he was a gray-haired gentleman taking a nap on a bench. He didn't look like he was ready to help with a stray dog. Libby grabbed the dog's collar and looked at the tag.

  Carl. Colter Town Mascot.

  Now she had heard of everything. A town mascot that greeted newcomers.

  Libby pulled out her phone and called the first person she always called when there was a crisis.

  "Libby, you've been calling me a lot lately."

  "Evan, that's not important. There's a dog in the street. I thought he'd been hit, but I think he was taking a nap. What should I do with him?"

  "Oh, I forgot to warn you about Carl. He likes to stop cars he doesn't recognize." Evan laughed.

  "This is insane. A dog can't wander around like this; he could get hurt."

  "No one in their right mind would hurt Carl. If you're really worried about it, you can take him to Grandma's with you."

  "I can't steal a dog!"

  She could hear Evan sigh all the way through the phone. "It's not stealing. He's going to chase your car anyway, might as well give him a ride. Now, I've got to go, I'm heading into orientation at work."

  The phone went silent, and Libby was left staring at Carl.

  He was big. He was happy. He had bad breath. And Libby didn't feel comfortable taking him anywhere. She made her way back to the car. Sitting down, she reached over to shut the door just as Carl made a flying leap on top of her.

  He'd made the decision for her.

  "Oomph, you big oaf, ouch!" Claws dug into her legs, and a large tongue licked her face as it passed by. Carl made himself comfortable in the passenger seat and turned to look at her.

  "What? Not too old to play dead in the street, but walking a block is too much for you? Don't start thinking this is going to be a habit, because it's not."

  Carl nodded as though he understood then looked out the window expectantly.

  "And I'll have no back seat driving from you. I'll go when I'm good and ready," Libby grumbled. Shoving the gearshift into first, she moseyed down the street about thirty feet and took a left on Maple. She wouldn't be surprised if she could see the house from here.

  As it turned out, she couldn't see the house from Main Street. The neighborhood was larger than she expected. It was filled with beautiful old homes with manicured lawns that put gated communities to shame.

  The houses looked at least a hundred years old with detailed molding on the outside that showed the intricate work of a past age. A middle-aged woman stood in her lawn, watering several bushes, but turned to stare as Libby drove past, watering her sidewalk instead. Libby waved tentatively, and the woman tripped on the hose.

  Three homes stood at the end of the road at the curve of the cul-de-sac. Engraved plaques in the front yards declared the homes to have been built in 1880, 1881, and 1882. The one in the middle was the tallest of the three. Standing three stories high, with similar molding to the other houses, it was the most striking house on the street. The address on the three-story house matched the address Evan had texted her.

  Libby pulled into the driveway and shut off the car, glad that she wouldn't be living in a shack all summer long. She texted Vivian to let her know she had made it safely. Then, she texted Evan a selfie of her with Carl.

  Evan: You make a lovely couple.

  Libby: I'm buying him a toothbrush.

  She sent off the last text
then stepped out of the car and waited for Carl to make his bumbling exit.

  He didn't disappoint.

  He tried to make a flying leap from the car, but he bumped against the steering wheel. This sent him straight into Libby's knees and toppled both of them to the ground.

  Libby glared at him as she untangled their limbs and stood up. He was fat enough that there probably wasn't much weight difference between the two of them.

  "Next time, be more careful," she lectured, slamming the door and walking up the sidewalk toward the house.

  Terra-cotta pots filled with flowers lined the walkway leading up to the house. Hanging pots full of colorful petunias added splashes of color to the white porch. Libby knocked on the screen door and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  She opened the screen door and knocked on the hardwood door.

  Nothing.

  Trying two more times, she began to worry that something may have already happened to Marcie.

  She called out, "Hello? Is anyone home?"

  Carl brushed past her and headed around the side of the house toward the backyard. "Carl, come back!"

  Carl's selective hearing kicked in. He ignored her and continued into the backyard. Libby followed him around the side of the house and saw that the cedarwood gate to the backyard stood open. She stopped in the opening.

  "Hello?" she called.

  No one answered. Libby glanced around.

  The yard was turf green and looked as though it had been recently mowed, the wheel lines from the mower perfectly visible in a criss-cross pattern.

  Fresh bark surrounded the flowerbeds that lined the tall cedar fence. A patio at the back of the house was built from flagstone, and a path led to a small white gazebo. A small shed matched the dark gray of the house, and the trim remained blindingly white. A tiny cottage sat at the back left corner of the yard, matching colors with the house and shed. There was a wooden bridge built over a small pond in the opposite corner of the cottage. Having never had a yard growing up, Libby felt like she had stepped into a little piece of paradise.

  Libby spotted a pair of legs sticking out from beneath a line of shrubs. It appeared as though they were trimming the underside of the hedge. Did people do that? This yard maintenance man deserved a raise.

  "Excuse me," Libby called as she approached the legs. "I'm looking for Marcie Garber. She wasn't answering the door. I was wondering if you had seen her.”

  It would be just her luck to lose her charge before she'd even met her.

  The figure mumbled something that Libby couldn't hear as they crawled out from under the hedge. A woman with white hair pulled back with a clip emerged from the hedge and stood on shaky legs.

  Her makeup was done with a light touch, and she had pale green eyes. She was the same height as Libby but twice as wide — not difficult to be when Libby was so fine-boned. Dirt smudged across the woman's brow gave testimony that she had indeed been the one under the bush. She looked like she was somewhere in her seventies. And she looked just like the picture Evan had shown her of his grandma.

  "Ah, so you're my roommate for the summer. Evan told me to expect you sometime this week," she said as she peeled off her gardening gloves.

  Libby stared into the woman's eyes — eyes she had seen before. They were the exact shade of green as Evan's eyes.

  The picture Evan had shown her of Marcie didn't do the woman justice. There was a vibrant air that surrounded her that a picture couldn't capture. Not to mention, she didn't think anyone over the age of seventy trimmed their own bushes. "Wait, you're Evan's grandmother?"

  With a laugh, she replied, "Of course. Not what you expected? Well, I'm sure you're not to blame. My daughter-in-law and grandson think I've got a foot in the grave. They probably told you that."

  "Really? No, oh no." Libby tried to downplay Evan's description but relented when Marcie looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I guess so. When he hired me, I was expecting someone close to an invalid. You're not that." Libby was still stunned that this was the woman who needed babysitting for the summer — the woman who was spry enough to trim the underside of shrubs. What could she possibly need help with? The outside of the house had been spotless, and obviously this woman did her own yard work. That didn't scream caregiver-worthy.

  Marcie frowned briefly before a pleasant smile settled on her face. "Hired, huh? Well, I am happy to say I'm about the furthest thing from an invalid. I'm Marcie."

  "Nice to meet you. I'm Libby Morris."

  "So tell me, Evan hired you? What did he hire you to do? He didn't mention that part to me when we FaceTimed the other day. And he only sent me a Snapchat this morning that you were on your way."

  Libby's sneaking suspicion that this lady didn't need a caregiver was getting stronger by the minute. She had a smartphone. She used Snapchat.

  Didn't that automatically make you young? Marcie couldn't be that far gone yet, could she? Then again, Libby didn't know anything about how dementia worked. She probably should have researched that before she came here.

  "That boy and his mother worry needlessly," Marcie continued as if Libby had answered her. "They're so sure I'm on death's doorstep. If they bothered to come out here and visit, they would see that I'm doing just fine. Do you like coffee or tea? I could make a cup. All this gardening has made me thirsty."

  "Coffee sounds great." Libby followed Marcie across the lawn and onto a large back porch with white railing.

  "Don't worry about your shoes," Marcie said as she stepped through the door. Libby followed her inside. The door opened into a galley kitchen with a breakfast nook in a large bay window.

  Marcie had pulled a coffee pot from the cupboard next to the sink and set about making a fresh pot of coffee.

  "Would you mind kicking that dog outside? He smells like he's been rolling in roadkill again," Marcie asked.

  Libby turned around to find that Carl had slipped inside and sat in the center of the kitchen, grinning at them.

  Libby ushered the dog outside and gave him a pat on the head. He gave her a look that nearly broke her heart. "Next time, clean up before you sneak inside," Libby whispered to him with another scratch under his chin. She walked back inside, but she could feel Carl's eyes on her through the window.

  The coffee brewed quickly, and Marcie poured them each a mug. After mixing in cream and sugar, she set the cups down on the table and motioned to a chair.

  "Now, why don't you sit down, and we'll have a chat."

  Libby wondered if this was how criminals felt when they were called to the witness stand.

  "What brings you all the way to Colter, and how did Evan convince you to do it?"

  Waving her hand at Libby's open mouth, she said, "There's no need to pretend with me. I know my grandson is worried about me. His mother already tried to hire a caregiver. The woman she sent here was always trying to take my blood pressure. She brought a wheelchair, for goodness’ sake. And then she proceeded to try and steal me blind. Charlene hasn't sent another one since. Said something about not wanting a lawsuit on her hands after the trauma that woman endured. Maybe if all thieves endured a little trauma, there would be a lower crime rate in this world. Besides, I only shot out one of her taillights. But I'm getting off track. So tell me, why did Evan hire you?"

  Libby sank into the chair and grasped the coffee cup before her. Her head was spinning as she tried to keep up with Marcie's explanation. She wondered what Marcie would do if she didn't like Libby's answer. Libby only had one working taillight for her to shoot out. Maybe Marcie would pick the broken one.

  At the same time, Libby felt an inexplicable need to defend Evan. Evan loved Marcie. He even said that he would be driving down as much as possible to see her and check on her. He was genuinely worried something would happen to Marcie in between the weekends. Now that Libby had met Marcie, she could see that that worry was misplaced, but Evan meant well with his actions.

  Not wanting to offend Marcie, she decided a long sip of coffee mi
ght buy her some time. As she gulped it down, she tried to not spit out the chalky textured drink. Something wasn't right with that coffee. Placing her mug on the table, she looked up into Marcie's eager eyes.

  "Well, it's rather hard to explain. I'm not sure where to begin.”

  "Are you and Evan dating?"

  Libby's eyes widened before she replied. "Nope. We're just friends."

  "You don't owe me an explanation," Marcie chuckled.

  Libby heaved a sigh of relief. She was afraid if she spoke about him too long, she would give herself away.

  "He's a good friend."

  Marcie smiled. "He's such a sweet boy. Tell me what brings you to Colter."

  Libby firmly believed that honesty was the best policy. But at that moment, she wanted to tell a lie. She wished she could tell her something, anything, that didn't involve her being hired as a caregiver.

  She mumbled the truth while she took a big gulp of the gross coffee.

  Marcie leaned forward. "What was that you said?"

  Libby set the cup down and glanced toward the back door. "He hired me as a caregiver this summer since I had nothing else to do and hadn't found an apartment yet. I'm an accountant, and I have a job that's starting in Portland at the beginning of October. I hadn't thought much past college and getting a job, so I didn't have anything planned for this summer. He took advantage of my poor planning."

  "Aha, I should have known they wouldn't give up on the whole caregiver idea. You must have gone to college down in California with Evan then."

  "Yeah, University of San Francisco. We lived next door to each other. I haven't found an apartment in Portland yet, but I'm sure something will open up. You obviously don't need someone to take care of you. Besides, my old roommate is getting settled in a new apartment in San Francisco, so I can stay with her over the summer."

  Marcie didn't reply, so Libby carried her mug to the kitchen sink where she washed it and set it in the dish rack to dry. She tried to ignore the pile of dirty dishes sitting in the kitchen sink.

  It was a shame she didn't need to be a companion for Marcie. The lady seemed enjoyable, full of life. There was a bright presence that surrounded her. But Libby wasn't needed here. She didn't know what Evan was thinking, hiring her to move here. She hadn't realized that knowing she had a place to stay for the summer had taken off a load of stress. That stress was creeping back now that she had to think of where to go. Maybe there was room in the group home with Jax.