by Bobbi Holmes
“In fairness, she didn’t know Walt was there to help Sadie understand what we needed of her.”
Ignoring Danielle’s comment, Lily added, “And remember how Kelly locked Sadie out of Connor’s room when she first babysat him?”
“Babysitting someone else’s child is a tremendous responsibility, and some dogs—”
“Oh, stop, Dani! You asked how they were alike.”
Danielle grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry, go on.”
“They are both kinda in everyone’s business.”
Danielle nodded. “Yeah, I see that with Kelly.”
“Kelly is Ian’s mom’s mini-me. And Ian adores both his sister and mom—which he should. I try to keep my mouth shut. So please, say nothing.”
“I understand. Families are complicated,” Danielle said.
“And then my mother…” Lily began.
“I love your mom.” Danielle grinned.
“So do I. But when she and Ian’s mom get together, it’s like this mother competition. Or should I say grandma competition? They each have their own way of doing things—which is fine. I do too. But having some distance between them just makes things a little easier. As it is, I have to deal with Kelly practically every day. But put both the moms together with us for two weeks, each telling me how I’m doing it wrong—how I should do it.” Lily groaned again. “This sounds awful, but I’m really glad none of them live in Frederickport.”
“It’s only for two weeks. You can do this. And just be grateful you have them,” Danielle gently reminded her.
“That is one thing I hate about you, Dani.”
Danielle frowned. “What?”
“You always make me feel so guilty when I complain about my family, when you don’t have a family to complain about.” Lily slumped back in the chair again.
Danielle laughed. “I’m sorry, Lily. You can complain to me, and I’ll try to keep my Pollyanna, count-your-blessings comments to myself.”
Heather didn’t mean to spy on her crabby neighbor Pearl. She was looking for her calico cat, Bella, and was afraid the mischievous feline had slipped next door to visit Pearl’s flower garden. But when she peeked over Pearl’s fence, she saw her neighbor doing her own bit of spying.
Pearl’s backside faced Heather as she crouched by the side fence separating her property from Marlow House. It tempted Heather to say something, but pressure on her right foot distracted her.
Glancing down to her feet, Heather saw Bella weaving in and out around her ankles. Leaning down to pick up the cat, Heather heard the purring. “How did you get outside?” Heather whispered to the petite feline. Now holding Bella in her arms, she glanced back over the fence. Pearl remained glued to the back fence, her backside sticking out like it needed to be smacked. Heather wished Marie was there to do it.
Curious to see what Pearl was watching, she refrained from calling out to her neighbor and instead continued down the street to the side gate at Marlow House, Bella in her arms.
The sound of the side gate opening stopped their conversation. Both Lily and Danielle looked that way. A moment later Heather walked into the yard, carrying her cat.
“Hey, Heather,” Danielle called out, followed by another greeting from Lily to Heather.
“Look out, you’re being watched,” Heather whispered loudly when she was in earshot.
“We are?” Danielle asked.
Heather glanced briefly to the fence separating Pearl’s yard from Marlow House. A moment later she sat down in one of the empty yard chairs and told them what she had seen. Bella remained on her lap while Heather gently stroked the cat’s back.
“Is she still there?” Lily asked, looking that way.
Heather shrugged. “I guess. I was hoping she was watching something exciting over here. She must be really bored if she has to spy on you two drinking…” Heather looked at the glasses. “Is that lemonade or margaritas?”
Danielle laughed. “No, lemonade. Want some?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” Heather looked at Lily and asked, “Where is my little buddy?”
“I assume you mean Connor. He’s napping,” Lily said.
“We were just talking about his birthday party,” Danielle said.
“No. We were talking about my family descending on us for two weeks,” Lily said.
“Aren’t they all staying at Marlow House?” Heather asked.
“Yeah.” Lily let out a sigh.
“Hey, not to change the subject, but guess what I saw Adam doing this morning,” Heather said.
“You never know with Adam.” Danielle grinned.
“What?” Lily asked.
“I think he took the Winterborne ring out of his safe deposit box,” Heather began. “I went to the bank this morning, and Adam was coming out of the safe deposit area, carrying a small box. Like a ring box. I was standing in line, and he didn’t see me. And then a few minutes later, when I went outside, he was sitting in his car, looking at something. I walked up to the car, knocked on the window, and he about jumped out of his skin. He was looking at whatever was in the box, and he immediately closed it, and from what I saw, it looked like the ring.”
“I wonder if he found a buyer for it,” Danielle mused.
“What did he say?” Lily asked.
“He said nothing, didn’t even roll his window down. Adam just waved, gave me a goofy smile, and drove away. And then an hour later, you know what I saw?”
“What?” both Danielle and Lily chorused.
“Adam in the car with Melony,” Heather said.
“It’s possible Mel found a buyer for the ring,” Danielle suggested.
Heather rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, the way he was looking at that ring, he was thinking something else.”
“Something else like what?” Danielle asked.
“Like a man preparing to propose,” Heather suggested.
Danielle frowned at Heather. “Why, because he was looking at the ring all goofy?”
Heather nodded. “Yep.”
Lily laughed. “Heather, that is how Adam looks at anything that’s worth a lot of money.”
Danielle looked to Lily and said, “Exactly.”
Heather let out a snort. “Brother, you two are so unromantic. Is that what happens when you get married?”
Danielle flashed Heather a grin and said, “Marie would be all over your scenario, but knowing those two, they’re probably taking it to a buyer. Although, as much as Marie likes Mel, I imagine a part of her would be happy if some woman who wanted to have kids snagged Adam.”
“Hey, I understand Mel and Adam not wanting kids. I don’t want kids,” Heather said.
Lily frowned at Heather. “But you’re terrific with Connor.”
Heather grinned at Lily. “I adore Connor. But it doesn’t mean I want kids of my own. I mean seriously, do I really want to pass down serial-killer genes to a new generation?”
“I understand if you don’t want kids, but I hope you’re kidding about the serial-killer thing. I don’t believe anyone is born a killer. It’s how a kid is raised,” Danielle said.
Heather sighed. “I’m kidding… a little. No, not really. Didn’t you ever see The Bad Seed? The old movie from the fifties?”
Lily shivered. “Oh, I remember the movie. That little girl was creepy.”
“And it was fiction,” Danielle reminded them.
Heather shrugged. “Not a chance I want to take. And speaking of creepy, did you hear the city is trying to sell the Marymoor site? Chris told me this morning. Adam told him.”
“Did Adam get the listing?” Lily asked.
“No. And I doubt he wanted it,” Heather said.
“That’s an enormous piece of property,” Danielle said. “Are they going to subdivide it into smaller residential lots?”
“I don’t think so,” Heather said.
“Can you imagine someone building a house on that site?” Lily gave a shiver. “I remember the bloody nurse Dani saw over there. Sure, only med
iums will likely see her, but what about little kids like Connor? I wonder if the kids in that neighborhood ever see anything.”
Three
June Bartley stood in the middle of the den, surrounded by moving boxes, her hands resting on her hips, while her husband, John, sat nearby at his desk.
Looking up from the laptop, John peered over his reading glasses, watching his wife as she glanced around the room. “You need to sit down,” John insisted. “Rest. You’ve done enough today.”
“But there is so much to do!” June insisted. “We leave for Frederickport in less than two weeks. I have the rest of this house to pack up.”
John removed his reading glasses and set them on the desk. He rubbed his eyes briefly with his right thumb before saying, “The moving company will do that. Why do you keep insisting on boxing everything up yourself? That’s why we’re hiring them.”
Reluctantly, June took a seat on the recliner, facing her husband. “But we’ve never used a mover before.”
“That’s because we’ve lived in this house forever, never was a need to hire a mover before. We’re too darn old to move ourselves. We aren’t kids anymore.”
June cocked her head slightly and looked at her husband. “Are you going to be sad to leave this house?”
“This has been a good house. Lots of fond memories. But am I feeling sentimental and reluctant to move? No. You?”
June grinned. “I love this house, but I’m ready to move. Ready for a change. And the time is right.”
“And the grandkids,” John teased.
June’s smile widened. “Especially the grandkids. I don’t want to rush Kelly, but now that her and Joe are officially engaged, I assume they’ll be starting a family. And when they do, I don’t want to be so far from them. And I want to spend more time with Connor. As it is now, he knows that Heather girl more than he does me.”
“I don’t think a neighbor who babysits occasionally will replace a grandmother,” John insisted.
June shrugged. “I don’t want to be strangers to our grandchildren. Someone they just see a couple of times a year. I want to be part of their lives, go to Connor’s baseball games. I want to be there when Kelly has her baby.”
“They haven’t even set a date,” John reminded her. “Let’s not get her with child yet.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I hope we don’t regret not calling that Realtor friend of Ian’s before we get there. He could have a rental all lined up for us,” John said.
“I want this to be a surprise. He might say something to Ian, and that would ruin the surprise. Come on, aren’t you excited to see the expression on Ian’s face when we tell him we’re moving to Frederickport?”
“You mean when we tell him we’ve already moved to Frederickport?” John asked with a laugh. “When we get there, we’ll technically be homeless, with all our worldly goods in storage and someone else living in this house.”
“He’s going to be surprised. Ian never believed we would ever leave this house.”
“We still should have a rental lined up,” John said.
“What if we find a house to buy? It would be silly to move into a rental first,” June said.
“I want to build our last house,” John reminded her. “But even if we bought a house instead, it would take more than a month in escrow, and we can’t stay at Marlow House that long. Either way, we’re going to need a rental.”
June let out a sigh. “I suppose. But it’s only a couple of weeks now.”
“I just hope he’s going to be happy about it,” John said with a snort.
June rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. He’s going to be thrilled. And Lily will finally have someone to watch Connor, so she doesn’t have to rely on those neighbors. I’m sure she’s eager to go back to teaching. This way she can do it without worrying about Connor because I can watch him. And since Ian works from home, I’m sure he’ll be more comfortable having me there instead of some stranger. And I can always make Ian lunch and get dinner started for Lily.”
“Who’s going to make lunch for me?” John teased.
“I know you. If you end up building our house, you’re going to be busy the next year. You can always stop by Ian’s and have lunch with us.”
“I’m looking forward to this next phase in our life,” John said.
June let out a sigh. “Me too.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Finally, John asked, “What are you thinking?”
June looked up at her husband. “That tattoo.”
John chuckled. “I assume you’re talking about Lily’s dragon tattoo?”
“I loathe that thing.” June cringed. “It’s going to be so embarrassing for Connor when he grows up, and his mother has that gawd awful thing on her arm. It’s so tacky. I wish she’d wear long sleeves.”
“It’s hardly Lily’s fault. Anyway, it seems like all the women their age have tattoos now.”
“Kelly doesn’t,” June reminded him.
“I know. But like I said, it’s not Lily’s fault.”
“She could have had it removed. Instead, she added another tattoo to the arm.”
“Ian said removing it would leave a scar, something about the ink,” John said.
“A scar would be more respectable than a huge tattoo. I just wish she didn’t have it.”
“I’m sure she wishes she didn’t have it too,” John gently reminded her.
June let out a sigh. “I’m being petty. Whatever you do, don’t tell our son what I said about Lily’s arm. He’s so protective of her.”
“Well, she is his wife.”
June stood up. “I’m going to start dinner. I can do more packing in the morning.”
John didn’t bother trying to convince his wife to leave the packing to the movers. Instead, he picked up his reading glasses, put them on, and turned his attention back to the computer. After a couple of clicks on the computer, he opened the Realtor.com website and entered “Frederickport, Oregon.” While his wife wanted to consider existing houses, he searched for residential lot listings. He had been looking every day for the past month, hoping something would pop up. Of course, it was always possible there were residential lots for sale in town by owner and not listed on the website. Those he would have to look for when they got to Frederickport.
Ten minutes later June returned to the den to ask John if he wanted salad or coleslaw with dinner, but before she could get the question out, he blurted, “You have to see this!”
“See what?” She frowned, walking to the computer.
“A new piece of residential property just went on the market today. This won’t last,” he said excitedly.
“Why do you say that?” She stood behind his desk chair, peering over his shoulder at the computer monitor.
“It’s a great price,” he began, enlarging the webpage so she could better see.
“That looks kinda expensive,” she muttered, noting the price.
“Not for the size of the lot, it’s huge. It’s in a residential neighborhood. If we could subdivide, I could build a couple of spec houses.”
“No. If you want to build our house, I’m fine with that. You said you were going to retire,” she reminded him.
“I just suggested it might be a possibility. Here, look at the pictures.” He started a slide show of the listing photographs. June leaned over his shoulder, looking closer at the monitor.
“Wow, that is nice,” she muttered. Some photographs were of the neighborhood.
“Looks like a beautiful area,” John said.
“Is it far from Ian’s house?” she asked.
“According to the map, walking distance.”
“Connor could walk to Grandma’s house.” June smiled at the thought.
“I think he’s a little young for that,” he teased.
June playfully swatted John’s shoulder and said, “Hush.” She looked back at the pictures.
“It’s nic
e and flat. It won’t need much grading, and it has a view,” John said.
“We could make our own little park, where the grandkids could come and play.”
“There is a nice tree on it. That might make an ideal spot for a tree house,” John suggested.
“Let me see the pictures again,” June said after the slide show finished playing.
John grinned at his wife and then replayed the slide show.
When it finished playing, June let out a sigh and said, “It really is nice. I think we should make an offer.”
“It went on the market today. It’s not going to last long. I imagine it’ll be gone when we get to Frederickport.”
“Then call that Realtor friend of Ian’s. Make an offer on the property,” June insisted.
John turned from the computer and looked up at his wife. “Are you serious?”
June grinned. “Yes. It’s perfect. But you need to tell him not to say anything to anyone, especially our son. I want this to be a surprise.”
“Do you still have his business card?”
“Of course.” June dropped a quick kiss on her husband’s cheek and said, “I’ll go get it.”
Adam Nichols sat alone in his office, his feet on his desk as he leaned back in the chair. In his hands he held a small ring box, its lid open. He studied the ring inside. The box hadn’t come with the ring. When the Winterborne engagement ring had fairly flown from the frame’s secret compartment, it hadn’t been in a box. Adam glanced up to the wall and noted the framed photograph of his great-grandfather—the same frame that had once held the Winterborne engagement ring.
Just as he looked back at the ring in his hands, his phone rang. With a sigh, he closed the box, tossed it on his desk, and picked up his phone’s receiver, his feet still on his desk.
“Adam Nichols here. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Adam, I don’t know if you remember me, John Bartley, Ian’s father,” came the male voice on the other side of the line.
Adam sat up straighter and removed his feet from the desktop, setting them on the floor.
“Why certainly,” Adam said. “How can I help you?”
