"Not that hungry tonight?" Bobby asked.
"Ha. Ha."
Actually, I hadn't had much of an appetite until I walked in the door. The smells had done my stomach good. The hint of garlic, the soy sauce. Steamed vegetables.
It helped that with a full mouth I really couldn't talk.
I wished Bobby would eat more. He'd been rambling since we sat down about this and that. Nerves.
He was nervous.
About talking.
With me.
About something important.
I reached for another egg roll and took a sip of my water with lemon. The one strike against Magic Sun was that they didn't carry Dr Pepper. I forgave them because of the egg rolls.
Bobby pushed his plate aside. "Nina, we really need to talk."
Mouth full, I said, "We've been talking." Okay, he'd been talking. I'd been chewing.
He put his elbows on the table, leaned in. His dark blue eyes told me this was serious.
I'd known that, though, hadn't I?
I set my half-eaten egg roll down, pushed my plate aside too.
"All right." I put my elbows on the table in complete defiance of every one of my mother's manner lessons.
"I know you've been preoccupied lately, what with the death and all."
Great. I hadn't even been thinking of that. I'd been too wound up in what Bobby was going to say, do.
Now all I could see was Russ Grabinsky's stick figure outline in my head.
The egg rolls weren't sitting too well.
"Nina?"
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
I nodded.
"Well, I have something I have to ask you. Something important. That I need you to think about. I know it's bad timing, but I need to know."
I braced myself. Was this really it? Was he asking me to marry him? Here? In the Magic Sun? If I said yes, would they put our picture over this little booth?
But I wasn't saying yes, was I? I couldn't. Not with Kevin, not with everything going on.
"Are you listening, Nina?"
I looked at Bobby. He was everything a girl could want. Everything. I wasn't blind. I saw his faults. Actually . . . I tried to think of a fault.
There had to be something.
"Nina?"
"Hmm?"
"Listening?"
I loved him. I did. It was a mixed-up sort of love, to be sure, because of all my confused feelings about Kevin, but it was love.
But marriage . . .
I couldn't.
It was too much, too soon.
Absolutely not.
No way.
"Nina?"
"Yes!" I shouted. The little Chinese woman tending the buffet dropped a pan of won-tons.
"Sorry," I said.
She hurriedly stuffed won-tons into the pan and looked at me as if I was possessed.
Bobby was smiling. "What?" I asked.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, what? What?" Had I just agreed to marry him when he hadn't even asked?
He shook his head.
I reached for my egg roll.
I had been going to say yes.
Yes.
What was wrong with me?
"Listen."
I swallowed. "I'm listening."
"I've got a job offer. Principal of an elementary school."
"Bobby! That's great!" I leaned over, took his face in my hands and kissed him.
He didn't kiss back.
I sat back. "Not so great? Isn't being a principal what you've wanted?" I noticed there was paint under his short fingernails. White paint. Being a principal meant no more painting houses during the summer.
"It is."
"But?" My stomach started to hurt again.
"It's in Tampa."
"Tampa?"
"Florida."
"Oh."
"I know."
Kevin and I had once taken Riley to Disney World. It took us fourteen hours to drive there. Tampa had to be close to that.
Fourteen hours by car. Three by plane.
It would make dating tough.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stem the tingling in my nose, my eyes.
I would not cry.
This was something Bobby wanted.
Deserved.
"When do you leave?"
He reached across the table, took my hand. "That's just it, Nina."
"What is?"
"I guess that's up to you."
"Me? How?"
"There's only one thing keeping me here."
The tingling started again.
"And I need to know. Do I stay?" He squeezed my hand. "Or do I go?"
Tam was asleep by the time I made it to the hospital. I set Sassy, her African violet, on her bedside table, and I swear the thing looked perkier immediately.
There was evidence my mother had been there, namely the French chocolates and the custom balloon that read "Get well, chérie."
The curtain around Brickhouse's bed was pulled tight. It was just as well. I didn't want to see her right now.
On my way out of the Magic Sun, I'd grabbed a handful of fortune cookies. Not one of them told me what to do with Bobby, though I now had enough lottery numbers for the next month.
He'd kissed me good-bye, helped me into my car, and watched me drive away.
I'd told him I needed some time.
He hadn't looked surprised. Just sad.
Which broke my heart.
Should I stay or should I go?
It was a lot of pressure, and I decided after my fifth fortune cookie, that it wasn't a fair question. To lay that all on me. To let me decide his fate. What if I said stay and then things didn't work out between us? What if I said go and it was the worst mistake I'd ever made?
I sighed, patted Tam's tummy, and turned to go. I hesitated as I walked to the door, feeling slightly guilty that I hadn't even checked on Brickhouse.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I pulled back the curtain around the bed. No need for the guilt.
The bed was empty; Brickhouse was gone.
Monday morning. I popped open a sleep-filled eye, looked at the clock. Six-thirty.
Time to get up.
Instead I dragged my new down comforter over my head.
Monday mornings were supposed to be filled with promise. Of hope that the week ahead would be a good one.
Pipes rattled as Riley flushed the toilet.
I thought it a good harbinger of what my week ahead would be like.
Harbinger.
Heh. Mrs. Krauss would be proud.
I groaned, thinking of Brickhouse. I'd checked with the nurses' station—she'd been discharged. Which meant she was on the loose and could show up anywhere. Anytime.
I shuddered, dragged the covers off my head. "Eeeee!" I screamed when I saw a face looming over me.
"Sorry!" Riley said. "Didn't mean to scare you. Your door was open."
I'd taken to leaving it open since Kevin moved out. I didn't know why and didn't want to pay for the therapy that would tell me.
"Can you drive me to work?"
"This early?" I asked. "Growl doesn't open till eleven. What time are you due in?"
"Ten-thirty."
I blinked at the clock, wondering if I'd read it wrong the first time: 6:36.
Riley saw me looking. "Uncle Bill gave me a key to get in on the mornings I opened."
"A key to a fifteen-year-old?"
"Almost sixteen. And it's for his nephew. Jeez. Do you think I'm going to rob the place? I figure I'd just hang out until Bill gets there, maybe do some cleaning. Stocking. Whatever. I'd leave at ten except I can't skateboard yet," he said, holding up his still-splinted hand, "and Dad's at work . . ."
"I can drive you," I said, tossing covers. "But how about you come to TBS with me until ten?" I didn't want to mention that I was worried about him being alone at Growl until Bill showed up. "You can answer phones."
"Do I get paid?"
I growled. "Yes.
" I thought about what I paid Tam, then subtracted . . . a lot. "Six bucks an hour."
"What? That's barely minimum wage."
"Take it or leave it."
"Take it."
I smiled and headed for my bathroom before I realized I didn't have a bathroom. The demo crew was due at nine. My mother was due at eight. I needed to be out of there before then.
I grabbed my robe. "Did you leave me any hot water?"
"First come, first serve," he said, walking out the door.
Harbingers, indeed.
Seventeen
The chimes sang as I pulled open the TBS door, Riley right on my heels. I stopped short at the sight greeting me, and Riley barreled into me, knocking me to the floor.
Brickhouse clucked. "You're a clumsy one, aren't you?"
I looked up at Riley, who gave me an it-wasn't-my-fault shrug. He did offer me a hand up, though.
I'd take what I could get. "What are you doing here?" I asked Brickhouse.
"Working."
"Working?"
"Miss Tamara hired me. And by the looks of it, none too soon. This place has gone to heck in a handbasket."
Heck. In a handbasket.
I wanted to tell her where she could go in a handbasket.
It wasn't heck.
"Great," Riley said. "What am I going to do now?"
Mrs. Krauss clucked. "I can use a capable assistant, young man. I think you're just what I need. And my, don't you look snazzy?"
Snazzy. Hmmph. I didn't think that was a vocabulary word I ever learned in her English class.
"Uniform. I've got to work later."
"At Growl, right?"
"You've been there?"
"Ach, no. I cannot take such organic food. I get gas."
Way too much information.
"They have medicine for that, you know," Riley said.
I left the two of them to their conversation. It was just past eight. Unfortunately I'd given everyone the day off, so now I'd be alone with Brickhouse.
All day.
I wondered which one of us would survive it.
I wished Kit were coming in. Or Coby. Or Marty. Or anyone. I'd even take Harry von Barber at this point.
With a mini coming up on Wednesday, tomorrow would be filled with meetings, checklists, and confirmation phone calls.
As I sat at my desk, signed onto my server, I couldn't help but think again about cutting back. As it was right now, TBS usually worked two full makeovers and two to three minis a week. It was a lot of work. A lot of hours. Especially during the summer. I didn't want to get burned out. And I wanted my crew to have a life.
Should I stay or should I go?
And possibly me too.
I needed to sit down soon to crunch numbers. Decide which direction to take TBS.
I had meetings booked solid from one till four. At five I had to go meet with Derrick Brandt at his nursery. I had several orders placed, and I wanted to make sure he'd gotten all the materials I needed.
I tapped my pen on my ink-stained blotter and wondered how Tam was doing. Instead of just sitting there thinking about her, I picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. I punched in her room number. No one answered.
Could be she was in the bathroom. Or having tests done.
But I doubted it. She'd sent Brickhouse to work for me.
Knowing how I felt about her.
Tam would be avoiding me like the—
I stopped myself in the nick of time.
Brickhouse's laughter carried through my closed door, grated my nerves.
It was a good thing Tam wasn't around.
I spent some time going through my e-mails, writing some checks. A large one to Stanley Mack. It hurt to write it, but he was worth every cent. His invoice for the Grabinsky job was probably in the mail.
The Lockharts had thankfully paid me up front, in full. But that didn't change the fact that the job hadn't been done yet.
I buzzed Brickhouse through the intercom. "Have there been any messages from Greta Grabinsky?"
"Oh, the woman suing you?"
"You're getting sued?" Riley asked, his voice an octave higher than normal.
Brickhouse clucked. "You didn't know?"
Riley clucked too. God, it was contagious. "No!"
"Hello!" I said. "Messages?"
"You really should share your troubles with your family."
Great. Now a lecture.
"Yeah," Riley piped in.
My jaw clenched. If Brickhouse continued working for me I was going to need to get one of those retainers people wear for TMJ. "Messages?"
"No."
I stabbed the intercom button.
I wondered if Russ's autopsy had been done yet. It was horrible that I hoped the M.E. would find something. Anything that would exonerate me.
There were plenty of people who hated the man, wanted him dead.
Whoever Russ was blackmailing, for one.
Bill was high on that list too.
His employees hated him.
Noreen hated him.
Even Greta had motive if it was true about her horrible marriage.
Yet the prosecutor wanted to file charges against me.
Ridiculous.
I reached in my bottom drawer for a notepad and my breath caught at the sight of the Almond Joys.
The Almond Joys Bobby sent me weekly.
So far I'd done a good job not thinking about him, his job offer, even though I knew I had to at some point soon.
The phone rang, but I let Brickhouse answer. It was apparently what I was paying her for.
A second later her annoying voice came through the speaker on my desk. "Detective Quinn, line one."
"Thanks. I'll take it. Hey," I said, picking up the phone.
"Hey you. How you holding up?"
"Fine." Why was Kevin calling? Had he heard something? "Any word on the murder charges?"
I heard a gasp and yelled, "Hang up, Mrs. Krauss!"
One loud cluck and phone click later, I picked up the conversation.
"Brickhouse is working for you?" Kevin asked.
"Are you laughing? Because it's not funny."
"Is so."
"Tam hired her."
"Then she's staying."
"Pretty much."
"Good thing Tam's safe in the hospital."
"Pretty much."
Because I had to make a decision about Bobby, I asked, "How's Parsley?"
I'd caught him off guard. The silence on his end of the line was telling. "Fine."
It was also telling that he didn't correct Ginger's name, his usual habit. "You two still getting along?"
"You know how I feel about you, Nina. I made that clear already."
A while back he'd asked me, hypothetically, what would happen between us if he realized he'd made a big mistake in leaving.
Even though I still loved him, I hadn't been able to forgive him.
"And it didn't change things," he said, "so what's changed?"
I needed to decide about Bobby, that's what. Which meant that I needed to decide, once and for all, about Kevin.
Were we done? For good? Was I just hanging on to broken hopes and crushed dreams?
I wasn't sure. And I wasn't sure how to be sure.
Lord, I was beginning to suspect I needed motherly advice.
My confusion was that bad.
"Nina?"
"It's nothing."
"Sounds like something to me."
"Too much time at the range. Your hearing's going."
He grunted. "Stubborn."
Digging Up Trouble Page 14
