A Toy for Christmas

by Mary Jane Forbes

  “Yes, it’s been a long time…graduation wasn’t it?” Dottie said.

  Charley on the other hand was suddenly tongue tied, not that anyone noticed. Well, maybe Tavis did because he couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful brunette, red highlights sparking. She was not the girl he met at graduation. The girl standing in the back of the pack a few years ago had become a woman with soft brown eyes, no, make that warm brown eyes.

  Charley, with a small but quick intake of air, turned away, walked to the French doors leading to the terrace. How silly could she be? The only time a man, a boy, took her breath away was in seventh grade when Eddie Tucker kissed her behind the gymnasium the last week of school. She thought about him over the summer, looked for him when school started, but the Tuckers had moved away and that was that. Charley turned back to Frank’s guest. Their eyes locked for five seconds until he smiled. He’s toying with me, she thought. His scruffy beard was identical to her brothers except Frank’s was neat. Same for his sparse mustache. A small lock of coal black hair teased his forehead. Breaking the eye contact, Charley marched off to the kitchen to help Hildy bring more dishes of food out.

  Tavis followed her.

  “Can I help? Smells delicious…Jambalaya?”

  “Quite a nose you have there, Mr., Mr.—”

  “Call me Tavis. Spent some time in New Orleans. Great Jambalaya. Here, let me help you with that tureen, Miss…”

  Hildy chuckled. “Long time since anyone called me Miss. If you’d put that serving bowl on the buffet…right through that door. And thanks,” Hildy said with a broad smile.

  Charley watched the byplay, sucked in more air, picked up a teak salad bowl filled with colorful varieties of lettuce and followed Tavis. Setting the bowl down, she turned to Tavis, opened her mouth, but he spoke first.

  “I need a place to stay, a rental. I hear you’re a realtor. Any chance you could help me? Maybe show me around the area. Tomorrow? I’d be—”

  Another sigh.

  “I think that can be arranged. Do you have a preference? In town? Near the beach?”

  “Hmm, from the Arizona desert to the shores of Daytona Beach? Sweet. When do we start?”

  “Actually, I’m fairly open tomorrow. How about meeting me at the agency…around ten? I can show you some of the rental listings.”

  “Ten’s good. Can we make a day of it? Lunch? Dinner?”

  “Ah, ah, lunch for sure. Let’s see how the day goes. I’ll give you my card…the agency address, my cell number.”

  “It’s a date, Miss Charley Kingman.”

  “My name…on the card…Charley King.”

  “Ah, the mysterious Charley King?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I look forward to hearing it.”

  Hildy bustled in with a basket of warm French bread slathered with garlic butter. “I think we’re ready, Miss Charley. Can you let your mom and dad know that dinner is all set and ready, hot and spicy,” Hildy said with a smile for both Charley and Tavis. A little shake of her head, a slight giggle, she returned to the kitchen.

  It seemed to Charley that Tavis had charmed all the women in the house. Maybe not all the women.

  Chapter 30

  ────

  TOP UP OR DOWN? Charley looked up at the cloudless sky. Down. No, up. Papers will blow away…and my hair… “Come on, Charley. This is business. Nothing more.” Muttering, she threw her tote in the car, waved to Ricky sitting on the step of his parent’s cabin, then merged with the traffic heading north. Twenty minutes and one Dunkin coffee later, she turned into Ramirez Real Estate.

  She had an hour before Tavis was scheduled to arrive. Plenty of time to check beach rental listings, she thought striding through the agency door. Rachel was at her desk, Kitty and Hank were chatting at the coffee-service station. Nodding in Rachel’s direction, Charley turned on her laptop and entered the agency’s website. She’d seen a beach-condo rental, more than one, a few days ago.

  Time flew by as she wrote a list and made a few phone calls checking availability. She settled on two she thought would work for Tavis. The managers of the properties said they could meet to show the units anytime in the next couple of hours. Both were priced by the night, but both were also open to make a deal for the balance of the summer. However, come late September the deal was off. Owners, snowbirds with two houses, would be returning to escape the cold—Wisconsin and Massachusetts respectively. One manager said the owners did not allow a short-term rental—turning over daily, or weekends—too much wear and tear on their home.

  Charley leaned back in her chair as Tavis strolled in through the agency’s heavy glass door. Charley smiled inwardly, watching Kitty move in to be the first to help the handsome man. His bronzed skin, stubble of a beard from ear to ear under a hint of a mustache screamed Hollywood star power. Kitty stopped in her tracks catching his smile directed at Charley.

  Charley extended her hand. “Good morning, Tavis. If you’re ready to see a couple of rentals I found this morning, perfect for you I think, we’ll go take a look.”

  He crooked his elbow to walk her out but Charley simply smiled, bypassing him and out the door. This is business, Mr. Tavis Hunter. Strictly business. Let’s get that straight from the get go. She settled behind the wheel of her Mustang before he could hold her door. When he was buckled up, she drove out of the agency, hooking a right onto Dunlawton Avenue.

  “Beautiful morning, Miss King.”

  He’s testing me, being charming. “Yes, it is Mr. Hunter. I’ve picked out two condos for you to see. The managers will meet us at both, show you around. This will also give me an idea as to what you’re looking to rent. You didn’t give me a price range. But asking for something on the beach, I figured you had an idea of what that might cost.” She stole a glance but quickly looked the other way. Something about him caused a flutter in her stomach, which she quickly tamped down. Her Google search last night came up with some interesting details about the Hunters in Enterprise a short hop from Scottsdale. Oil. A refinery. His father’s father started the business over fifty years ago. She figured daddy was financing junior’s junket to Florida. Of course, she didn’t exactly know why he came home with Frank.

  Turning into a circular drive she slid into a spot reserved for visitor parking. “What do you think, Tavis?”

  “It’s tall.”

  Charley laughed. “That it is. Let’s go in.”

  The manager introduced himself to Charley and she in turn introduced her client.

  “Nice to meet you Tavis. Arizona, I believe Miss King said on the phone this morning. I think you’ll like this unit. The owners are traveling this summer…they usually rent their condo during the summer months. A woman occupied the unit but decided to buy a house. The owners were not happy. They want me to be sure a tenant will stay through mid-September. No by-the-night or by-the-weekend tenants. Avoids wear and tear, you know,” Mr. Clark said, with a toothy smile.

  He took them up the elevator to the fourth floor, chatting all the while. “There’s a small fitness room off the main floor, and the living room and bedroom above have a balcony overlooking a pool and then, of course, out to the ocean. Comes with a private path to the beach.”

  Getting off the elevator, Mr. Clark led them down a wide hallway painted pale salmon to number 404. Unlocking the door, he stepped aside so Charley and Tavis could enter.

  “Wow, Charley, look at that view? How would you like to wake up to that in the morning?”

  Charley stood back, “It would be nice.”

  Tavis pulled back the sliding glass door and stepped out to the balcony. A pelican rode the breeze, circled, then dove into the water. Surfacing, he gained altitude and flew on out to sea. Turning back to Charley, Tavis lifted his eyebrows and smiled.

  Mr. Clark spent the better part of ten minutes showing them the second floor, two bedrooms separated by a bathroom. Riding down the elevator to check out the other amenities, he took them on a tour of the fitness center
, the outdoor pool, and a stroll down the path to the beach. The Atlantic sparkled in the morning sun, the surf rolling lazily in over the white sand and then quietly receding.

  “Yes sir, Mr. Clark. This is paradise. How much does paradise cost from now until, what did you say, mid-September?” Tavis asked.

  “The owners are anxious to rent the place, you know, be able to enjoy their travels without worrying, and to help defray the cost of their trip. Usually, the Blue Tide is booked solid. 404 probably will be snatched up before the weekend.”

  “The price, Mr. Clark?”

  “Four thousand, four weeks. A bargain because we’re already into the season.”

  “Ahh, ten thousand, July to mid-September?”

  “Yes, and two weeks deposit. Refundable, of course, in case there was any damage, but—”

  “Ah, yes, of course a deposit. Well, Miss King has several other rentals for me to look at. I’m sure she’ll be back to you before the end of the day. Charley, I think that does it for number 404. Bye, Mr. Clark. Thanks for the tour.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Clark. As Tavis said, I’ll call you later today,” Charley said.

  Exiting the building, eyes straight ahead, their feet matched stride for stride to the car.

  Charley, car key poised in the air, turned sharply to Tavis. No smile on her lips. “I take it you didn’t like the Blue Tide?”

  “Like? What was there not to like? Such a bargain. Ten grand to mid-September. You read me wrong, Miss King. We never talked price so you get a pass. Of course, we don’t know each other. But there are a few tidbits of information you might have surmised. Let’s see. I came to Florida with your brother. No clue there. We’re friends, frat brothers. Friends visit friends. But I didn’t come for a visit. I came to work with your brother, work hard to make a success of a startup company in a market that is getting very competitive. How, in the name of God’s little children, did you think I would squander ten grand on a place where the only thing I would do is lay my head down for a few hours before going back to work?”

  Charley glared at him. Pushing a button she lowered the top of her convertible. Let my hair fly. I don’t care. Turning back to Tavis, hands on her hips, she spewed out some choice words to her client. “Yesterday I asked where you wanted to rent AFTER you asked me to help you find a place. You answered ‘the beach would be nice’…so, being I was talking to a PhD-type person, I naturally assumed he had a ballpark idea that it would be expensive. SO ALL YOU WANT IS A PLACE TO LAY YOUR HEAD?”

  “THAT’S RIGHT, MISS KING. PREFERABLY LESS THEN TEN GRAND FOR A FEW WEEKS.”

  Charley reached to the floor of the back seat retrieving her cell. Walking away from Tavis, she punched a number.

  “Charley King, as I live and breathe, I conjured you up to thank you again for this marvelous house,” Dahlia Springer said, a lilt to her husky voice.

  “Hi, Dahlia, I was hoping you had moved in. How did the sale of your house up north go?”

  “No problem. And you, dear, how goes the real estate business?”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I have a friend…no, my brother has an old friend, college days, who’s joining his company…you know the drones?”

  “Oh, my, yes. That darling Mercury I believe you called it.”

  “Well, this friend, Tavis Hunter, is looking to rent a room for a few months—”

  “Are you going to ask me if he can stay here with me and Blaise, because if you are I’m not surprised. You and I are on the same wavelength. We just channeled each other, Charley. Blaise and I are leaving tomorrow for a very exclusive psychic group get-together. We can’t wait. Death Valley, Nevada. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

  “It certainly does, Death Valley—very exciting.”

  “So your Tavis person was destined to stay in our house…house sit. How soon can you bring him by today?”

  “We could be there in an hour. Does that work for you?”

  “Honey, everything works for us where you’re concerned. Toodle-oo.”

  Charley pocketed her phone, a grin creeping ear to ear channeling her friend Liz Stitchway who often used the same word to say goodbye. She raised her head, straightened her spine, and spun around to find Tavis breathing down her neck.

  He pulled her to him, kissed her mouth bowed in surprise. Letting go, he stepped back. “Now, that was a heck of a good fight Miss King. Always nice to have that out of the way. So, tell me what you are conspiring to do with me?”

  Raising an eyebrow, struggling to breathe, she opened her car door. “Mr. Hunter, you have a place to lay your head starting tonight. The house is a bit spooky, the owners amusing, so I’m sure you will get along splendidly. It happens that they are going to a conference in Death Valley tomorrow. They believe they called you up from their crystal ball. So, being I’m giving you a tour of the area, we have time to grab a bite to eat at one of my favorite places, the North Turn. It’s less than a mile from here. It’s a beach front restaurant where NASCAR was born. The first race was held on the beach in front of the restaurant. Now, start your engine and get in the car please, because we have a date with Dahlia and Blaise Springer. You’re their new roomie.”

  The blue Mustang charged out of the Blue Tide’s circular drive. With her dark auburn hair flying in the wind, and a smirk on her face, Charley pressed down on the gas pedal.

  Chapter 31

  ────

  Bentley

  AS DELIGHTFUL AS IT was to have a bite of lunch, fish burgers, while gazing at the ocean, Charley told Tavis to eat up. They had a meeting with the Springers. That’s all she would tell him. Playing the game she was obviously enjoying, he finished off his sandwich and beer chuckling and answered that he was ready to go.

  Within the hour Charley turned her sporty ride into the driveway of the stately manor and parked.

  “What do we have here?” Tavis said, one leg out of the car as he stood hanging onto the door.

  “Your temporary home. A place to lay your head unless a ghost knocks on your door. Come on. The Springers are eager to meet you. You and the Springers…let’s say destiny stepped in. You don’t know it, but you’ll also be a house sitter for a few days.”

  “Miss King, this is lovely. Is the ghost friendly?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had the pleasure of bumping into her.”

  “Her? How do you know? Could be a he.”

  “Hello, my dear Charley,” Dahlia shouted, waving as she did a quick trot along the path from front door to the driveway. “My, my, are you going to be my house sitter, young man?”

  “That seems to be what Miss King has planned. Tavis Hunter at your service,” he said extending his hand.

  “Delightful. Call me Dahlia, and my husband Blaise will meet you inside. He’s reading tea leaves.”

  “Tea leaves, Dahlia?” Tavis said, tucking her arm around his.

  “It’s one of our hobbies. Reading. We leave town in the morning and were concerned about the house until Blaise did the tea-leaf thing. He saw you were coming, well, not you exactly, but someone was coming to take care of our prized possession that Charley found for us.”

  Charley giggled as she grabbed her tote from the back seat. Tavis, Dahlia, and Blaise were a match made in heaven.

  Blaise met Tavis in the foyer. They shook hands and then Blaise literally pulled Tavis into the front sitting room and sat him down at the round table centered in the room. A crystal ball was on the table along with four teacups. He carefully explained to Tavis the formation of the leaves that told him to expect a visitor.

  Dahlia interceded. “Blaise, darling, show Mr. Hunter—”

  “Tavis, please. I insist.”

  Dahlia patted his arm and turned to her husband. “Blaise, now that Tavis is here, maybe you should introduce him to Bentley. I’m sure they’ll get along. You do like dogs don’t you, Tavis?”

  Charley couldn’t believe how Tavis had the Springers eating out of his hand. Or, was it the other way ar
ound.

  Cocking his head, brows raised, Tavis asked, “Big dog, or little dog?”

  “Oh, big dog,” Dahlia said, loving the impromptu game.

  “Friendly?” Tavis asked, itching the stubble on his chin.

  “Friendly,” Blaise said. “Usually friendly.”

  “Blaise, for heaven’s sake, go get Bentley. Put him on his leash. We don’t want him to attack Tavis…topple him over. You know how exuberant he gets meeting a new playmate.”

  “Dahlia, maybe it would be better if—” Charley started to say but was interrupted with the thunder of hooves as Bentley, a Harlequin Great Dane, white with patches of black, galloped into the room.

  Dahlia stuffed a large raw-hide chewy bone into Tavis’s hand then raised his hand in the air like a prize fighter winning the match.

  Bentley slid to a halt in front of Tavis, put his rear end on the floor, twitching as he waited to receive his treat.

  “Wonderful. Isn’t that wonderful, Blaise? Instant companions. Now, please show Tavis around. Take Bentley with you so he knows that Tavis has the run of the house, too. Cup of tea, Charley?”

  The boys, Blaise, Bentley, and Tavis left the room as Dahlia poured the tea. The tea party was quickly interrupted as the boys cut short the tour.

  “Dahlia, Tavis needs a truck. He has a rental car, just flew in from Arizona yesterday, and wants to turn it in for a truck. He’s from the West, the desert, and men there drive trucks.”

  “Oh yes, Blaise. By all means give him the truck. Keys are in the fishbowl in the kitchen.”

  Catching Charley’s raised brows, she added, “Oh my dear, only the keys are in the bowl. No fish. Blaise the truck is a bit dusty, a collector’s dream for sure, but I’m not sure it’s drivable.”