Should I do it tonight? Jeff nodded to himself, resolved.
He’d take Anna to Sawyer’s. They’d sit at a quiet table in a corner with a candle flickering between them and lighting up her creamy skin. They’d drink a glass of wine, and he’d reach over and smooth her hair, a gesture that always made her close her eyes. Then he’d tell her about his project and explain that it wasn’t about him. It was about them. And the community they loved. And the raise he’d get so they could marry.
Yes. That was the honest way to go.
On Madison, a block from the ferry terminal, was Say Cheese. Jeff often came here for pizza so he could share a bite with Earnest. It was Earnest’s favorite place on earth because it had a permanent Parmesan reek. He would sell his soul into slavery for any kind of cheese—the more fat in it the better, but Parmesan was his favorite. How he knew what it tasted like was a mystery, because he gulped it down—no chewing, one swallow, and that was it.
Say Cheese was located in a small white bungalow, built in 1915, according to a framed sign beside the door. On the front porch was a cougar-sized sculpture of a housecat, next to three tables, where Earnest liked to put on his starving desperado act. He planted himself at a customer’s feet, gazed up at a pizza bite about to be taken, and conveyed with anguished eyes his one small step from malnutrition. It worked every time.
Inside, Jeff joined the lunch crowd waiting at the counter for pizza slices to go. On this warm day the darkened room and overhead fan did little to cool the oven’s heat. A vague smell of sweat joined the cheese, salami, and garlic.
“Hey, Tony,” Jeff said to the owner, who had a buzz cut and wore a gold stud in one ear. “You have a pesto chicken slice?”
“Sure.” Tony took Jeff’s five-dollar bill and started counting out change from an ancient cash register. “How’s it going up at Anna’s shop?”
“What do you mean?”
“The fire department was there this morning.”
Fire department?! Jeff froze. A jolt of fight-or-flight coursed through him. His heart pounded.
“I thought you’d come back from Seattle to help,” Tony said.
“I didn’t know. Is anybody hurt?”
Tony shrugged. “I couldn’t leave here to find out.”
A bead of sweat trickled down Jeff ’s spine. He had to get over there. “Forget the pizza.” With long, hurried strides, he headed toward the front door.
“Wait. Go through there.” Tony pointed to a ten-foot hallway leading to a screen door in the back. “From the parking lot, there’s a shortcut to Rainier.”
Jeff turned and rushed down the hall.
“Your money!” Tony shouted.
“Later.” Money was the last thing on Jeff’s mind if the person and dog he loved most in the world could be hurt.
As the screen door slammed behind him, bright sun, smoke, and dust from the unpaved lot stung his eyes. He blinked and wiped them with the back of his hand. Behind a row of parked cars, he saw a narrow path through menacing eight-foot-tall blackberry bushes. So what do a few thorn scratches matter? He tucked his briefcase under his arm and ran.
CHAPTER 5
Anna hurried down the hall to Plant Parenthood, her heart an anxious fist inside her chest. The house reeked of smoke. When she stepped into what had been her magic kingdom, her breath caught in her throat. The white walls were a dingy gray, and footprints of ash covered the oak floor. Those things could be fixed, but not her beautiful plants, which had collapsed in the fire’s heat. Some resembled wilted lettuce. Others looked like the devil himself had sprayed an herbicide on their stems and leaves.
Anna rushed to Edgar, her loyal old friend. Though green floral tape still held his stem to a supporting stake, his leaves flopped down like dark flags of a vanquished country. Constance had fallen off her pedestal, and her pot had broken when she’d hit the floor. Her once-graceful fronds had withered. If she had lungs, she’d be fighting for breath.
Anna’s scheffleras and Ficus benjaminas had drooped. Her carnivorous plants seemed to have melted—including Fang, the Venus flytrap that Anna’s youngest customer, Tommy, visited after school. Smoke and heat had also ruined all of Anna’s flowers, except those behind her refrigerator’s now-gray glass door. Though many of her animal and angel sculptures could be cleaned, some had toppled over and broken when firemen had dragged the tables away from the walls.
Anna looked around and sighed. Everything in Plant Parenthood seemed to have turned a shade of gray—charcoal, battleship, slate, gunmetal, carbon, iron. Part of her wanted to weep into her hands, but the other more determined part—which Grammy had instilled in her—pointed out that tears now would be useless. Anna would find a way to keep going. She would not let fire or shock at Jeff defeat her.
“Anna! I didn’t know you were back.” Joy plowed through the mess of dying plants and hugged her.
“I wanted to see if I still had a shop,” Anna said.
“You do, but I don’t. The wall between the kitchen and me is pretty much gone, along with everything else. It’s a nightmare.” Tears crept down the mascara trails already on Joy’s cheeks. “The audacity of those damned flames. How could they do such a thing?”
Anna rested a hand on Joy’s shoulder. “We’ve got to clean up and keep going. We can work together.”
“I can’t. The heat even killed my computer. At least my printed chapters of Wild Savage Love are at home.”
“What about Lauren? Is she okay?”
“Her sofa and books are ruined, but her equipment’s fine. She fared better than I did.” Joy glanced down at Earnest’s lily-pad bed, now a cheerless charcoal gray. “How’s our guy?”
“The vet’s checking him out. He’s hurt, but nobody knows yet how badly.”
Joy shook her head with obvious concern. “He has to be all right.”
Anna blinked back tears. She would not cry. “What’s the kitchen like?”
Once Joy led her across the hall, Anna wished she hadn’t asked.The main counter and the wall behind it were rubble, so Anna could look directly into what had been Joy’s shop. The cabinets, maple table, and three mismatched chairs were burned beyond recognition. Smoke grayed the stove, refrigerator, and porcelain sink. The firemen had nailed plywood over what had been the back door.
Lauren was gathering up broken dishes and glasses. She put her arm around Anna, but that was not enough to cushion her dismay. “Is Earnest all right?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Hey, Anna.” Ted Carcionni, the fire marshal, left the ashes he was combing through and stood up to greet her.
He was Gamble’s Rotary Club president and Citizen of 2013. Anna had donated plants to his annual auction and tossed Hershey’s Kisses from his red 1957 Chevy in the last July Fourth parade.
“It doesn’t look like much is left here,” she said.
“Could have been a lot worse. We’ll salvage everything we can.” Against his grimy face, Ted’s teeth looked as white as a fastidious elephant’s tusks. “You were lucky. In an old house like this, fire can travel straight up to the attic through the walls. We had to rip out one wall upstairs and make sure that hadn’t happened.”
Anna pictured another mess, of torn-up laths and plaster. More to clean up.
“We found a time capsule someone sealed up there between the walls in a Mason jar. I put it on the front porch,” Ted said.
“Thanks,” Anna said.
He pointed at what had been the counter, where the toaster oven and Mr. Coffee had resided. “The fire probably started there. Did any of you ladies see it happen?”
“None of us knew about it till my dog warned us,” Anna said.
“Any lights flickering around here lately?”
“All the time,” Lauren said.
“What about overloaded circuits?”
“We had appliances and computers in our shops,” Joy said.
“Any appliances going in the kitchen when the fire started?”
“Th
e refrigerator,” Lauren said. “And our Mr. Coffee. I made a pot this morning.”
“Is this its base and warming plate?” Ted stooped down and picked up a clump of barely recognizable plastic.
“That’s it,” Joy said. “It was old, but it worked.”
“Our investigators will look it over. They’ll be here to figure out what caused the fire.”
What if it was our Mr. Coffee? Anna wondered with a shiver.
“What happens once you know why the fire started?” Lauren asked.
“We send our report to your landlady’s insurance company. After their own investigators come here, the cleanup crew takes over.”
“Do we have to move out?” Anna asked.
“That’s not for me to say. Gamble’s building official should be here this afternoon. He’ll decide if this place needs to be condemned,” Ted said.
“But we have to keep our shops going. The kitchen’s the only part that’s really wrecked,” Anna argued.
“You’ve got renter’s insurance, don’t you,” he said, implying it was an established fact.
Anna, Joy, and Lauren looked at each other.
“No,” Anna said, glum as rain. They’d canceled their insurance in order to save money for the house.
“Renter’s insurance would have replaced everything you’ve lost. It would have paid for you to set up somewhere else.” Ted gazed at the floor. He might have felt too sorry for the women to look directly at them. “That’s too bad. A damned shame.”
While waiting for the insurance company’s cleanup crew, Anna, Lauren, and Joy got on their hands and knees and mopped the entry with smoky towels so no one would slip in the puddles. Lauren’s boa feathers, which had been white and fluffy that morning, now looked like they’d been plucked from an exhausted turkey vulture. Anna’s denim skirt was drenched and streaked with grime.
“If our Mr. Coffee started the fire, you think Mrs. Scroogemore could sue us for negligence?” she asked.
“It was an accident. No way could she claim we set out to burn down the house,” Joy said.
“But we knew he wasn’t working well. We could be liable. I’m worried. Mrs. Scroogemore could come after us with lawyers,” Anna said.
Lauren wiped ashes off a baseboard. “It’s weird she hasn’t shown up. Anybody call her?”
“I did. She didn’t sound upset to hear the house was burning,” Joy said.
“I know why.” Anna sat back on her heels, blew her bangs off her sweaty forehead, and broke Kimberly’s unspeakably horrible news to Lauren and Joy. “If the house burned down, Mrs. Scroogemore wouldn’t have to pay for the demolition. She’d be thrilled.”
Joy and Lauren stared at Anna, speechless. It might have been the first time since birth that Joy had not had an opinion.
“It’s the truth,” Anna said.
Finally, Joy asked, “She’d tear down this house?”
“More tenants mean more money. That’s all she cares about,” Anna said.
“How do you know about this?” Lauren asked.
“I just heard it from Jeff ’s assistant. He’s the damned architect.” The way Anna said “architect,” the word smoldered with disdain. “His assistant said he was filing for permits at city hall today, and his new building would replace ‘some old Victorian house.’”
“Maybe it’s not ours,” Lauren said.
“What other house could it be? We’re the only one with a big enough yard,” Anna said.
“That odious toad! I want to smack him,” Joy snarled.
“Mrs. Scroogemore is as much to blame.” Lauren’s boa feathers looked even darker than before. “I can’t believe Jeff would do that, Anna.”
“Men betray you all the time. Ask my ex-husband, the Twit,” Joy said.
“Jeff’s not that type. He’s a good man,” Lauren said.
“As of now he’s a vile slug,” Joy said.
“Anna, what are you going to do?” Lauren asked.
“I don’t know.” Anna wrung water from a towel into a blue plastic bucket. “I’m too shocked to think straight.”
“I’m thinking fine. You should get rid of him,” Joy said.
“That would be a shame. They’re great together,” Lauren told Joy.
“Maybe not anymore.” Anna took a deep, sad breath and closed her eyes for an extra-long blink. “I’ve never misread anybody so badly in my life. I trusted him. I can’t believe he wouldn’t have told me. He’s always honest.”
“Was always honest,” Joy corrected.
Anna rubbed her towel over the floor. “I don’t think I can ever trust a man again.”
As she wrung out her towel, she glanced out the front door, which was open to let in fresh air. Jeff was running down the sidewalk toward her, his briefcase clutched against his heart.
CHAPTER 6
Panting for breath, Jeff ran up to the house, and Anna stepped onto the porch. Ash grayed her clothes. Her face was grimy, and her hair, an unruly mess. But she was there! In one piece! Unhurt!
“You’re all right!” he shouted. As he hurried down the sidewalk, relief washed over him. He thought Anna had come out to meet him, as glad to see him as he was to see her.
“I’m all right, but Earnest isn’t. He’s at Dr. Nilsen’s clinic,” Anna said.
Jeff stopped. His stomach lurched. “What happened?”
“He inhaled smoke.”
“Dr. Nilsen doesn’t think he’ll die, does he?”
“He doesn’t know.”
The news sent Jeff reeling.
He set his foot on the bottom step, intending to climb up to the porch, put his arms around Anna, and hug her like he’d never let her go. They could comfort each other. They could be strong for Earnest together.
“Don’t. Come. Up. Here.”
Jeff put his foot back on the sidewalk and stared at her.
Anna’s voice was a dark, bruising purple. Red splotched her pale cheeks. The animation that was always in her face seemed to have dried up and blown away, so that her expression was frozen. Her jaw looked like it might splinter if she took a step toward him.
“Anna, what’s the matter?” She’s got to be worried sick about Earnest. So am I.
“Are you filing for a permit to tear down this house?”
Jeff tried to swallow, but his throat stiffened. “Where’d you hear that?”
“From Kimberly. Is it true?”
“Yes, but let me explain. . . .”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. They’re too much for me right now.”
“Just a minute . . .” Jeff said.
“You know I love this house. How could you?” The little tufts he loved to smooth in Anna’s hair seemed to bristle.
“I meant only the best for you. For us,” Jeff defended.
“How could you possibly think it would be best for us?” Anna asked.
“Because . . .”
“It’s horrible.”
“Just listen . . .”
“I don’t want to talk with you today.”
Anna would hardly look at him. She acted as if resting her gaze on him for longer than ten seconds would scorch her eyeballs.
On the way back to Seattle, Jeff stared out the ferry window. Puget Sound looked smooth as glass. The cloudless sky was the celestial blue that painters use for angels’ robes. The sunny afternoon invited him to ignore all troubles.
But after seeing Anna, in Jeff ’s mind a storm of worry brewed, and gales lashed his thoughts. Earnest might be fighting for his life, and that was horrible enough. But Anna? Snippets of her last few statements hit him like needles of sleet.
“I can’t trust you.”
“I don’t understand how you could have so little regard for my feelings.”
“I don’t think I can live with you right now. One of us has to move out of the condo.”
She’d spoken the words, but the Anna he loved didn’t seem to be the speaker. She’d turned off the faucet of warmth that always flowed from her
. He wanted his Anna back, not the frozen woman who’d met him on the porch. He wanted her to let him respond, but she wouldn’t listen.
Stunned, Jeff leaned his head against the window, so his breath fogged the glass. Was he at fault? Had he been insensitive? Truly, he didn’t think so. He’d meant well. His intentions had been sincere.
Tonight he’d intended to unroll his architectural plans and show her where she, Lauren, and Joy could set up new shops in a modern building with decent bathrooms, central heating, earthquake proofing, and stairs you didn’t have to take your life into your hands to climb. Jeff had wanted Anna to be pleased. He’d never dreamed that his goodwill could have gone so wrong.
Especially when Anna was always loving—sometimes to a fault. Once she gave every penny in her purse to a homeless woman in Seattle, a kind gesture, but what if she’d had an emergency—Jeff shuddered to think—or if she’d lost her ferry pass and couldn’t get home?
Countless times she’d put his needs before hers like that. The summer before they’d gotten Earnest, they’d taken a six-mile hike in Southern California. Toward the end, they’d gotten lost and were nearly out of water. The trail seemed to twist and turn forever, and the sun beat down and burned right through their cotton shirts.
Jeff chided himself for not being prepared. His sweaty shirt stuck to his body, and he was getting a headache. From his daypack he pulled his and Anna’s plastic bottle and its two remaining inches of water. “Here.” He handed it to her.
“I’m not thirsty,” she said.
“You’ve got to be. It must be a hundred degrees.”
“No, really. I’m fine.”
“Come on. I don’t want you having a sunstroke on me.”
“I don’t need water. Honest. You drink it.”
At first he refused. He wasn’t about to hog up what little water they had. But as they continued to wander and she kept saying “no” every time he offered her the bottle, he began to feel like he might pass out—and he broke down and took a couple of slugs. She acted like she was some kind of drought-resistant camel till the trail finally looped around and they saw their car in the parking lot. Anna rushed to a hydrant outside the women’s restroom and turned on the water full blast. As she gulped it from her cupped hands, it dribbled down her chin.
Earnest Page 4
