by Melinda Metz
Ruby unlocked the door and waved Briony inside. “Just dump it on the kitchen table. Kitchen’s to your left.”
Briony again found herself following Ruby’s instructions. Somehow when she wasn’t paying attention her breathing had slowed down a little.
“Sit, sit,” Ruby told her after Briony put down the groceries.
Briony sat. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Helping carry stuff?” Ruby answered as she put down the material and the other bag of groceries. She grabbed a dish towel and ran water over it, then wrung it out.
“For—” Briony waved her hand at herself.
“That’s nothing to apologize for.” Ruby handed her the damp dish towel. “Put it on the back of your neck. Jamie mentioned you’d had a panic attack recently. I’m assuming that’s what’s happening. Am I right?”
Briony nodded. “I . . . yes.” The family doctor had checked Briony out after she passed out going down the aisle. The doctor was at the wedding, so she was able to do it right away. She said there wasn’t anything physically wrong with Briony and had explained that a panic attack could explain all the symptoms Briony had experienced in the church.
“Try the cloth. David used to get panic attacks. He said this helped.”
“David?” She’d only spent a few minutes with Jamie’s husband, but it was hard to picture him collapsing with his heart trying to break free from his chest, all because of anxiety.
“Cloth,” Ruby urged. Briony pressed the dish towel against the back of her neck. The little strip of coolness did help. She closed her eyes and focused on it.
“Thanks,” Briony said without opening her eyes. Her breathing was almost back to normal. “Thanks,” she repeated. “I should be able to go in a minute.”
“Nuh-uh. You owe me. I have coffee with Jamie almost every day and I’m already missing her. You have to at least have something to drink and visit a little. I’m thinking lemonade. Lemonade in a tall glass is perfect for a July night.”
Briony opened her eyes. Ruby was smiling at her and it was impossible not to smile back. “I can drink lemonade.”
“Good.” Ruby opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher. She took two frosted glasses from the freezer.
“David had panic attacks?” Briony asked. She felt like she should say something, and that was the first thing she thought of.
“Just for a stretch, when he and Jamie were first getting together,” Ruby said. “It’s like a part of him didn’t ever want to fall in love again after Clarissa. Hence the panic attacks when he started to feel something for Jamie.”
“Clarissa?”
“David’s first wife. I just assumed Jamie had told you about her when she talked about David. And I know she had to have talked about David. Talking about David is one of her favorite things.” Ruby hummed a little of the Sound of Music tune as she set the lemonade on the table. “Jamie actually reminds me of Maria a little. Don’t tell her. No, go ahead. She’d probably love it. She just dives into things in a joyful Maria-the-hills-are-alive kind of way.”
“We haven’t been in touch much since we were kids. Just Christmas cards, Facebook posts,” Briony admitted. “And she and David had to leave almost as soon as I got here. It was a last-minute plan.” Briony wondered how much Jamie had told Ruby. She’d told her about the panic attack. Had she told her Briony had left her fiancé standing at the altar? She felt her face flush, hating the thought of Ruby knowing what a bad person she was. She took the cloth from the back of her neck and ran it over her cheeks.
“Want me to rewet it for you?” Ruby asked.
Briony shook her head. “It helped, though. I really am feeling much better.” As much better as she could expect to feel. She’d managed to send back the ring at least. But she owed Caleb so much more. Thinking about him sent her heart rate back up. She had to get her brain somewhere else, fast. “MacGyver got out somehow,” she blurted. “He’s back. I don’t know how he got in. Or out. But at least he’s home.”
“MacGyver. We’re all lucky that cat hasn’t learned how to use duct tape,” Ruby said.
“What?”
“Never mind. I’m not surprised he got out. MacGyver is always getting out of places. And into other places.” Ruby leaned closer, dark eyes full of concern. “Is that what started the attack? Freaking out about Mac?”
“No. I was upset. Really upset. But nothing like how you found me. That was . . . I just sent my . . . fiancé, my ex-fiancé . . . his ring. . . .” And her breath was starting to come in pants again. She tried to take a sip of the lemonade but couldn’t.
“Wonder where Mr. MacGyver got to this time. Jamie probably didn’t get to tell you about all the adventures that kitty’s had. He created total pandemonium in the court when he and Jamie first moved it, stealing stuff from everyone.”
Getting back to the subject of MacGyver helped. Which was probably why Ruby had brought him back up. “He was at one of the bungalows in The Gardens. That retirement community near here,” Briony said. Ruby nodded. “I got a call from the man who runs the place. But when I got over there, Mac was already gone. They said he’d climbed up the chimney. Jamie said he could climb up a chimney, but that seems impossible.”
“Impossible is not a word that applies to that cat,” Ruby told her. “I’m curious. Was the owner of the place cute?”
“Cute?” Briony repeated.
“Yeah. The guy who called you about Mac. Was he cute?”
“Yes,” Briony answered, without hesitation. Those almost-black eyes. The cleft in his chin. The longish dark brown hair. Great shoulders. Nose that looked like it might have been broken once. When she’d first looked at him, she’d actually taken a step back. It’s like he’d thrown a pheromone bomb at her.
Ruby laughed. “Mac’s a matchmaker. Did you know he got Jamie and David together? You’d better watch out. He’s probably planning . . .” Her words faded away; then she reached out and put her hand on Briony’s wrist. “You just went pale. That was incredibly insensitive of me. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay,” Briony told her. “So, I guess Jamie told you about where and when I had the first panic attack.”
Ruby nodded. “Because she was worried about you. She wanted me to check in on you. Sorry again about making that joke about Mac playing matchmaker. I was thinking I was just making some nice, safe kitty chitchat, then bam!” She smacked her hands together.
“It’s really okay. I’ll have to remember to tell Mac that matchmaking for me is pointless. I already had the absolutely perfect guy. And I left him at the altar.” At least she seemed to have completely recovered from the panic attack. She was talking about Caleb without palpitations.
“Have you considered that your panic attack didn’t have to do with him?” Ruby asked slowly. “Maybe it was just wedding stress. Planning a wedding is intense.”
“I had a planner. And my parents. And Caleb. I hardly had to do anything,” Briony answered. “And it was . . .it was seeing Caleb there. Waiting for me. That’s what started it. And even now, thinking about him, all I feel is bad. For what I did to him. But I don’t feel like I want him back. I could barely even write him a note without having a meltdown. Actually, I guess a meltdown is exactly what I did have.” She spoke faster and faster, saying things to this stranger she hadn’t said to anyone. “I can’t explain it. Like I said, he’s perfect. Everybody thinks so. He’s smart; he’s handsome; he’s considerate; he has a good job; my parents like him; my friends like him. Who has a panic attack when they’re about to marry someone perfect? What you told me about David’s panic attacks made sense. But mine? No. Caleb’s family is perfect, too. They were so great, so welcoming. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something has to be wrong with me.”
“I don’t think anything’s wrong with you,” Ruby told her.
“No, there is,” Briony insisted. “Rejecting someone like Caleb? If you knew him, you’d think I was crazy. Crazy and heartless. Not that he won’t find som
eone else. Someone better.”
“When I first started college, I was a biology major,” Ruby said. “And I know that sounds random, but there is a point to it. I had this idea that I wanted to cure cancer or something like that. It was all really vague in my mind to be honest, but I don’t think I even realized that. Anyway, when I had about a year left until I graduated, I started getting these headaches. Really intense. Really often. It’s not like I was having an especially hard time with my classes, well, except for physics. Anyway, to cut to the chase, I switched my major to theater, and they went away. I ended up working in movies, first doing makeup and now doing set decoration. Biology is the perfect major for a lot of people. Just not me.”
“But changing majors isn’t like leaving someone at the altar. It didn’t hurt anyone. Or cost a ton. Or—”
“Would it have been better if you realized earlier you didn’t want to marry what’s his name—Caleb? Yes. But you didn’t. All you can do is go from here.”
Briony opened her mouth to protest. But what Ruby said made sense. It’s not like she’d been trying to hurt Caleb. Or cost her parents all that money. But that still left one big question.
What did going from here mean?
* * *
Nate stepped out into the warm July night, eyes streaming, nose and throat and lungs burning. He yanked off the surgical mask and pulled in a long, slow breath. His brain was already clicking. The carpets, drapes, and furniture of the library and TV room would need to be fumigated. Replaced if that didn’t work. He also—
Amelia joined him on the front steps of the community center and handed him a bottle of water. He drained half of it, then tried to speak but started coughing instead. “Keep drinking. I couldn’t stop coughing, either, when I first came out. And you were in there a lot longer than I was,” she said.
He finished the bottle, then tried again. “I couldn’t find anything that could be making that smell. We need to get the Scentsations people over here.”
“Already called them. I told them an enormous, lactose-intolerant giant drank a few dozen bean-and-Brussels-sprouts milk shakes in the place, then farted. A lot.” Amelia shook her head. “Not even a chuckle. I was trying to cheer you up, boss.”
“Sorry. There is nothing funny about that reek.”
“True that. The Scentsations techs aren’t going to be able to get over here until tomorrow morning. I told them it was an emergency, but no go.”
“Okay.” Nate took a few moments to organize his thoughts. “I want to get temporary replacements for the rooms set up before anyone shows up to use them tomorrow. I’m thinking the bungalow next to Gertie’s since it’s empty. And we need to get signs up. I don’t want anyone even going in that hallway.”
“On it.”
“Let’s also get the furniture and drapes hauled out to the back patio. We may as well not let them soak in any more of the stench, even though they probably can’t smell any worse. We’ll deal with the carpets later.”
“Close the patio, right?” Amelia asked.
“Definitely. Get it roped off. There’s the gazebo, and the benches in the garden will work for anyone who wants to gather outside.” He raked his hair away from his face. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do tonight.”
“You want me to get Bob in here?”
Nate shook his head. He didn’t see any reason to drag the head of maintenance away from home tonight. “I’ll have him check the rooms over in the morning. See if there’s anything I missed.”
“I’ll stop by Aldine in the morning and grab some of the books from the sale racks on the sidewalk and see what else I can get for cheap,” Amelia offered.
“You’re off,” Nate reminded her.
“So?”
“Put in for overtime.”
“Will do, Captain, my captain. And I won’t even make you give me hazard pay for the giant, giant farts.”
This time, he did laugh. Amelia had been at The Gardens for more than twenty-five years. She’d played hide-and-seek with him and Nathalie on the grounds when they were kids. He’d thought it might be hard transitioning into being her boss, but she’d made it easy. A few people had left when he’d taken over, thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not that he blamed them. He’d barely been out of high school. But most had stuck with him.
* * *
Mac stretched out on Diogee’s pillow. It smelled like the bonehead, and his own pillow was more comfortable and smelled a lot better. But it had been fun to make Diogee let him have it. All he’d had to do was stare at him. Diogee had tried to stare back. Mistake. Mac had never lost a staring contest. Diogee’d given up almost as soon as he started and lumbered away.
He considered finding another game to play with the dog, but Diogee wasn’t enough of a challenge. Mac decided to go out. This time he used the bathroom window. The latch was easy to whap open, and once it was, Mac took the tree down to the yard. He hesitated, whiskers twitching. A foul stench was keeping him from gathering as much intel from the air as he usually did. He felt the fur on his back rise. It was the odor of something dead, but more than that. The scent of death was mixed with a sweet, rotten smell, something that didn’t come from the dead thing. It was too recently dead for that.
Whatever the source, Mac knew it was nothing he couldn’t handle. But the scent was coming from the direction of the Sardine Man. He didn’t have the same skills Mac did, so Mac decided to check on him.
He set off, loping across the complex. As he got closer, he was able to find the scent trail of the Sardine Man. There was no fear in it. He wasn’t in need of a rescue. But he might need a new present. He’d barely looked at the one Mac brought him last time.
Mac made a stop at the house next to the Sardine Man’s. He could hear running water inside. The human was in the shower. Humans, would they ever learn that their tongue was designed to keep them clean?
He slipped inside using the tear he’d made in the screen. The stench wasn’t as strong in the house, but it still filled Mac’s nose with every breath as he prowled through the house, searching for something . . . But what exactly?
He spotted something fuzzy on the dresser and leapt up. He loved fuzzy things. His Mousie was very fuzzy. This thing was smaller than Mousie, but it felt a little like his toy. He gave it a whack with his paw. It flew all the way across the dresser and onto the floor. Nice.
Mac retrieved the fuzzy and brought it to the Sardine Man’s house. There was no sound of movement inside. Just the sound some humans made when they were sleeping. And some dogs, like Diogee. He decided to use the chimney entrance so he wouldn’t wake his friend. He left the fuzzy near the coffee machine. Jamie always went straight for it—after she fed him.
Satisfied, Mac started for home. He hoped Diogee had decided to reclaim his pillow. It would be fun to make him give it up again.
* * *
The next morning, Nate got to the community dining room as soon as it opened for breakfast. For the next few hours, he made a point of stopping by the tables to update the residents on the situation.
“Here’s the deal,” he said when he stopped beside Peggy and the usual group. Eliza was sitting next to Archie, and Gib’s usual chair was empty again. “The library and the TV lounge will probably be closed all day.”
“We heard. And smelled. But it did give me a blast of inspiration.” Rich cleared his throat and began to read from his notebook. “ ‘There once was a place called The Gardens/That smelled so sweet no heart would harden/Then it started to stink/Causing people to drink/And now we’re all contemplating arson.’ ” He shut the notebook. “Still needs work.”
“Good one,” Nate said. “Bob brought in a few industrial fans first thing this morning, and a tech from Scentsations, the company that we use to pump aromatic oils through the vents, is here checking for defects in the system.”
“Do you have any idea what’s causing the smell?” Eliza asked, a tiny furrow forming between her eyebrows. “I’m worr
ied that it might be some kind of toxin.”
Archie patted her hand. “Don’t worry, honeybuns. I haven’t been in either of those rooms since that stench started up.”
“Honeybuns?” Janet raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you call your granddaughter?” Nate had been wondering that himself.
“Not honeybuns, honeybun,” Eliza told her.
“Ooops. I misheard.” Janet smiled at Archie. “That’s so cute.”
“We haven’t figured out the source of the smell yet. But I’ll give everyone an update as soon as we do,” Nate told Eliza. “In the meantime, we’re going to use the empty bungalow next door to Gertie’s place as a temporary library and TV room.”
“I wonder if something like ‘making nose hair kink’ would be a better line than the one about drinking,” Rich mumbled, gnawing on his pencil.
“The situation is nothing to joke about,” Regina snapped.
“All those beautiful books.” Peggy sighed. She was in all of The Gardens’ book groups. “I don’t think it will be easy to get the smell out of them.”
“I’m working on finding a place to get them fumigated,” Nate reassured her. Well, he was about to work on it. “In the meantime, Amelia’s going to a used bookstore to get us some replacements.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Rich said to Regina. “I was commenting on the situation through my art.”
“Art. That’s being a little too generous, isn’t it?” Regina asked. “It’s like calling that, that sweat suit proper attire for a grown man.” She smoothed her honey-blond bob. Not that it needed it. Nate didn’t think he’d ever seen Regina with a hair out of place or wearing anything that wasn’t expertly tailored and tasteful.
“I like color. I like pizazz,” Rich said. He held out one leg so he could admire the green-and-teal stripe running down the leg of his yellow track pants. “I consider this the kind of outfit Picasso would design.”
