“No sirree! That tree’s gotta come down too, or you’ll have the same problem again.”
“It could wait until after the wedding, right?”
“Sure. If you want. I can get you through the week.”
Ace pulled a ribbed wide blue hose from the top of the septic tank and hauled it through the gate to load it alongside the tanker truck.
“Be back in the morning,” he said, tipping his dirty Buffalo Sabres cap.
***
The chili and warm cornbread hit the spot after a more strenuous Sunday afternoon than planned. Jim joined Gracie and Marc in front of the TV, catching the last football game, with Denver and New England playing.
The two men discussed the merits of the two quarterbacks, which was way beyond her interest level. She took the dogs out to the backyard for one last run. Earlier, she’d dragged some old folding chairs to cordon off the tank area, which had been nicely excavated by Marc. At least, Ace shouldn’t have to do a whole lot to check things out.
The air was nippy, her breath visible in the darkness. She shoved her hands into the warmth of the jacket’s pockets, making sure Haley and Max stayed well away from the smelly area.
Everything had seemed perfectly under control for the wedding only days ago. She’d felt pretty proud of herself for handling the logistics, keeping everything simple. It certainly wasn’t trouble-free as of today. Could they really be married here on Saturday? What would her yard look like? Did they need to move the ceremony somewhere else? Gracie wanted this wedding to be different from hers and Michael’s. She’d had the big church wedding. This was supposed to be intimate. The fall colors were the backdrop, rather than stained glass. The dogs would be their attendants, carrying the rings attached with ribbons to their collars. It was a straightforward and even elegant plan. A headache had blossomed behind her eyes, making her feel sick. She really needed some sleep and for others to stay out of her plans.
The dogs ran happily back to the patio, tails waving. They seemed to be settling into life together. Would it be as easy for her and Marc?
She bent and hugged both dogs, who whined anxiously to go back inside.
CHAPTER 15
Midge’s Restaurant was a cacophony of clanking dishes, sizzling bacon, and conversation. Jim sat sipping his second cup of coffee, reading the Pennysaver. It was amazing what people sold in the weekly publication. Someone was offering a 1984 Reliant that didn’t run for a mere three thousand dollars. The price seemed a little optimistic. The seller must have thought the car was a valuable classic. Someone else had buckets of hinges, nails, and what have you for sale at best offer. That actually might be worth looking into, Jim thought. You never know when you might require “what have you.”
“Hey, dreamboat, you need any more coffee, another stack of pancakes?”
Midge, the owner of the only restaurant in Deer Creek, sidled up to him with coffeepot in hand. She beamed, batting her eyelashes in jest.
“No. I’ve reached my limit on all accounts, adorable.”
“Too bad. I have so much to give,” she continued with a wicked smile.
“I give you a lot of my hard-earned money,” Jim laughed.
Midge waved a hand nonchalantly. “Rightly so. You can’t cook a lick. Everything all right with Gracie and Marc? Wedding still happening?”
Jim nodded. “All set. A little issue with the septic though. Ace has to dig up some of the backyard today.”
“I know. He told me about that last night. That’ll stress her out. Ace’ll take care it though. He knows his stuff.”
“I’m not worried. But, you’re right, she is stressed about it. Hopefully he’ll have it all back together by this afternoon.”
“Did I hear you say that Gracie has a plumbing problem?” Isabelle Browne-Baker stood at the cash register next to Jim’s place at the counter.
His heart dropped like a rock. Gracie would kill him for letting that slip.
“Yeah. A little backup issue. But, like I said, Ace is working on it today.”
“Her yard will be in ruins if they’re digging it up. It was already a mess anyway. She can’t have the wedding there. I’d better run over to the house and give her some help. I knew something like this would happen. She doesn’t have event experience.” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet.
“Uh, I wouldn’t plan on that,” Jim started. “She’s really busy.”
“Of course, she’s busy. We’re all busy. Which is why she needs my input. Her decision-making skills are dismal. The wedding’s only six days away, and it won’t come off with any flair at all, unless I do something about it.”
Isabelle, in her black leather car coat, perfect hair, and airbrush-quality makeup, was a formidable adversary. One which gave Jim chills. Let the women hash it out. He’d tried to stop Isabelle … Well, sort of.
Midge managed not to interject any comments before ringing up Isabelle’s check. As soon as she breezed out the door, the diminutive restaurant owner leaned over the counter with a smug look.
“What I would give to see that meeting.”
“What I’d give to have kept my mouth shut,” Jim groaned.
Midge straightened herself to her full five feet. She dismissed his comment with a shrug. “Isabelle would’ve found out anyway. Can’t you hear her rant the day of the wedding if there was a little dirt pile in the yard?”
Yes, he could. Unfortunately, he could.
“Any sweet rolls left?”
The least he could do was bring some sort of peace offering. Midge snatched a box from the shelf next to the large flattop and quickly filled it with gooey cinnamon rolls.
***
Ace and two of his men carefully removed the section of vinyl fencing as Gracie watched from the patio. The fence was so new and sparkling white. They’d better not stain or break it. She held her breath while the three men gingerly laid the sections near the edge of the field that abutted her yard. They pulled the posts from the ground and laid them next to the panels.
Ace drove the backhoe into the yard, the tires sinking slightly into the soft earth. Ruts. There would be ruts in her yard. Gracie nervously tugged at her sagging ponytail. The broken and clogged tiles were a real mess in the leach system. Ace was trying to clean everything out and replace the tile by Wednesday. The backhoe bit into the lawn, ripping turf, leaves, and dirt away. She looked at her watch. It was almost lunchtime, and she needed to be working at the kennel. Marc was on his way to the airport to meet his mother, sister, and brother-in-law. She’d sent two loads of laundry with him in the hopes he’d wash them at his house before returning. Now her soon-to-be mother-in-law and sister-in-law would see her home in a state of dishevelment. What would their take be on the predicament? Her phone rang, vibrating the back pocket of her jeans.
***
Theresa pulled up to the front of the Minders’ two-story colonial. She admired the corn shock tied around a wrought iron gaslight near the sidewalk. Gloria had placed several pumpkins and a pot of red mums in the center for extra oomph. It was a nice touch.
Gloria opened the door almost immediately, a look of relief on her face.
“Are you okay?” Theresa asked.
Gloria looked uncharacteristically harried.
“Not really,” Gloria answered, quickly shutting the door. “Art Walczak just left.”
“Why was he here?”
“He came to claim rights to Franny’s estate. He has some sort of promissory note, which says he’s owed thirty thousand dollars. Can you believe it? Of course, Albert’s already out and about. I had the distinct pleasure of talking with him.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish. Come in. The coffee’s on in the kitchen.”
Theresa trooped into the kitchen, sitting down in the breakfast nook. The old-fashioned kitchen, with a restored cast-iron range that had been converted from wood to gas, was a one-of-a-kind treasure. The kitchen also boasted a bay window, which overlooked their backyard. The cozy table for tw
o was tucked into the angled spot.
Theresa unbuttoned her jacket and admired the dining set, which was a spectacular tiger maple, one of Gloria’s best finds at a yard sale a few years back. She ran her hand over the beautiful wood grain, still a little envious.
Gloria set a large brown mug in front of her, along with the sugar bowl, before sitting across from Theresa.
“Is this promissory note legitimate? Why would Franny go into debt to an ex-husband?”
“Good questions. I told Art he’d have to give it to the attorney, which went over like a lead balloon. I think he expected Albert to write him a check.”
“Hmm. Maybe the note’s a fake then.”
Gloria shrugged. “It had Franny’s signature. I wish Albert hadn’t agreed to be the executor. He should have let the attorney do it. He’s the substitute.”
Theresa stirred two teaspoons of sugar into her coffee.
“I’m sure he’s feels duty bound to Franny.”
“Always. He can’t help himself.” Gloria managed a wry smile. “Along with Art, the quilt dispute, and insurance claim, he will more than earn every penny of the executor’s fee. And who knows if there are any assets?”
“What about the house?”
“Mortgaged to the hilt. The bank will take everything, unless Art wants to buy it. Her car was paid for, thankfully.”
“I had no idea. I thought the house was paid off long ago.”
“It was. She took out a big home equity loan right before their divorce for some reason. Such a mess.”
Theresa set the mug down quickly, sloshing coffee on the placemat.
“I wonder if Art is still gambling. Maybe he’s run up some debts.”
“Albert will talk to Kevin at the bank. I’m sure he’ll have the whole story.”
“What about a funeral?”
“Well, this is strange, but Franny’s last wishes were to be cremated and her ashes strewn over the gorge in Letchworth Park. No service. No calling hours. No fuss. We didn’t need to pick out that outfit either.” Gloria frowned.
“Really! So, what are you doing?”
“We’re going to the park early tomorrow morning and toss Franny over the wall.”
Theresa nearly choked, suppressing a laugh and feeling shocked all at once.
Gloria’s face softened, instantly repentant. “I’m sorry. This thing has me so upset.”
“Don’t worry. Should Bob and I come? What about Lulu or Art?”
“You can come, if you want. We’ll be at the Wolf Creek picnic area at nine. I let Art know. He should have the opportunity to be there. I think he’ll show up. Of course, her sister isn’t able to come, but once the urn is emptied, I’ll give it to her, if she wants it.”
“And Lulu?”
“I was going to stop in and see her after we did some inventorying in the house. There will have to be an auction for the household goods and car. East Koy Auctions is meeting us there this afternoon with Art. He wants to make sure his property is identified.”
“It sounds like you have it under control. I’ll see if Bob wants to go. I’ll be there in any case.”
“We’d both appreciate that.” Gloria frowned. “Didn’t Franny tell you the quilt was worth fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yes. Why?”
“It was insured for twice that.”
Theresa’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.” Gloria drummed her fingers nervously on her mug. “I guess it’s standard practice, according to the adjustor. I wonder how they determined the value to begin with. Wouldn’t Franny have had some sort of appraisal that would determine the insurance value?”
“That would be my guess.”
Theresa rose and took her mug to the sink. “I’d better run. Gracie has a crisis at the house, and apparently, Isabelle tried to help. I may have to referee. I wish those two would figure out how to get along.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious. Probably wedding jitters.”
“We’ll see.”
***
Theresa pulled away from the curb, abruptly remembering the foreign money she’d spotted in Lulu’s sewing cabinet. She wanted to ask Gloria if she’d seen it. Oh, well. She’d ask in the morning.
What a peculiar turn of events! No funeral, lots of debt, and a stolen quilt. Franny must have been working on some scheme to fix her serious money troubles.
Then there was Lulu with her own version of quirky. Why did Lulu have foreign money in her sewing cabinet? Would she steal Franny’s quilt? Nothing made a lot of sense. The two women had been best friends for years. They’d been through thick and thin. Assorted illnesses, Franny’s continuing marital problems, and Lulu’s bereavement in the last year. Neither woman had had children. They’d always been like sisters. Something didn’t feel right. Theresa couldn’t decipher what the real deal was and it was driving her crazy.
***
“Am I glad to see you!” Gracie called to her mother as Theresa opened the car door. She held her kitchen door open and felt the stinging chill of a north wind.
“What’s the emergency? You said something about the septic, which must be the case, since Ace’s truck is here.” Theresa pointed at the pickup parked next to her sedan. The dogs surrounded her, pink tongues hanging out. She scratched behind their ears and walked toward the house, the dogs bounding back inside.
“Unfortunately, it’s true. It gets worse.”
Gracie’s face felt hot, despite the wind, which blew wisps of red hair around her face.
“Tell me inside. It’s freezing out here.”
The dogs ran through the kitchen and pressed their noses against the windows of the French doors that led to the patio.
As soon as they were inside, Gracie cut loose. “My leach bed is clogged, and Ace’s backhoe broke down about a half hour ago. The stupid thing is partially stuck in the backyard. I think I need another place to have the wedding. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Marc’s in Buffalo, picking up his family, and Isabelle was here earlier, trying to take over—again.”
Theresa held up hands in a pleading gesture. “Whoa! Hold on a second. We’ve got a few too many irons in the fire for my brain.”
Gracie sighed and sunk onto a stool at the breakfast bar.
“It’s a real jam, Mom. All I wanted was a simple wedding in my backyard. What is going on? It’s only six days away.”
Theresa took off her coat, draping it over a kitchen chair. She joined Gracie at the granite counter.
“Tell me what’s happening with the backyard, first of all,” she said calmly.
Gracie offered the gory details of the dysfunctional septic system.
“To top it off, the ground under the backhoe started sinking on one side. Ace says it won’t be too bad to get out, but the lawn is a wreck. As if that wasn’t enough, a few minutes ago, something happened, and the backhoe quit. He’s on the phone right now, trying to locate a part.”
“All right. So, your backyard isn’t going to be a good place for people to be wandering around in on Saturday.”
“Right. It was supposed to be an easy fix. Dig up a little grass, repair the problem, and cover it up. What if he can’t get the part?”
“What’s Marc say?”
“I didn’t even call him. He’s focused on picking up his family. He hasn’t seen his mom and sister for a couple of years, so he wanted to be there.”
“Of course, he should be there. You should have gone with him.”
“Not with Ace here.”
“That’s true,” Theresa agreed. “Are we all getting together before the wedding? You haven’t said anything.”
“Well, we might have everyone over. I don’t see how we could now, but we really haven’t talked about it yet. There’s been a lot going on.”
“We could whip up something, I guess. It’s a little short notice now.”
Gracie sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her nerves were frayed, and she didn’t want to lose it with her mother. “I k
now. Let’s figure it out once Marc’s back. That’s the least of my worries. At the moment.”
Theresa frowned, picking at her cuticles, which to Gracie signaled disapproval.
“You said something about Isabelle?” Theresa looked up at her daughter.
“Yes. That’s the other problem. She somehow heard about my issue and flew in on her broom, offering to host the wedding at her house. There’s no way that’s happening.”
“Why not? She has the perfect spot in her back garden. The gazebo, big yard, and her flowers are gorgeous. If it rains, she has that huge enclosed patio.”
Theresa slid off the stool and joined the dogs at the French doors to survey the disaster.
“That’s the problem,” said Gracie. “It is perfect. She will throw this favor in my face until … until the Bills make the playoffs again. Izzy rescued my wedding. Saved the day like Wonder Woman. It makes me sick.” She joined the group at the doors, truly feeling ill when she saw Ace leaning against the backhoe, talking on his phone.
“Gracie! You should be grateful for options. Isabelle is only trying to help her cousin, who does have a big problem. The way I see it, even if Ace does finish the repairs in—let’s say two days—your yard will still be a mud pit for the weekend. Not a great backdrop for your pictures.”
Her mother was right. Pictures. Wedding photos. Wedding photos. She gasped. Oh no! She’d forgotten the photographer. She’d meant to call Jesaro Photography, who’d done Tom and Kelly’s wedding. Somehow it had disappeared from her radar. How could she have missed that important detail? Selfies with her phone wouldn’t cut it. She groaned, hitting a palm against her forehead.
CHAPTER 16
Marc was sandwiched between two mini-vans full of noisy teenagers, who were dragging out a never-ending stream of luggage from the back of each vehicle. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, enjoying Carrie Underwood’s latest tune on the radio. It was taking forever for his sister and brother-in-law to appear from the underground rental car garage. His mother was stretching her legs, walking around the short-term parking area when Miranda and her husband, Larry Holcomb, drove into view. They could finally get underway. It had taken over an hour for his brother-in-law’s rental vehicle transaction. That had been the most painful part of the reunion so far.
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