“A letter isn’t such a bad idea. You could enclose it with the invitation to your Christmas party and send it Federal Express or have a messenger deliver it. I’d opt for the messenger because he could deliver it today. If you choose Federal Express she won’t get it until tomorrow.”
“What’s the use, Sadie? I don’t blame her. Jesus, the guy even…a diaphragm is pretty goddamn personal. I didn’t want that kind of stuff. I didn’t ask for it either. All I wanted was her financials and a history of the property. I have that same sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I used to get when I was a kid and did something wrong. I could never put anything over on my mother, and Andi is the same way.”
“There must be a way for you to get her to listen to you. Apologies, when they’re heartfelt, are usually pretty good. Try calling her again.”
“I’ve done that. Her answering machine comes on. I know she’s there listening, but she won’t pick up. I told you, I don’t blame her.”
“Maybe you could disguise yourself and ride up on a motorcycle with…someone’s animal and pretend…you know, it will get you in the door. She’ll have to listen if you’re face-to-face.”
“Sadie, that’s probably the worst idea you ever came up with. Andi Evans is an in-your-face person. She’ll call the cops. They already gave me a warning. I don’t want my ass hauled off to jail. They print stuff like that in the papers. How’s that going to look?”
Sadie threw her hands up in the air. “Can you come up with a better idea?”
“No. I’m fresh out of ideas. I have to go home to shower and shave. Then I have to go to the office. I have a business to run. I’ll stop by on my way home from the office.” Peter kissed his grandmother goodbye, his face miserable.
Sadie eyed the urn with Hannah’s ashes on the mantel. “Obviously, Hannah, I have to take matters into my own hands. Men are so good at screwing things up, and it’s always a woman who has to get them out of their messes. I miss you, and no, I’m not going to get maudlin. I now have a mission to keep me busy.”
Sadie dusted her hands before she picked up the phone. “Marcus, bring the car around front and make sure you have my…things. Scotch Plains. The weather report said the roads are clear.” She replaced the receiver.
“They’re meant for one another. I know this in my heart. Therefore, it’s all right for me to meddle,” Sadie mumbled as she slipped into her faux fur coat. “I’m going to make this right or die trying.”
Andi had the door of the truck open when she saw Gertie picking her way over the packed-down snow. “Gertie, wait, I’ll help you. If you tell me you walked all the way from Plainfield, I’m going to kick you all the way back. You’re too old to be trundling around in this snow. What if you fall and fracture your hip? Then what? Where’s your shopping cart?”
“Donald’s watching it. I wanted to see Rosie and her pups. Can I, Andi?”
“Of course. Listen, I have some errands to run. Do you want to stay until I get back? I can drive you home after that.”
“Well, sure.”
“Rosie’s in the kitchen, and the tea’s still hot in the pot. Make yourself at home. I might be gone for maybe…three hours, depending on the roads. You’ll wait?”
“Of course.”
“Gertie, don’t answer the phone.”
“What if it’s a patient?” Gertie asked fretfully.
“If it is, you’ll hear it on the machine. Pick up and refer them to the clinic on Park Avenue. My offices are closed as of this morning. I called the few patients I have and told them.”
“All right.”
“I’ll see you by mid-afternoon.”
Ninety minutes later, Andi pulled her truck alongside Tom Finneran’s white Cadillac. “Oh, it’s wonderful, Tom! The snow makes it look like a fairyland. I love the old trees. Quick, show me around.”
“Everything is in tip-top shape. Move-in condition, Andi. The owners’ things are packed up ready for the mover. All the walls and ceilings were freshly painted a month ago. There’s new carpet everywhere, even upstairs. Three bathrooms. A full one downstairs. Nice modern kitchen, appliances are six years old. The roof is nine years old and the furnace is five years old. The plumbing is good, but you do have a septic tank because you’re in the country. Taxes are more than reasonable. I have to admit the road leading in here is a kidney crusher. You might want to think about doing something to it later on. Fill the holes with shale or something. It’s a farmhouse, and I for one love old farmhouses. A lot of work went into this house at one time. Young people today don’t appreciate the old beams and pegs they used for nails back then.”
“I love it,” Andi said enthusiastically.
“The owner put down carpeting for warmth. Underneath the carpeting you have pine floors. It was a shame to cover them up, but women today want beige carpets. The blinds stay, as do the lighting fixtures and all the appliances. You’ll be more than comfortable. Take your time and look around. I’ll wait here for you. The owner agreed to an end of January closing, so you’ll be paying rent until that time.”
“It’s just perfect, Tom. Now, show me the barn.”
“That’s what you’re really going to love. It’s warm and there’s a mountain of hay inside on the second floor or whatever they call it in barns. Good electricity, plumbing, sinks. There’s an old refrigerator, too, and it works. The stalls are still intact. You can do what you want with them. There’s a two-car garage and a shed for junk. The owner is leaving the lawn mower, leaf blower and all his gardening stuff. Any questions?”
“Not a one. Where do I sign?”
“On the dotted line. You can move in on Sunday at any time. I probably won’t see you till the closing, so good luck. Oh, Lois took care of calling the water company, PSE&G and the phone company. Everything will be hooked up first thing Monday morning. You can reimburse us at the closing for the deposits.”
Andi hugged the Realtor. She had to remember to send him a present after she moved in.
The clock on the mantel was striking five when Andi walked through the doors of the kennel. “I’m home,” she called.
Gertie was sitting at the kitchen table with three of the pups in her lap. “Rosie is keeping her eye on me. It almost makes me want to have a home of my own. Did you give them names?”
“Not yet. Did anyone call?” Andi asked nonchalantly.
“Mr. King called; his message is on the machine. He sounded…desperate.”
“And well he should. Let me tell you what that…lipstick person did, Gertie. Then you tell me what you think I should do. I hate men. I told you that before, and then I let my guard down and somehow he…what he did…was…he sneaked in. I let him kiss me and I kissed him back and told him I liked it. Do you believe that!”
Gertie listened, her eyes glued to Andi’s flushed face.
“Well?”
“I agree, it was a terrible thing to do. Andi, I’ve lived a long time. Things aren’t always the way they seem. Everything has two sides. Would it hurt you to hear him out? What harm is there in listening to him? Then, if you want to walk away, do so. Aren’t you afraid that you’re always going to wonder if there was an explanation? You said he was nice, that you liked him. He sounded like a sterling person to me.”
“Listen to him so he can lie to my face? That’s the worst kind of man, the one who looks you in the eye and lies. That’s what used car salesmen do. Sometimes lawyers and insurance men do it, too. I called the police on him this morning. He sat in my parking lot all night, Gertie.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I watched him. You know what else? I even changed the sheets on the damn bed because I thought…well, what I…oh, hell, it doesn’t matter.”
“Obviously it does matter. Your eyes are all red. You really sat up watching him sit in your parking lot! That’s ridiculous!”
“I was packing my stuff in the attic. I looked out from time to time,” Andi said defensively. “I guess he wasn�
�t who I thought he was. I swear to God, Gertie, this is it. I’m not sticking my neck out, ever again.”
“Don’t businesspeople do things like that, Andi? I’m not taking sides here, but think for a moment; if the situation was reversed, wouldn’t you want to get the best deal for your company?”
“Does that mean he and his company need to know about my love life, that I use a diaphragm? No, it does not. He had no damn right.”
“Maybe it’s the detective’s fault and not Mr. King’s. Maybe Mr. King told him to do a…whatever term they use, on you, and the man took it further than he was supposed to. That’s something to think about,” Gertie said, a desperate look on her face.
“Whose side are you on, Gertie? It sounds like you favor that war-paint king.”
“I believe in giving everyone a fair hearing.”
“Is that why you refuse to call your children and live in a ditch?”
“It’s not the same thing, and you know it.”
“There’s no greater sin in life than betrayal. I could…can forgive anything but betrayal.”
Gertie’s tone turned fretful. “Don’t say that, Andi. There’s usually a reason for everything if you care enough to find out what it is. I’ve lived a long life, my dear, and along the way I learned a few things. An open mind is a person’s greatest asset in this world.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Gertie, and my mind just shut down. I know his type; he was just playing with me in case I changed my mind about selling. I would have gone to bed with him, too. That’s the part that bothers me. Then, one minute after the closing, it would be goodbye Andi.”
“He’s not like that at all, Andi. You’re so wrong.” At Andi’s strange look she hastened to explain. “What I meant was…from everything you said, from what I’ve seen in the papers, Mr. King is a gentleman. You said so yourself. I really should be going. Someone’s pulling into your driveway. I’m going to walk, Andi. I’ve been cooped up too long in the shelter.” Gertie held up her hand. “No, no, I do not want a ride. You still have packing to do. Thanks for the tea and for letting me hold these precious bundles. When are you going to name them?”
“I was thinking of giving them all Christmas names. You know, Holly, Jingle, et cetera. Just let me get my coat; it’s too cold, and there’s ice everywhere. I refuse to allow you to walk home, wherever home may be today.”
“I’m walking and that’s final,” Gertie said, backing out the door. “Besides, I have some thinking I have to do. I do thank you for caring about this old woman. I’ll be fine. It’s a messenger, Andi, with a letter. I’ll wait just a minute longer to make sure it isn’t an emergency.”
Andi stared after her, a helpless look on her face. She knew how important it was for the seniors to feel independent. She reached for the envelope and ripped at it. “Ha!” she snorted. “It’s an invitation to Mr. Lipstick’s Christmas party.”
“Guess that makes it official. Change your mind and go. Is there a note?”
“Yep. It says he’s sorry about the report and all he had requested were the financials, none of the personal stuff. He said he meant to destroy it once he met me, but time got away from him. He also says he had more fun yesterday than he’s had in twenty years, and he thinks he’s falling in love with me. He’s very sorry. Please call.”
“So call and put the poor thing out of his misery. That certainly sounds contrite to me. Everyone makes mistakes, Andi, even you. I would find it very heartwarming to hear someone tell me they think they’re falling in love with me. Think about that, Andi. Have a nice evening.”
“Goodbye, Gertie. Be careful walking.”
“I will, my dear.”
Andi read the note and the invitation until she had them both memorized. She ran the words over and over in her mind as she finished packing up the attic. At one point, as she descended the attic steps, she put the words to music and sing-songed her way through her bedroom as she stuffed things in cartons.
Andi stopped only to feed the animals and eat a sandwich. The telephone continued to ring, the answering machine clicking on just as the person on the other end hung up. At eleven o’clock she carried the last of the boxes downstairs to the garage where she stacked them near the door. By three o’clock she had her mother’s china packed as well as all the pictures and knickknacks from the living room sealed in bubble wrap. These, too, went into the garage.
At three-thirty, she was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, the invitation to Peter King’s party in front of her and his letter propped up against the sugar bowl. Believe or not believe? Go to the party, don’t go to the party? Call him or not call him? Ignore everything and maybe things would turn out right. Like thirty-year-old women with thirty-six animals were really in demand. Was Gertie right? Was she acting like some indignant teenager?
There were no answers in the kitchen, so she might as well go to bed and try to sleep. Was this how it felt to be in love? Surely love meant more than a sick feeling in the stomach coupled with wet eyes and a pounding headache.
Andi felt as old as Gertie when she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She blubbered to herself as she brushed her teeth and changed into flannel pajamas. She was asleep the moment she pulled the down comforter up to her chin.
Even in her dream she knew she was dreaming because once before, in another lifetime, she’d slid down the hill on a plastic shower curtain with a colleague named Tyler. The same Tyler she’d had a two-year relationship with.
She fell sideways, rolling off the frozen plastic, to land in a heap near a monstrous holly bush. The wind knocked out of her, she struggled to breathe.
“You okay, Andi?”
“Sure. Bet I’m bruised from head to toe, though. How about you?”
“I’m fine. You really aren’t going with me tomorrow, are you?”
“No. I’ll miss you. Let’s stay in touch, okay?”
“People promise that all the time; they even mean it at the time they say it, but it rarely happens. I’ll be in Chicago and you’ll be in New Jersey. I want the big bucks. I could never be content living in some rural area counting my pennies and practicing veterinarian medicine for free. Right now you’re starry-eyed at taking over your family’s old practice, but that’s going to get old real quick. You’re gonna be the new kid on the block. Who’s going to come to your clinic? Yeah, sure, you can board dogs, but how much money is there in that? Not much I can tell you. Let’s go home and make some magic. We’re probably never going to see each other again. We’ll call at first and even write a few letters, and then it will be a Christmas card once a year with our name printed on it. After that it will be, Tyler who? Andi who?”
“Then why do you want to go to bed with me?”
“Because I think I love you.”
“After two years you think you love me? I want to go home and I want to go by myself. I don’t want to go to bed with you either because you remind me of someone I don’t like. He makes greasy lipstick. I changed the sheets and everything, and then he found out, probably from you, that I use a diaphragm. That was tacky, Tyler, to tell him something that personal.”
“I never told him any such thing”
“Liar, liar, your pants are on fire. Get away from me and don’t think I’m going to your stupid Christmas party either. Take this damn shower curtain with you, too.”
“All right, all right. You came with me, how are you going to get home?”
“I have two feet, I’ll walk. When you’re homeless that’s how you get around; I hope you make your three million plus. Goodbye, Peter.”
“My name isn’t Peter, it’s Tyler.”
“Same thing, birds of a feather flock together. All you’re interested in is money. You don’t care about me. The fact that you’re taking this so well is suspect in my eyes. And another thing, I wouldn’t let you see me wear my mother’s pearls even if you paid me my weight in gold. One more thing, don’t for one minute think I’m giving one of Rosie’s pups to you to gi
ve your grandmother. She’ll sneeze from all of that Lily of the Valley powder.”
Andi rolled over, her arm snaking out to reach the phone. She yanked it back under the covers immediately. Six-thirty. She’d only had two and a half hours of sleep, and most of that had been dream time. Damn.
Andi struggled to remember the dream as she showered and dressed.
The animals tended to, Andi sat at the table sipping the scalding hot coffee. She frowned as she tried to remember what it was in her dream that bothered her. It didn’t hit her until she finished the last of the coffee in the pot. Lily of the Valley. Of course. “When you’re stupid, Andi, you’re stupid.” A moment later the phone book was in her hands. She flipped to the Ks and ran her finger down the listing. She called every S. King in the book until she heard the voice she was expecting. She wasn’t sure, but she thought her heart stopped beating when she heard Gertie’s voice on the other end of the line. Sadie King, Peter King’s grandmother, was the homeless Gertie.
Blind fury riveted through her. Shaking and trembling, she had to grab hold of the kitchen counter to steady herself. A conspiracy. If the old saying a fool is born every minute was true, then she was this minute’s fool. Of all the cheap, dirty tricks! Send an old lady here to soften me up, to spy on me so I’d spill my guts. You son of a bitch!
Andi fixed another pot of coffee. Somewhere in this house there must be some cigarettes, a filthy habit she’d given up a year ago. She rummaged in the kitchen drawers until she found a crumpled pack pushed way in the back. She lit one, coughed and sputtered, but she didn’t put it out.
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