“She’s a great cook.”
“I noticed.” He also noticed that Jenni didn’t have any electrical outlets on the porch. Dorothy had had to run an extension cord for him through the dining room window. As he was looking for the nonexistent outlet, he’d spotted a heavy-duty orange extension cord coming out of the living room window that the lights in one of the trees were plugged in to. Someone had plugged the inch opening in the window with tube socks and more duct tape.
Another cord snaked its way around the side of the house, giving electricity to the ten-foot-high blow-up Snoopy vampire. A soft electrical hum filled the silence.
Six carved pumpkins were lined up on the porch. The candles were nearly burnt out and the stench of scorched pumpkin hung in the air. The candles had been so powerful that the faces had all contorted and become mushed on the pumpkins. They now resembled aged apples.
The blind, menacing-looking panda sat in the rocking chair in the shadows, occasionally being rocked by the wind. It had been freaking him out all night. The wooden skeleton was still hanging out of the upstairs window, banging against the clapboard siding. The bones actually rattled softly against each other with every breeze.
At thirty-two he had thought he was a little too old to be getting the shivers on Halloween. Then again he had never met the Wrights before.
“Tucker, put that down,” Jenni said.
He glanced around at the boy and saw him holding Coop’s drill. Thankfully it wasn’t plugged in. Corey was using a pair of needle-nose pliers on one of his caterpillar legs. The older boy, who he was guessing was supposed to be a wizard or a magician, was inspecting the four-by-four piece of lumber Coop had just put up.
He quickly took the power drill from Tucker’s sticky hands. “Whoa, you shouldn’t pick up tools. They might be plugged in and then you could hurt yourself or someone else.” The drill bit had been dangerously close to Corey’s thigh.
Now, there was his nightmare for the night.
He unplugged the circular saw he had been using and put the drill back in his toolbox. The saw went to a safe spot, between his feet on the porch, away from the curious boys, because it didn’t fit in his box. He shuddered to think what Tucker could do with a ten-inch circular saw.
“Boys, why don’t you go ahead inside and show Grandmom how much candy you collected.” Jenni took the pliers out of Corey’s hands and put them in the toolbox.
The boys went running into the house. Shouts and pounding feet seemed to echo in every direction.
Coop felt sorry for Grandmom. “Are they always this vocal?”
“They’re on a sugar high that will last till Thanksgiving.” Jenni shook her head and unzipped her jacket. “I’m not quite sure what to say about all of this.” She pointed to the post. “You didn’t have to do this, Mr. Armstrong.”
“It’s Coop, remember?” Coop started to pack up the rest of the tools. “I need to work on some brownie points to make up for my misspent youth—karma and all that stuff.”
She didn’t need or like charity. Although she couldn’t afford to have the entire house redone from top to bottom, she could pay a handyman to do some of the jobs to keep it from falling in on them. “I had two different men out here to help fix up the place. Neither lasted more than a week.”
She sighed as she looked at the wrinkled, mushed pumpkins. Four of the candles were out, one was burning okay, and the sixth pumpkin was giving off black smoke. She walked over to the smoldering gourds and blew out the remaining candles. Burning the place to the ground might solve some of her problems with the house, but then it also would create a whole new list of them.
Jenni disliked holidays and all the hoopla that surrounded them. She felt inept, even though she knew she was quite capable of handling anything thrown her way. Two years ago she had learned the hard way just how strong she could be.
Easter wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t hard to hide some eggs and fill colorful baskets. Halloween was a challenge. At her age she shouldn’t be climbing trees to string lights or hang ghosts. This year she had paid her sister-in-law’s boyfriend, Sam, to do the climbing and the stringing. Felicity and Sam had had a ball with the boys decorating the other weekend, even though the house looked a little over-the-top.
The panda still freaked her out every time she saw it. The plastic eyes, hanging out of its face, seemed to follow her every move.
Christmas was the worst. Last year she’d had to rely on the kindness of a neighbor to help get the eight-foot tree into their house and anchored securely. Then she had nearly broken her neck trying to get the star on top. The only outside decorating she had done was nail a wreath to the front door and drape a red scarf around a half-melted snowman the boys had built the day before. Her heart just wasn’t into Christmas or any other holidays.
She missed Kenneth too much.
For living in a house filled to the rafters with people and pets, she was lonely. She was a horrible person. Here she had so much to be thankful for, three beautiful and healthy boys, a mother-in-law who not only did all of the cooking, but also helped run the house and the boys. Then there was Felicity, Kenneth’s younger sister, and now hers.
“What happened to them? Did Dorothy make them explode with too many cookies and cups of coffee?” Coop closed up the toolbox.
“Power tools, electricity, and my boys aren’t a very good combination.” Then again, Tucker could make breathing dangerous.
“Ouch.” He placed the toolbox in the bed of his truck. “Want to elaborate, and was anyone hurt?”
“Mr. Carter swears Tucker took ten years off his life. Considering he was seventy-eight, he wasn’t real thrilled with my son. Lesson learned; never leave exposed wiring sticking out of the wall when you leave a room.”
“I didn’t know Vince Carter was still doing odd jobs around town.”
“He’s not any longer. He officially retired.”
Coop laughed. “What happened to number two?”
“An unattended caulking gun loaded with something called Liquid Nails. It took the cat months to grow back all its hair.”
Coop’s laughter filled the night. She chuckled for the first time about the incident. At the time it had been anything but funny, with poor Dumb stuck three feet up the dining room wall screeching its head off. The sounds that cat made were enough to raise the dead.
“Bob Sanders asked if Tucker’s middle name was Damian. He packed up his tools and hasn’t returned one of my phone calls since.”
Coop continued to laugh as he picked up his ladder and placed it in the bed of his truck. “Don’t worry about Sanders. He never did have a sense of humor.”
“You know him?” Maybe if she begged nicely she could get Coop to convince Sanders to come back for a couple of days. She’d even promise to lock Tucker in the attic, if need be. “He not only unjammed three of my windows, but he got the hot water working in the sink in one of the bathrooms.”
“I went to school with his two sons.” He placed the saw in the truck. “Don’t you have hot water in the other bathroom sinks?”
“Dorothy and Felicity’s sink doesn’t. But we did manage to get it to drain properly.”
“Who’s Felicity?”
“Dorothy’s daughter, and my sister-in-law.”
“She lives here too? How many people actually live here?” Coop was staring at the house like he was counting bedrooms.
“Six; me and my three boys, Dorothy, and Felicity, who is seventeen and dating Sam Fischer, Eli Fischer’s son from East Sullivan. Do you know him?” Being new to an area held some disadvantages, one being not knowing family histories. Sam seemed like a very nice boy, but maybe his family tree had a few ax murderers hanging out on some branches.
“I know Eli. Good, honest man. Can’t imagine the son being too much different. Hardworking family.”
Dorothy would be relieved to hear that, even though she was having a hard time adjusting to her baby dating boys who drove. “There is also Bojangles, whom you met, t
wo cats, Dumb and Dumber, an iguana, and a twenty-gallon fish tank that usually has a dead fish or two floating on the top.” No matter how hard she tried, it was nearly impossible to keep any fish alive for more than a month. The boys already had next month’s fish picked out.
“I’d hate to have your food bill. What do you do, own stock in Purina?”
“I’m not that lucky.” She wished she owned some stock, any stock. Then again, with the way the stock market rose and fell, it would probably cause her more headaches than it was worth. How rich could she get on cat food?
“Mom!” shouted Corey from inside the house. “Tucker’s taking my candy.”
“I’m not!”
“Are too.”
Chase, minus his beard and hat, opened the front door. “Grandmom says that Mr. Armstrong has to come in. She has something for him.”
“Could you tell her that I really don’t want anything, Jenni?”
“Not in this lifetime. No one says no to Dorothy. Just take whatever she’s giving you. It’s probably pumpkin bread or sugar cookies.” She smiled at Coop as she held the door open for him. “It’s how she thanks people. By giving them high cholesterol.”
Coop brushed sawdust off his jeans and wiped his feet. “What, she wants to keep the doctors in practice?”
“No, but she does own a few shares of stock in some drug companies.” Jenni tried to hold her smile as she entered the house. She had been hoping that some magical little elves had visited and cleaned up the place. No such luck. If possible it was worst than when she had left two hours ago.
The kids had been stripping out of their costumes, leaving them where they landed. Candy wrappers were everywhere, and it looked like Dumber had been eating the mulberry candle she had on the coffee table again. Chunks of maroon wax were hacked up on the area rug that hadn’t seen a vacuum in days. Legos and Hot Wheels were scattered everywhere, along with some of the boys’ artwork.
Chase had been constructing a tower out of marshmallows and toothpicks. Tucker and Corey had been doing noodle pictures, which consisted of lots of different-shape uncooked noodles and about a gallon of Elmer’s glue. Three months ago the local vet, Merle Sherman, wasn’t too happy with her or the boys when Bojangles ate Tucker’s noodle picture of Spider-Man. The dog wasn’t too happy with the vet, or its treatment.
“Please excuse the mess.” It didn’t matter who it was, she always seemed to be apologizing for how the house looked. It wasn’t her fault there weren’t enough hours in the day or that she was born with only two hands.
Corey went running for the steps, clutching his bag of candy and screaming. Tucker was fast on his tail. “Stop!” she shouted and held up her hand. “Enough.”
Both boys came to a screeching halt. “But Mom,” whined Corey, who had somehow managed to get out of his caterpillar outfit, all but the green tights and a baggy T-shirt. He looked like a demented Robin Hood with his face still painted green, with purple polka dots. For some reason, Corey had insisted on the dots.
“No buts.” She held out her hand. “The candy stays in the kitchen, not upstairs.”
Tucker grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at his younger brother as he handed over the candy.
Corey started to cry. “He’ll eat it all.”
“He will not.” She gave Tucker her sternest look. “You will not touch either one of your brothers’ candy. Got it?”
“Yeah, but I just wanted to trade.”
“No trading.” She rolled her eyes. Tucker was either going to be a gangster or a politician. “Where’s your bag?”
“In the kitchen with Grandmom.” Tucker started to head for the kitchen.
“You and Corey head on upstairs and get ready for your baths. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She gave her youngest son a hug and dried his tears. “I won’t let Tucker get any. But you guys have had enough for tonight. We’ll save some for the month of tomorrows to come.”
Corey sniffled. “Promise?”
She gave him another hug and a kiss. “Promise.” She turned him toward the stairs and lightly patted his bottom. “Now get going.”
Both boys dashed upstairs with pounding feet and shouts of who would be first.
Jenni took off her coat and scarf and added them to the pile of clothes on an overstuffed chair.
Coop chuckled and then cringed as a door slammed upstairs and one of the boys started shouting. The ornate chandelier hanging in the foyer area, at the bottom of the steps, shook above his head. He stepped to his right. “Is it always like this, or is Halloween a special occasion?”
“I would love to blame all the candy, but the sad truth is I can’t. They are always like this.” She headed for the kitchen. “Come on back.”
Coop followed while taking in everything. The living room had recently been painted a khaki color, all but the wall on which the stairs were located. That wall still had torn and faded wallpaper from the sixties on it. It would take scaffolding to do that wall because it went clear to the third floor. The furniture looked comfortable and there seemed to be plenty of it. A brick fireplace was against the outside wall, and it looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Hopefully Jenni would know to have it checked out before trying to light a fire in it. Ten to one the chimney needed some work, or at least a major cleaning.
Below his feet he could detect the rumbling of a furnace. At least the house was warm.
An orange cat came barreling down from upstairs and into the dining room. He had no idea if it had been Dumb or Dumber. By the noise the boys were making upstairs he would guess that hardwood floors were throughout the house. Jenni might consider looking into carpeting to lessen the noise.
“Who named the cats?” He knew of the movie, but Jenni didn’t look like a Dumb & Dumber type person, and the boys were too young to have seen the movie.
“They’re Felicity’s. She’s had them for about two years now.”
“She’s a movie fan?” That made sense. Their names sounded like something a teenager would give them.
“No, let’s just say they weren’t the sharpest kitties in the litter.” Jenni placed Corey’s candy bag on the kitchen table.
Although the rest of the house looked questionable, the kitchen was in top shape. White cabinets, some with glass front doors, new countertops, and top-of-the-line stainless-steel appliances filled the room. Baking ingredients were neatly lined up on counters, and there seemed to be quite a collection of small appliances. Someone took her cooking seriously, and her name was Dorothy Wright.
He looked at Dorothy and knew she commanded the kitchen like a captain would his vessel. Everything had to be shipshape and in top working order. By the smell, whatever she was doing, she was doing it right. He counted five loaves of some type of bread cooling on racks, and she was busy icing leaf-shaped cookies.
“All done, Coop?” Dorothy wielded the plastic bag of yellow icing like a pro.
“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at Chase, who was sitting at the large pine kitchen table counting his candy as he dropped it into a big plastic bowl. He was up to thirty-nine and it looked like he was only halfway through his pile.
“How many people live at your house?” Dorothy was now adding red icing to the two dozen leaves spread out before her.
“Only myself, ma’am.” What did it matter how many people lived at his place?
“No kids?” Dorothy glanced up from the cookies.
“No kids, no wife, not even a steady girlfriend.” He chuckled at the look of disbelief on Dorothy’s face. “But my parents live in Sullivan. Does that count?”
Dorothy gave Jenni a look he couldn’t decipher. “You like pumpkin bread?”
“Yes, ma’am, but you already paid me in coffee and cookies.” He was feeling guilty. The only reason he had supported that post was so that he could sleep tonight.
“Nonsense.” Dorothy put down the icing and wrapped one of the loaves in foil. “Since you won’t take money, you have to take food.”
“I do?” He
watched as Jenni dumped one of the boys’ bags into a large plastic bowl. She sealed the bowl with a matching lid, slapped a piece of masking tape on it, and wrote Tucker’s name.
“As my husband always said, ‘Union rules.’” Dorothy wrapped another loaf.
“I never heard of that rule.” He had been a union member out in California for almost twelve years.
“I’ve seen grown men strike over Dorothy’s blueberry pie.” Jenni paid her mother-in-law the compliment as she dumped Corey’s candy in the other bowl. “It’s the only reason we got the countertop and appliances installed. Dorothy kept feeding the crew.”
“You also went on a three-hour hike with the boys,” Dorothy chuckled. “Tucker was inquisitive that day.”
“Is inquisitive the same as bad?” asked Chase.
Coop really did try not to laugh. Everyone seemed to have Tucker’s number. Dorothy and Jenni ignored Chase’s question and changed the subject.
“How many did you count, Chase?” asked Jenni.
“Seventy-two.” Chase looked extremely proud of that fact, either because he could count that high, or because they had hit that many houses.
“That will last you till Christmas.” Jenni picked up Tucker’s bowl and compared it to Chase’s. “Do I want to know how many candy wrappers are all over the backseat of my car? Your brother’s stash seems to be short quite a few pieces.”
“He ate some,” Chase said.
Dorothy handed Coop two loaves of wrapped bread and a small container filled with cookies. “One is pumpkin, the other is cranberry nut. Since I didn’t know what kind of cookies you liked, I put a couple of each kind in there.”
“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to.” Dorothy didn’t look like a grandmother to three very active boys. Her reddish hair had some gray in it and there might be a wrinkle or two by her eyes, but that was about it. No bifocals, no age-spotted hands, and no big flowery aprons like his own grandmother used to wear. Jeans, a pink long-sleeve T-shirt with a moose on it, and sneakers were this granny’s baking outfit. The only flaw he could see was a smudge or two of flour on her nose.
Mistletoe Bay Page 3
