Thirty-Two and a Half Complications

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Good morning,” Maeve said, standing in the kitchen doorway in her bathrobe and slippers. “You’re up early.”

  I offered her a weak smile. “We had an eventful night.”

  “You seem to have a lot of those, I hear,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. My back bristled, but I couldn’t hear any hint of accusation in her words. She padded to the table and sat in the chair across from me. “Mason needs a bit of shaking up. You’ve brought some much-needed excitement into his life.”

  My mouth parted in surprise.

  “Didn’t expect that, did you?”

  I released a nervous laugh. “No.”

  “He hasn’t always been this serious. He’s got a heart of gold, and before his father died he used to be so light-hearted.” She took a sip of her coffee and cradled the cup in front of her. “Van’s death was hard on all of us. Everyone loved Van, and Mason was just like him. But for all of Van’s great character traits, it turned out that he was exceptionally bad at financial planning. We struggled after his death.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  A soft smile lit up her face and she patted my hand. “That was a decade ago. We struggled through it, but Mason changed. He thought he had to step up and be the man of the family, and he took that role seriously. So when Savannah began to act out, Mason took it hard. He tried to help her—we both did—but you can only help someone who wants to be helped, and no matter how much we loved Savannah, she didn’t want to change.”

  I turned my hand over and covered her fingers with mine. “I can only imagine how difficult it was for you both.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Mason felt like he failed her and he didn’t handle it well. He’d succeeded at everything in his life, yet he felt like he’d failed at the one thing that mattered. He smiled even less after that.”

  “You’re right. He does have a big heart. He’s so accepting of all of my friends when other people in my life have been judgmental of them. So I can only imagine how hard it was for him when Savannah refused to get help.”

  “Then you can guess at the rage and the sorrow he experienced after her death. He felt like he’d failed her all over again. And when he hurt that man and lost his job…” She took a deep breath and her voice broke when she spoke again. “I thought I’d lost him too.”

  I squeezed her hand, not knowing what else to do. Words seemed so inadequate.

  “Then he moved here and he hated this place. He could have found another job—a better one—someplace else. But I think he considered working here as his penance.” She paused and smiled. “Until he met you. He told me about your first meeting soon after it happened. Did he mention that to you?”

  “He told me a couple of months later.”

  “Every time he talked about you, something in his voice changed. He changed. The hardness started slipping away.”

  “He just needed a friend.”

  “You underestimate your influence, dear. He needed you.”

  I blushed.

  “So don’t apologize for the excitement that seems to follow you around like the Pied Piper. He loves it and he loves you. I’m very happy for you both.”

  Mason appeared in the doorway while his mother and I were smiling at each other like a couple of fools. He froze in his tracks. “Why do I get the impression I should run for safety?”

  I turned and gave him a wicked grin. “Shouldn’t a man appreciate the fact that his girlfriend loves his mother?”

  He grinned as he headed for the coffee maker. “While I do appreciate that more than you can possibly know—” he poured coffee into his cup “—I also know that the two of you will be an unstoppable force of nature if you team up together.”

  “Get used to it, Mason,” she said. “In fact, I’d like to talk to you about something important if you have a moment. I would have mentioned it last night, but we got distracted.”

  Worry flickered in his eyes as he sat in the chair at the head of the table. “Of course, Mom.”

  I started to get up. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

  Mason’s mother grabbed my hand. “No, I’d like you to stay, Rose. This involves you too.”

  “Okay.” I sat down, my stomach a bundle of nerves.

  “You both know that I came down here with the purpose of finding a new home for Mason. I had already set up the appointments, so you can imagine my surprise when I found out about the change in plans.”

  Mason cringed. “It wasn’t like we purposely didn’t tell you, Mom. We just decided—”

  “Mason,” she laughed. “I’m not angry. But I’d already made the appointments, so I kept them.”

  We both watched her as understanding began to dawn on me.

  “One of the houses was darling. And you know that I’ve been thinking about selling my house in Little Rock, so…” She looked sheepish. “I’m considering moving here to Henryetta. Now, you two don’t have to say anything, but think about it—”

  “Mom, I would love that,” Mason interrupted.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’d be so happy. Honestly. This is perfect.”

  She beamed. “Well, okay. I’ll put in an offer.”

  “This calls for a celebration dinner tonight,” Mason said, standing. “We’ll go out to dinner at the Little Italy restaurant.”

  I went upstairs to get ready for the day, wondering if it was time to take the pregnancy test. Mason and I had smoothed out. His mother was moving closer to us. But my business was even more of a mess than it had been yesterday. Maybe it would always be a mess. Maybe there was no perfect time.

  Bruce Wayne met me at the store and we walked through the wreckage. His gaze shifted to the wall. “I’m gonna call Skeeter. If you’re gonna be helping him, he needs to be helping you.”

  Just what I needed—protection for my business from Henryetta’s probably soon-to-be top-ranking criminal.

  “Have you heard anything from him?”

  “No,” I scowled.

  “What do you want to do about this mess? Start cleaning?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, completely overwhelmed. “I suppose the insurance adjustor needs to come see it first. Violet’s in charge of that stuff.” The Christmas trees were supposed to be delivered today but we didn’t have the money to pay for them. Violet had placed the order and was supposed to meet with the delivery guy. I decided to let her deal with telling him to take his shipment back. “The fact is we lost more money last night. Money we couldn’t afford to lose. We’re up crap creek without a paddle.”

  A grin tugged at his mouth. “Then we better get some nose plugs.”

  That was one of the many reasons I liked working with Bruce Wayne. I bumped my arm into his and grinned up at him. “Let’s go finish our landscaping job. It may very well be our last.”

  He sobered. “Then let’s make it a good one.”

  We’d just gotten to the job site when I got a text from an unknown number. After I read it, I knew it had to be from Skeeter.

  I heard about your bad luck. I’ve declared you as my own and plan to make it right.

  “What does that mean?” I asked Bruce Wayne after I read him the text, afraid to hear his answer.

  “It means that Skeeter is making it known that you fall under his protection and anyone who messes with you will meet his wrath.”

  “Oh, crap.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “It could be a good thing.” Only he didn’t sound so sure.

  “What’s the flip side to that, Bruce Wayne?”

  “Everyone and their brother is gonna be curious as to why he’s got an interest in you. Skeeter rarely claims things, so they’ll be even more curious. Especially when they add in the fact that you’re with the assistant DA.”

  “What can I do?” I asked, panicked. “What if this hurts Mason somehow?”

  Bruce Wayne put his hand on my arm. “Deep breath, Rose. It’s not gonna get back to him. Maybe Jonah will hear about it, but not
Mason.”

  “How did I fall into this hole?”

  “I dug it for you. I’m sorry.”

  “No.” I waved my hand. “What’s done is done. We can’t go changing it now.”

  We worked in silence for several minutes and I could tell Bruce Wayne was beating himself up over Skeeter. I needed to get his mind off it.

  “Can you believe Violet’s still planning on coming to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?” But then again, maybe she’d changed her mind after our middle-of-the-night argument.

  “That should be interesting.”

  A new thought struck me. “You’re still coming, right? I know you hate conflict and you might be worried we’ll argue.”

  “I’m still comin’. I wouldn’t miss it. Do I need to bring something?”

  “Nope. Just yourself.”

  We had things wrapped up by three and I hurried home, feeling a rush of gratitude that Mason’s mom had offered to do the shopping. When I got home, I found her in the kitchen, with the turkey in the sink.

  “Nothing like giving a turkey a pre-Thanksgiving bath,” she said when I walked in.

  “I’m sorry. I should have bought it last week, but with the bank robbery and everything else…”

  “Not to worry. We’ll just force him to warm up. Did you have a good day?”

  “As good as can be expected when you’re staring into the face of your business’s demise.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  I waved my hand. I was sick of worrying about it. “Just me being dramatic about the break-in at the shop. What I want to know is how your day went. Did you sign the paperwork on the house?”

  “I did, and I get possession on the fifteenth. Things are working out perfectly.”

  And that’s exactly when nausea started to churn in my stomach. Nothing in my life stayed perfect.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I woke up on Thanksgiving morning feeling more thankful than ever. I had a house I loved, a loyal dog—except when she was kissing up to Joe, of course—and a loving man whose mother was a wonderful asset to our lives. I had so much to be thankful for I decided to ignore my troubles and revel in the positives.

  Mason was still dozing and I snuggled against him, almost wishing we could stay in bed half the day. My phone dinged with a text message and I leaned over to grab it, figuring it was Violet telling me that she wasn’t coming after all. I wasn’t expecting the message on the screen.

  It’s all going down today. Your presence is required. Time TBD

  They had moved the auction. Why? And I’d never agreed to go in the first place. What was I going to do? But even as I asked myself the question, I knew I had to go. The real question was what would I tell Mason?

  He rolled over and pulled me against his chest. “Who was that?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I set the phone down on my nightstand. “I can think of a much better use of my time.”

  His lips found mine and his hand skimmed along my neck before he lifted his head. “Rose, your heart is racing at a million miles per minute.”

  “It doesn’t take much for you to get me worked up.”

  His eyes pierced mine. “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “What else could it be?” Then I thoroughly distracted him, so that he never thought to ask me again.

  After we got up and got ready for the day, I texted Neely Kate.

  I have to go into town later, but I can’t tell M why. Will you cover for me?

  She answered within seconds.

  What are you up to?

  I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to tell her. But before I could answer she sent:

  It’s about Skeeter, isn’t it?

  Yes

  She didn’t answer me for ten minutes and I worried that I’d pushed her too far.

  Promise me you’ll be careful

  Pinky promise

  When?

  I’ll text you when I know. I’ll tell M I’m helping you make pies.

  But I’m not making pies.

  Even better

  I was a nervous wreck for the rest of the morning, and I did a really bad job of hiding it. Mason’s mother and I were in the kitchen making multiple dishes for the dinner later that afternoon and I kept dropping things.

  “Are you okay, Rose?” she asked after I dropped a bag of potatoes that spilled all over the floor.

  “Yeah, fine,” I murmured. It was past eleven and I still hadn’t heard anything more from Skeeter.

  “It’s normal to be nervous while hosting your first Thanksgiving,” she said, squatting next to me and helping me pick them up. “It’s going to be lovely. Don’t worry. It’s the company that matters. The food comes second.”

  I leaned over and gave her an awkward hug. “Thank you.” This woman was as kind and understanding as I’d always wished my own mother would be.

  My cell phone buzzed with a text in my sweater pocket. I finished scooping up the vegetables and set them on the counter. “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

  Mason’s mother put her hand on mine. “Deep breath. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  Too bad she didn’t have the sight.

  Running into the powder room, I fought a fresh wave of nausea. I dug the phone out of my pocket with shaky fingers, both relieved and strangely disappointed to see it was from Bruce Wayne…until I read the message.

  Skeeter wants us to meet him at the pool hall at 12:15

  I wasn’t sure I could do this. I wasn’t sure I should do this.

  It was time to pull out my excuse.

  When I found Mason, he was in his office talking on the phone. He gave me a sheepish grin and held up a finger. “Thanks, I’ll see you in a bit,” he said before hanging up.

  “You’re going somewhere?”

  “Only for a little while. We have a strong lead on your store’s break-in.”

  “You do?” I asked in surprise. If they arrested the robbers, I might be able to cancel my meeting with Skeeter. “What is it?”

  “I can’t give you too many specifics since it’s an ongoing investigation, but all evidence is pointing to Brody MacIntosh’s wife.”

  “What?” I felt vindicated—after all, Joe and Violet had blamed me for the destruction of the store—but this also meant I was nowhere close to getting out of my date with a hardened criminal.

  “Looks like she figured out that Brody and Violet were sneaking around again, meeting at a motel outside of town.”

  I sank into the doorjamb. Oh, Violet. What had she done?

  “Joe is going to tell Violet the news. They seem to have gotten closer. It will probably be easier for her to hear from him than from Detective Taylor. Taylor agreed to make the arrangements at my suggestion.”

  I nodded, feeling numb. “Good idea.”

  “You okay?”

  I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I will be. I’m just sad for Violet.” I paused. “What would drive her to this? This isn’t the behavior of the sister I know.”

  “People change, Rose. And not always for the better.”

  Or sometimes they didn’t change at all.

  I took several steps into the room, my eyes landing on the papers on the desk.

  Mason lifted his hands in defense. “I know I promised not to work today, but I figured you and Mom were busy in the kitchen, and that if I knocked out some work now, I’d free up time for this weekend.”

  “It’s a great plan.”

  “I need to run into the office, though. I might be gone for a bit.”

  “Oh.” I hoped they weren’t planning to arrest Brody’s wife on Thanksgiving Day. Although rumor had it she liked to shop, so arresting her on Black Friday might even be worse. She may have destroyed our business, but part of me understood why. Her husband had cheated on her, and his status as mayor made that transgression all the more embarrassing. But I decided to take Mason’s errand as a blessing in disguise. It would make it easier for me t
o slip away.

  He stood and moved toward me. “I hope you’re not too disappointed in me.”

  “Mason, it’s fine. Do what you need to do and we’ll plan something fun with your mom for Saturday. Maybe we can drive down to Shreveport and do some early Christmas shopping.”

  A smile lit up his eyes. “That sounds perfect. It’s a date.”

  I pulled him into a hug. “When this is all done, let’s try to have more of those.”

  “When what’s all done?”

  Oh, crap. “You know. The bank robbery nonsense and the mess with the nursery.”

  He gave me a kiss, amusement written across his face. “Is there ever a dull moment with you, Rose Gardner?”

  “I used to be dull as dirt. Now…”

  He kissed me again. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t want you any other way. So put away whatever thought’s putting that worry on your face. I’ll run into town and hopefully this won’t take too long.”

  “You take as long as you need.” It meant I didn’t have to come up with an excuse he might not believe.

  He left soon after and I gave his mother my excuse about Neely Kate needing my help.

  “Go help your friend, Rose. We’ve got everything covered here.”

  She was so nice that I felt bad about deceiving her. But no matter how nice she was, I couldn’t very well tell her I was going into Henryetta so I could attend an underground auction.

  I ran upstairs to change, unsure what the appropriate attire would be for such an event. I decided on jeans with my leather boots, a cream-colored turtleneck sweater, and my brown leather jacket.

  I had almost made it into town when a sheriff’s car headed in the opposite direction turned on its lights and did a U-turn on the highway, pulling up behind me. Groaning, I steered my car over to the shoulder and stopped, the sheriff’s car stopping too. I hadn’t been speeding, so I had no idea why I was being pulled over. Or at least I didn’t until I saw who was sidling up to my car.

  Joe.