by Lynn Rae
They studied the images and Paul immediately noticed a crack running along Great-Great-Uncle Peter’s left temple. He pointed it out to Emily and she zoomed in.
“Poor guy, it looks like his ear is decaying.”
“I’m surprised a pigeon hasn’t knocked it off yet.”
Emily grinned at him and squeezed his arm. “Hey, if he loses it, we could call him the van Gogh of Spanish-American War statues.”
“That’d be a good marketing hook.”
“Right, we could sponsor a scavenger hunt and send people all over looking for his ear!” Emily laughed out loud, and her eyes sparkled. That was one thing he’d noticed about her; despite her sensitivity, she bounced back into a good mood fairly quickly. It was quite a contrast to Karen, who’d been known to hold grudges for days. “Then again, squirrels might make a nest inside him.”
“We could give Punxsutawney Phil a run for his money and create some story about them predicting how long winter will last.”
“Or we could have people guess how many acorns they store inside the body.”
He couldn’t suppress his laugh any longer, and she followed suit.
“What are you two giggling about?” Roger bellowed. He was standing in front of the monument now, Dave nowhere to be seen.
“Just looking over some close-up pictures,” Paul replied as Emily stayed quiet. He’d noticed she wasn’t participating in conversations with the other two men as much and suspected she was still a little hurt by their behavior in Dorchester, not to mention their continuous off-color comments.
“You need a wide-angle lens for this!” Roger gestured upward at the statue’s groin, and Paul heard Emily’s indrawn breath. Not again. Anger pulsed through Paul, and he left Emily’s side and approached Roger.
“Come on, Roger, enough with the crude stuff.” Despite his deceptively mild tone, for the first time in a very long time, Paul felt like punching another man.
“Hey, ease back.” Roger scowled and shook his head. “What’s your problem? I was just making a joke.”
“Yeah, Paul, you should be complimented since you’re related to the guy. It looks like he’s carrying some extra ammunition, judging from the bulge up there.” Dave had circled around the other side and was staring at Paul like he’d sprouted green horns and smoke was leaking out of his ears. Was it really so perplexing to the other men that he would confront them about their bad behavior?
Paul didn’t care what they thought. “I know we’re volunteers for this thing, but it’s part of Emily’s job. We owe it to her to take it more seriously.”
Both Dave and Roger turned their faces up into almost identical expressions of dissatisfaction, and Paul knew he’d offended them. So be it; they were acting like asses.
“Give me a break. We haven’t said anything that bad,” Roger said as Dave nodded. “She needs to toughen up.”
Paul’s peripheral vision blurred as his anger wound up. She was the lone female on this committee; both Roger and Dave were bigger and more boisterous than she was, and had more clout in the community. Still, they persisted in these immature antics she couldn’t do anything about. In a sudden flash of understanding, he realized Emily had to dread these meetings. Paul knew if she was to mention anything to Shelly, his sister would tell her to confront the men and put her foot down. After all, it’s what Shelly would do, and her overabundant self-confidence blinded her to the fact that other people weren’t so “blessed.”
“Hey, Emily! You know we were just joking, right? Guys being guys!” Dave hollered out. Emily glanced at them and shrugged her shoulders.
“Sure, Dave.” She didn’t sound amused or relaxed, not that she should be.
Paul didn’t know what to do. Dave’s faux apology had done nothing to curb his frustration, but if he continued the confrontation as a deep, dark part of him wanted to, it would only make Emily’s situation more awkward. She didn’t need two middle-aged men swinging their fists at each other in the middle of the park. “Fine. How about you two call it a day? We’ve gotten nearly everything we need anyway. I’ll help Emily return the equipment.”
Roger shot a sly glance at Dave. “You go finish up with little Miss Delicate over there.”
Dave grinned. “Yeah, go tell her how you protected her from the big, bad men.”
Paul tightened his lips and bent his head because he didn’t want to look at the two of them anymore. They had never grown up. Their unrepentant bullying made a lot of long-forgotten resentments from high school come flooding back. If they couldn’t see the impossible situation they were putting Emily in, he knew he wouldn’t be able to enlighten them.
Without another word, both men stalked off. Paul wondered if this was going to be the last meeting of the Spanish-American War Monument Restoration Committee and realized he didn’t care anymore. He’d recruit new members, and they’d get the job done without rampant misogyny.
He turned and looked back at Emily. She was crouched down next to a bag on the ground, stowing the camera equipment inside. The ladder was already folded up and ready to carry to the truck.
“Did they quit?” she asked in a quiet voice as she watched him approach.
Taking his time to answer, Paul crouched down next to her and looked over the bag. “Not in so many words. Maybe they weren’t a good fit in the first place.”
Letting out a big sigh, Emily hung her head down. “Great. My most important assignment and I’ve already lost two-thirds the people who were supposed to help. If I hadn’t signed a contract for a year, I bet I’d be fired by the next town-council meeting.”
She looked at him with eyes bright with incipient tears, and Paul’s heart ached for her. He didn’t know what to say, because she was right. He hated to think of how his sister was going to react when she found out. It was his fault he’d escalated the situation by confronting the men. If he’d kept his mouth shut as Emily had, everything would appear all right, even if the personal dynamics were unhealthy.
“Are you going to quit, too?” she whispered the question.
Paul shook his head. “No way. I’m completely on board with helping Great-Great-Uncle Peter, especially now that I’ve seen the sad state of his ear. I’m in this for the duration.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“And don’t worry, if they don’t show up next week, I’ll find some replacements. I have no idea why they even volunteered. Neither one of them are especially interested in history. Besides, we’re the ones doing all the work anyway, right?”
She still seemed downcast, so Paul tried to think of something to cheer her up.
“Are you busy for dinner tonight?” Where the hell had that invitation come from? Paul questioned his impulse but forgot it when he saw Emily’s eyes light up and a faint smile curve her lips.
“No plans. Do you want to go somewhere?”
Paul breathed out a breath of relief and surprise combined. Not only had she not recoiled, she’d actually asked him!
“I would. How about the Grille? I can pick you up at six or seven, whatever works for your schedule.”
“How about six thirty?” Now, a genuinely pleased smile lit up her features, and he couldn’t help but respond. A rush of affection welled up inside him like a warm hug, and he had to restrain himself from touching her. Just as she didn’t need to watch a brawl, she didn’t need him making things awkward by grasping at her closest body part.
Was it a date, or wasn’t it? Emily couldn’t figure it out. It was probably just Paul’s kind way of trying to make up for how crude his compatriots had been. She knew she should be able to put up with innuendo and poor language in a more professional way, let it roll off her back as her brother would advise. No matter how she tried, her anxiety got the best of her. Especially considering her job was at stake.
Maybe she was just a prude. Emily considered this possibility as she finished making Sugar Beet Festival updates to the Main Street webpage and copied them to Facebook. She’d already uploaded all the phot
os she and Paul had taken and organized them into the proper folders. A little smile crept up the corners of her mouth as she thought about him. She wondered how their dinner would go, and she had a feeling it would be the highlight of her week.
Angie stuck her head in her narrow office door. “The mayor’s on line two.”
Emily’s gut clenched with nerves. Angie only said “the mayor” when Shelly was very displeased. She nodded to a sympathetic-looking Angie and picked up her phone as the other woman closed the door gently behind her.
“Yes, Mayor Laskey, what can I do for you?” She hoped polite and brisk was the right way to go.
“You can start by explaining why Roger just got off the phone with me offering to resign from the committee.”
Oh. That was quick. “I’m not sure why he would say that.”
“According to him, it’s because you’re upset with him. He thinks you don’t like him and would probably appreciate having someone else to work with.”
Emily was sure he hadn’t exactly explained why she was upset, and she was equally sure she didn’t want to explain it either. It made her seem foolish, and him sound like a jerk, which he was. How did he manage to make it seem like it was her problem they weren’t getting along? Now she had to smooth things over with her boss even though the thought of not having to look at Roger again was a wonderful idea.
“I’m sorry he feels that way and called you about it. Did he quit?” Emily held her breath. Worst-case scenario was he’d resigned and the mayor would demand she beg Roger to return to the committee. Emily would have no respect from either Dave or Roger if that happened. Not that she’d gotten much respect from them.
“No, I had to beg him not to. Emily, you might not be aware, but he owns a very successful car dealership and is extremely generous with the boosters every year. I was hoping we could develop him as a contributor to other civic projects. Like the statue restoration.” Shelly’s tone was equal parts chiding and lecturing.
“I see.” Emily did see. She saw she was going to be stuck with Roger and his rude ways for the remainder of her time here.
“I hope you do. I can’t be there to manage every little personal issue that might arise. I’m depending on you and Angie to handle these things properly. Once I get the go-ahead to return part-time, I’ll take over the statue meetings. Things will go smoother then.”
The mayor’s quick decision to cut Emily out of one of the key components of her work stung. “I understand.”
“Good. Just keep things pleasant until I can get back. Listen, I know Roger can be a bit, overbearing,” Shelly sounded more mollifying now as she imparted advice. “He’s just from an older generation with a different sense of what’s appropriate. You have to push back with him, or learn to ignore it.”
Emily was quiet. Her parents were of an older generation and would never dream of acting so crassly, but apparently Roger and Dave got a free pass. Being connected, male, and well-off might have a bit to do with it.
“I’ll do my best to ignore it,” Emily assured her boss. There was no way she’d attempt to assert herself with the two men, the confrontation would be a rout, and she’d come out looking even more foolish.
“Fine. That’s all I needed to hear.” Shelly sighed over the phone, and Emily wondered how uncomfortable she was. Just thinking of having all that artificial material pinned in the other woman’s bones make her wince with sympathy. “Did you get any good photographs today?”
“Yes. I just uploaded them and would be happy to forward some to you.”
“Send me everything.”
Emily grimaced. She’d taken nearly fifty and the idea of attaching and sending so many was daunting. She opened up her e-mail and hit Compose. “Sure, I’ll do it right away.”
“Have you updated the website?”
“Yes, and the social media outlets, too.”
Shelly was silent for a moment, so Emily took the opportunity to start loading the files into the e-mail. Her self-confidence had just been crushed, but she knew she was capable of sending an e-mail.
“All right then. Send me back to Angie, please.”
Emily said goodbye with relief, pressed the Hold key, and alerted Angie it was her turn. So much for getting out of her tiny office a little early so she could prepare for her date with Paul. Or the not date.
Paul turned down the street toward Courtney’s apartment and saw flashing red-and-blue lights reflecting off the white-sided houses. He found them just as startling as when he and Emily had almost hit the deer. It was near dark, and his daughter had called fifteen minutes ago with a frantic request for help. She’d been nearly incoherent and Paul had been confused and frightened until a police officer had taken over the phone and succinctly informed him there had been a domestic incident at the apartment and his daughter wanted him to come over and help her.
He’d gotten in his car and was driving before he really thought about what might have happened to her. A domestic incident implied there had been an argument and perhaps Courtney had been hurt. Damn that Jordan if he’d harmed her. Paul had never gotten the impression the quiet young man had a violent streak, but he guessed anything was possible when tempers flared.
He parked a few yards away from the cruiser and walked slowly toward the front door. He didn’t want to rush in and startle the police or Courtney. The front door was open, and he knocked on it to be greeted by a grim-faced, uniformed man. He introduced himself and the officer beckoned for him to walk toward the kitchen. As he passed the living room, he saw Jordan sitting on the sofa while a female officer interviewed him. The younger man’s eyes were glassy, and he slumped on the sofa as if exhausted.
When Paul entered the kitchen, Courtney looked up and ran to him, her dark hair a wild tangle. She wrapped her arms around him, and her body shook as he tried to soothe her.
Another police officer was writing in a small black notebook, and he glanced up to assess Paul.
“Hi, I’m Paul Ellison, Courtney’s father. What happened here?” He hoped that came out coherently. He was so discomfited by what was happening he wasn’t sure if he’d put the words together correctly.
“We’re finishing her statement and the other resident’s. They’re both going to have to come in to sign them tomorrow and one of them will need a place to stay for the night.” The police officer sounded as matter-of-fact as a waiter would while reciting the day’s specials.
“Courtney, do you want to come home with me?”
“No, I want Jordan out of here. It’s my place. My name’s on the lease.” She twisted her head away from his shoulder to stare at the police officer who merely raised his eyebrows, closed his notebook, and exited the kitchen.
“What happened, sweetheart? Are you hurt?” Paul glanced over her arms and legs and gently eased her away to look at her face. Other than her mussed hair and flustered expression, she looked like normal Courtney.
“I’m okay. Just upset and sick of him.”
“They’ll escort him out.” Paul gestured toward one of the stools at her counter. Everything in the kitchen was in place and the neatness was a strange contrast with the presence of police and such stress.
“Good.” Courtney sat and folded her arms across her chest.
“You two had a fight?”
“We did, and it was no big deal until some stupid neighbor called the police. There’s no privacy in this place, Dad. I want to find someplace bigger, with a yard and no snooping people up in my business. Buying my own house would be a great boost to my career.”
“Let’s worry about that another time. How about you tell me what happened tonight.” Paul tried to relax. If something criminal had happened here, Jordan would be in custody, so perhaps it was simply a loud argument that had annoyed her neighbors.
“Dad, I’m really stressed-out and tired. Are they gone? I want to go take a bath and relax or something.” Courtney blithely ignored his request for information as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Are we done here?” Paul asked the man who seemed to be in charge. The officer turned his contained gaze on him and paused before he spoke.
“Mr. Ellison, is it?” They shook hands, and he waited for some information to guide him on what he should do next. “They need to spend the night apart and then come in to sign their statements in the morning. Probably be a good idea for them to breakup permanently, but it’s unlikely.”
Paul nodded. He’d never liked the dynamic between Courtney and Jordan. There was always some sort of petty grievance between them, but it had never flared into something this serious before. Usually they were just snappish and miserable with each other.
“Will there be any charges filed?”
The officer pursed his lips and shrugged one shoulder, the bulletproof vest under his shirt straining the material. “First time we’ve been called out, both of them calmed right down when we got here. No one claiming assault. So, if they behave themselves, I don’t expect to see them again.”
A rush of relief filled Paul, and he sighed out a pent-up breath. The police officer gave him a nod and walked out to the porch to join his officers as they headed for their cruisers. Paul locked the door behind them and went back to the kitchen where he found Courtney checking on something with her phone.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to post this on Facebook,” Paul said as he checked her refrigerator for some sort of food. It was even more empty than his own.
“As if I would, Dad. I’m just texting Becca.”
His irritation flared. Paul didn’t know if it was the paltry contents of the refrigerator, or Courtney’s blasé attitude about having the police come to breakup a fight she had with her boyfriend. He just knew he’d feel better about the sad situation if she was at least acting like she was upset. Courtney let out a sigh and dropped her phone theatrically on the counter and stared at him with a challenging look.
