“What’s going on?”
Gen opened her mouth but couldn’t say it. How could she admit to her beautiful, oh-so-together sister that she didn’t know how to step out of her shell? “I need a hobby.” She winced at the lame excuse for the call.
“Huh?”
“Okay. I know to a mother of three kids under five it sounds silly, but...got any ideas?”
“I thought you had that awful dog.”
“Sadie’s still around,” Gen admitted, nodding to Sadie as she thumped her tail.
“And don’t you work out like crazy?”
“Not as much as I used to. I was thinking I need some variety in my life. Maybe something a little more crafty.” Gen closed her eyes as she heard what she was saying. Really, could she sound any more backward?
But Margaret wasn’t laughing at all. “What? Like knitting? Crochet?”
Gen would rather stab someone with a knitting needle than try to figure out how to use one. “No.”
“Hold on.” Once again Gen heard her sister talking to all three kids, followed by another onslaught of cereal being poured. “I’m not fooled by this hobby talk for a second, Genevieve Slate. What’s really going on?”
It was scary how Margaret could sound just like their mother. “Nothing.”
“It is so something. It’s a man. Right?”
It was more like a lack of one. But who was she to split hairs? “Kind of.”
“Gen...just tell me.”
“This morning it occurred to me that all I’ve been doing is working and taking care of Sadie. Maybe I need something to get me out more, give myself a reason to put on some lipstick and just relax once in a while.”
“I get it.”
“I doubt it. I don’t think you’ve ever had to worry about being seen as just a friend by any guy.” Although Gen said this with horror, she had always been impressed—and a bit jealous—that boys had always loved Margaret.
“Stop that talk,” Margaret admonished. “Momma never gave you credit, Gen. Just because you weren’t interested in prom dresses or lip gloss didn’t mean you weren’t attractive. You are, you know. You’re beautiful.”
Margaret’s words were like a soothing balm, coating over a lifetime of old hurts and imagined slights. Once again Gen wondered if maybe the world hadn’t pushed her away as much as she’d been pushing.
After her sister settled yet another argument with her children, she came back on the line. “Gen, I’ve got the perfect hobby. It’s not quite crafty, but it’s more your speed. Gardening.”
Didn’t that involve plants? Keeping things alive? “Seriously?”
“Gardening would be perfect. It’s physical and you’ll get to sweat. I know how you like to do that,” she teased.
Now wait a minute! “Margaret—”
But all her sister did was speak a little louder. “You’ll get to nurture something. Be outside. Be around other people.”
“I’m around a lot of people with my job.”
“Giving them tickets! That’ll make you a lot of friends! Gardening is different. It’s calm.”
Calm did sound good. “How is gardening going to improve my love life?”
“Everyone who gardens talks about gardening. Maybe you could join a club,” Margaret continued. The way she was rushing her words told Gen she was getting more and more excited by the suggestion.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said sarcastically.
As the kids started going crazy in the background, Margaret said, “Ugh, these three are driving me batty today. I’ve gotta go. Did I help at all?”
She sounded so enthusiastic Gen couldn’t say no. Although Gen wasn’t great at asking Meg for help, she wanted a better relationship with her sister. Perhaps the gap wasn’t quite as one-sided as Gen had always thought it to be and Meg had just been waiting for Gen to make the first step. Maybe—just maybe—one day they could be a whole lot closer. “Some,” she said.
“Easter’s coming. Grow a lily. It might be fun.”
One plant. She could do that. “Maybe I will. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you—I won’t be coming home for Easter. I’ve gotta work.”
“I kinda figured that since you’ve never been able to make it home for many holidays.” Will, Meg’s baby, was now crying hard enough to wake the dead. “Sorry. I really gotta go. Bye!”
After Gen hung up, she turned to Sadie. “I have a plan. One day soon I’m going to grow lilies and think about something else besides work, Cary Hudson or industrial-size bags of peanut M&M’s.”
Sadie rolled to her side and groaned just as Gen’s cell phone rang. “Slate.”
“Gen, I’ve got a problem,” Sam said. “I can’t find the report about Mrs. Bodwell’s car break-in. Any idea where you put it?”
“Yep.” As Gen told Sam where she filed her paperwork before going off duty, then volunteered to help him find it, Sadie opened one eye and blinked.
Gen had a pretty good idea what the beagle was thinking. Her new hobby might not come about quite as quickly as she hoped.
* * *
“I’M ON TRAFFIC DUTY?” Gen asked late Monday afternoon. “Again? It’s raining.” Directing traffic in the rain meant wet feet and annoyed drivers. She’d be soaked to the skin in minutes.
Gen didn’t really mind the duty, but since she’d been asked to direct traffic the last two times it rained, the assignment felt like a game of “let’s haze the rookie.”
She’d already gone through this ritual with the Cincinnati Police Department and she wasn’t eager to do it again. “Who decided the new girl needed this job?” she said out loud to the nearly empty rec room.
“This old guy,” Sergeant John Conrad called from the far corner, and her heart jumped into her throat. “I thought you could take a shift,” he said in his trademark scratchy voice. “You know, do your part?” As he stepped out of the shadows, he added, “Unless you got a problem with that, Slate?”
She stood at attention. “No, sir. I have no problem with the assignment. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you over by the coffeemaker.”
“I figured as much.” Sergeant Conrad grinned, causing the creases around his eyes to deepen. “At ease, Gen.”
She attempted to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to complain. It was more like good-natured griping.”
“I hear ya. I do the same thing about the bran flakes my wife makes me eat every morning.” He cleared his throat. “Since we’re chatting and all, the lieutenant asked me to check in with you.” Conrad sat down, gingerly resting his back against the back of the plastic chair. “So, you, uh, doing okay in Lane’s End? Getting used to the place? Getting used to the department?”
“I am.” Gen sat down across from him, noticing Sam Clark sitting nearby reading a magazine.
“Good. Good. Things are different here than in the CPD. Our community expects you to take time to get to know them.” Tapping a beat-up ballpoint pen on his clipboard, he added, “It makes your job easier, by the way, if you’re familiar with everyone.”
Gen knew what he was trying to say. It had been hard to get used to the new department’s way of doing things. In Lane’s End, the cops worked together, not competitively as they had in Cincinnati.
Gen had also been trying to choose her words more carefully, since she’d been fool enough to let all the cops in her old department witness her jealousy of Keaton’s new girlfriend. But as Gen realized she’d just been openly complaining about traffic duty, she knew she needed to work on that.
“I did go to a basketball game,” she said, eager to at least prove that she’d been trying to get out in the community more.
Sam snorted from his seat, showing he wasn’t that engrossed in his reading, after all—and reminded Gen that she’d fought the excursion to the school last week tooth an
d nail.
Sergeant Conrad nodded. “That’s the way. I thought I’d heard you went to the Lions game the other night. I missed it—grandkids.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t make it.” As she recalled the way the Lions had fought after slipping by six points, she added, “It was pretty exciting. Half the town was there.” Including Cary Hudson.
“Lieutenant Banks recommended we assign additional officers for the next game. If the Lions keep winning, things could get out of hand.”
Recalling how loud and vibrant the place had been, Gen attempted to imagine it even more jam-packed.
“I heard through the grapevine that the high school wants to do a parade if we go to state,” Sam interjected, his magazine now closed.
“That’ll be fun,” the sergeant said, sarcasm coating his voice. “A third of the town’s going to be in the parade, another third is going to want to watch the thing and the last third is going to raise enough Cain about the traffic and congestion that we’ll wish the game of basketball had never been invented.”
Gen laughed. After getting caught up in downtown’s traffic, she had a feeling she knew which third she would be a part of.
The sergeant tapped his watch. “Speaking of traffic, half of Lane’s End is going to be heading through downtown right about now. If you haven’t figured it out yet, families here take their soccer practices seriously.”
“Even in the rain?”
“Especially in the rain. Better get a move on, Slate. And don’t forget your slicker.”
“I won’t.”
She darted a look toward Sam as she exited the room. As if lying in wait, he brushed at the perfect crease along the sleeve of his crisp oxford. “Shame about the rain, Gen,” he said. “It’s not supposed to let up before nightfall.”
“Thanks for the update.”
Hastily Gen grabbed a headset, pulled out a bright yellow slicker from her locker, then strode to her cruiser. Thank goodness she’d already inspected the car when she’d come on shift so she wouldn’t have to do the lengthy once-over in the rain. Finally she radioed that she was leaving the premises and pulled out of the parking lot.
Today’s assignment was yet another taste of life as a small-town cop. Every day involved doing whatever was necessary to maintain peace and tranquility in town and chipping in as a team to do just that. Being a team player was a hard way to go in one respect since she was so used to trying to prove herself and competing for recognition.
But as she parked the car in the main intersection, donned the rain gear and stepped out into the drizzle, she felt the weighty responsibility she’d always carried with pride. Someone needed to do the jobs others didn’t want to. Someone needed to step up and take responsibility.
And though she might complain about getting wet, she’d never been one to dodge duty.
Chapter Five
AS SERGEANT CONRAD had predicted, the traffic was heavy. With practiced ease, Gen motioned cars through the intersection, giving grumblers her best stony glare and nodding her thanks to friendlier drivers. To Gen’s surprise, two high school kids even smiled shyly when she waved them on through.
Despite her concerns about the rain, the slicker had kept Gen relatively dry. She just wished it were summer—the damp chill kept the job from being completely bearable.
After her shift, Gen clocked out and raced home to her rooms on the top floor of a sixty-year-old white clapboard house at the corner of Plymouth and Third Avenue. Consisting of a bedroom, small bath, galley kitchen and comfortable living area, the place had more than enough space for her and Sadie.
The old oak floors and thick rag rugs her landlady had made years ago made Gen smile, and suited her low-maintenance lifestyle to a T. Sadie barked a greeting from her kennel the minute Gen opened the front door.
“Hey, girl,” Gen said as she placed her purse on the kitchen table. “Let’s get you some fresh air.” Sadie whined as Gen clipped on her leash and led her outside.
As expected, the dog balked about doing her business in the rain, but Gen wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was glad she still had her slicker on as the dog combed the perimeter.
“Hi, Gen!” Bonnie Walker, her landlady, shouted from the back porch. “You picking up after that dog?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As Sadie trotted back and forth, smelling every bush in sight, Bonnie called out again. “It’s taking Sadie a while.”
“It always does.”
As Sadie inspected a tree, seeming to forget all about her disdain for rain, Bonnie pointed to Gen’s hair. “You’re getting soaked.”
Her landlady had a flair for the obvious. “Yes, ma’am.”
“When Sadie’s done, come on in and have some cookies. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee, too.”
The hot liquid sounded heavenly, but she was a mess, and Bonnie was a meticulous housekeeper. There was no way Gen wanted to offend her by dripping water on her rugs. “Thanks, but maybe some other time.”
“No, you don’t. You take off your rain gear and join me in the kitchen.”
Even Sadie’s ears looked muddy. “Sadie—”
“She’s just a bit wet. Come on in and I’ll pull out a towel for her.” Bonnie paused. “Truth is, I could sure use some company.”
Gen couldn’t refuse that. “I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Sadie was finished, Gen dutifully led her to Bonnie’s back door, wiped down her paws, then slipped out of her own dripping slicker and shoes. Immediately a curtain of warmth enveloped her.
Though Bonnie was old enough to be her mother, she always made Gen feel comfortable, thanks to her frank way of speaking and easy smiles.
“So tell me how your day directing traffic went,” Bonnie said as she placed two mugs of piping-hot coffee and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies on the table.
“It was about what you’d expect—wet and long.” Realizing even she hadn’t known she was going to be out in the rain until a few hours ago, Gen stared at Bonnie. “How did you know what I was doing today?”
“Two women from church saw you on their way to visit me. They said you did a good job, like a real pro.” Bonnie cackled. “They said you were giving a couple of dads in minivans a good dressing-down when they tried to cut off the other drivers. How’d you learn to do all those hand gestures and such?”
“My ex-partner taught me,” Gen said aloud, recalling Keaton’s advice. “Directing traffic’s no fun in the rain, but it’s not hard. Just takes some getting used to.”
Bonnie nodded sagely. “Like arthritis. My hands certainly aren’t what they used to be.”
Gen glanced at Bonnie’s hand, saw her swollen knuckles and how the fingers were bent at uncomfortable angles. “Ouch.”
“I’m okay. I could take more medicine, but it makes me sleepy.” She pushed the plate closer to Gen. “Have another cookie.”
Gen couldn’t refuse, especially since Bonnie had put out a rawhide chew for Sadie and it was clear her dog wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon. “Thank you.”
Gen stayed with Bonnie a full hour before saying goodbye. Bonnie looked tired and Gen had things to do, not to mention that no amount of rawhide would hold over Sadie at dinnertime.
Once at home, she turned on the stereo and poured a generous amount of Mighty Munchies for Sadie. Although she was now dry, Gen took a hot shower, but not before popping a frozen pizza into the oven for herself.
Finally settled, Gen leaned back on the couch, work crossing her mind once again. Who had damaged Melissa Hudson’s car?
Though she’d spoken to Dean on the phone earlier this morning, Gen had decided to go ahead and meet with Melissa again anyway. While her gut told her the vandal had randomly chosen Melissa’s Civic, experience said it was better to be a little overzealous than remiss, e
specially since she was new to Lane’s End. The townspeople would want to know what had happened so the culprit could be punished.
For an instant she considered talking to Sam, to see how he would recommend handling the case, then rejected that idea. She’d only look weak if she asked for help. And while she might admit her personal faults to her sister, admitting professional ones would never do, especially if she wanted to fit in and be accepted.
* * *
CARY DRUMMED HIS fingers on his binder while Evan droned on about the state of Ohio’s new graduation requirements. Usually Cary enjoyed the opportunity to see his coworkers and interact with other adults for an hour, but today’s topic was beyond boring. It also didn’t help that he could see Kate every time he looked at Evan, reminding Cary once again that he’d been the proverbial fool in love. To avoid catching Kate’s eye, he stared at his binder.
Christy, on the other hand, relieved her boredom by passing notes just like the kids in his class.
Kate’s now seeing Andrew Richards’s dad. What do you think of that?
Cary fought to keep his expression neutral. That was news. Through the grapevine, he’d heard Michael had dropped Kate as soon as he’d accepted Lakota’s offer. Discovering Kate had already moved on was a true surprise. Especially when her new “someone” was as fake as city councilman Clay Richards.
Kate was obviously putting her cool blond charm to good use. How could Cary have been so gullible to think that she’d been in love with him?
Maybe she’ll become a lady of leisure soon, he wrote back. He winked when Christy opened the note and grinned.
“Hudson, you have a question about our topic?”
Busted. “No, Evan,” he said.
“No questions about the new credit requirements?”
“No. I’ve read the information carefully. But I’ll do it again just to make sure I haven’t missed something,” he said, deliberately ignoring Dave’s laugh, which he hadn’t quite hidden behind his cough.
“Good.” Evan stepped from behind the podium. “Before we wrap up, we couldn’t end this staff meeting without acknowledging Brad. As everyone knows, Coach Jackson has done a tremendous job this season. Because tomorrow night’s game is crucial, on Wednesday we’ll be going to our short schedule and hosting a pep rally at one o’clock. Tickets for the game will go on sale at lunch.”
Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 4
