by Geeta Kakade
“Th..thank you. If you put them in the refrigerator for now I’ll figure out what to do with them.”
“There’s a grill outside that works well. I can grill the fish for dinner.” He took out an old baking pan and placed the fish in them in the refrigerator.
Christy looked at him carefully. He was volunteering to make dinner? An olive branch?
“Thanks” she said again
He looked at the ledger in her hand stuffed full of papers from the desk.
“Jake used the computer in there till he got sick,” he said. “Once he got sick everything just got shoved in the desk."
She wasn’t complaining.
“I’ve got the papers sorted out,” she said. “I wanted to know how much I’d need for the bills by the first. Henry had them on autopay but now....”
Christy stopped herself going on by biting her lower lip.
“Do you need another loan?”
She stiffened. He wasn’t one of the moneylenders who got people when they were down and then grabbed their property was he? A shark in poor man’s clothes? “I’m fine thank you. I’ll start repaying you as soon as I get some boarders.”
“There’s no hurry.”
Christy looked at his broad back, opened her mouth closed it. He was an enigma and she wasn’t in the mood for puzzles right now.
“Thanks.” She retreated upstairs to her room. She could finish budgeting up there. Her brain would work better far away from O’Keefe.
On the landing in front of her room she paused. The door to the attic beckoned and she decided to go up there instead. Sitting down at the old desk up there, she opened it.
Her breath caught as she took out the folded piece of paper on top and opened it up carefully.
Her heart started racing. What a find.
It was a family tree done meticulously by hand. The last name, hers, had been written in by Jake. She knew his writing from the ledgers she’d been going through all afternoon.
At the top were the names Agnes and Phillip Cupid. They had come out here, homesteaded the land, and built their house with the gold they had found in the Sierra Nevadas.
She skimmed over the other names, counting as she went. She was their great, great, great, great granddaughter. She hoped she would find photographs of them. If she was lucky there might be a journal.
Help me make a good life here.
Her half wish, half prayer went out silently and then she folded the family tree and put it carefully back in the desk, locked it and pocketed the old key.
It was time to get back to her budget.
“She wants to see what we looked like,” Agnes sounded excited. “She wants to know what we look like. Where are those two old likenesses you had the portrait painter do that summer after we built the house?”
“I have no idea,” said Phillip waking up from his nap in the corner.
“I know they’re here,” said Agnes rooting through the trunks at warp speed. “Unless somebody with no more sense than they were born with got rid of them.”
“Now Ma!” reproved Phillip. “We mustn’t speak ill of the dead!”
That sent his wife into a fit of laughter. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately Pa?” she said her good humor restored. “You aren’t who you think you are.”
CHAPTER SIX
The pile of lumber in the garage gave O’Keefe an idea. There were some big planks and a lot of pieces of different sizes. A tree house would be a perfect place for Frank to call his own. He hadn’t missed the lost look in the boy’s eyes, the sullen way he talked to his mother or her worry when she looked at him. In some mysterious way the boy blamed his mother for his father leaving them.
After a perfect meal of grilled trout and salad, cooked by Moira, he decided to talk with Christy about the tree house.
He hadn’t missed the kindness she treated Moira and her son with.
“Want to go for a walk with me?” he asked.
She looked at him, surprised.
“Yes,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
She hadn’t explored the beach or the water because she hadn’t wanted to run into him and he always seemed to be hanging out by the boatshed, dock or rowboat.
It was cool outside and the October evening was already dark. She got her jacket and locked up as Moira left and the fell into pace beside O’Keefe. He hadn’t said a word as he ate his dinner except to tell Moira the fish was done perfectly and thank her.
Christy looked at the expanse of pure white sand that took one to the water’s edge. Near the shoreline the ebb and flow of the water had left a margin of wet sand that made walking easier but O’Keefe preferred staying on the path right in front of the houses. The gentle breeze was cooling fast after a surprisingly hot October day and she enjoyed the way it felt. They turned to the right and walked past the path on the side of the house and in front of the other houses on the shoreline.
“There are twelve houses here in the cove; eight houses on this side of Cupid Lodge and three on the other.”
“This cove gives these houses a great deal of privacy from the other houses around the lake.”
The arms of the cove were mounded into slight hillocks cutting these twelve houses off from the others on the lakeshore. It made the area quieter.
“Are the neighbors friendly?”
O’Keefe shrugged. “A couple of them are. The other houses are filled with tourists vacationing here or people who come here in winter for the skiing.”
Was she missing the bright lights of Beverly Hills?
They’d reached the third house after the path and they turned and retraced their steps.
“The wood in the garage…do you have plans for it?”
“Not unless we need it to repair something.” She’d noticed the pile and wondered if they needed the lumber or not.
“We fixed the boat shed with it last year and those are the left over pieces. I thought if you didn’t need it I could make a tree house for Frank.”
“You’d do that?” Christy was surprised. She thought O’Keefe only had time for the career of doing nothing he had chosen for himself.
“Yes. Frank isn’t doing too great.”
She’d noticed how quiet and moody the little boy was.
“That is if you’re going to have Moira stay on.”
“I think if today’s any indication of the work she does, she’s perfect for Cupid Lodge and I’m lucky to get her especially as she loves to cook and I only do the minimum in that area.”
“She’s lucky you took her on too. Most people would be afraid to let a complete stranger into their homes. They wouldn’t care enough.”
“There’s something about her that tells me she’s different. She seems educated and well mannered. Did you notice her at dinner?”
He had. Her table manners were flawless and she had known exactly what Christy had meant when she talked about preserving the integrity of the house.
Christy turned to him. They’d reached a hillock that separated them from the other houses and it was time to turn back.
“I’m not most people,” she told O’Keefe, “so don’t be too quick to pass judgment, okay? I’m doing this for Frank as much as for Moira. His whole world’s changed and his life will never be the same again. That’s exactly how I felt when Jake left.”
She started retracing her steps, surprised when she suddenly felt O’Keefe’s hands on her shoulders.
“What the…?”
He hauled her deeper into the shadows. She looked at him to see he was staring ahead past Cupid Lodge.
“What is it?”
She saw three men come out of the house beyond Cupid Lodge and hurry around to the back.
“Come on!” He held her hand and tugged her along as he stayed in the shadows all the way back.
At the gate she turned to him.
“What’s going on?”
O’Keefe had no time for explanations. “Get inside and lock the door behind yo
u. Don’t come out till I call and tell you it’s okay.”
“Why?”
“Don’t argue Christy. Go.”
He pulled her up the path, unlocked the front door with his own key and pushed her inside. He’d locked the house before she could say a word.
Christy didn’t know what to say.
Tuning into his mood she rushed upstairs to her room nervously locking the door behind her. What on earth was wrong with O’Keefe? Was he crazy?
It was only seven o’clock so what was going on outside? Who were those men next door? Suddenly Christy felt more afraid than ever.
Was her caretaker mixed up in something bad? Why had the sight of the three men made him catapult into action? Should she call the police? What would she tell them?
Christy shook her head and walked to the window that overlooked the water. From one angle she could see the front of the house next door. Not turning the light on she stared out, waiting and watching.
Nothing but empty space, no movement, nothing.
Getting tired finally of standing there, she changed and went to bed.
Why had he reacted like that?
O’Keefe was mad or he was mixed up in something dangerous. Unless he had a really good explanation he had to leave. She would get his money from the equity line of credit Henry Brigham had told her she could apply for on the house and pay off his debt.
Anything to get rid of the man.
O’Keefe had a bad night Thursday. He’d stayed up watching the house next door from the front yard . His back was sore as he’d climbed the lower branches of the Norwegian Pine in the front yard and rested against the trunk. The endless cups of coffee he’d drunk from the thermos he’d taken up with him made him feel his eyes would never close again.
At four in the morning Friday, he received a text in answer to his report.
“All’s well. False alarm caused by strangers attempting to deliver a box to the house. It was the wrong address. Good job.” Following the message was a code that told him he could sleep in and then go on duty at eight tonight. He climbed down the tree carefully, stiff with the cold and his awkward position.
Christy opened her iPad as soon as she got up. There was an e-mail from the advertising department of the Lake Herald. Her ad would run for three days; Friday, Sat and Sun.
She had called the newspaper office yesterday afternoon to make sure. The man in the ad department had been young and chatty. Would she like to run the ad for four weeks at their special rate?
She’d declined only because she didn’t have the money.
Her next call had been to the local bank where Henry had told her Jake had an equity line of credit on the house. As he’d put the house in a living trust for her they might extend the equity line of credit to her. Would she like to come in and discuss the details and sign the necessary papers.
That was a real bit of luck…not that she had any intention of taking out any money but it was still a relief to know there was an emergency fund available and it wasn’t named Bank of O’Keefe after her strange moneylender caretaker and handyman.
She hadn’t caught sight or sound of him before she left on her errands Friday morning. Maybe he was out fishing. Moira was planning on doing laundry, and turning out the room O’Keefe had been using in the house. She also planned on starting a crockpot of chili for a hands free dinner.
Moira, Christy knew, was turning out to be a great find.
Christy stopped at the lawyers briefly to let Henry Brigham know her plans, then went to City Hall to check that Jake’s home occupation permit was still intact, and put in an application for a business license. To her surprise it was approved instantly by a woman who told her how much everyone had liked Jacob Cupid and how they all wished her the best of luck.
A stop at the grocery store, another at the library to apply for a card and then she was done. The library gave her a temporary card after looking at her application and told her she could take six books out immediately. Jake Cupid had been a regular at the library, they’d said and they trusted her. Christy enjoyed the morning, glad Silver Lake City was small enough for the people to know each other. There was a much slower pace here than Los Angeles or Beverly Hills and she liked that too.
Walking back to the house, Christy was aware that she’d been welcomed and treated differently the minute people had known she was Jake’s daughter. There was definitely a sense of “we folk who’ve lived here all our lives” and “the visitors”. They’d all liked Jake and had gone out of their way to be nice to her. Christy didn’t quite know what to make of the new picture of Jake she had been presented with. It was so differed from the one her mother had painted of a man who didn’t want to work or take responsibility for his wife and child.
Christy shut the questions out of her mind. She wasn’t going to let Jake Cupid rob her of the present by occupying her thoughts. He’d taken enough of her past.
There was work to do. She was filled with a sense of purpose as she walked back.
The die was cast. She had to get to work and have Cupid Lodge shipshape by the weekend. With any luck she could have a paying guest as early as next week.
Her accounting yesterday had showed she needed two long-term and a constant flow of short term guests to pay her bills. That was a tall order to fill.
Once it snowed, the woman in City Hall had said, she would have plenty of guests. A lot of pro athletes came here to ski Devil’s Run, one of the most well known ski slopes in the area. Christy knew she couldn’t wait till November. She needed guests now.
Moira had finished the laundry and made the beds by the time Christy got back. There was a fish and potato soup simmering on the stove for lunch as well as the aroma of the chili filling the kitchen. Christy made a mental note to pay O’Keefe for the cans of beans that had been used for the dish. She was grateful that Moira had used the head and bones from the fish they’d eaten last night for the stock for lunch. They couldn’t afford to waste anything. She had bought just a few more things at the grocery store like bread and cereal. The owner of the grocery store had said she could pay her bill once a month like Jake had. Christy knew she would have to take her up on that if she didn’t get a paying guest soon. The idea didn’t appeal to her though.
“Toby brought a basket of potatoes and I’ve put them in the pantry,” Moira said as they ate lunch. “He helped me wash down the shelves and the stone floor and I’ve got a fan in there to dry the room out properly. It’s so cold in there it’s a wonderful room for storing food. Toby says he has strings of garlic too drying in the garden shed. He didn’t plant anything else this year as he wasn’t sure what would be happening to Cupid Lodge but the fruit trees yielded well this summer and his sister made some jam and canned the rest of the fruit. He said he’ll bring it all up tomorrow.”
Christy was amazed. Had they guessed the pickings were lean right now and was Toby trying to help? Homemade jam and canned fruit would make a great addition to their menus for the guests.
“I got three books for Frank from the library,” Christy said. "Why don’t you take the afternoon off and spend some time with him?”
“Oh no ma’am, I couldn’t do that. I’m going to start wiping down the cabinets in the kitchen so we can organize the dishes and the food properly. I couldn’t get around to it yesterday. Frank’s busy planning the tree house with O'Keefe now. It’s good to see him excited about something.”
She sounded sad for a minute but then she got to her feet and started clearing the dishes.
“I’m going up to the attic to see if there are any blankets and quilts stored there,” Christy told her. “I’ll come down and help you after that. I would like each guest to have a blanket and a quilt on their beds or in the closet in their rooms.”
“I don’t need any help so you take your time up there,” said Moira.
Christy went up to the attic with a broom and a mop. After she’d wielded both to her satisfaction she settled down in the rocking chair and lo
oked around. She was still surprised about how clean the place was. Jake’s old housekeeper had been a treasure. She must remember to ask O’Keefe where the woman was now.
She got to her feet and went to the largest wooden chest in the corner. Lifting the iron latches she pulled up the lid and propped it against the wall carefully. The next instant she was staring down at a pile of quilts that took her breath away. She lifted them out carefully and sachets of lilacs fell out as she did. The quilts were handmade and beautiful. There were six in all.
Christy couldn’t believe her luck…these would be perfect for the guests. She’d keep one for her own use and give the rest to guests whom she thought might appreciate them.
Carrying the precious quilts downstairs, Christy showed them to Moira who said all they needed was some airing out and they would be perfect. They admired the fine hand stitching of years gone by and Moira named the designs for her. Wedding ring, log cabin, compass, honeycomb, peony and urns, and last of all a crazy quilt that was a bright patchwork of all the finest velvets of years gone by.
Christy was surprised about how much Moira knew about quilts till the latter told her that her grandmother had been a quilt maker.
Over an hour later Christy went to look for O’Keefe. She wanted an explanation about his strange behavior of the night before.
The banging took her to the old tree under which the wood had been moved. Frank was there with a hammer and Christy got her first shy smile from the boy.
“Where’s O’Keefe?” she asked.
Frank pointed with the hammer and going closer to the tree Christy was surprised to see the floor of the tree house already in place.
“O’Keefe, will you please come down? I need to talk to you.”
“You come up,” came the answer followed by some more hammering.
She turned to look at Frank who said, “We've made the steps to go up already.”
There were boards nailed into the tree that provided a safe footing and she guessed if she held on to the one above she could climb up. Christy bit her lip. She wasn’t sure she was a tree climber. Her shoes had the platform heels so popular these days. Another Mother buy, but Christy had left her old sneakers behind in her apartment.
