Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  “No, you can’t go. But why don’t you all try to figure out Thomas’s puzzle for me, okay?” She scratched Obiwan’s head and slipped out the front door, leaving him behind.

  Two members of the cleaning crew were hauling large plastic bags down the steps. They smiled at her apologetically. What a horrible job.

  She stopped in to see Jeff in his office, “I’m going to Davey’s to have lunch with the girls.”

  He laughed at her. “The girls? Do you know how that sounds?”

  “I know, I know … a bunch of hens. Is everything going okay? Do you need me?”

  “Nope. It’s all good. Have fun.”

  The door of the classroom across the hall was closed. She could never remember what group was meeting where, but Jeff kept the place busy. She picked up the pace and cut through the kitchen out to her garage.

  The parking lot at Davey’s wasn’t as busy as usual, and Polly assumed most of the lunch crowd was already back to work. She parked by Lydia’s Jeep and looked up when she heard a car roar into the lot. Sylvie pulled up beside her and jumped out.

  “Am I late?” she asked. “I got caught behind this fool of a woman. Fifty-two miles an hour. Are you kidding me with this?”

  Polly snorted with laughter. “I just got here. You aren’t late and besides, is there a schedule I don’t know about?”

  Sylvie pulled her bag out of the back seat. “I guess not, but I wanted to scream. There is never any traffic on this road and the day I get behind someone who won’t even go the speed limit, there are tractors and pickups and … well, everyone coming at us.”

  “Maybe you need a drink,” Polly said.

  “I’d love one, but I have a meeting at three and I don’t think this bride’s mother would appreciate a drunken chef.”

  Polly took Sylvie’s arm. “How was Jason this morning?”

  “He was fine. Not terribly happy with having to go to school, but I didn’t give him any option. He knows that if he fakes being sick, he can’t work in the barn. That’s been a wonderful motivator. I don’t know what he’ll do when he’s really sick.”

  She looked up at Polly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when either of them are sick. I hadn’t thought about that. They’re always so healthy. Now that I’m out of town, how will I take care of them?”

  “Stop it,” Polly scolded. “They’ll come over and hang out on my couch with the animals. I can feed them fluids and keep them warm. You never have to worry about that.”

  Sylvie squeezed Polly’s arm, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Who needs a husband when I have a friend like you?”

  “Exactly,” Polly agreed. “Who needs one of those?” She realized that she missed hanging out with these women. They gave her all sorts of confidence. Sylvie raised two boys on her own. Beryl had kicked one husband out, buried another and loved being single. Andy was dating someone after spending several years alone. She’d loved her husband and then loved being single. It gave her time to do all the things she enjoyed doing.

  Lydia was the only one of them who was still happily married and now that her kids were mostly gone, she and Aaron had a good life together. He didn’t get in the way of the wild things she enjoyed doing and when she needed him, he was there. For that matter, Lydia took care of him when he needed her, too. They had figured out how to be independent and together all at the same time. Polly wasn’t sure how they’d worked it out, but assumed it had something to do with many years of trial and error.

  Beryl was waving madly from a table in the dining room. She was nearly out of her seat when Polly saw her and waved back.

  “We’re with them,” she said to the hostess, who smiled and nodded and allowed them to find their own way to the table.

  “It’s about time,” Beryl said. “I thought you were going to be late.”

  “We’re not late,” Polly said, “And besides, that late stuff nearly made Sylvie have a heart attack on the way back here. Am I right?” She poked Sylvie, who laughed as she sat down by Andy.

  “No, it was the slowpoke that nearly made me have a keel over. I’m not sure why I was so worried about getting here on time, but she had me all worked up.”

  “What’s the special today?” Polly asked.

  Andy responded. “It’s a steak and pepper salad. It sounds really good. That’s what I’m having.”

  “Gotta watch your weight, eh?” Beryl asked, flicking a bag of crackers at her friend.

  “Exactly,” Andy said. “I don’t want to start looking like you.”

  “Hey there,” Beryl laughed. “You could only pray for a figure like this.” Beryl was stick thin. She was one of those women who had made it through her fifties and into her sixties without ever worrying about her weight.

  “I hate you,” Andy said. “You’re the bane of my existence.”

  “You’d have a boring existence without me, old lady,” Beryl snapped. She turned to Polly, “Guess what we did yesterday?”

  “I have no idea,” Polly looked at Lydia, who shrugged.

  “We went to Ames.”

  “Okay?” Polly pressed.

  “We went to Ames because Andy had to take flowers to her daughter’s apartment for the winter. Apparently, Amy is really good with these things. But then, guess what else we did?”

  “Ummm, you went to a strip club?” Polly asked.

  “That would have been better.” Beryl turned to Andy. “Why don’t you ever think of interesting things like that for us to do.”

  Andy rolled her eyes and waved her right hand for Beryl to get on with it.

  “We went to the Iowa State theater department to check out their costumes for your ball. I think we’re on it. We’ll be beautiful! But Andy didn’t like the corset.”

  “They’re horrible!” Andy said.

  “I kind of like it,” Polly laughed. “I feel all put together.”

  “You wouldn’t want to stay in it very long. Especially when you’re my age,” Andy complained.

  “Then guess what we did after that?” Beryl pushed forward.

  “I have no idea. You picked up men at the local fire station?”

  Beryl threw her hands up in the air and said, “Andy, we are never leaving town without her. She has the best ideas for fun.”

  They laughed.

  “What did you do, Beryl?” Polly asked.

  “We went to Village Inn,” Beryl’s voice dropped along with her shoulders. “Village Inn of all places. And then guess what this woman did?”

  “Oh, shut up, you.” Andy said.

  “She ordered from the senior citizens menu. For pete’s sake, the senior citizens menu. Can you believe it? I was so embarrassed.”

  They all laughed except Andy, who blushed profusely. “I didn’t want that much to eat and I’d just made a fool of myself trying on dresses that are too young for me.”

  Lydia grimaced. “You are not that old. Victorian era dresses are made for women of all ages. Get over yourself. Right now.”

  But Andy continued to protest. “And what’s wrong with the senior citizens menu? I might as well take advantage of it.”

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” Beryl said. “Once you give in to it, you can never go back. I absolutely refuse to acknowledge the fact that I’m not 42 years old any longer. And as long as my brain thinks that I am, the rest of me intends to go along with it.”

  Lydia looked at the two of them, shook her head and asked Polly, “Do you have your costume for the ball?”

  “Yes I do,” Polly said. “I also have a different costume for Halloween. I’m going to have fun.”

  “What about you, dear?” Lydia asked Sylvie.

  “I’m going to be in the kitchen. I’m not wearing a costume.”

  “We can’t allow that to happen, can we, Polly?” Lydia asked.

  “You know, we could put together some kitchen help costumes,” Polly said. “Something like those British television shows with the cooks and maids? What do you think, Sylvi
e?”

  “But I can’t wear a mask if I’m in the kitchen.”

  “That doesn’t matter. We can make this work. Will you do it? And what about Hannah and Rachel?”

  “I have a few other kids working that evening too. You’re right, it would be fun for all of us to be in costume.”

  “I’m so glad,” Lydia clapped her hands together. She turned back to Polly. “Aaron told me what a mess the middle bedroom was in. Do you need me to help you with that?”

  “There was a crew cleaning in there when I left. I thought I’d check it out when they were finished. We need to replace the mattress and rug, but that will be easy. That beautiful desk was smashed, though.”

  “We can order another one. I have copies of the invoices. Would you like me to go back with you this afternoon so we can get started?”

  Lydia had become Polly’s personal decorator. She had beautiful taste and wouldn’t accept a thing for her time. Someday Polly would find a way to say thank you to her for all she had done.

  “That sounds wonderful. Are you dragging these bratty kids back with you, though?” Polly asked, pointing at Beryl and Andy.

  “Andy can take Beryl home,” Lydia laughed. “Right?”

  Andy smiled and nodded and Beryl flared her nostrils. “I can always walk if no one wants to take me.”

  “We all want you,” Lydia reached out and patted her hand. “But plans change and you can be flexible.”

  “Whatever.”

  The waitress came back and took their orders. Polly looked around the table at four of her closest friends. They poked at each other, laughed at each other and in the end took care of each other no matter what. She wasn’t sure how she’d been so fortunate, but she was glad they were here together.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Eventually they ended up back at Sycamore House. Sylvie headed for the kitchen and Lydia followed Polly up to her apartment.

  When she’d emptied the storage unit in Story City last summer, everything had come to Polly’s garage. A matching pair of tables that her dad had made for her old room was now on either side of her bed and she’d added two standing lamps to the living room. A wing chair and ottoman that had been her father’s favorite place to sit were tucked into a corner by the bookcases with a side table holding a lamp and a stack of books, making it one of her favorite spots in the room.

  She stopped Lydia and said, “Would you look at my furniture downstairs and tell me if there is a better way to arrange things, and maybe use some different pieces? You have such a wonderful eye for it all.”

  “I like what you did with the chair in the corner,” Lydia said. “That’s cozy.” She hugged Polly. “I’d love to see what you have and make it work in your space here. You have no idea what it means to me that you trust me to do this.”

  Polly huffed, “If I didn’t have you, I’d have to hire someone who didn’t care nearly as much. I know what looks good when I see it, but I have no idea how to get from the initial pieces to the finished room. I can recognize gorgeous furniture, but I’d just plop it down in the most convenient place and be done with it.”

  “That’s what I do, too,” Lydia laughed. “I just take a little more time to figure out if convenient and beautiful work together. Will you show me the room across the hall now?”

  The mattress and all of the bedding was gone. The room had been scrubbed clean and smelled like disinfectant. Clothing was piled neatly into a box and personal items stacked on top of it. Polly bent over and picked up a framed picture. It a very old picture of Thomas with a young woman standing in front of the ocean. She set it back down in the box. He’d shown it to Polly the night he told her about the girl who stole his heart and whose loss he mourned every day.

  She sighed.

  “Are you okay?” Lydia asked.

  “He had no one to love him,” Polly said. “He had friends and acquaintances and fans and toadies, but he didn’t have someone who just loved him because he was Thomas.” She thought for a moment. “You know, that’s what all of his stories were about. His protagonists were always looking for something, trying to find a connection to the world.”

  “In his murder mysteries?” Lydia asked.

  “Yes. His main characters were searching for something more. His most famous character, Eddie Powers, was a former cop. He had seen his wife get murdered and it destroyed him. What was her name …” Polly mused.

  “Wasn’t it Annie something?

  “That’s right? How do you know that?”

  “I’ve been following the casting for the movie. I should probably read the books. It’s more interesting now than it was a week ago, that’s for sure.”

  “Eddie and Annie. Edgar and Annabel. Why didn’t I see that before?” Polly asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Thomas was an Edgar Allan Poe fan. He taught classes on him and identified with the author more than I realized.”

  “Do you think this relates to the puzzle you’ve been handed?”

  “Yes I do, but I’m just not sure what to do with it yet. And every time I get a brilliant thought, something distracts me.”

  “Maybe you can get to it tonight.”

  “I have to go to Des Moines for therapy dog training. I don’t want to miss that. There isn’t another testing session until next spring and I can’t wait to get involved at the library with Obiwan.”

  Lydia was snapping pictures with her phone and pulled a small notepad out of her purse. “Do you mind if I play with the color in here again?” she asked.

  “Not at all. I’ll order the mattress so it will be here next week. Sal is coming in to surprise Mark and I want her to be able to stay here. My couch isn’t all that comfortable.” Polly smirked. “And besides, if Henry insists on sleeping on it, there won’t be room.”

  “Henry’s sleeping on your couch?”

  “He stayed last night after the windows were broken. I have a feeling he’ll be back tonight.”

  “You two are so cute together,” Lydia took another picture.

  “Cute. Yep. That’s what I like to hear.” Polly pushed the box out into the hallway and nudged it with her feet to her apartment. She and Natalie needed to decide what to do with Thomas’s things.

  They went back into her apartment, “Would you like something to drink?” she asked Lydia.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? I have pumpkin bars?” Polly teased.

  Her friend’s eyes lit up. “Homemade?”

  “Of course! And they’re fabulous. This recipe is so moist.”

  “Then yes, I’d like one and maybe some tea or coffee.”

  They sat down at the dining room table and Lydia took a bite, then moaned. “That is good. I’d like the recipe please.”

  “It’s easy,” Polly said. “I’ll email it to you.”

  “So, dear, do you have any idea who might be vandalizing Sycamore House?”

  “I don’t. It’s someone who knows both me and Henry because the emails call me pretty girl and that’s what he calls me.”

  “Where would they hear that?”

  Polly laughed out loud. “Anywhere. He is always saying that to me. He says it when we’re out to eat, when we’re in the apartment, when we’re anywhere. Last week he yelled it down the street at me when we were leaving the diner.”

  “Who was around?” Lydia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Polly said. “Everyone in town could have been around. I certainly wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Think back, Polly. Shut your eyes and think about the street. Who was walking in and out of the shops? Bellingwood isn’t that big. There aren’t that many people at any given time.”

  Polly obeyed and tried to picture Henry walking toward his truck. Who else was there? She rested her head in her hands, her thumbs at her cheekbones, her little fingers braced against her forehead. She looked at the scene again. An older gentleman left the hardware store and stopped to talk to Henry for a mome
nt while she got into her truck. A woman she didn’t recognize went into the grocery store and an older couple went into the bank. Mark Ogden’s brother-in-law was sweeping the sidewalk in front of his pizza place and an old car backed out of a space.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Lydia. “That kind of worked, but it didn’t do me any good. I don’t know the people I saw and I didn’t see that many people.”

  “When you’re ready, you’ll figure it out.”

  “Lydia, I hate to ask, but … “Polly was hesitant to begin this query. It wasn’t fair of her to put her friend on the spot.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Has Aaron said anything to you about Thomas’s murder? Does he have any leads at all?”

  Lydia smiled at her. “He hasn’t talked much about it. I know he’s frustrated. They’re waiting for some evidence to be processed and they’ve gone through the man’s laptop and the disk you gave him. Nothing yet, though.”

  “I shouldn’t have even asked you.”

  “Don’t worry. It has to be frustrating to be on the outside of an investigation when you got caught up in the middle of the murder.” Lydia patted Polly’s forearm. “I’ll tell Aaron you are asking, though. You shouldn’t be left out in the cold.”

  “Thanks. I could call him myself, but I hate the sound of his voice when he realizes it’s me on the other end of the call.”

  Lydia burst out laughing. “He doesn’t trust you! He told me after the last call that he’s worried the census bureau will check our population every year, just in case you continue to lower it.”

  “Lydia!” Polly cried.

  “It’s a joke, dear. Someday you will see the humor in all of this.”

  “I hate it. Nobody should have this reputation.”

  “You really don’t believe that’s your reputation, do you?”

  “I see the way people look at me and whisper when I’m in the restaurant or the grocery store.”

  “Only when something happens. You didn’t see any of that behavior two weeks ago, did you?”