“I’m glad you like it. It’s my new recipe for lavender shortbread cookies. I’ll be mixing up the dry ingredients and packaging it. I must say, though, adding another product seems a bit daunting at the moment.”
“You could sell millions of these.” I took a sip of my drink to wash the bite of cookie down. The lemonade was good too, and I said so.
“Thank you. It’s three bags of peach tea with lemon, sugar, and water.”
She sat down with us and sipped at her drink. “Before you go, remind me to package up some cookies for you to take home. I’d like your family’s opinion, Jessie.”
“They’ll love them.”
“Would you girls like a tour of the house when we’ve finished our snack?”
“I would.” I probably sounded a little too eager.
“That would be cool.” Max didn’t sound all that excited. She had that worried look on her face again.
Amelia must have noticed. “Is everything all right, Max?”
“I guess. I was just wondering how much money you’d get from the state if I came to live with you.”
Amelia sat up straighter and seemed surprised. I didn’t blame her. Sometimes Max talked before she thought. “Why, I don’t know. Isn’t that funny? I suppose I should have asked, but to be honest, the subject of money didn’t come up. Now that I think about it, I suppose they do offer some money for your expenses.”
Max nodded and seemed pleased with her answer.
Amelia tipped her head slightly. “I hope you weren’t thinking I wanted you for the money.”
“I guess I was,” Max admitted. “Some foster parents are just in it for the money and the work they can get out of the kids.”
Amelia smiled. “Did you know that I contacted Child Services, Max? I asked specifically about you.”
“You did? But how did you even know?”
She laughed. “Mrs. Cavanaugh was telling me about your living with the Millers. I talked to your mother too, Jessie. I’ve thought before about being a foster parent, but never got around to it. I said to myself, Amelia, you are not getting any younger. And it looks as though this young lady could use a home.’ So, I called CPS.”
Max has a home, I wanted to say, but didn’t. I wondered if Ivy’s mother had talked about Max because she didn’t want Max living next door to them. Did she see Max as a troublemaker? Why else would she mention Max to Mrs. Truesdale? Had my own mother complained?
Max finished off her peach lemonade and snagged another cookie. “I’ve made up my mind.” She looked at me and then at Amelia. “If you still want me to live with you, I will.”
Amelia smiled. “I do indeed, Max.”
I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. No, Max, I wanted to say. It’s too soon. But I kept my mouth shut. Amelia Truesdale was a very nice lady, and living on a farm would be a great experience for Max. I almost wished I could stay with her and wondered how Amelia would feel about my visiting sometimes. Like every day.
“You’re awfully quiet, Jessie,” Amelia said. “Am I right in thinking you don’t want Max to be so far away?”
“I want Max to be happy,” I said. And I did. I was being selfish in wanting her to live at my house.
“Don’t worry, dear. You’re welcome to come as often as you like.”
I pasted a pretend smile on my face. I probably should have felt better, but I didn’t. I had a feeling Max would find too many fun things to do here. After a while, she’d forget about me.
When I finished my drink, Amelia gave us a tour of the house. It was as pretty inside as out. My mom gets Victoria Magazine, and I thought Amelia’s house looked just like some of the pictures I’d seen in it. It looked like springtime, with pastel colors and flowers.
Downstairs, Amelia showed us the living room, then the craft room. There were a lot of dried bunches of lavender hanging from hooks in the ceiling, a sewing machine, cabinets, and a bunch of material. The place smelled like a florist shop. “In case you haven’t already figured it out, this is where I do all my crafts.”
Max and I wandered around the room as she showed us the lavender sachets, wands, and soaps. From there she led us back into the living room and started up the staircase, her hand on the carved wooden banister.
Some of the boards squeaked when we stepped on them. Amelia said, “This old house has a lot of creaks and groans. You’ll get used to them.”
She opened double doors into the master bedroom. “Come on in.” We followed her inside. The room had a rounded area with a cushioned chair and a chaise longue. There was an end table and a basket full of books and magazines, and another basket of knitting. “This is the turret room,” she explained, “and my bedroom.”
“Cool.” Max turned around in a circle.
“You must read a lot,” I said, seeing the wall of built-in bookshelves.
“When I can. You girls are welcome to read any of my books. I have quite a collection.”
“Your room sure is big,” Max said.
“This used to be a four-bedroom house, but I had it redone a few years ago because the rooms were so small. Now I have two large rooms up here plus two bathrooms. My bathroom is in here. It’s the only one with a tub, but you’re welcome to use it whenever you want.”
“Showers are fine with me,” Max said. “Do you ever get tired of purple?”
Amelia laughed. “Never. I’ve always loved shades of lavender from the palest to the darkest.” We followed her out of the room and down the hall to the next door on the opposite side of the house.
“So this would be my room?” Max asked when Amelia opened the door to let us in. The hallway floor creaked three times as we walked inside.
“It would. I hope you like it. I recently had it painted and put in new furnishings.”
The room was almost as big as Amelia’s, but it was done all in white with bright-colored cushions and accents. I recognized one of the pictures on the wall as one my mother had painted.
“Wow,” Max exclaimed. “It even has a bathroom.”
“Actually, that bath has two entries. You can get to it from the hall too.”
My legs were getting tired, and I sat down on the bright yellow chair in the corner of the room.
“You okay, Jess?” Max asked. Turning to Mrs. Truesdale, she said, “Jessie just got out of the hospital today. I probably should take her back home.”
“I’m not tired.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying not to sound like a cranky little kid. I didn’t appreciate when Max got parental on me. “But we probably should go. If my dad doesn’t see our boat on the lake he’ll probably call out the search-and-rescue team.”
Amelia nodded. “Well, you can’t blame him for being concerned considering all you’ve been through.”
“I guess.” I smiled even though I didn’t feel like it. I wasn’t sure if her considering meant because I was sick or because of my error in judgment, which was what my father called it, when I took the boat out on the water by myself and got lost.
“When would you like to move in, Max?” Amelia asked.
Max shrugged. “Tomorrow?”
No! I couldn’t believe Max was moving so soon. She’d told me she wanted my opinion, but she hadn’t even asked me what I thought. And what about Amelia’s son? Shouldn’t we find out what’s going on first? I tried to project my thoughts to Max, but she seemed to have forgotten I was in the room. I felt Max slipping away, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.
“Tomorrow would be wonderful,” Amelia said. But can you get packed that quickly?”
Max chuckled. “It’s not like I have a ton of stuff.”
She hesitated. “Well then. We’ll need to check with your caseworker to be sure, but it should be okay. Tomorrow it is. I’ll pick you up around ten.”
I felt numb and cold and insignificant, and I wished Max had just come alone. Well, not really. I liked Amelia Truesdale, and I liked her house and her tea and her cookies. We went back downstai
rs where Amelia packaged up some cookies. Max snatched another one from the nearly empty plate. Amelia offered me one, but my stomach hurt too much.
“Be safe, girls.” Amelia waved at us from the doorway. “I’ll call your parents, Jessie, and let them know you’re on your way.”
“Thanks, Mrs. T.” Max seemed to be in a good mood, which made me feel even worse. I wanted to be happy for her. I really did, but I feared I might be losing her as a friend. Maybe not today, but soon.
Mom was putting away her gardening supplies when we rowed up to the dock. “Hey, you two. You should have told me you were going to Amelia’s place. I have a book she loaned me that I need to return.”
“We didn’t know.” Max helped me out of the boat while she told Mom about the goat that had butted Amelia into the big pile of lavender. Even though I was still upset with Max, I had to laugh at the way she told it.
“I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.” Mom eyed the bag I had in my hand. “Are those the cookies? You didn’t eat them all, did you?”
“No, but they sure are good,” Max answered for me again. I felt like telling her my body might be tired, but my mouth was still working. I didn’t say anything though. Since this was going to be her last night here, I didn’t want to get her mad at me. In fact, on the ride back to the house, I’d pretty much decided that my bad mood was on account of my being tired and trying to do too much too soon. Maybe my worries about Max moving in with Amelia were on account of that.
Mom took the cookies and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “You look exhausted, sweetheart.” She opened the package and smelled it.
“I’m fine.” I sounded more grouchy than I meant to.
“Why don’t you nap while Max and I get dinner ready?” She bit into a cookie. “Hmm, these are heavenly.”
“That’s what we thought,” Max said. “Mrs. T is thinking about packaging the mix and selling them in the tea shop.”
“Oh, I think these will go over big. I can see them selling all over the country.”
Max laughed. “That would be a lot of cookies.”
Mom took another bite. “I wonder if Amelia has thought about expanding her business. I can see a huge market for everything she makes. I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
We helped Mom carry her supplies up to the house. I set the paint box on the deck and went inside for my quilt and pillow. I closed my eyes while Max told Mom she’d be moving tomorrow.
Amelia didn’t show up the next morning at ten. By eleven, we were getting worried. She hadn’t answered her phone either. “Maybe she changed her mind.” Max went back to look out the front window.
“I doubt it,” I said. “You just saw her yesterday, and she was really happy about your coming.” I still didn’t want Max to go, but I felt much better about it this morning. Max and I had a long talk, and she was all excited about the things we could do on the farm. All of her ideas included me, so I figured my worries about losing her as a friend had mostly been my imagination.
“Maybe we should drive out there,” my mother suggested.
By now Max was pacing and looking worried. “Do you think something could have happened to her?”
“Let’s hope not.” Mom grabbed her keys from the hook on the wall.
After calling our neighbors and asking if Sam could stay for a while with the twins, Mom tossed me the keys and I hurried out to unlock the van and then got into the backseat. Max put her suitcases in the back and climbed into the backseat beside me. Mom was out the door and into the car before I got my seat belt on. “Okay, we’re set. Carly said she’d watch Sam.”
About halfway to the farm we saw Amelia’s pickup sitting alongside the road with a flat tire. A tire jack and a spare tire were propped up next to the flat. “Looks like she tried to change the tire.” Mom pulled up behind the truck and got out. Amelia was nowhere around. Getting back into the van, Mom said, “There are several possibilities. She may have gotten a ride into town.”
“Wouldn’t we have seen her?” I asked.
“Not necessarily.”
“She could have walked back to the farm,” Max suggested. “Maybe we should keep driving.”
“Good call, Max.” Mom eased back onto the road. “Her place is about two miles from here. I hope nothing has happened to her.”
We found Amelia and Molly just as they were turning into the long driveway. Mom stopped and leaned out the window. “Hello. Looks like you had some trouble back there.”
Amelia took off her wide-brimmed hat and wiped her brow with the hanky that she pulled out of her pants pocket. Her damp grey hair was matted and sticking to her head where the hatband had been. She had on a white blouse and khaki shorts. Her long tan legs looked like they belonged to someone my mother’s age.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “Today is one of those rare times I wish I had a cell phone so I could have called you. My son has been after me to get one for several years now. Maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“They are nice—especially if you have an emergency,” Mom agreed. “Well, hop in, and we’ll give you a ride to the house.”
She climbed into the front seat. “I suppose I should have waited for someone to come along,” Amelia said, “but I’m not very good at sitting around. Especially on a day like today. Gets mighty hot in that pickup.” She set her hat on her legs. “Ah, this air conditioning feels wonderful.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Max said.
“Thank you. I feel terrible about keeping you waiting. This shouldn’t have happened. The tires are fairly new, so I can’t imagine why one of them would go flat. And those lug nuts were impossible to get off.”
“Maybe you ran over a nail or something,” I said.
“I suppose that’s possible. I’ll call Randy at the service station. He’ll drive out and fix it for me. Perhaps you can give me a ride back to the pickup—after we have some iced tea.” She glanced back at us and smiled. “I made some more of those cookies this morning.”
The moment we got inside, Amelia headed for the phone to call Randy, who not only agreed to change the tire, but said he’d bring a friend and would drive the pickup back to the farm.
“Is this all you have?” Mrs. Truesdale asked when Max brought in her two suitcases.
“There’s a box of stuff at the Miller place. We can get that later.”
“Why don’t you girls go upstairs and start unpacking while I make some lunch?”
Mom protested. “Amelia, let me make lunch. You should be resting after that hike.”
Amelia laughed and said, “My goodness, that was only two miles. I walk more than that just working the farm every day.”
“Well, at least let me help you.” Mom followed Amelia into the kitchen while I followed Max up the stairs. Max is pretty strong, but it still took a lot of oomph to drag her suitcases up the stairs. She opened the bags, then looked in the closet and the chest of drawers. “There’s way more room in here than I need. Maybe you could keep some clothes here so you wouldn’t have to pack a bag every time.”
“Sure.” I liked the idea. It would almost be like sharing a room.
She set a worn-out, scruffy bear on the bedside stand and slid a book with a cloth cover and binding into the drawer.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“My journal.”
“You keep a journal? Like a diary?”
Max shrugged. “Sometimes I write in it. Heidi gave it to me. She said writing down my feelings could help me think things through.”
“Does it help?” I had a journal, too, that I’d never show anyone—ever.
“I don’t know. I haven’t written in it that much. I started to, but haven’t had all that much time. Maybe I will now.”
Max had seemed quiet even before Amelia ended up being late. Maybe she was having second thoughts. “Are you glad you came here?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Don’t know. Mrs. T is a lot tougher than I thought she would be.” She smiled. “Can you
believe her walking two miles? My aunt complained if she had to walk out to the mailbox.”
“I like Amelia,” I said, thinking that she and Max might be a good match after all.
“Me too.” Max took an armful of clothes to the closet and dumped them on the floor, then started putting them on hangers. They were all wrinkled, as Max hadn’t taken time to fold any of them before putting them in the suitcase. I tended to be neat and tidy with almost everything. I offered to fold the clothes for her, but she said my way was too slow. I ignored her and hung up a shirt. It and two others on the pile must have been the ones Mom bought. So far I hadn’t seen Max wear them, and I wondered why. Maybe because they were like the kind of tops I’d seen some of the girls at school wearing. There was a skirt and a pair of jeans on the pile too. “Did you go shopping with my mom?”
She eyed the knit top and nodded. “They make me feel weird—like I’m conforming. Don’t tell her though.”
“She’ll know if you don’t ever wear them.”
“Did you hear what Mrs. T said about her tires?” Max asked, changing the subject.
“You mean that they were new?” I took down a hanger and grabbed up a pair of wrinkled cargo pants. After hanging them up, I smoothed some of the wrinkles out with my hands.
“Yeah. What if someone punctured it?”
I frowned. “Who would do that?”
“Vandals, maybe.” Max frowned. “I’m not saying it happened. I’m just thinking that with all the trouble she’s been having, this might be part of a plan to make things hard for her.”
“And if things get too hard, she might be forced to sell.”
“Right.”
I suggested that when we had some time, maybe later that night, we could list what we knew had happened so far. Maybe we were worrying over nothing, but I had a feeling Mrs. Truesdale might be in more trouble than we first thought.
We had most of the clothes put away by the time Mom called us down for lunch. They had made sandwiches and had set a bowl of chips on the table with a big pitcher of tea.
Lunch was going great until we heard a knock on the door and a man barged in without waiting for anyone to answer. Molly came up behind him, wagging her tail as if she was waiting for him to pet her. The man had brown hair that was gray at the temples. He peered at us through his round black-framed glasses. With dark slacks and a dress shirt and tie, he looked like a businessman. His eyes were blue—just a shade darker than Amelia’s. The reason I noticed was because they were staring straight at me.
Max & Me Mysteries Set Page 12
