by Day Leclaire
"Hello, Callie?" a friendly voice greeted. "Suzanne Samuel from the school board here. I'm calling about those cakes you promised for the fundraiser. You were able to get them done, weren't you?"
Guilt-stricken, Callie thought of the slice she'd swiped in the middle of the night. She was making definite inroads on that extra cake. Thank goodness she'd baked it, or Suzanne's fundraiser would be short. "Sure thing. I have them all ready to go. When do you want to pick them up?"
Suzanne gave a tiny laugh. "That's the problem. I'm totally bogged down this morning and hoped you might have a spare moment to drop them off. Can I count on you?"
Callie hesitated, wondering if it would violate Julian's request that she not take on any more projects. No, she decided. This was part and parcel of her fundraiser commitment. "Sure, no problem. What time do you need them?"
"Is noon convenient?"
Callie glanced at the large expanse of floor still waiting to be cleaned and then at the long list on the kitchen table. She sighed. "Noon's fine."
"In that case, do you think you could pick up Mrs. Hankum's pies and Lu Ridgeway's corn muffins? They're right on your way."
In for a penny, Callie thought. "Of course. No problem at all."
The door opened behind her and she turned to see Valerie, with her son, Danny, perched on her hip. Callie waved them in. Valerie dumped the baby into Callie's arms and, after numerous incomprehensible hand signals, disappeared back out the door. A minute later she reappeared, dragging a high chair behind her.
Suzanne continued, "There's one more small matter, as long as I've got you on the line."
"Yes? What is it?"
Valerie retrieved Danny and slipped him into the high chair, handing him some biscuits and his bottle. Planting a quick kiss on the crown of his head, she waved a cheerful farewell to Callie and left.
Danny watched his mother go, his little face puckering into a frown. The instant he realized she wouldn't return, he opened his mouth and let out a furious bellow.
"Callie, are you there?"
"Still here, Suzanne." Callie stuck a finger in her other ear in a futile attempt to muffle the din.
"It's about the exams for school readiness and placement. As our newest kindergarten teacher, you've been assigned to take over the testing of the four- and five-year-olds. You know, to decide if they're more suited to Pre-K or kindergarten. Isn't it exciting?"
"Exciting," Callie repeated, less than excited. What in the world was this all about? She didn't recall ever being told about any testing.
She struggled to balance the cell phone against her shoulder and offered Danny a cookie. Valerie would have a fit, but right now she cared more about not disturbing Julian than worrying about the kid's glucose level. He stopped crying and eyed the cookie. In a flash, his plump little hand darted out to snatch the unexpected treat. He shoved it into his mouth.
Suzanne cleared her throat. "There's only one teeny problem."
"One teeny problem, you say? What's that?" Distracted, she glanced at the baby. He grinned at her toothlessly and lobbed his gummed cookie across the room. It hit the bucket of soapy water with amazing accuracy. Danny shrieked with laughter. Well, better than tears.
"Mrs. Martin, our Special Ed instructor, will be in Europe for the summer. Normally she'd test the new students for her department, but..." Suzanne gave a little laugh. "She can't if she's off gallivanting across the continent. So we thought of you, Callie. You'll be able to do it, won't you? Fill in for Mrs. Martin, I mean?"
This definitely violated Julian's third request. As though in confirmation, her cell phone beeped, warning her battery was dying. Not that she had much choice about the testing, not if she wanted her teaching job come September.
"I guess I can," she agreed uneasily, then groaned, her attention caught by Danny's antics.
Pleased by his success with the cookie, he tried the same thing with the pieces of his biscuit. Next went his bottle. It hit the linoleum and the cap dislodged, milk splattering everywhere. Her clean expanse of floor was rapidly taking on the appearance of a war zone.
"Fantastic. We'll let you know the exact dates sometime soon. Have to run. Don't forget about dropping off those cakes." The line went dead.
Julian's voice came from behind Callie. "What was all that about?" he asked.
She plugged her cell phone into the charger on the kitchen counter and bent to scoop up pieces of biscuit from off the floor. "Nothing important. The school needs some extra help with the placement testing for next year's students."
He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to her feet. "Forget the floor. I can do that. You sit and explain about this testing program." Grabbing half a roll of paper towels, he attacked the soggy remnants of Danny's food barrage. Beneath his diligent attention, the mess grew steadily worse.
"Julian, why don't you let me—"
"No, no. I can handle it," he insisted. "So the school administrators decided you should do this testing? And naturally, you said yes. I thought we had an agreement. No more donating time or money until your present commitments are completed. Remember?"
"I remember. But this is different. This is work. The testing isn't just for them, Julian. It's for all the teachers and it's part of my job."
"Okay. I can accept that." He sat back on his heels and studied the tacky floor with satisfaction. "There. That should do it. What about Danny?" he continued. "I didn't notice him on your list."
She frowned. "That's because he's on the refrigerator. I mean Valerie's request is tacked there. Why are you so concerned with how I spend my time all of a sudden?"
"You're a generous person, Callie. I sometimes think people take advantage of that generosity, to your detriment. The only way you're going to complete your current projects is if you don't take on any more. You also promised to give top priority to finding Maudie's will."
"Don't worry, the kids will help me. They should be along any minute." She grabbed the mop and worked it over the section of floor Julian had "cleaned."
He crossed to her side and took the mop away. "You're missing the point, Callie. If it didn't mean your losing the house, I wouldn't give two hoots about finding Maudie's will. I'm just concerned about you wearing yourself out, trying to accomplish all these self-imposed tasks. I know you're still grieving. But running yourself ragged isn't the best way to handle it."
Callie snatched the mop from his hands and thrust it back into the bucket. "And I think keeping busy is the best way to handle it. What about you? I heard you at your computer last night. You were working into the wee hours on your book. Or is that different somehow?"
He shrugged. "Yes, it is different somehow. I've only taken on what I can handle. Can you say the same?"
"No," she admitted. "But then, I've never been able to claim that."
The back door opened, and Donna and Cory walked in.
"Hi, Mr. Lord... Julian," Donna called out with a sunny grin, her neon hair now sporting green glitter.
Julian's eyebrows shot upward. "Hello," he greeted Donna cautiously before turning back to Callie. "I'll be upstairs in my office, if you need me. Don't consider this discussion ended. Just postponed. I hope you have a productive day."
"You, too," Callie replied. Whether he knew it or not, their discussion was at a definite end. She turned to Cory. "Is your brother coming?"
"Sure is. He's really looking forward to getting his hands on this place. So what's on tap for us? More smash and crash?"
Callie laughed and shook her head. "How about a treasure hunt?" At their exclamations of delight, she explained Julian's plan. "I have no idea where to tell you to look for Maudie's notes. It could be almost anywhere. All I ask is that you try to keep the volume down for Julian's sake."
The two set off in noisy confusion and she shook her head in amusement. "Well, what do you say, young man? Shall we skip the floor and take care of our errands?" She lifted Danny out of his high chair. "Suzanne said noon, and at the rate we're going it'll be at l
east twelve before we get out of here." The doorbell rang and she chuckled. "See what I mean?"
Callie hurried to the front of the house and opened the door to Cory's brother, Ted. She stared at him in dismay. He didn't appear to be any older than her high school helpers, and looked twice as disreputable. His clothes were fashionably ripped and he'd tied his long hair at the nape of his neck with a shoelace. Through a tear in his shirt she could make out a tattooed skull and crossbones.
He stepped over the threshold and looked around, whistling. "What a place. " He skirted her, peering up and down the hallway. "Don't mind me," he said, pushing open the dining room door. "Will ya look at this antique wiring? Old tube-and-knob. Holy shit, s'cuse my French. I can't wait to have a go at it."
Her eyes widened in alarm. "Listen, Ted, Julian wanted me to check with him before we did anything more with the house. I think he's worried about permits and plans and blueprints. That sort of stuff."
"Don't know crap about plans and blueprints, but you tell Julian I know my stuff just fine. Wait till he sees my bill."
"Bill?" she echoed in alarm. That meant money, something in painfully short supply these days. "Cory seemed to think we could reach some sort of agreement."
"Sure we can. You hand over lots of green paper and I fix your wires." He let out a whooping laugh and Danny burst into tears. Ted backed away, eyeing the baby with suspicion. "Listen, I'm going to have to check things out. You don't mind if I wander around, do you?"
"Well I—"
"Great." He headed for the hallway. "I didn't know they still had places like this standing. They've usually burned down long before now."
Callie nibbled on her lip. Maybe she should discuss this with Julian. He'd been rather insistent that she check with him before working on the house. But that would mean interrupting his work. And yesterday on the raft he'd seemed very concerned about getting some time in on his book. Besides, Ted was just going to look around, not work. It wasn't as if he could do any real harm. That decided, she headed for the kitchen.
"Let's get those cakes to Suzanne," she said to Danny. "We'll deal with Ted later."
* * *
Callie returned home in the middle of the afternoon. Delivering the cakes and other goodies had taken far longer than she'd anticipated. Upon her arrival at the Hankum farm, she'd discovered Suzanne had called with instructions to pick up several more donations. By the time she'd finished running around half of Willow and dropping Danny back at Valerie's, she felt a bit frazzled. She walked into the house, aware of excited voices coming from the library.
Donna poked her head out. "Come quick! We've found something."
Callie hurried into the library. The two teens stood with their heads together, studying a small envelope. Even Brutus had joined them, whining and shoving his way in between. Callie looked around the room at the stacks and stacks of books covering the floor.
"What in the world—" she began, only to be interrupted by Cory.
"We pulled everything off the shelves," he said, stating the obvious. "And look what we found." Triumphantly, he held out a small pink envelope.
"That's wonderful, Cory. It looks like another of Maudie's notes." She took the envelope and studied it. Her and Julian's names were scrawled on the front. "Maybe we should wait since it's addressed to both of us." At their groans of disappointment, she relented. "All right, let's see whether it's anything important. I wouldn't want to disturb him for a false alarm."
Unaccountably nervous, Callie broke the seal on the envelope and opened it. Inside she found a slip of pale pink notepaper. She pulled it out and a light floral scent—Maudie's perfume—wafted into the air. Callie blinked rapidly, fighting back a wave of grief, and forced herself to read the note.
Dear Callie and Julian,
Sorry. This note is not about the will. Don't give up, though! If you're reading this, it means I'm gone, so plant a flower in my memory. And when it blooms, remember how much I love you.
Aunt Maudie
By the time she'd finished the message, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Donna took one look and ran for the door, Brutus at her heels. Callie sat on a small love seat and covered her face with her hands. How could Maudie think anyone would ever need a flower to remember her by? She lived in so many hearts, especially Callie's.
Hurried footsteps sounded on the stairs and Julian burst through the door. He spared one incredulous look around, then ordered sternly, "Out. Everyone out."
Once the room cleared, Julian sat beside Callie. Gently he tilted her face toward his and brushed the tears from her cheeks. "What is it, sweetheart?" he murmured. "What's happened?"
Without a word, she offered him Maudie's note. He tucked one arm around her shoulders, before taking the sheet of paper and reading it. "Damn," he muttered. His lips brushed the top of her head. "Don't cry, Callie. It's all right. We'll do it together. How about planting roses? She always loved roses."
She nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yellow Peace roses and pink Doloreses. And those big red ones with the heavy scent. She was crazy about them. We'll fill up the whole yard with roses so we can think about her all the time. We'll—" A small sizzling sound distracted her.
Beside her, Julian stiffened. "What the hell?"
"Ted!" Callie whispered in dismay. "I should have known."
The lights dimmed and went out. "Son of a bitch. I didn't save my file before I came down."
"Your laptop has a battery, doesn't it? So, you won't lose what you wrote today?"
"Yeah, but I'd better go up and save it, just to be on the safe side."
Before Julian could even stand, an incredible surge of power shot through the lines and the light bulbs flared so brightly Callie thought they'd explode.
"You realize this can't be happening," he remarked in a conversational tone. "I'm imagining this. I have to be."
She groaned. "I'm afraid you aren't."
A loud sizzling pop resounded through the house, followed by another flash of light. All around them light bulbs exploded and all the electrical went dead.
"Someone just killed my computer," came Julian's voice out of the darkness. "Fried its little electronic brains out, I'll bet. They hang people for less, don't they?"
Chapter 6
Rule #10:
Mistakes happen.
Usually to those without a plan.
Julian sat behind the desk in his Willow's End office and stared at his computer. It was deader than a three-day-old mackerel. He shoved his papers to one side and grabbed the landline. Not only had he lost his laptop, but because he'd plugged his cell phone in to recharge, that had bit the dust, too. So had Callie's. Within minutes he reached Brad.
"What's wrong, old buddy? You sound frustrated," his partner said, an amused edge in his voice.
"I am frustrated. It's as bad as I warned you. Yesterday's power surge killed everything when that crazy kid decided to play Ben Franklin with the power lines. My computer's completely blown. Over a week's work wiped out."
"I can't believe you didn't have your surge protector with you."
"Well, I didn't," Julian snarled.
"Maybe I should take over the book. I always did have a soft spot for Willow's End."
"Forget it. You'd be a basket case within twenty-four hours. Brutus on his worst day would have you pinned to the mat before you got through the door. And that's with one paw tied behind his back."
"One paw tied... What's gotten into you, Julian? You talk like that animal's a real person or something. If he's a problem, get rid of him."
"Get rid of him? Are you nuts?" Julian pulled himself up short. Was he actually defending the hound from hell? He must be spending too much time around Callie.
"I'm not suggesting anything drastic," Brad said. "Just find another home for him, somewhere in, say, Alaska."
Julian tried to picture Callie's reaction to the news that he'd relocated Brutus to Alaska, and shook his head. No way on God's green earth would he put her through someth
ing like that. The mere thought of anyone intentionally hurting her made him see red.
"Drop dead, Brad," he stated in no uncertain terms.
"Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. But I have to tell you, Julian, I'm worried about you. No surge protector, talking as though that dog is a real person. Sounds to me like you're losing it."
"Losing what?"
"If you have to ask, you're in worse shape than I thought." Brad chuckled. "Losing your grip, old man. Julian Lord, the guy who has corporate execs cowering in terror, the master of rules and regulations, Mister I've-Got-A-System himself, can't seem to organize one puny girl, a crazed electrician, and a mischievous imp dressed in a doggy suit."
Julian held the receiver in a white-knuckled grip. If he could reach through the phone and get his hands around Brad's neck, one of them would die a happy man. And it wouldn't be his partner.
Brad laughed with an irreverent disregard for life and limb. "From what you say, there's an even chance you'll inherit Maudie's place. I really do love Willow's End—the lake, the peace and quiet, that huge old house. Why don't you sell it to me and be done with it, before the old Julian goes down the tubes altogether."
"You need Willow's End about as much as a lobotomy," Julian snarled. "Though come to think of it—"
"Ah, come on, Julian," his partner wheedled. "Promise if you inherit, you'll give me right of first refusal."
"Sure, Brad. Anything you say, Brad. You want the moon on a string? You got it. Just get off my back. Now, what's the status on those seminars for Comptons? I need some updates."
"Well, all right. That sounds more like the old—" Brad's voice came to an abrupt end.
"Brad? Brad? Are you there?" Julian hit the plunger on the old-fashioned phone half a dozen times before he realized the line was dead. Dead as his mackereled laptop. He hung up the receiver, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. It couldn't be. After that catastrophe yesterday, surely not even Callie's so-called electrician would have the nerve to return again today. Not if he knew what was good for him. With determined footsteps, Julian strode from the room.
