04 - Shock and Awesome (18 page)

 
   
A sharp rap sounded against the Ferrari's driver-side window and I looked up sheepishly.

 
   
"Hello, dear," said the older lady, shouting a little even though the vehicle's windows weren't all that thick. She made a motion for me to roll down the window. I switched on the electrics and rolled it down. "Hello," she said again.

 
   
"Um, hi."

 
   
She leaned forwards a fraction and peered at me. "Do you have back trouble?"

 
   
"Um, no." I shuffled upright.

 
   
"Do you like my house?"

 
   
I held my hands up. "I swear I am not casing your house."

 
   
"I didn't for a minute think you were. That is, you come once a week and just sit here. My husband and I often look forward to seeing you. This is nice. Did you sell your VW?"

 
   
Huh? "Oh? No, it's at home. I borrowed this one for work."

 
   
"It's for sale you know. The house."

 
   
"I, uh, see."

 
   
"Why don't you come in and look around?"

 
   
"Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to. Can I? Please?" Step inside my dream house? Add to the fantasy... build myself up for a massive disappointment... oh, what the heck. I took a deep breath, ready to decline. Instead, I said, "Yes, please, I'd love to look around your home."

 
   
The lady smiled. "Figured you would." I smiled up at her. I couldn't help it. She was so nice and I so wanted to look inside. Besides, she didn't look strong enough to murder me unless she really caught me off guard. All the same... "I'll just text my best friend and let her know I'll be home a little later."

 
   
"Come in when you're ready. I'll leave the door open. I'm Anthea Schubert." The lady shuffled off. My ninja-fast texting skills ensured I bounded along the path like an over-excited Labrador thirty seconds later. I may have even slobbered a little in my eagerness to catch up with her.

 
   
As I stepped onto the porch, a high-pitched whine pierced the air and the old lady winced with a heavy sigh. The whine cut out and I poked my left ear. Just as I was sure my hearing wasn't permanently damaged, the whine started up again, this time the sound of a dog barking joined it. The lady took a deep breath, her eyes flitting to the neighbor's property and back to me. She smiled and beckoned me in. I took one last look at her hands for weapons — paranoia was better than dead — and decided I was sure there was nothing concealed in her slacks and blouse. Then I did what my mother always told me never to do: I went into a stranger's house. At least, no one had to bribe me with candy. I'm not sure what that said about me.

 
   
The bungalow was everything I hoped it would be. Light, airy, not too large and not too small. Polished hardwood floors gleaming under the diffused light provided by carefully placed lamps. The furniture was a little dated for my taste, but I wasn't interested in that. All I could imagine was coming home and stepping over the threshold into the neat, little living room. I saw myself cooking, well, microwaving, in the penny-tiled kitchen and eating at the breakfast bar, perched on a tall stool. My bedroom furniture, what little there was, would be perfect in the rear bedroom and there was a guest room too. The bathroom was new and freshly scrubbed until it sparkled.

 
   
Mrs. Schubert chatted as we walked around, telling me about the two daughters she raised here, how she and her husband were moving to be near their elder girl who had young children. She asked where I lived and about my family, finding our last name familiar, which wasn't all that surprising, given how many Graves were planted in Montgomery, alive and dead. In a couple more generations, we'll probably take over.

 
   
"Your home is beautiful," I breathed, checking out the original crown molding.

 
   
Mrs. Schubert smiled. "Thank you. For sale, too," she reminded me, as if that thought could possibly escape me.

 
   
"I want to live here," I told her, practically tripping over my own tongue in my urgency to get the words out. "I want to buy your house and make it my home."

 
   
"I thought you might. We turned down an offer just yesterday, you know."

 
   
My heart skipped a beat. "Oh?"

 
   
"Only because the man wanted to tear the house down and build some monstrosity on the plot. Said this," she waved her arm around the cozy living room, "was old fashioned."

 
   
"I think it's perfect."

 
   
"Why don't I give you the flyer we printed and let you think about it some more? Come for tea tomorrow, if you like. I could show you the garden when it's light."

 
   
"I'll still want it tomorrow." I waited while Mrs. Schubert pulled a flyer from a writing desk in the corner of the living room and handed it to me. Without looking at it, I folded it in two and tucked it into my purse. I really didn't need my bubble bursting by seeing the price. There would be plenty of time to freak out over that later. I mean, I'd already made an offer. Sort of. It wasn’t accepted. And I hadn't thought it through. Much less, knew if I had the money, or even how much it cost.

 
   
What the hell. Some decisions just worked out right and you didn't have to bust a gut thinking about how to make them work.

 
   
Mrs. Schubert escorted me to the door "Then come to tea and we'll talk."

 
   
"I will. Thanks for showing me around."

 
   
"It was about time, don't you think?" Mrs. Schubert paused to wink before she closed the door.

 
   
I stood on the porch for a moment, breathing in the soft evening air, admiring the quiet, tree-lined street and the neat rows of homes from my new vantage point. Yes, this was exactly where I wanted to be. So what if I would be living alone? Lily wasn’t far away. I was only a few minutes further away from family. It was time for a change anyway.

 
   
I practically danced to my borrowed car. As I fired up the engine, a howl sounded from somewhere nearby, followed by manic barking; but it was nothing compared to the singing inside my head. I found my new home. Before I took off, I slipped the flyer from my purse and unfolded it. The price stood out boldly even in the small print.

 
   
"Holy
crapola
!" I took a deep breath and stuffed the page back into my purse. "Someone's got to buy you," I told the house. "Why not me?"

 
   
I should have gone home and celebrated, maybe opened a bottle of wine. Wasn't that the right thing to do after you put in an offer on your dream home? But when I thought about it, the right thing to do was leave the Ferrari in the agency's parking garage, take my VW, and go back to the apartment that seemed less and less like a home, pull on my ducky pajamas and hyperventilate about how to get a mortgage.

 
   
Chapter Ten

 
   
Lily knocked on my door in the morning. Fortunately, I'd already completed the basics of human hygiene so she didn't have to see my teeth
unbrushed
and a serious case of bed-head. Even so, she wrinkled her nose at my duck pajamas as she stumbled in, her arms clutching a pile of collapsed cardboard boxes.

 
   
"What's all that for?" I asked as she edged past me, the boxes exploding out of her arms into a heap on the floor upon entering my living room.

 
   
"For packing. Duh! I came by to see if you wanted them last night, but you weren't home yet. Work? Or did it end up as... pleasure?" Lily gave me a hopeful look. And a really big wink.

 
   
"Work, but fun work. Then I accidentally bought a house."

 
   
"Oh!" Lily blinked, then shrugged. "You know it's easier to return shoes, right?"

 
   
"I didn't actually buy it. I just said I wanted to buy it."

 
   
"That's great. I'm glad you found somewhere. I was worried. You definitely need these boxes now."

 
   
"You don't have to worry about me." I poked her stomach. "You have enough to worry about. You have a family to take care of now."

 
   
"You're my family,
Lexi
." Lily nudged me and smiled and I poked her stomach again. How the baby would manage to expand her gym-hard six-pack was a mystery.

 
   
"Officially," I told her. "I totally forgive my brother for having sex with you."

 
   
"You wouldn't if I told you what he suggested last night."

 
   
"Please don't ever tell me. Our friendship has to evolve to less telling any more secrets now. I think it's safer that way." I really didn't want to have a heart attack. Well, that is, it sounded like a great way to go if I were the one getting over excited, but I didn't want the last words I heard to be the kinky stuff my best friend and brother got up to.

 
   
"Who am I going to tell this stuff to now?"

 
   
"A therapist?"

 
   
"There isn't enough money in all the world to pay for that."

 
   
"Plus, the therapist would probably sue you for therapy."

 
   
"
Jord
better get that promotion. My bar better take off."

 
   
"How's that going?"

 
   
"Good. Really good. We'll open in a month. I want everything to be up and running long before the baby gets here.
Jord
finds out about his exams in two weeks."

 
   
"Do you know what you're going to do when the baby comes? Will you take maternity leave?"

 
   
"Yep. I'm going to be all over this baby, but Ruby is going to manage the bar in the evening, and I'll work days. I won't be behind the bar much, but I'll run it behind the scenes."

 
   
"You sure about hiring Ruby?" Our friend Ruby
Kalouza
was somewhat a Jill-of-all-trades. I first met her on a case when she worked in an adults-only club that had a definite "less is more" dress policy. Lily was working the door of the club at the same time and, as it turned out, they knew each other for
awhile
. I bumped into Ruby on a regular basis and she was a good source of information, at times. She didn't mind helping out because she thought my job was cool. Sometimes it was, so I didn't burst her bubble by telling her about the times I surveyed someone so long, I thought I'd never make it to the bathroom in time, or when a lead went bad. I figured sticking with the cool angle made her more willing to help me. That, and the cash I slipped her when I could.