Rotten to the Core (27 page)

“Seth Chapin?”

“Yes. He’s my next-door neighbor, and my plumber, and he’s going to be moving his office into my annex shortly, and . . .”

Andrea laughed. “That’s Seth, all right. So you’re
that
Meg.”

Meg wondered which stories Andrea had heard about her, and from whom. “How do you know Seth?”

“We met when he and the other selectmen organized a one-day public rabies clinic in Granford a couple of years ago. But he’s been trying to convince me to set up shop in that new development you all are building.”

“You work alone here?”

“No, it’s a partnership, and I’m junior, so I get a lot of the boring or messy stuff, lousy hours, that kind of thing. But no way could I afford to start off solo until I pay off my vet school bills. Seth’s idea is that we can establish a satellite office in Granford now, and after I’ve pulled in enough clients in a year or two, I can take it over on my own. I’m still thinking about it. You like living in Granford?”

“I’ve only been there a few months, but I like the people, and I’m trying to make a go of it with an orchard. I’ll give it a couple of years, I guess. Seems like it would be a nice place to work, assuming there are enough pets to keep you busy.”

“Oh, I handle my share of farm animals, too.”

“Then remind me to ask you about my goats.”

Andrea cocked her head. “You don’t look like a goat type to me.”

Meg smiled. “Another one of Seth’s bright ideas. Someone was getting rid of them, and he thought they’d be a nice addition to my farm. I know next to nothing about goats.”

“Don’t worry, I can give you some literature. Why don’t we take a look at your cat first?” Andrea leaned over in her chair and snapped her fingers near the floor. Lolly came running immediately and began rubbing against Andrea’s chair leg.

“I guess she’s calmed down,” Meg said. “What now?”

Andrea picked Lolly up and cuddled her against her chest, carrying her to the steel-topped exam table, murmuring soothingly. She set the cat on the table, keeping one hand on Lolly’s back, and Meg could almost see the cat shrug and accept the inevitable.

“So you have no history at all on her, I assume,” Andrea asked as she ran her hands over the cat. “Hang on a sec and let me check something.” She picked up the phone on the wall, punched a button, then said, “Vivian, can you pull a record for Pendergast in Granford? They had a cat, came in last year sometime. Yes, now, please.” She hung up and turned to Meg. “That woman is going to drive me nuts. We’d replace her, but I don’t think we’ll find anybody else for what we pay. Okay, for the cat, if we were starting from scratch, you’d need FHV1, FCV, FPV, and rabies.”

“Uh, if you say so. Could you translate that into English?”

“In simple terms, that’s feline herpes, feline calicivi rus, feline panleukopenia, and the rabies you should know—that’s the core group. There are some others, like feline leukemia, feline immunodeficiency, but those are optional. The good news is, I can tell she’s already been spayed. But she did pick up some fleas.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Can you get that, Meg? I’ll hang on to the cat.”

Meg opened the door, and Vivian shoved a folder at her through the crack. “Here. You about done in there?”

“Just a few more minutes, Vivian,” Andrea said. When the door closed, she sighed. “That woman . . . Here, I’ll trade you. I’ll take the file, and you can keep Lavinia—Lolly calm.”

Meg approached Lolly cautiously, not sure of her welcome. The cat looked balefully at her, then decided not to protest when Meg stroked her back.

“Great, I thought so,” Andrea said. “Seth was right: she’s the Pendergasts’ cat, and she was current on her vaccines as of six months ago. Wonder why they left her behind? Or maybe she really didn’t want to go and jumped ship. Did you, lady?” Andrea scratched under Lolly’s chin, and the cat closed her eyes in bliss. “So we don’t have to do any more to you today, right, girl?” Andrea looked at Meg. “You want to know what the Pendergasts called her?”

“I suppose. I don’t have to change her name back, do I?”

“Kitty. Original, right? You should be fine with Lolly. Or Lavinia—Emily’s sister, right? The cat lover?”

Meg smiled. “You got it, except that Lavinia seems kind of formal, so mostly it’s Lolly. So we’re good?”

“We are. You can take her home. I’ll give you a monthly treatment for the fleas—it’s going to get worse when the weather warms up. You keeping her inside?”

“So far. Is that all right?”

“If you want to keep her around, I’d recommend it. It’s a mean world out there if you’re a house cat. She was lucky to find you. You want me to swing by sometime and take a look at the goats, maybe next week?”

“Sure, if it’s not too far out of your way. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to cart them over here.”

“I’ll walk you out. You owe me for a basic checkup, but no vaccines. And I’ll give you a sample of the flea meds. You might want to get a cat carrier before the next visit.”

“It’s already on my list.” Meg laughed.

Lolly was quiet on the trip home, to Meg’s relief. Back at the house, Meg lugged the box to the front door and struggled with her keys. As soon as she opened the flaps, Lavinia jumped out and disappeared up the stairs. Having a pet was a whole new experience, and Meg didn’t know what to expect. Still, she wasn’t surprised when Lolly later reappeared at the sound of a cat-food tin popping open, and by evening, as Meg sat reading in her parlor, Lolly relented enough to sit on her lap, although she remained stingy with her purr.

Wednesday morning Meg finished applying the last coat of polyurethane to the kitchen floor and stepped back through the kitchen doorway to admire her work. She thought that for an amateur, she’d done a pretty good job. No sanding gouges, no bubbles or clots of sawdust. Maybe she’d finally gotten something right the first time around. Reluctantly she shut the door behind her. The floor needed time to dry, one last time. Maybe by tomorrow morning she could tiptoe across it in stockinged feet, but she couldn’t move the table back in, or install appliances, until three days had passed, or so said the online experts she had consulted, and she didn’t want to risk messing up what she had worked so hard to accomplish.

Thinking of appliances, Meg realized she needed to call Seth for advice. Her apartments had always come fully equipped, and she had given them little thought, except when they stopped working. Seth had promised to help out, and much as she wanted to do this on her own, he was, after all, a plumber, and he had far more expertise than she did in choosing appliances—which wouldn’t be hard, since she had no experience at all. So even though she knew how busy he was, and even though this would put her even more deeply in debt to him, she didn’t see any way around it. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Meg. What’s up?”

“You have a moment to talk? I need to ask you about appliances.”

“Oh, right—well, this afternoon’s clear. Want to go shopping?”

Meg laughed. “Seth, I never thought I’d hear that coming from a guy, but at least it involves machinery. Sure, let’s say one o’clock.”

Seth arrived promptly at the front door at one. “Do I get a preview of the floor?” he asked as he came in.

“Sure. Just look, don’t touch.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have done this a few times, you know.”

“I know, but I haven’t, and I’m playing by the rules.” Meg led the way to the kitchen and flung back the door. “Voilà!”

Seth studied the floor for a moment. “Looks great. Nice and even. You done good, lady. So, you ready for appliances?”

“Stove and refrigerator, I guess. I think a dishwasher’s going to have to wait. And let’s keep them simple. Or maybe I mean cheap. This is another one of those ‘extra’ items in my budget.”

“Are you seriously short of money? Because—”

“Stop right there. I have to be careful with my money, that’s all. I can’t go running around throwing money at things I don’t need.”

“Don’t worry—I can get you a good deal. And if it makes you feel better about replacing it, that stove of yours probably wasn’t safe.”

“Gee, thanks—just what I wanted to hear.” Meg followed him out to his van and clambered into the high seat. She waited until they were on the road before asking, “Anything new about Jason’s death?”

“Wish I could say yes. I talked to Art yesterday, but he hasn’t got anything more than he told you. No big surprise there.”

“You know, almost nobody seems to have liked Jason much, and everyone I’ve talked to seems relieved that he’s out of the way. Isn’t that a terrible way to go?”

“ ‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,’ ” Seth said, his eyes on the road.

“John Donne, isn’t it?” When Seth nodded, Meg went on. “I guess that about describes it. Only this is smaller than all mankind—it’s one closed community, in a way. The university, the farmers, the towns.”

“I won’t tell you that you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Jason may have been a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to die.”

Choking in his own vomit, alone in a field in the dark.
Or maybe he hadn’t been alone; maybe there had been a witness. Meg suppressed a shudder. “Amen to that. So let’s talk about more cheerful things. What do I need to look for in a stove?”

“For a start, do you want gas or electric?”

“I don’t know. What are the pros and cons?”

“Depends on how you like to cook. But if you go for gas, we’ll have to run a line to the house. You’ve got an oil furnace. You do know that, right?”

“I guess. I figured it wasn’t coal.” When Seth cast a bemused glance her way, she said, “Joke. I know I’ve been paying someone or other for oil deliveries, although I can’t say I’ve seen anyone come by.” Meg thought a moment. “I assume it would cost me more money if I had to install a gas line?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then let’s go with electric.”

Meg had expected Seth to lead her to a major store at a local mall, but instead he followed a two-lane country road for a few miles and pulled into the parking lot in front of what looked like a dilapidated warehouse. A peeling sign identified it as Anderson’s Appliances. The parking lot was all but empty. “We are buying new, aren’t we? This place looks like it hasn’t done business in years.”

“Trust me. Bob’s a good guy, and I throw a lot of business his way. And he owns the building, so it keeps his overhead low. Come on.”

Seth led Meg into a dim and somewhat dusty warehouse where appliances in varying shades of white, black, and stainless steel marched off into the distance. Bob said hello and then had the good sense to leave them alone, and an hour later they emerged from the drafty depths of the building with what Seth assured Meg was an excellent deal on a midprice stove and refrigerator. Meg’s checkbook was seriously depleted, again, but she thought she was getting good value. Bob had guaranteed delivery on Saturday, and Seth had promised to come by on Sunday to move them into the kitchen—the extra day would give the finish on her floor a little more time to cure. Meg felt that at least she had made progress.

“Lolly’s certainly been taking all this upheaval well,” Meg said as she watched the fields roll by, the newly turned earth now showing hints of green. “How come you don’t have a pet, Seth?”

“I did—a Golden Lab. Lost him a couple of years ago, and I just haven’t met the right replacement yet.”

“I thought you seemed like a dog person. Although I’m not sure I see myself as a cat person. You know, one of those crazy old ladies who lives alone and talks to her cat. Lolly and I are still getting used to each other, and all the noise and smells from this floor project haven’t made that any easier.”

“I thought she seemed remarkably well adjusted, all things considered. Cats are adaptable.”

They drove on for a bit, and then Meg asked, “What’s going into Granford Grange?”

“We haven’t firmed up a lot yet. We’re hoping for some sort of café, maybe a card shop. Or a gift shop. Or a bookstore. Or some combination of the above.”

Meg laughed. “Yeah, sounds really organized. But you’re not going after the major chains?”

“No. Too expensive, and the town’s not really big enough for them. And that’s fine with us. I’d like to see it keep a local feel. Maybe that’s old-fashioned, but I like to know the people I’m dealing with.”

“Hear, hear.”

Seth pulled up to her house, and Meg hopped down from the van. Before she closed the door a thought struck her. “You think you’ll have everything up and running Sunday morning?” she asked.

He smiled. “Since all that’s involved is wrestling the appliances into place and plugging them in, I think so. And before you ask, yes, you do have the correct electric lines. I checked.”

“Thank goodness you looked. I totally forgot. But what I was thinking was, maybe I could have a dinner party, sort of a christening for the new floor and appliances? There hasn’t been a whole lot to celebrate lately.”