Success! I pulled out the heavy first aid box, fl ipped the top, and felt the air whoosh from my lungs.
The box wasn't filled with Band-Aids or gauze at all. Instead there was a stash of valuables. Gold, silver, rubies, sapphires. Right on top of the pile was my watch. Next to it lay Minnie's diamond ring.
I sat down on the floor, replayed seeing Mac at Lowther House. He'd grabbed my hand while trying to kiss my cheek. He could have gotten my watch then.
A voice called out from the front room. "Nina?"
It was Bobby. Sudden happiness at hearing his voice vanished at the thought of bringing this to his attention.
I jumped up, spilling jewels across the floor. "Just a sec."
What to do? What to do?
Jeez.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door. "Could I see you a minute?"
"In the bathroom?"
My smile quivered. "Privacy?"
"My room—" He pointed across the hall.
I tugged him inside, closed the door. "Look!"
He looked down, noticed he was stepping on a gold chain, and pressed himself against the wall.
"My watch," I said, holding it up. "Minnie's ring too!"
"Your hand!" He grabbed hold of it. "What happened?"
"Just a little cut. I was looking for a Band-Aid and found Mac's cache."
He rubbed his hand down his face. "I didn't know he was still doing this."
"Still?"
"Long story."
"Do you know that Pippi thinks one of my employees stole this ring?" My eyes widened. "Oh my gosh! Did Mac go to Lowther House just to rob the place? And used my name to get in?" Oh, Lord. How was I going to explain this to Pippi?
"I don't know," Bobby said. "Seems so. Are you going to the police?"
I put my watch and Minnie's ring in my pocket, stuffed the jewels back into the first aid box, and shoved it into his chest. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
Pulling open the door, I came face-to-face with Mac. He took one look at me, at Bobby, and at the first aid box, and said, "Oops."
"I'm going to go," I said. In the living room, I shrugged on my coat, grabbed my purse. I checked it before I left. "Mac?"
Mac strode across the room, pulled my wallet from the cushion of the couch, handed it over.
Bobby hung his head.
Then I noticed something else. "You're not limping," I said to Mac.
"Oh, that. I, uh . . . "
Bobby's mouth dropped open. "Mac?"
"It was never hurt, was it?" I accused.
Like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he shuffled his feet. "No."
"Why?" was all Bobby said.
"Missed you," Mac murmured.
Okay, it would have been kind of sweet, if he weren't a lying klepto.
"I'm going. You two can sort this out."
"I'll call," Bobby said.
I nodded and left.
Ana found me sitting in the dark.
Thankfully, Kit, Riley, and BeBe hadn't been home when I'd gotten back. They'd left a note—something about shopping.
Ana flipped on the floor lamp, looked at me and tsked. "This looks familiar."
"Don't start."
She was referring to my month-long pity party, where I'd spent long hours sitting in the dark with only a tube of cookie dough to keep me company.
I didn't even have cookie dough today. And I really wished I hadn't left my cupcakes at the office.
Flopping down next to me, she picked up my hand.
I pulled it away, crossed my arms.
"You're snippy, and you haven't been answering your phone, and I've been worried."
My lip trembled. A tear fell.
"Oh no!" Ana cried. "Stop! Stop!"
I sniffled. "I can't help it. Look at me! I'm a mess."
"You're not a mess. You look beautiful."
"You're delusional."
"What's going on, Nina? You haven't been yourself lately at all."
"My life is horrible."
"No it's not!"
"It is! I'm just a mess. I've been on a self-discovery quest that's thrown me for a loop. I don't know what I want. I love Bobby, I really do. Heart, soul, and all that goopy stuff. I can finally admit that, and that I want him in my life. But tonight I find out I barely know him. I don't know anything about his family, his upbringing. And Kevin! I mean, how can I still care so much? Why don't I hate him? That's messed up, right? We're divorced, for crying out loud. He cheated on me with Ginger Ho. I mean Barlow. I need to stop calling her a ho. That's wrong of me, right?"
"Whoa!" Ana jumped up, pulled me to my feet.
I gasped. "What are you doing?"
"That's it!" She grabbed my down vest, shoved it at me.
"What?"
"Your self-discovery has come to an end. It's done. Your journey is over."
"What? Why?"
"You've clearly lost your mind."
I barely had time to grab my purse before she hauled me out the front door, pushed me into the front seat of her car. "Where are we going?"
"Detox." She stepped on the gas, reversed out of my driveway and zigzagged onto the road. "The day you tell me that Ginger Barlow is not a ho is the day I put you into an asylum. What else?"
"What else what?"
"What other crazy things have you been telling yourself? Better yet, what have you done?"
"I've been dieting."
Ana's mouth dropped open.
"That's right. No cookie dough." I didn't tell her how many cream puffs I'd had, about the cupcakes, or the doughnuts. I was a lousy dieter—no doubt about that.
She stepped on the gas pedal. The car shot forward. I didn't even buckle my seat belt. That was something the old Nina would do. I kind of missed the old Nina.
"Come on, Nina. What else? I know there's more."
"I gave up Dr Pepper."
"What!"
"I've been drinking coffee."
"Shit. This is worse than I thought."
"There's more."
"Spill."
"I've been jogging."
Ana's long hair swayed as she shook her head. "Can this get any worse?"
"It can." I pulled a CD out of my brand new purse, held it up.
Ana gasped. "Is that a purse?"
"Like it?"
"No! Where's your leather backpack?"
"My mother took it away."
"Okay . . . " She took a deep breath. "Give me that thing." She pulled the purse out of my hands, let go of the steering wheel and dumped all my stuff onto her lap. She powered down the window and tossed the purse into the night. "What's the CD?"
"Wynonna Judd."
"Hand it over."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"I kind of like it."
She made the sign of the cross. "Fine. We'll work on this a little at a time."
She lurched into a parking spot in the Kroger lot.
"Kroger?" I said.
"Don't ask questions."
Inside the store, she tugged me along like I was a temperamental two-year-old. She flung items into the cart, starting with a roll of cookie dough and a case of Dr Pepper.
"Put something in," she said to me.
"I—"
"Do it."
I marched over to the ice cream case, reached in and pulled out three pints of Graeters's Coconut Chip.
I looked at Ana, who smiled. My lip trembled again.
"Stop!" she said, pulling me into a hug.
"Thank you, Ana."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for. Come on, let's go pick out some Clairol."
I grabbed hold of the cart. "Actually . . . "
She drew in a deep breath. "Yes?"
"I, um, kind of really like the hair."
She slumped in relief. "I'm so glad you said that! Me too! It looks so good."
"Then why . . . ?"
"Desperate times, Nina. However, it seems like you're on the right track now. You just need to find
a balance. Mix this new stuff with the old. Don't replace it altogether."
She was right.
"But, Nina, we've got to do something about those nails. You're just not a manicure kind of girl."
I'd been feeling the same way. "I know just the thing." I speed-walked the cart to the floral section of the store. Grinning, I stuck my hands into the soil of a potted ivy, wiggled my fingers in the dirt.
It felt good to be back.
Twenty-One
By the time I got home, Kit was there, his Hummer parked in front of my house.
Ana kissed my cheek. "I'll call later and check on you. Right now I've got a date."
"With Carson?"
"Nope, Johan."
"No! Not Dr. Feelgood. I thought you were over him. He's so needy, clingy, and—"
"I was kidding." She laughed. "Just testing to see if you're really back to your old self. You are. I'm meeting Carson at his apartment. He said he has big news to share with me. Think he's going to propose?"
"No."
"Me either, but how cool would it be if he did?"
"You haven't even known him for a week."
"Sometimes," she sniffed, "you just know."
"Yeah, know that you're going to break his heart."
"Hey!" Then she smiled. "That technician at the M.E.'s office is kind of cute. And I bet he has tons of stories about dead bodies."
"You need help," I said, grabbing my bags and pushing open the door.
"Probably."
I wrestled with the Dr Pepper carton. "There's no 'probably' about it."
"How's Kit?" she asked.
"Heartbroken. Not that he's said so. You can just tell."
"Give him a hug for me," Ana said, shifting into reverse.
I closed my door, waved as she drove off. I turned to walk into the house just as Flash and Miss Sue descended on me.
"Did you hear?" Flash said.
"What?"
He pointed across the street. There was now a SOLD sticker slapped over the top of the words FOR SALE.
My heart sunk. "Anyone know who bought it?"
"Nope," Miss Sue said. "I asked the Realtor, but she wouldn't say. Quite rude of her."
"Quite," Flash added.
"Well, as soon as you know, would you please tell me?" Hopefully it wouldn't be Brickhouse. Please, let it not be Brickhouse.
The sound of a power saw split the quiet night. I tipped my head. "Was that coming from my house?"
"Someone's been working in there all day," Miss Sue supplied.
"Really?" I hadn't noticed anything different inside. Of course, I'd been sitting in the dark, moping.
"Mr. Weatherbee has already called to complain about the noise."
I checked my watch now that I had it back. It was creeping up on eleven. "I'll see what I can do to quiet things down."
The pair ambled off. I balanced my Kroger bags, Dr Pepper carton, and pushed open my front door. Almost immediately BeBe nearly pushed me back outside.
I dropped my haul and managed to keep my balance.
"What took you so long?" Riley asked. "She's been
waiting by the door since Ana pulled in the driveway."
"I—" BeBe's tongue swished my face like those hanging rags at a car wash.
Riley made a face. "Gross."
Kit whistled and BeBe sat.
I needed to learn how to do that, but couldn't whistle to save my life. I used my sleeve to dry my face.
"What do you think?" Riley asked, motioning upward.
Kit drilled a screw into the drywall above his head.
"Oh! There's no hole!" I even clapped—Maria would have been so proud.
Riley beamed with pride. "The upstairs is completely fixed too."
"You've been busy on your day off," I said to Kit.
Sure enough, a whole slew of tools were lined up against the back wall of the house, near the stairs. I don't know how I could have missed them before—I must've been really out of it.
"Riley helped as soon as he got home from school. Kid can wield a mean wrench."
I flopped BeBe's ears to and fro. She looked up at me with happy brown eyes. It was nice to feel so loved. "Kit, you didn't have to . . . "
"If I'm going to be staying here for a while, then you need your bedroom back."
I felt such a rush of emotion, I ran over and threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "I completely forgive you for siccing Duke on me."
"Notice you didn't huff or puff once running over here."
"Yeah, but my muscles ached."
BeBe jumped in on the love fest, prancing, slurping, and drooling. Riley laughed until there were tears in his eyes. I pulled him into the fold.
BeBe licked his face from chin to forehead. "Yuck!"
I laughed. It felt good.
Finally, I pulled away. Riley helped me bring the grocer
ies into the kitchen. "Are you two just about done for the night?" I asked. "There's been some complaints about the noise."
Riley put the ice cream in the freezer. The fact that there were three pints of it didn't faze him in the least. "Mr. Weatherbee?"
"Of course," I said.
"We're done for the night." Kit wandered in, sat at the island. "Some mud, tape, and a little paint, and your ceiling will be as good as new."
"I owe you," I said to him.
He shook his head. "You've got that turned the wrong way 'round."
Riley said, "Should I keep this out?" He held the cookie dough.
I looked at the two of them. "Want to split it?"
Both nodded.
I cut the tube into three chunks. I peeled back the wrapper and bit in.
Riley broke off a hunk with his finger, stuck it in his cheek like a squirrel would store an acorn. "Before I forget," he said, "Grandma Cel called, Maria called, and Bobby just called about ten minutes ago. Dad called too. Said he's going out of town for a while, which probably means he's going deep undercover and just doesn't want me to worry about him."
I choked on a chocolate chip. Sometimes I forgot how perceptive Riley was.
He pounded my back. "I thought so."
Kit grinned.
"You didn't hear it from me," I said.
"Do you know what he's doing?" Riley pushed another wad of cookie dough into his mouth.
I shook my head. "He didn't say."
"Because I thought maybe it had something to do with the increased mob presence downtown?"
"You're good," I said. "But I really don't know. He wouldn't say."
"Damn."
"Language!"
He gave me a look like I was a crazy woman. "Damn's not bad."
I sighed, looked to Kit. He said, "I know you're not looking for my opinion on 'damn.' "
Riley said, "See?"
"Just don't say it around Grandma Cel."
"Jeez, give me some credit." He finished off his cookie dough and said, "I'm gonna shower, then go to bed."
"I'll get my stuff from your room," Kit said.
Riley paused on the stairs. "No rush."
BeBe looked between Riley and Kit and followed Riley.
"Loyalty is hard to come by these days," Kit mumbled.
What did that mean? I wondered. Had Daisy been disloyal? "Do you want to talk about it yet?" I asked him.
"Not yet."
"Ana says to give you a hug."
"Tell her thanks."
"All right. Well, I'm going to make a few calls, head to bed. You need anything?"
"Nope."
"And my room really is safe?"