Tumbling Blocks Page 7

  “Don’t worry, Friday,” I said, circling his waist with my arm. “Your mom will have a great time.” My words were full of a false bravado that would have been obvious to a six-year-old.

  “I know,” he said, his voice low with tension.

  When the announcement of the train came over the crackly loudspeaker, we walked outside to meet it. I said a quick prayer for two weeks’ worth of patience and waited for the train to roll to a stop.

  I rested my hand on the small of Gabe’s back as he searched the crowd for his mother’s face. Minutes passed, then he saw her.

  “Mom!” he called over the heads of hugging and chattering passengers.

  He weaved his way through the crowd toward her snowy-haired figure, towering over the other passengers. I’d forgotten how tall she was, that her genes were where Gabe inherited his long, lean figure. I followed him and watched him pull his mother into a hug.

  Please, Lord, I prayed, glancing around her, don’t let Daphne be with her. And, please, help her focus on something else besides my inadequacy as a wife.

  Like all my prayers, it was answered, just not in the way I expected.

  Gabe was so intent on hugging his mother that he failed to notice the man standing directly behind Kathryn. The man who wasn’t moving toward some waiting wife or child. Not moving in that way that says, I’m with this person. He was tall, taller than Gabe or Kathryn, both of whom were six feet. His face was tanned the reddish brown of someone who works outdoors, and his cheekbones were gaunt to the point of reminding me of a childhood image of Ichabod Crane. He wore a hat like the kind they did in the forties. What was it called—a fedora? His suit was obviously custom-fitted for his unusually tall frame.

  Though I’ve never claimed to be psychic, it didn’t take a great premonitory talent to sense that something big was about to happen. I forced myself to smile and walked up to Gabe and Kathryn.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Mom,” Gabe was saying, reaching down to pick up the plaid overnight bag at her feet. “I bet you’re starved.”

  The man behind Kathryn took a step closer. In that moment, he caught my eye. They were the bright blue of a California winter sky. He smiled and gave me an amused wink.

  “We are starved,” Kathryn said, smiling at me. “We waited to eat because I was sure Benni had something wonderful planned.”

  “Soup’s on,” I said, glancing at her, then back at the man standing behind her. “And I mean that literally.”

  My husband’s police-trained nature finally kicked in when he heard the word we, and his gaze settled on the man standing behind Kathryn. Had I been the recipient of that look, I would have hopped back onto that idling train and ridden it clear to Canada. This man, obviously comfortable in his own skin, just smiled.

  Gabe looked back at his mother. “We?”

  She smiled at him, not a bit afraid, even though he wore his most suspicious, stern police chief face. Then again, this was the woman who changed his diapers and taught him how to brush his teeth.

  “Gabe, honey, this is Ray. My husband.”

  CHAPTER 4

  OF COURSE, THAT WOULD BE THE MOMENT WHEN MY cell phone started singing “Happy Trails.”

  “That’s me,” I said, fumbling through my purse. I gave his mother and her new husband an apologetic look.

  Gabe just stood there, staring at his mother like she’d suddenly said that, by the way, son, I just robbed Wells Fargo. Could you please hold this bag of money?

  I glanced at my phone’s screen. Constance. Of course it had to be her. Anyone else I’d just ignore and call back. But Constance was as persistent as a toothache. She’d redial and redial until I answered.

  “Excuse me,” I said, looking straight at Kathryn. “I really should answer this. It might be a crisis at the museum.”

  “Oh, dear,” Kathryn said, the face I distinctly remembered as stern and unyielding now soft and sympathetic. “Of course you must. And you probably need your privacy. Gabe and Ray can fetch our luggage, and we’ll meet you at the car.”

  “Uh, okay, thanks,” I said, stepping over to her, not certain whether I should offer her my hand or a hug. The phone sang out again.

  She deftly solved my dilemma by reaching over and patting me on the shoulder. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up after your crisis, Benni.”

  Relieved, I glanced over at Gabe. His face was in its unreadable mode now. Trouble was definitely brewing. I walked over to a quiet corner of the train station and answered my phone. “Hello?”

  “What took you so long?” Constance barked. “I have your interviews all set up for tomorrow afternoon. Your cover is that you’re doing a chapter for the Historical Society’s San Celina history book. The subject is charitable clubs of San Celina. Your first interview is with Bobbie Everette at one p.m.”

  “Tomorrow? But I’m riding in the parade—”

  “That’s over by noon. Plenty of time to meet Bobbie. Then you have Francie. Dot is last. She was the hardest to pin down. That woman’s middle name is busy.”

  Their names sounded even funnier when she listed them, like characters in a Frankie Avalon-Annette Funicello beach blanket movie.

  “Okay,” I said, knowing there was no way I could wiggle out of it. I was tempted to ask her if she’d step up to the plate and help me untack my horses, wipe them down, pick their feet. “But first I have to—”

  She jumped in before I could finish my sentence. “Bobbie said she will meet you downstairs at Blind Harry’s at one p.m. Francie will meet you at Miss Christine’s Tea and Sympathy at two. Dot at the historical museum at three.”

  I inhaled a slow breath, trying not to sound as irritable as I felt. “I absolutely have to be done by five o’clock. My mother-in-law just arrived from Kansas and will be here two weeks. I have to make dinner. I have to spend some time with her.”

  “I hope she won’t interfere with your work too much,” Constance said, her voice sharp and demanding.

  I didn’t answer. I’d found that ignoring her self-centered comments was the most prudent way to react. As much as I was sympathetic to her feelings of loss for Pinky, it annoyed me that she was completely oblivious to the fact that other people had lives.

  “I want a full report as soon as possible,” she said. “Call me at home if you have to.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” It was another thing I’d learned with Constance: to be as vague as possible. “Gotta go.” I hit End, then immediately turned off my cell phone. If she tried to call back, she’d get voice mail. I’d pay for that, but right now I had my own family crisis.

  Walking toward the car, it occurred to me how similar this situation was to how Gabe and I got married. I was fairly certain not even her daughters knew about it because I’d just talked to Becky two days ago, and I knew she’d never be able to keep something like this from me. She’d mentioned that Kathryn had been “seeing” someone, but she hadn’t elaborated. It seemed so inconsequential that I hadn’t even mentioned it to Gabe. When had she gotten married? Had she been keeping it a secret from everyone?

  At the car, I found Gabe and his mother casually discussing Gabe’s city-issued car as Ray silently worked at fitting luggage into the gray four-door sedan’s large trunk.

  “I still have Dad’s truck,” Gabe said to Kathryn. “And the Corvette. Benni drives her little Ford Ranger. But I needed a car for work, so the city is providing this.” He deliberately ignored Ray. What had happened in the few minutes I’d been gone? Had it been resolved? Ha, in my dreams.

  “It’s very nice, son,” she said. “It’ll be good to see your dad’s old truck again. We must go for a ride in it.”

  “Sure,” Gabe said, glancing over at Ray. I could almost see my husband’s thoughts: We’re not bringing him, are we? Again, I was dying to know what took place between the three of them the five minutes I was gone.

  When Ray finally maneuvered all the luggage into the trunk, we drove home with, at my suggestion, Kathryn riding in the front s
eat next to Gabe and me sharing the backseat with Ray.

  “So,” I said, as we settled down for the short ride. “How did you two meet?”

  “We were domino competitors at the senior center,” he said, smiling.

  “Ray’s an engineer,” Kathryn said, her voice proud and a bit strained.

  “Was,” he said amicably.

  “Really? What kind?” I said. “Software? Electrical? Aerospace?”

  “Choo-choo,” he answered, his voice solemn.

  Kathryn gave a high little laugh. “He loves doing that to people.”

  “Wow,” I said. “A real engineer? That is so cool. I mean, you don’t really think about people doing that anymore. I’ve never met an engineer. Isn’t that an interesting profession, Gabe?”

  “Sure.” His voice from the front seat was noncommittal. He didn’t even turn to look when his mom laughed. Remembering how hard it was when my gramma Dove first met my stepgrandpa, Isaac, and how much I mistrusted him, I shut up. Gabe would have to get comfortable with this in his own time, and me trying to smooth the way would likely make it harder.

  I sat back in the leather seat. I was on pins and needles wanting to ask when they tied the knot, but since everyone else was talking around the elephant in the room, I took the cue and also avoided the subject. “So, Ray, have you ever been to California?”

  “Had a route here for a few years, Kansas City to Los Angeles. That’s a beautiful building, L.A.’s Union Station. Haven’t been here in twenty years, though.”

  “Our part of California isn’t quite as crowded, though we are starting to get our share of congestion and big city woes. Gabe could tell you about that. He was an L.A. cop for a long time before he came up here.”

  “So Kathryn told me,” Ray said. He directed a question to the back of Gabe’s head. “Do you ever miss the excitement of the big city, Gabe?”

  “Not really,” Gabe said.

  Kathryn glanced sharply at her son’s cool tone. I could tell she was a little annoyed at him, which made me annoyed with her. What did she expect, surprising Gabe with something this big? And doing it in such a public place?

  Sure, we sort of did the same thing to her, calling her after we got back from Las Vegas and telling her we just got married. And, like she did to Gabe, he also hadn’t told her he was dating me. This smelled suspiciously like payback. I sighed and turned my head to stare out the window. Gabe and I could have really used a fun, easy holiday after what we’d gone through a month ago. Surely his mother would have understood that?

  I turned back to Ray. “How long did you drive a train?”

  “Worked for Union Pacific for thirty-nine years. Miss it every day of my life.”

  “It must be an interesting place to view life. Sitting in the front of a locomotive.”

  “It is at that. I wish I were a painter or a photographer. The sights I have seen were worth recording.”

  “My stepgrandpa is a photographer. I bet he’d envy you that view.”

  “I am a big fan of Isaac Lyons’s work,” he said, rubbing the side of his eagle beak nose. “I’m most eager to meet him.”

  “You will Sunday afternoon. My gramma Dove’s having a barbecue for you two. You’ll meet the whole clan.”

  “I’m so looking forward to seeing Dove again,” Kathryn said, giving me another big smile. I smiled back, sort of liking this new, more easygoing Kathryn, but I was still hesitant. There was this surprise marriage that would be the center of attention for the whole visit, I was sure. How was that going to affect her and Gabe’s relationship?

  At home, Gabe started the soup heating while I showed Kathryn and Ray the downstairs guest room. While we chatted about the plans we had for their visit, I added more towels in the downstairs bathroom.

  “Everything is lovely, Benni,” Kathryn said, gazing around at the room I’d decorated in deep green and navy blue, a Ship at Sea quilt on the queen-sized bed. The furniture, a cherry-colored mission style, was similar to the new furniture in my and Gabe’s room. The custom-made lamps, a housewarming gift from Emory and Elvia, were Tiffany-style glass with a Friendship Star quilt pattern.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Take your time getting settled in. We’ll have dinner in about a half hour, unless you need more time.”

  “That’s perfect,” Kathryn said, sitting down in the rocking chair next to a window overlooking our side yard. I’d planted an array of flowers there last weekend—mums, impatiens, daisies—and put in a hummingbird feeder made from a gourd, one of the big sellers at the folk art museum’s gift shops.

  “The sooner the better for me,” Ray said, standing next to Kathryn, his hands in his pockets, softly jingling his change.

  “Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll see you in the kitchen. It’s where we eat all our meals. We haven’t bought a dining room set yet and mostly use that room as a library. There’re only bookcases in it so far.”

  “Add a comfortable chair, and I’ll not trouble you for two weeks,” Ray said.

  I smiled. “That can be arranged.” Ray certainly would be an easy guest. I started out the door, then stopped, remembering my other guest. “Oh, dear, one more thing. I hope you’re not allergic to dogs, Ray.”

  “Daphne loves him,” Kathryn said. “Ray’s great with animals. Kids too.”

  “Never had any of my own,” Ray said, still jingling his coins softly. “Kids, I mean. Have been owned by a whole array of canines in my life, though I’ve actually sort of been dog-shared with my neighbor, Bob.”

  I cocked my head. “Dog-shared?”

  “Like a racehorse,” he said, smiling, his hands still now. They came out of his pockets to gesture as he talked. “I was gone for long periods of time. One of my next-door neighbors was a widower, like me. He was a cop who also worked odd hours, so we shared dogs. Three of them, all rescues. The dogs had beds, water dishes, food dishes, toy baskets at both houses. We cut an opening in the fence between our yards. The dogs learned to check both back doors, whichever one was open, that was where they spent the night. It gave two old farts something to talk about.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” I said.

  Scout, always the perfect canine, picked that moment to trot into the guest room. He must have seen us arrive home and crossed the street from Beebs and Millee’s house. He came up to me for a quick neck rub.

  “Kathryn said you had a dog. He’s a nice looking Lab.”

  “Yes, Scout is a darling, but I can’t take any credit for that. He was trained before I inherited him. And besides you two, I have another guest these next two weeks. He’s a little doll, but not quite as well-trained as Scout. As a matter of fact, you might have to be careful where you walk, as he is still in the midst of potty training.”

  “You have a puppy?” Kathryn said. Her blue-gray eyes, so like my husband’s, lit up.

  “Only for two weeks. A friend of mine went with his family to Texas for the holidays and left him with me.”

  “What kind is he?” Kathryn asked.

  “Corgi. A Pembroke. That’s the kind with no tail.”

  “They’re great dogs,” Ray said. “So smart. What’s his name?”

  “Boo. Right now he’s across the street at my neighbors’. I’ll go get him before we have dinner.”

  I left them alone to settle in and joined Gabe in the kitchen. He already had the soup heating and the biscuits warming in the oven. There was something to be said for irritation getting a man to work.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out the butter dish. “What happened when I answered Constance’s phone call? Did your mom tell you when she got married? And where? Why?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice stiff. “They made a detour to Las Vegas two days ago. As for why, I couldn’t begin to guess.”

  I was without words for a moment, not certain what I should say. “It’s odd,” I finally commented. “I mean, that they sort of did the same thing we did.”

  “What’s tha
t supposed to mean?” His tone became a little snappish.

  I set the butter dish down on the table. “Whoa, pull back on the reins. I was just saying that we didn’t exactly give anyone the heads-up about our wedding either.”

  He glared at me. “It’s entirely different.”

  How? I wanted to ask, but decided that it would definitely be wiser for me to keep that question to myself, at least for right now. This was obviously something that he and his mother would have to duke out.

  “Okay,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “Let’s just get through the next few hours, and we can talk about it upstairs.”

  He took a deep breath, ran a large brown hand over his face. When he looked at me again, his face was no longer angry, just sad.

  “Oh, Gabe,” I said, going over to him and putting my arms around his waist. “It’ll be all right. I know it’s a shock, but Ray seems like a nice guy.”

  He rested his lips on the top of my head, brushing them back and forth. “We’ll see. But, you’re right, we just need to get through the next few hours.”

  “Good,” I said, hugging his waist. “Now, I have to go across the street and fetch Boo. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

  When I returned carrying Boo, Kathryn and Ray were in the kitchen helping Gabe set the table.

  After the requisite few minutes of puppy fawning, I gave Boo and Scout a biscuit, then put Boo in his downstairs crate and closed the metal door. When Boo started to whimper, I told Scout to stay. Like the perfect dog he was, Scout lay right next to the crate with his nose touching Boo’s nose through the gate.

  “Scout is a miracle dog,” I said, sitting down. “He already has taken his big brother relationship to heart.”

  Dinner was more than slightly uneasy. We avoided the real thing we wanted to talk about and discussed Gabe’s sisters, their kids and the activities we had planned for Christmas here in San Celina. Then we all retired to the living room.

  “Would anyone like coffee or tea?” I asked.

  “No, actually, I’d like to take a walk with my son,” Kathryn said. “If you don’t mind.”