Читать книгу The Family Solution - Bobby Hutchinson - Страница 9

WHEN SHE DROVE up to her house an hour later, a battered old blue Ford pickup was parked at the curb and a red wheelbarrow was positioned beside Charlie Fredricks, who was already digging, turning over clods of earth and putting them into the barrow.

“Hey,” he called cheerfully. He’d stripped off his green shirt and put on a ratty old, long-sleeved tee. His pants were different, too—jeans still, but old and holey in the knees. He’d changed into brown, well-worn work boots.

“What are you doing?” She eyed the growing pile of clods.

“Making a berm, first one over there and then we’ll see.” His voice was excited, eager. “You have to imagine a garden as a series of rooms. I thought we’d make this the entrance hall, raised beds of flowers, trees along here to shelter the sidewalk…Which is going to be shaped irregularly, winding slowly to the front door. It makes it interesting for guests. And it’s good feng shui.”

Entrance hall? Feng shui? She glanced at him, thinking he must be joking, but he looked as serious as he ever did—which wasn’t very. His face was so good-humored that he always seemed on the verge of a smile. Bella told herself she found that irritating. Nobody could be in a good mood all the time.

“Your youngsters are in the house. I suggested they might want to help, but they weren’t too enthusiastic.”

No kidding. Getting them to do anything remotely productive these days was almost more effort than it was worth.

“I’ll see if I can change their minds about that.” Bella decided she’d rout them out and do some digging herself before dinner. It would be good to do something out of doors, together. The day was typically overcast, but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining, both of which were bonuses.

Inside the front door, she tripped over Kelsey’s book bag and then kicked aside Josh’s trainers. A trail of cookie crumbs and tortilla chips led from the kitchen to the den. Bella followed.

Josh was sprawled on the sofa, television turned up to an earsplitting level as a NASCAR race unfolded. Two empty soda cans, a flattened milk carton and discarded cookie package lay on the carpet, along with more crumbs.

Bella picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

“Hey.” Josh sat up. “Chill, Mom. I was watching that.”

“You can watch television later. Right now I’d like you to pick up this mess, put on some old clothes and come outside. We’re all going to work in the garden.”

“Says who?” His tone was verging on insolent. “The dude out there with the old truck?”

“Says me.” Determined not to lose her patience, Bella tried reason. “I have to sell this house, and in order to do that and make some money so we can move and keep on buying groceries, it has to be landscaped. I don’t know how to do anything with a garden, but Mr. Fredricks has offered to help. C’mon, it could even be fun.”

“I’ve got homework.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly working on it. You can do your homework after dinner.”

Muttering under his breath, Josh headed for the stairs. Bella looked at the mess he was leaving behind and decided one battle at a time was just about enough.

Upstairs, Kelsey’s door was closed. When there was no answer in response to her knock, Bella opened it. Piles of clothing covered the floor. Kelsey reclined against her pillows on the unmade bed, grubby shoes resting on the sheets. She was eating chocolate ice cream and was listening to her iPod. Until Bella was standing over her, she didn’t even notice her mother was there.

Kelsey slowly removed the ear buds.

“Yes, Mother?” She took another spoonful of ice cream and raised one eyebrow.

A scant year ago, when she was twelve, Kelsey had still hugged Bella at bedtime and even kissed her goodbye before leaving for school. At thirteen, she’d become something of a changeling, who made no secret of the fact that she had no desire to be in the same room with her mother. The best Bella could expect these days was strained politeness.

“This room is a pigsty.” She hadn’t intended to say that, but the handmade, black velvet quilt Kelsey had begged for last Christmas was tossed into a corner, and the closet door was open, revealing a nest of tumbled clothing, shoes and damp bath towels. And was that Bella’s pink cashmere sweater rolled in a ball on the dresser? She walked over to reclaim it, and saw it had a huge stain across the front, something that looked like ink.

“This is my best sweater. What did you do to this, Kelsey, use it as a blotter?”

Her daughter shrugged. “So, did you come in here just to rail at me?”

“No, I did not.” Bella tried for a calming breath. “Get up and put some old clothes on. We’re going to dig up the front yard and plant a garden.”

“Garden? No, thanks.” Kelsey screwed her face into an expression of disgust. “Besides, nobody does their own gardening, Mother.”

“You’re wrong there. Lots of our neighbors on Maple Street used to grow gardens.” Bella felt homesick for their old neighborhood. She felt homesick for their old life. “I’ll bet lots of people here do, too. You just can’t see them behind those huge hedges. Prince Charles is a gardener, for heaven’s sake.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll bet Prince William doesn’t have a thing for shovels and stuff.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, you’re not Prince William. So put that ice cream carton in the garbage before it does any more damage, and from now on, do not lie on that bed with your shoes on. I’ll expect you outside in ten minutes.”

Bella got out before she lost it. Barely.

But her own bedroom wasn’t that much of an improvement over Kelsey’s, she noted. Empty coffee cups littered the floor beside the bed and a bottle of melatonin lay on its side on the bedside table.

She took off her work clothes—cords and a sweater—and put on older cords and a tee, topping it off with the purple, long-sleeved sweatshirt Niki had complained about last Sunday. It had paint splotches, but what the heck? It was fine for digging dirt.

Kelsey and Josh were waiting in the front hall. They might have looked slightly more cheerful if they were going to prison. Bella felt sorry for them. Their lives had changed almost as much as hers had. But they were all just going to have to get used to it.

She led the way out the door and down the steps. Charlie was still effortlessly moving piles of dirt from one area to another. He waved cheerfully, and Bella introduced her kids.

“Josh, Kelsey, this is Mr. Fredricks.”

“Call me Charlie. Pleased to meet you,” he said.

Josh and Kelsey didn’t reply.

Bella was about to call them on their lack of manners when Charlie said, “There’s shovels in the truck. You can start digging out the base for the sidewalk, marked out with that yellow cord. It needs to be six inches deep and relatively even. When we get it dug, I’ll put in forms for the concrete.”

Sure enough, two parallel yellow cords stretched in a gently curving line from the edge of the property to the front door.

Josh muttered, “A sidewalk? Is this guy nuts?”

Kelsey huffed, “Daddy would never make me do this.”

Too true. Daddy never did anything himself.

Bella led the way to the truck and lifted three long-handled spades from the bed. She distributed them and tried to inject enthusiasm into her tone. “Come on, let’s get started. How hard can it be?”

Within minutes, she found out. Charlie came over and showed them how to sink the spade into the ground by holding the handle tight and jumping on the blade. He made it look simple.

“Make your cuts on a slight angle, and try to make the clumps of sod a uniform shape,” he instructed, handing the shovel back to Bella. “You try it. You might want to find some work gloves first, though.”

“I don’t think I have any.”

He walked over to the truck, rummaged under the front seat and then handed her a filthy pair of gloves. Grimacing, she slipped them on.

The first time she tried to cut the sod, she slipped off the side of the shovel and gouged her ankle. It hurt, but, determined to set a good example, she ignored the pain and tried again. This time, the shovel penetrated the earth three inches, and she felt the reverberation all the way up to her skull.

“Why don’t you give it a go, son?” Charlie gestured at Josh, who slowly let go of his shovel. It fell to the ground, narrowly missing Charlie’s foot.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t my father,” Josh said.

Charlie stared at him briefly, then nodded. “You’re right, that was patronizing. I apologize.”

After a tense moment, Bella said sharply, “Josh. I didn’t raise you to be rude.”

With obvious reluctance, he shook Charlie’s outstretched hand, and then everyone breathed again.

“Okay, let’s start over,” Charlie said. “How about taking a stab at digging out this sidewalk, Josh?” He reached down, picked up the shovel and held it out.

Josh accepted the shovel, positioned it and stepped down hard. A clump of earth came free, and he lobbed it into the wheelbarrow with energy probably generated by rage.

Charlie ignored Josh’s temper. He turned back to what he’d been doing, and Bella went back to trying to get her shovel to sink more than an inch into the ground. Kelsey made her own halfhearted effort, and when it didn’t work, she started back toward the house.

“Kelsey, you can come over here and start piling these blocks up in a berm if you want,” Charlie called to her.

“I don’t want to, and I have no idea what he’s talking about,” she said in an undertone.

“Go, and be polite,” Bella ordered. “He’ll explain.”

With the speed of a caterpillar, the girl made her way across the yard. Charlie began talking to her, and soon Kelsey was gingerly lifting clods of earth and building them into a long, irregularly shaped hillock.

For the next hour, Bella did her best to establish a work ethic for her children. Her arms ached, her foot still hurt from the shovel and her back was sore from heaving clods of earth into the wheelbarrow, but she persevered until exhaustion got the best of her.

“I think that’s enough for today,” she finally gasped, glancing at her watch and trying to pretend she wasn’t on the verge of a heart attack. “I’ll just…I’ll go in and make some dinner.” Hoping he’d refuse, she added without enthusiasm, “Will you join us, Charlie?” After the work he’d accomplished in spite of their help, she really had no choice except to invite him.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

“Mom, can I come in with you?” Kelsey, as dirty as Bella had ever seen her, gave her a beseeching glance. “Please, Mom?”

“Sure.” Bella glanced over at Josh. He still looked grim, but he was methodically driving the shovel into the ground and digging out clumps. Sweat was running down his forehead.

“Okay, dinner in about an hour, men.” She was trying to figure out just what dinner might consist of, and she was failing miserably.

“C’mon, Kelsey.” As they made their way into the house, Bella thought it was probably the first time in months her daughter had looked eager to go anywhere with her.

Bella muttered under her breath, “Now what am I going to make?” The cupboards were close to bare and she had no money to order pizza.

“There’s hamburger in the freezer,” Kelsey said. “We could make that stuff with macaroni and tomatoes and cheese that you used to cook sometimes when we were little.”

Bella thought she’d pass out from shock. Kelsey, noticing frozen hamburger? Suggesting a dinner menu?

“I just happened to see the package when I was getting ice cream,” she said in a defensive tone.

“I’m glad you did,” Bella told her. “Shipwreck, that stuff was called.” Perfect for their current situation. And it was one of the very few things she actually knew how to make without a cookbook. “That’s a great idea. Let’s wash up and get started.”

“I can’t, Mom.” The whine was back. “I have homework. And I’m writing Daddy a letter, for when we know his new address.”

“Right. Well, you can finish all that the minute we’re done eating, and I’ll get Josh to help me with dishes. You did volunteer to help make dinner, Kelsey, and I’m holding you to it. You can chop onions and start browning them, while I thaw the meat and cook macaroni.”

Kelsey pulled a face and held out her soil-stained hands. “After I have a shower, right?”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m filthy myself.”

By the time Charlie and Josh came in to wash up, Bella had pulled together a meal with Kelsey’s help. They’d set out the food on the island in the kitchen, and had actually had a peaceful, productive conversation about how best to chop onions and brown hamburger.

“This is great,” Charlie enthused, reaching for another of the baking powder biscuits Kelsey had whipped up at the last minute. Bella had watched her in amazement, wondering where this self-confident young cook had sprung from.

“We learned to make them in school,” Kelsey explained. “They’re, like, soooo easy.”

“I pretty much live on takeout or frozen dinners, so having a home-cooked meal is a real treat,” Charlie remarked, slathering butter on a biscuit.

“I don’t really do much cooking myself,” Bella had to confess.

“No kidding, Mom,” Josh agreed. “You haven’t made this stuff in a long time.”

“Glad you like it.” She hadn’t made anything from scratch in ages. Bella, too, had been relying heavily on takeout and frozen dinners.

Being Mae’s daughter, she’d never really learned to cook, apart from a limited number of dishes along the lines of shipwreck. Her mom had alternately nagged Bella about being too skinny and then produced dishes that were all but inedible.

And lately, Bella had felt too stressed and overworked and angry with Gordon to concoct even one of her simplest standbys. Which was ironic, because now, when she was really stressed and overworked, making a meal from inexpensive ingredients was a financial necessity.

“Josh,” Charlie said when they were done eating, “where’s that list we made of materials? I forgot to add bonemeal and we’ll need that to give the new trees and bushes a head start when we put them in the ground.”

Josh pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and scribbled in it, then handed it to Charlie.

“I have a meeting tomorrow morning, but maybe you want to come with me after school to pick this stuff up?”

Josh shook his head. “Can’t. Basketball practice,” he said.

“What position do you play?”

“Center.”

“Your team win any games?”

“About half. We’ve got a good coach, but a lot of the guys don’t play very hard.” Josh suddenly remembered to be bored. “I’m only doing it because we get extra credits for sports. It’s basically a dumb game.”

“It can be rough, that’s for sure. That’s how I got my nose broken the first time. What sports do you really enjoy?”

“Squash. But we don’t have any squash courts at school.”

Bella knew Josh hadn’t played squash more than a half-dozen times. He was only mentioning it because Gordon had repeatedly said how good he’d been at the game. Not that Gordon had played more than a dozen times, either, as far as Bella could remember. And never with Josh.

Charlie said, “Rick belongs to the Point Grey Athletic Club, and they have courts there. Maybe you’d like to have a game sometime?”

The teen shrugged, concentrating on his empty plate. “Yeah. I guess. Maybe. Sometime. Can I be excused, Mom?”

“Yes, and please load the dishes in the dishwasher for me. And could you wash the pots by hand? Kelsey helped make the meal, and I told her you’d do cleanup.”

“Ahh, mom. I’ve got homework.”

Bella raised her eyebrows. “Strange, how whenever I have a job for you to do, you remember your homework.”

“Yeah, well, you’re always on me to get good grades, right?”

Charlie stood up and began stacking dishes. “How about I give you a hand? That way it won’t take long.”

“I can do it,” Josh muttered.

“No problem. Where are the garbage bags?”

It was obvious Josh didn’t want Charlie helping, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Sullenly, he banged pots into the sink as Charlie scraped and rinsed plates for the dishwasher. Kelsey beat a fast retreat up the stairs.

Way too tired to get involved in any more domestic skirmishes, Bella poured herself a cup of coffee and slunk into the living room.

“I’ll come and join you as soon as we’re done,” Charlie promised.

That wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. She’d been hoping he’d leave right after dinner, but just like with Josh, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. She sank into an armchair and propped her feet on a stool.

She was beginning to ache in places she’d never noticed before, when Charlie came in and made himself comfortable on the sofa. He’d changed his work clothes for his clean jeans and shirt before dinner, and he’d used a wet comb on his hair; the track marks still showed.

Now, if she were Niki, she’d label him hot. Lucky she wasn’t the least bit interested.

“I drew up a master plan for your garden,” he said, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. “Come over and have a look, and see what you think.” He patted the sofa.

Bella got up and sat beside him, a reasonable distance away.

“I thought we’d make it as low-maintenance as possible, since that’s always a good selling point. These days, people don’t have time to devote to a garden that requires a lot of upkeep. So we’ll use trees and bushes that are indigenous to the coast, we’ll put down bark mulch and install underground sprinklers. No lawn, no mowing, and not even many weeds. What do you think?”

Bella peered at the paper in his hands. She could smell him—a mélange of soap, some residual sweat and essence of Charlie.

Pheromones. Niki had told her all about them. The little buggers were working overtime right now.

Bella said, “A sprinkler system sounds expensive.”

“I know a guy who’ll put it in for a reasonable price.”

“Even reasonable is going to be way beyond my budget.”

“Well, maybe we can work some sort of a trade with him.”

“As in…?” She was so worn out, she found herself thinking of making a joke about sexual favors. As if anyone would consider her current body highly desirable. Always on the skinny side, she’d lost seven or eight pounds over the last few weeks. And what was left of her chest struck her as rather sad.

Yet, the thought of what a man would be doing messing with her chest or pelvic bones still sent warmth rushing to her nether regions. And not just any man. It was ridiculous to be so aware of Charlie. They were simply sitting on a sofa, his right leg a good foot away from her left leg. It went to prove that basic sexual instincts were hot-wired in.

Fortunately, Charlie was oblivious to her X-rated thinking. “I’d have to talk to him, figure out what he needs that we might be able to supply,” he mused. “You’ve probably got plastic pipe and other stuff at the hardware store he could use.”

“I do have plastic pipe for irrigation, and some of the valves, as well.”

“Great. But we’ll need to buy plants and flowers and trees, although I’ll get what I can for free. I know a gardener who often has stuff he’s discarding. Plus, we’ll need ready mix for the sidewalk.”

“How much will that come to?”

“Maybe three, four thousand, for both cement and plantings. But the difference it will make in the selling price of your house will be in the tens of thousands.”

Bella gulped. There were always going to be expenses she couldn’t avoid. Somehow, she’d have to find the money to cover them. She was too weary to even worry about all that right now. She yawned, politely covering her mouth with her fingers, and then yawned again, not so politely. Her eyes watered and her jaw cracked.

“You’re beat.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry. I’m not used to digging, I guess.”

“I’ll go now, so you can get some rest, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. The sooner we get the work done, the sooner you can put out the FSBO.”

“FSBO?” She vaguely remembered Mae using the term, when Bella had told her she was selling the house herself. Her mother had been against it. Big surprise there. Mae was against almost every decision Bella had ever made—except the decision to marry Gordon. Mae had liked Gordon. Now why hadn’t that rung any warning bells?

“FSBO. It’s what we smart-alecky real-estate types call ‘for sale by owner.’”

“Aren’t you going to try and talk me out of that?”

“Nope. Of course, I’ll have to commit bodily harm if you ever breathe a word of this to my brother. But I think people have every right to sell their houses themselves.”

“Yikes. And after the campaign you waged, who knew? Well, thank you.” Bella actually beamed. And then she yawned a third time. “Sorry. I’m not very good company.”

He gave her a long, assessing look. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re honest and you’re entertaining. And you make great shipwreck.”

“So are puppies and little kids. Honest and entertaining, that is. And I can’t cook more than three basic things.” She felt absurdly disappointed that he hadn’t lied and said she was sexy, or attractive or even cute. Which was ridiculous, because she absolutely didn’t care what he thought of her.

“Don’t get up—I’ll see myself out. Good night, Bella. See you tomorrow.”

She took him at his word, because the thought of getting up was close to overwhelming. When she finally made it as far as the kitchen, she found it gleaming.

For the first night since Gordon had left, she slept all the way through until the alarm rang in the morning, and she woke up feeling rested and hungry. She ate cereal and toast and yogurt, and realized she was actually looking forward to the day ahead.