Boo Hiss (14 page)

Katelyn was standing near Martin and asked, “What does he mean by four digits?”

Martin whispered, “It’s a small town. We just dial the last four digits of the phone number if we’re calling someone else in Skary.”

“So that’s it for now, everyone. I love the flour idea, don’t you? Have a wonderful day!”

Katelyn took Martin’s arm and headed out the back door with him. “I’m going to have to talk to people later about all these changes, Martin. I have an appointment in a few minutes. But I wondered if I could have a moment of your time.”

“Sure.”

“I’m interested in that vacant store on Main Street.”

“Where the hardware store used to be?”

“That’s right.”

“We could definitely use another hardware store. We have to go to the next county just to buy some nails.”

She smiled sweetly. “I have different plans for that property.”

Martin blinked. As far back as he could remember, it had always contained some sort of hardware store. It had certainly had different owners, but it was always hardware.

“Not hardware?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s actually going to be called Come and Play.”

“Come and play what?”

“It’s a miniature gym, with bright colors and plastic play stations.”

“What’s it for?”

“Children, silly. You join with a monthly membership, and then you come and play with your child.”

Martin blinked, trying to follow. “You come and play with your child and do what?”

“Oh, it’s really much more than playing. We’ll have all sorts of different and creative ways to interact with your child. It looks like playing, but what you’re really doing is teaching your child.”

“People pay for this?”

“Oh, it’s very popular. Everyone in my affluent suburb loved it. We actually had to turn people away. By the time he was three, my son Willem knew how to ask for nearly anything in Spanish.”

“I’m sure that’s quite handy in your crowd of people.” Martin said.

“I’m telling you,” Katelyn said. “This is going to be a hit.”

Martin couldn’t deny the fact that everything else she’d laid her hands on seemed to turn to gold. She glanced at her watch. “I have to run.” She offered her hand. Martin shook it with great care. “I’ll see you soon, Martin.”

Martin watched her leave, then decided to go to the grocery store. He needed some flour.

Ainsley wiped her face with the Kleenex and tried to pull herself together. But with each look in the mirror, her chest would heave and she would be back to square one. She turned and walked into her bedroom. “Good grief!” she whispered harshly to herself. “Get yourself together!”

Walking quietly into the hallway, she listened carefully. She could hear Melb laughing. That was good. She’d stuck in a video for her so she could have a chance to come upstairs. She had a meeting in ten minutes and she hadn’t even gotten dressed yet!”

Besides that, she was plagued with guilt. When Melb had refused to eat her broccoli and bagel at lunch, Ainsley had caved and given her Gummi Bears instead.

“Death by Gummi Bears?” Wolfe had chuckled over the phone.

Ainsley had hung up on him. He didn’t understand. Nobody understood. She’d never felt so alone, so out of control, and so guilty all at the same time.

Melb seemed to be sitting on the couch, enjoying the video, and staying out of the kitchen, so Ainsley tiptoed back into the bathroom. She had to do more than get dressed. She actually had to look professional. This woman … Katelyn … as pulled together as they come, expected a woman equally as pulled together. Once upon a time, this didn’t seem so hard. Just a few months ago she was the next Martha Stewart. Now she was just a bad version of herself.

Katelyn had gushed about her reputation, and so far she’d only been
seen in her bathrobe. If she didn’t hurry, this time she’d be in her pajamas with splotchy, sticky skin.

She pulled on a T-shirt and then a brightly colored cardigan. She decided on her dark khakis and brown flats. Wolfe had bought her a nice, soft leather briefcase for her birthday, so that should finish off her look.

Now, what to do with the hair? Katelyn’s was perfect. Not a strand out of place. Held back from her face with a leather headband as if to expose the flawless skin that showed every touch of color like a painter’s palette. Ainsley decided to try a little colored lip gloss. She glided it over her lips, and next thing she knew, the mascara wand was in her hand.

The careful artistry of stroking her lashes was interrupted by
“Ainsley
!”

The wand fell down her cheek and onto her sweater, leaving black skid marks. Ainsley’s mouth dropped open. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to—

“Ainsley
!”

Ainsley swallowed back her tears and walked out of her bedroom. At the top of the stairs she called, “Yes, Melb?” Her voice wobbled, but Melb wouldn’t notice.

“This is so funny! I just had to tell you that. This is absolutely hysterical!”

“Oh. Good.” Ainsley turned back to her room, looked at the clock, and stripped. Okay, she might have to go with a frumpier sweater. She pulled on a color-blocked number, which did not go with the khakis. She changed to black pants and black boots, which required black socks. Rushing back into the bathroom, she scrubbed her face raw, but the mascara was still barely visible.

“Foundation.”

She fumbled through her drawers, trying to find the one bottle she
owned. “There!” She opened it up, spilled some onto her fingers, and first started rubbing into the half of her face that had fallen victim to the mascara. It had been a long time since she’d worn foundation, but she was pretty sure it was just a matter of blending.

The doorbell rang. Ainsley turned. “The baby-sitter,” she breathed. “Okay. Okay. Okay.” She rinsed her hands and kept the bottle on the counter so she could finish up. She raced past the living room, where Melb seemed oblivious as she stared at the television and roared with laughter.

She opened the front door. Amber, the fifteen-year-old daughter of one of the church members, stood smacking her gum.

“Hi Amber,” Ainsley said.

“Hi. How much do you pay?”

“Well, why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about this?” Ainsley led her to the kitchen. “What do you charge, Amber?”

“I’ve never baby-sat an adult.”

“Well, how about I pay you twenty bucks?”

“For an hour and a half?”

“Not enough?”

Amber paused then said, “Yeah, I guess that’ll be okay. What do I have to do?”

“Basically just keep her happy and comfortable. She’s going to want cookies and candy, but under no circumstance should you give them to her. A couple of crackers should be fine, and she can have one glass of juice, but no more, or she’ll have to get up and go to the bathroom.”

Amber glanced toward the living room with a bit of fear in her eyes.

“In case of an emergency, be sure to call the sheriff, okay? But if you need to get ahold of me, I’ll be at the deli.”

“Which one?”

“There are two?”

“There’s a new one, just opened yesterday.”

“Oh. Well, I’m going to be at the one on the corner.”

Amber nodded, her arms still loosely crossed in front of her belly. She was giving Ainsley some odd looks, but what more could she do? It was a last resort. She knew one thing, she couldn’t possibly leave Melb here alone.

Amber said, “So it’s okay that she watches television?”

“Yeah, sure. Just keep putting in videos if you have to. I need to run upstairs and get my stuff. Do you have any questions?” Amber shook her head.

“Okay.” Ainsley hurried upstairs, grabbed her briefcase, and decided she was just going to have to wear a ponytail. She quickly brushed her hair and secured it to the back of her head. Gathering up the papers and recipe books scattered across her bed, she threw them into her briefcase, then zipped it up and ran to the door. Stopping just short of the hallway, breathing hard, she felt like she was forgetting something. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. Recipe books. Grocery list. Idea list. Decorating list. Her heart pounded inside her chest. The ticking of the hallway clock brought her eyes wide open.

“Oh!”

She was already five minutes late, and she hadn’t even made it out the door yet. Scrambling downstairs, she yelled a good-bye and ran out the front door. “Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave,” she murmured. Her goals were much less lofty now. She just wanted to get there before the very pulled-together woman left.

Katelyn drummed her fingers against the paper that was spread where a tablecloth would normally be. She’d expected a waiter to at least come by and write his name out in crayon, but there were no waiters at this deli. Just paper tablecloths and only eight sandwiches, five of which contained meat products that Katelyn refused to eat. She’d ordered a side salad and a tea.

Checking her watch again, she wondered what everyone thought was so special about this Ainsley Boone. She’d come highly recommended by all the townspeople, but so far she hadn’t impressed Katelyn one tiny bit.

Maybe there was a small-town hierarchy that Katelyn was going to have to familiarize herself with. From what she could tell, it was apparently important to be related in some way to the sheriff, who didn’t appear to wield any special power, but had a mighty big presence nevertheless. It probably also didn’t hurt to be married to the likes of Wolfe Boone, admittedly a handsome fellow, though Katelyn hadn’t seen him do much more than wander the streets and drink coffee.

Through years of painful experience, Katelyn had found how very important the hierarchy was. She’d made it her goal to study it in every situation. No matter what circumstance she found herself in, she could immediately assess who held the power, whether it was at the garden club, a church fellowship, or a book club. Always,
always
, there was someone who was honored for their importance. She sipped her tea and stared out the store front. She was having serious doubts about her decision to use Ainsley Boone.

Just then the door flew open, the chimes announcing an arrival. Ainsley rushed toward the table like a strong north wind.

“So sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. She was swiping hair out of her face and at the same time trying to unbutton her coat. “I hate to be late. I’m never late. Please accept my apology. I’m so terribly horrified.”

Katelyn stood, not knowing what else to do. The poor woman looked like she was about to collapse. “No, it’s okay. I just grabbed some lunch. It’s no problem.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Ainsley dropped her coat onto a chair, and her briefcase fell to the floor with a thud. “Oops. Hold on, let me get that.” She stooped to retrieve it, then hit her head on the table as she rose. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay?” Katelyn gasped.

She rubbed her head. “I’m fine,” she said with a smile, though Katelyn thought she saw tears in her eyes.

“Please, sit down here. Relax. Everything’s fine.”

Ainsley set her bag down, this time with an exhausted look on her face, and fell into her chair. “You’ll have to excuse all this. I normally am very prompt.”

Katelyn plastered a smile on her face. “Again, you come highly recommended.”

Tears streamed down her face. “Thank you.”

“Oh … no … don’t … “ Katelyn was at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a woman cry before. Plenty of men, but no woman in her circle of friends, that was for sure. She handed her a napkin.

Ainsley smiled, but her nose was turning red, and her eyes were wet and shiny. Katelyn looked closer. Oddly, she appeared to have makeup on only one side of her face. If this woman was considered “pulled together,” she wondered what the rest of the Skary women were like!”

She was breathing deeply, gathering herself. Finally she said, “The baby-sitter was late.”

“The baby-sitter? Oh, I know what you mean. Baby-sitters are hopelessly unreliable. I’ve been through five in the last eight months. They all claim my little Willem is uncontrollable, but in reality, they’re
just not able to render control. The kid is five, you know? I mean, do they really expect him to do everything they say? It takes some creativity to get your kid to eat his dessert.”