Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5) (39 page)

It wasn’t long after she hung up.

I received her package this morning. The day before Christmas. I tuck it under the tree we’d gone out to cut last weekend. A bit late to start decorating, but we’ve had other things on our minds. Clint’s back at work, and even Jed is back half time. Only in the office, but Clint says it makes a big difference to have him take care of tenders and sub-trades, scheduling, and payroll, as well as most anything else that requires sitting down in an office. That’s apparently never been Clint’s strong suit. He’s not happy unless he’s working with his hands. Jed’s been talking about heading back to Durango when he’s fully recovered, since he has nothing tying him down anywhere else anymore. I think it made Clint a little sad that he wouldn’t be settling in Cedar Tree, but Jed pointed out that it would be much easier for them to build the business if they had someone running a satellite office there. More cost effective and Jed could build his own crews there. There certainly seems to be enough work. He’d continue to keep doing payroll, but Clint was already looking for someone to run his office here. I’d talked about it with Arlene, asking her if she knew of anyone, to let me know.

I’ve been working nights from four till nine. It seems to work out with Max, although I’ve got to say, I’d like it if Clint and I had more time to spend together. I’ve not been able to rent my house yet, and the cost of the mortgage and the care for Max is hacking away at my part-time hours
and
my tips. I was hoping I could hang on to it. Although I’ve not mentioned it out loud, I dream that maybe once Dylan comes back after the trial, from wherever they’re keeping him, he’d be interested in moving in.

The doorbell ringing pulls me out of my thoughts, and I automatically look out the back window to the shed, where I know Clint is putting the last hand on a beautiful handcrafted sled he’s been building, a few hours every night. I see his back bent over the treads, sanding them smooth. Secure in my knowledge he’s close, I head for the door. I’m still a little apprehensive after all that’s happened, but I’m getting better.

“Hey, woman!” Arlene almost shouts as she blows past me into the house, leaving me to shut the door.

“Boots,” I remind her. She’s used to running in and out of the diner without taking off shoes or boots, but I don’t need crap all over the floors with Max around.

“Where’s Max?” Arlene asks, as she pulls of her boots with the toe of the other foot.

“In bed, so mind the volume.”

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’ve become so damn domesticated the last few months, I hardly recognize you.”

For some reason that comment makes me tear up. Arlene tosses her boots toward the entrance while I turn my back, trying to fight them back. She walks up around me, takes one look at me, and tilts her head.

“What’s wrong? You’re crying. You don’t cry. Like, not ever.”

That makes me laugh through my tears, because I never did, not that anyone’d know anyway. Not even Arlene. “I’ve changed,” I point out.

“I know, that’s what I’m saying.”

“I know you are. You pointed out I’m different. That you hardly recognize me.”

I can tell the moment she clues in. Her mouth falls open in a silent, ‘
oh
’ and she blinks her eyes a few times before blurting out, “Happy! I didn’t mean it in a bad way, just meant to say I don’t recognize you so happy. Geeze Louise, I’m getting to be as bad as Clint with my mouth. Seb’s on my case all the time that I should think before saying shit, but who’s got the time?” Instantly she’s right in front of me, her forearms resting on my shoulders and her face close. “You’re even better than before, honey. I mean, you were gooder than good. Actually you were the
best
before, but now you’re... well, better.”

“Gooder than good?” I can’t help but smile.

“No. Better than best,” she corrects me, giving me the good smile.
With
teeth. So I slip my arms around her waist and give her a hug.

“Thanks.”

No sooner has the word left my lips or she shoves me back. “See what I mean? Enough with the mushy shit. Got coffee? I’m thinking we’ll need some.”

A little puzzled, I nevertheless head for the kitchen and pop a pod in my Tassimo. I was so happy to bring it over from my house, makes life a lot easier.

“Clint not home? It’s frickin’ Christmas Eve.”

“Back there, finishing up that sled he built for Max.” I point at his flannel covered back, still visible inside the shed.

“Good, I wanted you alone anyway. For now at least. Brought some gifts for the tree, for Max tomorrow morning. For you too, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about.”

“Really?” I slide Arlene’s cup on the counter in front of her and grab a bottle of water for myself.

Curious, I pull out a stool and sit next to her at the counter, waiting for her to spill.

“You told me Jed’s leaving for Durango after the holidays and Clint’s looking for someone to man the office. I was thinking that with Max here for however long, and with Clint running the show by himself again, it may be time to make some changes.” She’s hedging, I can tell. Not really her style, but whatever she’s got on her mind, she’s having a hard time just coming out with it.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m thinking it’s time you considered a career change.”

My mouth falls open in disbelief. She’s fucking letting me go? After spending my entire adult life at the diner, she’s sending me packing? Before I can push back from the counter, she has my wrist in a firm grip.

“Let me finish. Maybe it’s because I don’t have my face in it that closely, but it seems to me there’s a pretty simple solution for you. You take over the office for Clint.”

Well, that stops me in my tracks, if her vice-grip on my wrist wasn’t already preventing flight.

“Say what?”

“Think about it. The hours you work at the diner, simply transfer those over to Mason Brothers. I don’t know how much Clint can pay you, but I doubt it’ll be less than what I pay, it’s not like he’s hurting. I figure with the money you’d save in gas, you could pay for a few hours of daycare. At least you’d get to spend a bit more time together in the evenings. You’ll need it.”

I’m reeling at her suggestion. It’s not that it’s
never
crossed my mind, it’s just that I’ve never allowed myself to think it. I simply couldn’t see myself away from the diner, where I’ve spent more than half my life. I also didn’t want to think of leaving Arlene, but having
her
come up with the suggestion, it bears considering.

“I don’t know...” I mutter undecidedly, “There’s just so much to consider.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I’d have to find daycare for half days,” I offer.

“Emma’s already on it. And she wants first dibs.”

“Emma?”

“She’s gonna start taking Mattias after Christmas, while Katie works in the office. Caleb’s going back in the field on short stints.”

“Seriously? But that’s different, Katie will just be in a different space under the same roof.” Emma and Gus had a guesthouse and a totally outfitted office space, complete with boardroom, added to their house a few years ago. Gus basically worked from home, unless he was on a job.

“How different? Better different, yes—things get too much for Emma or something happens, God forbid, Katie is right there.”

“It might actually work,” I admit, “but I don’t even know if Clint would want me there, I’ve never really worked in an office before.”

“Reckon you can run that damn diner on your own, the times you’ve jumped in over the years, running my shop should be a piece of cake.” Clint’s voice from behind startles me, I turn and only now notice him standing on the doormat by the back door. I was so engrossed, I never heard the sliding door.

“How long have you been there?” I want to know and his mouth tilts up slightly.

“Long enough to know you’re too worried about everyone else and not worried enough about what you want. What do you want Beth? Cause I can tell you, it’d make my fucking life even better than it already is, with us growing the business and tending a family, together.”

“Thinking my job is done here, I feel mushy coming on, and once a day is already more than enough,” Arlene chuckles, getting up and pulling on her boots in the hallway. “You can let me know after the holidays, take some time to think. I’ll leave the bag with presents by the door. Don’t forget to grab it when you’re... done.”

I hear the click of the door, that’s it. I’m still staring at Clint, who’s staring right back at me. “You mean that?”

“What do you mean, do I mean that? Of course I mean that. I’d love to have you deal with the likes of Sarah Creemore. Saves me the aggravation.” He’s only half serious, clear from the sparkle of humor in his eyes, but it’s true that Sarah Creemore has been a big pest. He’s told me she’s still trying to get him to come over to ‘fix’ things. Fact that he’s been sending his sixty year old, bow-legged foreman over, is apparently not appreciated. Had me a good chuckle over that.

“Wow. Guess that means we have a plan now?” I watch Clint toe off his boots, unwrap the scarf around his neck, and pull off the beanie he’s taken to wearing in place of his hat. He stalks to me slowly, his teeth bright white in his growing beard. When he gets to me, he first bends his mouth, and takes mine in a soul shattering kiss. One that has me glad I’m already sitting down or it would’ve put me on my ass. Then he pulls me off the stool, turns me in the direction of the hallway and gently steers me to the bedroom.

Oh yeah.

-

-

“P
wesents?”

Max is pointing up at the Christmas tree, sitting in the middle of a pile of wrapping paper he industriously ripped off every last one of his presents. And ours. All except one last one, a little one, that was dangling off a branch out of his reach. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t spot it.

He really should have no concept of Christmas yet, but still he woke us up at five thirty this morning, just like any other kid at Christmas. Still dark as night outside, I decided to light candles and set them where Max can’t reach, with the only lamplight coming from the kitchen. Getting coffee ready, a pot this time, for Clint and myself and a sippy cup of milk for Max, it only took a minute to pop the cinnamon rolls Arlene left by the front door last night in the oven. Along with the box of rolls, there’d been a bag with a variety of gourmet goodies: premium coffee, which was brewing, chocolate covered strawberries, a folded paper bag with marshmallows, graham crackers, and the good slabs of Lindt chocolate. A note on the bag had said,
Breakfast is on us, love Seb & Arlene
. Lastly there’d been a bottle of nice champagne. At least I think it’s nice, because it says Moët & Chandon, and I know Queen, one of my favorite bands of all time, sings about it. I was ready to dig in last night, but Clint made me put it all in the fridge for today. Party-pooper.

I’d set it out early this morning, while the cinnamon rolls were heating up and the coffee was percolating, but the moment Clint walked into the kitchen with Max on his arm, he handed Max to me and started putting everything back in the fridge.

“Save it for later. First let’s get this little guy at his presents, he’s chomping at the bit.”

He was hardly chomping, cause by the time I settled on the couch, with a coffee in front of me and Max on my lap with his milk, he was almost dozing off. Of course that didn’t last long, because the moment Clint handed him a present, he slid on the floor and proceeded to decimate the pretty wrapping paper without even paying it attention.

“Bean,” Clint leaned over and drew my attention. I guess I must’ve looked funny, because he chuckled, “ripping wrapping paper is half the fun when you’re two.”

Right. I keep reminding myself with every prettily wrapped gift that got ripped to bits, and all with the biggest smile. I know Clint is saving the sled for after breakfast, so they can go out and try it right away.

But there is that little present, dangling from the tree and I have no idea how it got there. I didn’t do it and I know Clint didn’t do it, cause both of us agreed that gift giving at Christmas should be reserved for kids. Maybe Arlene?

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