A Sticky Situation (12 page)

I am not the world's pickiest housekeeper but I am particular about making my bed every morning and putting my clothes in the dresser drawers. I believe life is more enjoyable if living spaces don't smell like cups of soured milk and if every flat surface is not sticky with unidentifiable substances.

“If you're smart, you'll dig around until you find your pillow and a blanket and you'll move down onto the couch in the living room.”

“Does it seem fair that I should have to move out of my own space because Jade is such a slob?”

“It may not be fair but it looks like the only safe thing to do. You're too short to be in there if the piles get any
taller. I'd hate for you to smother in a sea of designer yoga pants.”

“You don't suppose there's a dog under here somewhere, too, do you?” I asked. Celadon's face flushed and she started breathing loudly.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Just something Mom said.” I don't share Mom's visions with Celadon unless it is absolutely necessary. Celadon has had a psychiatrist on speed dial ever since she learned there was such a thing. When she describes our mother's mental health she uses words like
precarious
. I never like to make Celadon wonder if Mom is standing at the top of an icy cliff with a stiff wind at her back. I also don't really want her wondering if the same can be said about me.

I may not believe all of what Mom tells me but I am considerably more open-minded to the idea of life after corporeal death. I think Celadon never recovered from Mom telling her an elderly and recently deceased aunt had said hello to Celadon as she was having a bath as a small child. I'm not prepared to swear Celadon showers in a bathing suit. I will say her bikini is hanging in the bathroom to dry on a daily basis, winter and summer, and we don't have access to a pool.

“All we need is for Mom to start having one of her visions. You don't suppose she's going to try to rid Hazel of dark spirits again do you? The house smells like burning grass for weeks every time she does that.”

“I'm sure I couldn't say what her intentions are.” Which strictly speaking was the truth. It was never a
good idea to think you knew what Mom's intentions were. Besides, it had been a few minutes since I'd last seen her and they were likely to have changed since she relieved me of the incense burner.

“She had better not be out buying a dog.”

“Why don't I go check?” I left Celadon standing in the doorway to my bedroom, peering suspiciously inside like something with a tail and a collection of fleas was about to wriggle out from under all the piles.

Grandma had moved on to vacuuming the couch when I slipped past the living room. From the way she was attacking it with the upholstery attachment I had no confidence there would be a sofa for me to bed down on even if I could have managed to locate my pillow and blanket. Maybe Clarke had been the one with the best idea when he suggested moving into the sugarhouse. I was thinking about checking the attic for an old camping cot when my cell phone rang.

“Have you figured out who really took that money yet?” Tansey's voice was so loud I could hear it over Grandma's vacuuming. “Or are you on some sort of housecleaning bender?” I grabbed a jacket off a peg in the hall and headed out the door. The sun glinted off the snow and the smell of wood smoke drifted on the air. Out here, there was no sign of Hazel or Jade.

“You only just asked me to poke around.”

“So?”

“So, the money's been missing for thirty years. It may take more than two days to get to the bottom of this.”

“A smart girl like you ought to have no problems finding the truth about Spooner.” I wasn't sure even if I did get to the bottom of the whole mess that Tansey was going to be happy with the results. I had no idea if she knew about Spooner's reputation with the ladies. She was a proud person and it might still sting after all these years. For now, I was going to choose my words carefully.

“I've been asking questions all over the place.”

“Who've you been to see?”

“I talked to Doc MacIntyre, Lowell, Karen Brewer, and Preston. I've even spoken with Cliff Thompson and Sarah Gifford.”

“And?”

“And, they all had things to contribute but nothing that could say for sure what really happened.”

“That doesn't sound too promising. What do you have planned next?”

“I thought I'd talk to Jim Parnell since he was the one to put the bank bag in Karen's desk.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? The festival is only a month away and if you don't want to be directing traffic, stapling signs to all the telephone poles, and ordering the extra Porta-Johns all by your lonesome you'd better get hopping.”

“I have been hopping. You know I'm still boiling sap, too, don't you?”

“Get cracking, missy. Jim's bound to be around somewhere. Tell him you and Knowlton are thinking of buying a house together and that you want to see some listings. I
can have Knowlton meet you there to give the story some credence.” The years it would take to convince Knowlton the house hunting story had all been an act did not bear considering. This needed to be shut down and shut down fast.

“If you want me to do this, I do it my way. I would rather work on my own. Besides, I thought you wanted Knowlton kept in the dark about the whole thing until we cleared Spooner's name.”

“See, that's why I know you're the one for the job. Always thinking things through and putting the pieces together. With Knowlton's looks and your brains I am going to be a happy grandmother one day.”

I drove all the way to the real estate office with the image of Tansey patting me on my bulging belly searing into my brain. I had to ask myself if it would be such a bad thing if Tansey sold up and headed out of town. After all, Knowlton was sure to follow her and my troubles, at least on that front, would be solved.

My uncomfortable chat with Tansey had given me a good idea of how to approach Jim though. I parked the minivan in Jim's carefully plowed parking lot and headed up the salted and sanded walkway. There was no doubt about it; Jim wanted potential buyers to feel at home.

The office was small and Jim had only one agent working for him. Sugar Grove wasn't big enough to support a large real estate market even with all the lakefront properties. He had a phone clamped to his ear
when I walked in but he looked up and waved me into a seat across the desk from where he sat.

I plunked myself into the visitor chair and glanced around at the computer printouts of listings hung prominently on the walls. Big red banners proclaiming
SOLD
were outnumbered by listings stating
EAGER SELLER
or
PRICE REDUCED
. As idyllic as Sugar Grove felt to me, it shared the nation's real estate downturn. I hoped maybe that would make Jim all the more eager to talk about the old days.

He finished up his call and turned the full force of his salesman smile on me. “What a delightful surprise. Please make my day and tell me you've finally decided you need a place to call your own.” He leaned across the desk, both hands planted flat on the gleaming wood surface. “I've got just the thing.”

“I hate to disappoint you but I'm not looking to buy. I'm not even sure what it is that I'm looking for.” I watched as his face stiffened into something I think he hoped looked neutral in the face of despair. “You do some business in rentals don't you?”

“I do when the opportunity arises. It's rare though. Are you looking for a house?”

“I was hoping there might be a small apartment somewhere in town. Right now I am sharing a room at Greener Pastures with my cousin Jade. The space is proving too small for the two of us.” That perked him up a bit.

“Usually I wouldn't have any apartments in town but it just so happens Priscilla Martin's long-term tenant,
Frances Doucette, recently needed to move into Dappled Oaks assisted living facility.”

“You mean the apartment above Stems and Hems?” Stems and Hems opened its doors before I was born and Priscilla has faithfully provided Sugar Grove with corsets and corsages year in and year out ever since. I couldn't remember a time when Frances had not lived in the apartment on the second floor of the shop.

I'd been in the apartment a few times as a child trick-or-treating and soliciting money for school fund-raisers. I had loved the place so much Frances had a hard time getting rid of me whenever I showed up clutching a plastic pumpkin bucket or an order form. Unless something had changed drastically, it was exactly the sort of place I needed to convince myself to leave Greener Pastures and strike out on my own.

“That's the one. It isn't large but it's centrally located and it comes fully furnished.” Jim tapped a few keys on his computer keyboard then spun the monitor to face me. “Here are some photos I was planning to use for the listing but if you think either you or Jade would like the apartment I can hold off posting it for a few hours.”

“Could you show it to me right now?” I was looking for an apartment and I needed to stall for enough time to ask Jim the questions I came in for.

“Certainly. We could head over right now.” He hopped to his feet and grabbed his winter jacket off the hook on the wall. “Just let me grab my car keys.” I needed more time and I wasn't sure how much information he would be willing to share with Priscilla joining in the conversation.

“It's such a nice day. Why don't we walk?”

“Anything for a potential customer.” He held the door for me and we were off.

“Were you the one to rent for Priscilla the last time it was empty?”

“As a matter of fact I was. I had just started out in the business. It had to have been more than thirty years ago now.”

“Was the housing market good then?”

“You can always make a living if you are willing to hustle.”

“Since you're still in business after all this time I guess that means you were willing to do just that.”

“Boy was I ever. But you run a small business. You know what it's like.”

“I do. My family has always helped with the maple festival but since I opened the sugaring business I've tried to use some of that volunteer time to get information about our products out there.”

“I did the same thing. The festival is a great way to create visibility and to network. Why do you think after all these years I still do it?”

“Is it worth it? Some years everything just seems to go wrong,” I said.

“You can say that again. When you are dealing with something so dependent on the weather sometimes there can be very little return on the investment of time.”

“Like the year the blizzard blew in for the entire weekend and left thirty-six inches of snow in town.”

“Or how about that time about ten years ago when
we had almost no snow to speak of and the temperatures that weekend reached into the upper sixties. We had to cancel about half the events because of a lack of snow.”

“And now with Spooner Duffy's body showing up a lot of people are talking about how that was the very worst year of them all.”

“Fifty years we've been holding this festival and that was the only time anything like that ever happened.”

“Didn't anyone ever think it might be dangerous to leave all that cash in the town hall instead of dropping it at the bank? Lowell said it was twelve thousand dollars.”

“It wasn't all cash. A goodly portion of what was raised was in the form of a check. We'd never had a theft like that before in Sugar Grove. I'm happy to say we've never had one since.”

“That might also be because the festival committee probably never waited until the next day to get around to depositing the money again.”

“Looking back, it does seem foolish. As soon as it happened I was pretty sure it was going to hurt my business when word got out about the theft.”

“What did it have to do with you? Obviously, you haven't run off.”

“No, but I was one of the few people who knew the money would be locked in the town clerk's desk drawer. I was worried no one would want to do business with the guy who was suspected of stealing from the library. Especially since it needed so much work.”

“Cliff mentioned the library was supposed to receive the funds that year.”

“That's right. The library was small and outdated. The town was divided just about in half over renovating the existing space or building something new.”

“So feelings must have been running high.”

“You should ask Priscilla about it. She was on the library board of trustees the year it all happened.”

Priscilla looked up from the mannequin she was swaddling in enough tulle to hide a minivan. Priscilla's shop was filled to bursting with everything from galvanized floral pails to beaded evening bags to well-cared-for antiques. I couldn't help but run my hand over the dull sheen of the cast-iron antique sewing machine she'd displayed right in the center of the shop.

Priscilla had placed a basket filled with daisies and lilies on the treadle below the wooden cabinet. A length of pale pink silk draped under the needle as if the seamstress had been called away mid-project.

“Dani! Have you decided to come in for that dress fitting you've been promising me?” I had promised no such thing but Priscilla had been trying to get me to order a wedding gown from her for the past ten years. I was barely old enough to get married even with a
parent's permission the first time she brought up my lack of a dress order. She hasn't failed to mention it every time she's seen me since.

“Actually, Priscilla, I brought Dani by about the apartment you have for rent,” Jim said.

“I see.” Priscilla paused. My guess was she was hoping I would fill in some details as to why I was interested in the apartment. Priscilla wasn't a gossip. I never heard her talking about anyone else but she certainly did listen and was always happy to tell you what she had heard about you. In my opinion it felt a bit like harassment and I wasn't sure I liked it any better than Myra's form of gossip.

“I told her it was still available.” Jim seemed unsettled by Priscilla's lack of enthusiasm at my interest in the apartment.

“That would depend entirely on who was looking for an apartment. I don't rent to unmarried couples. In my business there is no profit in encouraging that sort of thing. No profit at all.” Priscilla's face scrunched up as she gave her tongue a good clucking. Priscilla was all about the bottom line and I was betting that would get me the apartment, especially if I offered to pay a couple of extra months up front.

“Nothing like that. I'm actually looking because Jade has moved to town permanently. We are getting pretty cramped up now with the two of us sharing one small bedroom. Jim mentioned you had an apartment to rent so I wanted to come see it.”

“Darling Jade. I heard she was in town. Do you think
she'll be in to choose some more dresses for your niece for the pageant this year?” My mind's eye flashed on the image of Celadon pounding on the bathroom door, promising Spring a pony if she would just come out. I doubted very much there would be a repeat performance of last year's shenanigans.

“I'm sure she'll be eager to chat with you about it just as soon as she gets her feet under her at the shop.” In truth, it wouldn't matter what Jade talked with Priscilla about or even what she went ahead and bought. “Although I'm sure Celadon will want to take a look first and have the final say.”

“I expect the Little Miss Maple pageant will have come and gone before Celadon deigns to visit the shop for a look.” I heard Priscilla sniff. “Well, you aren't here to talk about your sister. Jim, you mind the store for me while I show Dani the space.” If Jim was surprised by Priscilla ordering him around, he didn't let on. He simply nodded and took up a position behind the checkout counter.

I followed Priscilla to a warped wooden door in the back room of the shop. It was all she could do to tug it open even with the way heating systems tend to make doors fit more loosely in their casings in the winter.

Priscilla managed to heave the door open then motioned for me to follow her up a narrow stairway with a pitch that was more like a ladder than a stairwell. I had a hard time believing Frances had lasted as long as she had with such a climb ahead of her every time she arrived home.

“I'm not sure what you're looking for but it is furnished and heat is included. Speaking frankly, I'll be glad of the rent money. With the economic downturn people just aren't spending like they used to on flowers. Or on wedding dresses for that matter.” Priscilla gave me a pointed look. “I've heard you've been spending a lot of time with that game warden from out of town lately. You aren't thinking of tying the knot soon, are you?”

“They're called conservation officers now and since he hasn't proposed I think it'll be a while before I need a wedding dress.” Not that I'd be buying one anywhere. My mother was an enthusiastic and accomplished seamstress. She had made both of Celadon's wedding dresses and would be heartbroken if she didn't make one for me, too, if the time ever came.

“I suppose it's just as well. With your size we'd have to look for something from the flower girl collection anyway. Not nearly as profitable.” I had to wonder if Priscilla ever listened to herself. The drop-off in her business might have had more to do with her propensity to offend customers than the state of the economy. “Well, here it is. Take a look for yourself.” She pushed open another door at the top of the stairs.

I stepped into a living room and dining room combination. Set into a bay window sat a chintz-covered love seat. Built-in bookcases with glossy white paint lined one wall. Hobnail plant pots with ferns filled a white-painted whatnot shelf and a cheerful embroidered dresser scarf festooned a small end table.

“And through here is the bedroom.” A white iron double bed covered in a seafoam green chenille bedspread and chintz throw pillows sat tucked under the eaves.

I was delighted by how cozy and pleasant she had made the space. Everything was built on a small scale. I felt completely at home. “And over here is the kitchenette and the bathroom.” I followed her to the back of the apartment.

The kitchen was too small for both of us to fit in together so I entered alone in order to peek into the cupboards and the diminutive fridge. Vintage china and glassware filled the shelves. At the end of a short run of pink-tiled countertop sat the tiniest range oven I had ever seen.

Off the kitchen was a three-quarter bath with tile that matched the kitchen. Everything was tiny and cute as a button. I felt as though the apartment had been made just for me. As I stood in the living room once more I was seized by an overwhelming desire to rent the place.

“This space is truly charming.” Priscilla's cheeks pinked and she smiled at me for the first time I could remember.

“That's sweet of you to say. Frances always said she thought of this as a life-size dollhouse.”

“That's it exactly. I can see why she was here for so many years. I expect she misses it terribly.”

“She does. But not as much as I miss her. I used to come up and have lunch with her almost every day after she retired from the bank. I checked on her most
evenings, too, before I went home. I wasn't sure I had wanted to rent to anyone new but I don't think I'll be able to keep making the mortgage payments if I leave it empty. Besides, Jim convinced me it would be good to have someone else in the building again.”

“I hadn't realized you and Frances were so close. She must have been good company.”

“We were and she still is. I drive out to Dappled Oaks two or three times a week to take her books or some homemade treats.” I was seeing a whole new side of Priscilla, one that was far nicer than the one I was used to seeing.

“That's really thoughtful of you.”

“Dappled Oaks has a lot of amenities but a decent library isn't one of them.”

“From what I've been hearing around town we're lucky to have a library that isn't worse than the one at Dappled Oaks. Jim mentioned on the way over here that you've been a library trustee almost ever since the year the fund-raiser money went missing along with Spooner Duffy.” Priscilla pursed her lips and looked a lot more like the woman I was accustomed to encountering.

“That was not one of our finer moments as a community. But in the end it all turned out all right.”

“Not for Spooner, it didn't,” I said.

“Not for the library trustees either. To be honest, I thought before it was all over Cliff Thompson would have a stroke.”

“He told me it was a difficult job.”

“He thought it was. He didn't manage to last for
another term. All the fallout from the robbery was too much for him to take, I guess. Life can really be hard sometimes.” She looked around the living room again, slowly shaking her head and straightening a throw tossed on the back of the love seat.

I could imagine myself sitting tucked up on the small sofa with Graham on the other end, a small, scruffy dog seated between us. In my imaginings we were carrying on a conversation with no one dropping in to see if he had popped the question. The vision I had created for myself was so appealing I heard myself speaking before I thought.

“Do you allow pets?”

“Frances had a dog for years. It wasn't any trouble, so I can't imagine why I'd object to you having one as long as it's small.”

“You know, this is such a nice place I'd like to sign a six-month lease right now.”

“Well, I suppose it would be all right. I'd much rather rent the place to someone I already know. I wouldn't want some stranger in here living above my store.”

Jim called up from the bottom of the stairs to ask how I liked the apartment and if we'd made a deal. Priscilla jumped like she was a triple-bypass survivor caught with her mouth full and a half-eaten block of cheese in her hands.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I'm just very easily startled. I have been ever since I was a small girl. I get so focused on one thing that anything else coming into my attention takes me
completely by surprise.” Priscilla stood there immobilized, her trembling hand pressed at the base of her throat.

“Do you need some water?”

“I'll be fine in just a moment. No need to make a fuss.” Priscilla held on to my arm as she led me out of the apartment and started down the stairs. “The more I think about it the happier I am that you'll be moving in here. In fact, the sooner, the better.”

“What do you mean by soon?”

“Today, if it suits you. I'll just need first and last months' rent and a security deposit.”

“That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say. I've got my checkbook right here.” I dug into my purse and prepared to fill out a check for the first time in ages. Priscilla told me the expected total and then looked my check over carefully.

“I'll go get you the keys,” she said. “And I'll make you out a receipt. You can never be too careful about the bookkeeping.” Priscilla was meticulous about everything as far as I could tell. Her clothing had creases ironed into all the right places, her shoes could put your eyes out from the shine beaming off them, and her window displays were changed every Monday morning even if Monday happened to fall in the middle of a blizzard.

“Perfect.” I stood there thinking about what I had just gotten myself into. On the one hand I was feeling that flutter of excitement that comes with a new venture. The world felt full of possibilities and opportunities.

On the other, I was not looking forward to telling the
family that I was moving out. They might be pleased for me and they might feel hurt. Probably, the reactions would be a mix of both. Priscilla returned, an old-fashioned two-part carbon copy receipt in one hand, a set of keys in the other.

“Here you go. It's all official and aboveboard just the way the taxman likes it. You can't be too careful, you know. If there's one thing a small business doesn't want to be ill-prepared for, it's an audit.” Priscilla raised her hand to her throat again and looked around like she worried a government official might pop out from a corner.

“I know just what you mean. I'm very careful with all the paperwork at Greener Pastures. When I started the syrup business, that's one of the reasons I wanted to have an office in the sugarhouse instead of in the den at the farmhouse. The paperwork kept getting moved around and mixed up.”

“Oh, you poor, poor thing. I had no idea.” Priscilla placed a reassuring hand on my arm. “If you need to store some things here to keep them safe you are welcome to do so.”

“I think I'll run the risk of leaving everything at the farm for now. There doesn't seem to be a lot of room in the apartment.”

“Well, no, there isn't. But the apartment only takes up a small portion of the second floor. The rest is all storage. Frances used it and you're welcome to as well, but be careful. The floor's a bit rickety in spots. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got to get back to work.”