Chapter 29
Dear Sophie,
My family loves to eat Chinese takeout with everyone trying all the dishes. But it grosses me out when my brother licks his chopsticks and then sticks them in the carton to serve himself more food. Eww. I say he should use a serving spoon for that. Don’t you agree?
Smart Sister in China, Texas
Dear Smart Sister,
Tell your brother that the thick ends of his chopsticks are for helping himself to food. The thin ends are for eating.
Sophie
“Gosh, I’m sure that’s illegal,” I said drolly.
“Don’t you see? That’s why I’m sitting on your couch and Jericho has my job. Jericho knows Wesley’s secret.”
“Do you think Jericho is blackmailing Wesley?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Don’t underestimate Mars Winston. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“And I shall take Daisy for a nice long walk. Thanks for doing the dishes.”
I locked the kitchen door behind us when we left. As we strolled I noticed a lightpost with chalk on it. I slowed down, not wanting to be too obvious. Was there another person marking posts in Old Town? Or was that Benton’s handiwork again?
A teenage boy walked past me. He glanced back and grinned. I didn’t think he was smiling at me. He had a sweet boyish face with brown eyes. A curl of his unruly golden brown hair flopped onto his forehead. He turned around and ambled along the sidewalk.
I was enjoying the fall decorations. It seemed as if everyone was eager to leave summer behind. Daisy and I crossed the street and watched the same teen boy pause to eye the decorative pumpkins and dried cornstalks.
He walked up to a gatepost. A tall urn, very much like Nina’s, stood beside it.
I stopped walking to observe him.
He stared at the urn briefly before lifting a small yellow pumpkin. He snatched something from the urn, replaced the pumpkin, and strolled away.
I debated whether to shout at him. Part of me thought I should stop him, but part of me wondered what a flower urn could possibly hold that he would want.
Before I could decide, he rounded the corner and disappeared.
I hurried forward for a better look at the urn. It had a wide top. Two plants of orange mums filled the back, and on the front, straw acted as a support for the small pumpkin he had lifted. It was distinctive because of a thick and curiously curling dried vine attached to the top. I raised it. Nothing was underneath it. I flipped over the pumpkin. It looked perfectly ordinary.
I replaced the pumpkin and gazed around. Nothing appeared to be out of place or unusual. What was that about? Daisy and I walked to the corner. Numerous people went about their business, but there was no sign of the boy.
Still wondering what he had been doing, I strolled over to Eunice’s house. The front door was open, so Daisy and I walked inside. The area to my left, formerly the dining room, looked like a demolition zone. I was pleased to see they hadn’t ripped out the beautiful old moldings.
“May I help you?”
The man’s voice came from behind and startled me. By the time I turned around, he was already squatting to pet Daisy.
“I’m Sophie, a friend of Eunice’s and Francie’s. I hope you don’t mind. I saw the door was open and thought I’d check on your progress.”
He rose to his feet and shook my hand. He had a firm grip but rough hands that let me know he did a lot of the work himself. He wore his hair cut short. Muscles strained against the short sleeves of his shirt. “Cal Simons. They said you might stop by. You’re interested in renovating a bathroom?”
“I am. Maybe you could come by sometime and have a look?”
“I’d be happy to do that.”
He pulled a tiny well-worn pad from his pocket and wrote my address. “As you can see, we’re converting the dining room into a dual-use room. Eunice can use it as a bedroom and bathroom if she prefers to live on one floor. If she decides to sleep upstairs or sell the house, it can be used as an office or a dining room.”
I followed him into a framed area.
“This will be the bathroom with a shower she can roll a wheelchair or a walker into.”
I was doubtful. “Won’t the water splash out?”
He grinned. “They made this great material that compresses under wheels but pops right back up to keep water from running out. She can have shower doors if she wants, but I usually recommend curtains for my elderly clients. They’re easier to keep clean, and doors can get in the way. They’re difficult if you’re in a wheelchair.”
“Sounds like you’ve done this a few times.”
“I think my name is being passed around among older residents. I love these old houses, but they’re tough if you can’t negotiate stairs.”
“Francie mentioned an elevator?”
“We’re waiting on approval for it.” He motioned for me to follow him. “I think we can fit it right here. She wouldn’t lose too much space. I hope it works out. It would give her full use of the house. No more sleeping in the recliner unless she wants to nap there.”
“I’m very impressed.”
“So is Francie. She wants me to come over and enlarge her first-floor bedroom with a bathroom like Eunice will be getting.”
“I have a feeling you’ll be spending quite a bit of time on our block this fall.”
“I might. You haven’t even seen the best part.”
He led me through the kitchen and out to the back patio. “We’re getting rid of the stairs and creating an elevated deck so Eunice can come outside and get some fresh air without being afraid of falling. See where the deck box is?”
“Behind the two chairs?”
“Exactly. Right about there, it will serpentine downward to the garage and gate so she can get to her car, or someone like Francie can come to pick her up and go out on the town. And it will all be smooth concrete. No more uneven brick to trip on. Francie plans to plant some perennials that won’t need much attention around the sides. Life will look a little different for Eunice when we’re done here.”
I shuddered to imagine what it would all cost. But it would restore Eunice’s way of life and enable her to live in her beloved home for many more years. No one could put a price on that.
When I left, I looked forward to hearing Cal’s ideas for my bathroom. He seemed like a knowledgeable guy.
Daisy and I continued our walk, this time in the direction of Fred’s house. I didn’t want him to think I was snooping, even though I was. I should have asked Benton for tips on how to look innocent while spying. I observed Fred’s house from the corner, far enough away not to seem intrusive. We crossed the street, and when we reached the alley behind his house, we turned and ambled along as though we were simply out for a walk. Which was actually the truth. I didn’t expect to see anything of particular interest.
A fence enclosed his backyard and I couldn’t see anything. But I could see the second story of his house. It was unremarkable, as plain as the interior.
It wasn’t as though I had expected to see anything sinister. Not everyone was warm and fuzzy, I reasoned. Maybe he was just a private sort of guy. I wondered if he had been over to the hospital to see Charlene.