Cynthia Thomason - Your House or Mine?

“How long will she sleep?” Meg asked.

“Not long. She catnaps all day.”

The nurse was right. After a few minutes, Amelia wakened. She looked around the room and reached for the television remote on a cord dangling from the bed. Before she turned the set on, she regarded Meg with the same distant look she’d had earlier. “Hello. Did you bring my supper?”

Meg smiled. “No, but I’ll see that you get it soon.”

“Thank you.” Amelia turned on the set and tuned Meg out. Meg smoothed her palm along the wisps of snow-white hair on her aunt’s forehead, whispered good-night and left the room. Tomorrow she would try again.

NORMALLY MEG DIDN’T talk on her cell phone while she was operating a car, but when she left Shady Grove, her desire to connect with her son was greater than her code of responsible driving. Besides, she’d only passed two cars in the mile she’d traveled back toward town. She pressed the speed dial to her home phone number.

“Hey, sis,” Jerry said. “How’s it going up there?”

Meg covered her disappointment that Spencer hadn’t answered with a cheerful greeting to her brother. “Hi, Jerry. Truthfully, it’s been quite a day.”

“I’ll bet. How’s Aunt Amelia doing?”

“She’s quite frail. And not thinking all that clearly.” That was an understatement. “How’s Spence? Did you remember to pick him up at the neighbor’s?”

“Nope. Completely forgot. Good thing the kid stole a car and drove himself home.”

Meg sighed, hating herself just a little. Of course Jerry wouldn’t forget to pick up Spence. She was going to have to quit treating her brother as if he were the ten-year-old and show more confidence in him. “I’m sorry, Jerry. I never should have suggested that you might forget.”

“No, probably not, but I know you, so the assumption was expected…and forgiven.”

She heard her son’s voice in the background. “Hey, Uncle Jerry, can I have another hot dog?”

“Hot dogs?” Meg said. “You’re having hot dogs for dinner? I left a turkey meat loaf in the refrigerator.”

“No offense, Meggie, but isn’t that an oxymoron using turkey and meat together in the same sentence?”

Meg could picture her brother’s teasing grin.

“Besides, Spence and I are bonding,” he continued. “You need guy food to do that—good old-fashioned frankfurters.” Before Meg could respond, Jerry said, “Hey, kid, back off on the Easy Cheese.”

She rolled her eyes and decided it was best to adopt the philosophy that a short-term lack of nutrition probably never killed anyone.

“So you had a bad day?” Jerry said.

“Not the best. A few surprises, not the least of which was the presence of a man at the house when I got there.”

Jerry hooted. “Aunt Amelia has a boyfriend?”

“No, you idiot. This was a much younger man, the deputy sheriff of Mount Esther by the way. He’s probably not much older than I am.”

Jerry laughed again. “So you found a boyfriend? Fast work, and it’s about time. Two years is long enough to go dateless.”

“Why do I bother talking to you?”

“Because I’m the only one you know who talks about nothing of any importance, and it’s a nice change of pace.”

“Maybe you’re right. Anyway, the deputy claims Amelia sold Ashford House to him a few weeks ago.”

“Whoa! No way. The house is yours, isn’t it?”

“Yes, at least I think so.” She hated the edge of doubt in her answer and quickly amended her statement. “Of course it is. This is obviously just a big mistake. All I have to do is find the deed, and…”

“Right,” Jerry said. “You’ll straighten it out, I know you will.” Typical of Jerry, he changed the subject before he might actually be called upon to give advice or listen to someone else’s problems. “Speaking of boyfriends…”

“Which we weren’t, really.”

“Well, no, but a girl came in today. Real cute. I’d call her definite girlfriend potential for your baby brother.”

“What did she want?”

“She has a business proposition. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. The brainiac is reaching for the phone.”

The words business proposition immediately translated into harebrained scheme in Meg’s mind. “Jerry, don’t you let a pretty face—”

“Hi, Mom!”

Tension ebbed from Meg’s shoulders at the sound of her son’s voice, and she relegated the solving of another problem to tomorrow’s already crowded list. “Hi, honey, how are you?” she asked. “Tell me all about school today.”

MEG BLEW A KISS into the phone and disconnected the call as she drove up the path to Ashford House. The sun was setting, sculpting the old home in rose-gold shadows that transformed the faded paint with a renewed glow. In contrast, the skeletal shadows cast by the tallest tree branches swayed across the roof peaks and porch eaves. Meg had never spent even one night alone in the house, and suddenly that didn’t seem like the most appealing idea. And then she saw two cars parked in the driveway. One of them belonged to Wade Murdock, and Meg’s apprehension eased.

She pulled to the back and parked. The deputy acknowledged her arrival with a brief wave and returned to tightening the girth on the saddle of a chestnut horse. A young girl walked under the animal’s neck and stared at Meg’s car.

Meg stepped out of the car and watched the exchange between Wade and the girl. He pointed in Meg’s direction and appeared to be explaining her presence. The girl chewed on her bottom lip and nodded a couple of times. Meg wondered if the deputy was describing her to his child as the wicked witch who’d come to ruin their dreams of home ownership.

Sensing movement to her right, Meg’s attention was captured by an elderly man who stood up from the washtub where she had sat earlier. He approached the two by the horse. If this was a delegation of Murdocks intent on challenging her right to be at Ashford House, then Meg was sorely outnumbered.

She walked to the threesome prepared to defend her position. “You still here?” she said unnecessarily to Wade.

“Actually I’m back,” he answered. “I left for a while to check the traffic out on the highway and just returned so my daughter could ride while we still have some daylight.” Noticing that the girl had her foot in the stirrup and was staring at him expectantly, he hoisted her into the saddle. “Jenny, this is Miss Hamilton,” he said once she’d wiggled into position on the horse.

The girl swept her long black hair over one shoulder and peered down at Meg with eyes that Meg now noticed were as dark and haunting as her father’s. “Hi.”

Still uncertain how she’d been portrayed to the Murdock family, Meg said simply, “Nice to meet you.”

“And this is my father, Roone Murdock,” Wade said, indicating the man who stood with his back slightly bent and one elbow on the horse’s rump. The elderly man extended his free hand and she shook it.

“We’ll be out of your hair in a half hour or so,” Wade said. “Just as soon as Jenny has a quick ride and we get Lady Jay put back in her stall for the night.”

Jenny stared hard at Meg and then shot a glance at the house. “How long you planning to stay?” she asked.

Sensing that Jenny was fishing for a response of only a few days, Meg shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m here to take care of my aunt, Mrs. Ashford. She’s…”

“Yeah, I know all about her,” the girl said. “I know that you—”

Wade distracted his daughter by handing her the reins. “Go on now, Jen. Just down to the river and back and into the side yard.” Roone moved aside and Wade patted the horse’s backside sending the animal off at a slow walk. “Nothing too fast or too fancy, you hear me?” When horse and rider had moved away, he said to Meg, “She doesn’t know the whole story, just an abbreviated one.”