Bobby Hutchinson - The Family Solution

“Go, Bella.” Niki gave her a thumbs-up. “Repressed anger leads to illness, and you don’t want that.”

“It was an accident.” Bella scowled at Charlie. “You don’t have a concussion, and I patched you up. So you can go now.”

Niki went over to him and stroked her finger over his bandaged wound. “Did you know she got a big chunk of your hair trapped inside the tape? Here, let me fix that for you.”

“Niki, for cripes sake, lay off, would you? You can’t take him home—Tom won’t like it.”

Niki sighed dramatically. “Sometimes marriage is very limiting.” She undid the tape and tenderly freed the hair. “You married, Charlie?”

“Divorced.”

“Kids?”

“One daughter. Emma’s twenty.”

“Which makes you what, forty something? You don’t look forty something.” Niki gave him a serious look as she patted the bandage back in place. “You don’t look a day over thirty. Eight.”

“Forty-four.” He grinned, obviously pleased with his view down the front of Niki’s dress. He had a pirate’s grin, Bella thought. That is, if pirates had good dental plans. But then, real-estate salesmen were pirates, weren’t they?

He said, “To misquote a famous lady, this is what forty-four looks like.”

Niki nodded. “Good old Germaine. What’s become of her, anyway?”

“She got herself married,” Bella said. “And there went another feminist.”

“Oh, marriage is no deterrent to feminism,” Niki said. Finished with her Florence Nightingale act, she wandered over to the cupboard and took down two mugs. “What’s your daughter’s name again, Charlie?”

“Emma. She’s in her second year at the University of British Columbia and she wants to be a doctor.”

“That’s encouraging. We need more women doctors, don’t we, Bella? There are some things only a woman understands.” Niki filled the mugs with coffee and handed him one.

“He can’t stay,” Bella said, reaching for the mug a moment too late. He eluded her and took a hefty sip.

“I’m not in any hurry,” he said. “Good coffee. Got any cream?”

Niki got a box out of the fridge, adding some cream to her own coffee before she handed it to him. She got two spoons out and gave one to him. They stirred companionably.

She said, “So what kind of career move is that, going from copping to real estate?”

“Not lateral, I’ll tell you that.” For the first time, Bella could sense he was uneasy. His grin faltered. “So what do you do, Niki?”

“Hair. Nails. On really bad days, bikini waxing.” She shuddered. “Yuck. And on the other end of the scale, brows and lashes. Didn’t you like being a cop?”

Bella gave up and waited for his answer. Trying to stop Niki was like trying to stop a tank. She’d just roll on until he’d told her everything she wanted to know.

“I liked it fine. It was just time for a career move.”

Niki nodded. “Midlife crisis, huh?”

“I guess you could call it that.” He downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp and got to his feet. “I hate to drink and run, but duty calls.” He gave Bella a wink. “I know you’re dying for me to stay, but I have other unfortunate souls to harass.”

“Important work. Don’t let us keep you.” She was on her feet in an instant.

“Interesting meeting you again, Ms. Monroe. A real pleasure, Niki.”

“Likewise.” She gave him a seductive smile. “And for God’s sake, call her Bella. Ms. Monroe smacks way too much of Marilyn, and we don’t need that much drama when we’re trying to clean up a house.”

Niki paid absolutely no attention to Bella’s glares, and fluttered her perfectly manicured hand at Charlie, who saluted and ambled toward the door.

Bella waited until it closed behind him before she got herself a fresh coffee and slumped on her stool.

“God spare me from any more real-estate vultures.”

“He said you knew him. Where from?”

“I made the colossal mistake the other day of going into Fredricks Real Estate, over on Dunbar. I thought they might give me some suggestions about selling this place myself, like what price to ask. Instead, they unleashed every salesperson in their office on me, all trying to change my mind and list with them. He’s just the latest one. And you weren’t exactly helpful. Why were you so friendly?”

Niki clucked her tongue. “Bella, Bella. You’re a single lady now and he’s a distinct maybe. He’s available, doesn’t strike me as a serial killer, doesn’t reek of liquor, has a job, good teeth and presumably other working body parts, to say nothing of a sense of humor. But you’ve got to change your attitude, honey. You catch more flies with sugar, my dear old Granny Ruthie used to say.”

“You didn’t have a dear old granny. Ruthie was a mean old woman who used to dose us with that awful worm medicine and send us out to buy her cigarettes, remember? She never even let us keep the change. We hated her.”

“Figure of speech. That weasel in the corner store sold them to us, too. He’d never get away with that these days. What I’m trying to get across to you, sweetie, is that you’re not going to find eligible men hanging off lilac bushes, y’know. You have to be a little friendlier. Men like friendlier. And sexy. I don’t want to criticize, but that paint all over your arms and neck doesn’t do a thing for you—it’s in your hair, too. Come over and collect your birthday present, because you need a new do. And at the moment, you’re bordering on anorexic. Aren’t you eating?”

Bella put her cup down—one accident a day with coffee was enough. She leaned toward her friend. “Niki. Read my lips. Gordon left me ten days ago, I have debts you wouldn’t believe, my kids are acting out, to put it mildly and my mother is threatening to arrive at the door any minute.”

“I thought Mae was happy over there in Blue Hair Haven, or whatever it’s called.”

“She was, until I told her about Gordon. Now she doesn’t think I’m capable of raising Josh and Kelsey on my own, and figures we ought to pool resources, seeing that we’re both abandoned women. As if I need any more suggestions about decorating and single parenting, or snide remarks about how I drove Gordon away by being a short-tempered shrew.”

Niki shook her head. “You? Testy, maybe. What did she give you for your birthday?” Mae’s inappropriate gifts had always made them both laugh.

“She outdid herself.” Bella opened the catch-all drawer and pulled out a thick book. “Ta-da.”

Niki took it. The Dummy’s Guide to Living Well? She snorted, and then erupted into giggles. “She has outdone herself this time.”

Bella had to smile. “I thought so. The Dummy’s Guide to Poverty might have been a wiser choice.” She grew sober, remembering how close she was to bankruptcy. “I had no idea how much in debt we are. Gordon was an accountant, and he was supposed to be managing the money. Instead, he’d let the house mortgage lapse, the lease on the store is three months in arrears and our overdraft is maxed out. The business is in the toilet, and there’s nothing to do but shut it down. I have to somehow sell off what stock I can and get this place in good enough shape to sell. And I have to do it all fast, because I have no money.”

“You didn’t tell Charlie boy that, I hope? Because guys tend to get a wee bit nervous if you mention money right off the bat.”

“Of course I didn’t.” Actually, Bella wasn’t too sure what she’d said to him. She was pretty much nuts these days, and not responsible for what came out of her mouth. “Anyhow, there is no way I want anything to do with another man unless he’s a filthy rich plumber slash handyman slash landscape gardener, who loves to paint and has his own home.” She ran out of breath and gulped. “So no more men. Not now, and probably not ever.”