Heather Webber - Digging Up Trouble

“Did you do the bathroom too?” I asked, amazed. I started forward to get a better look.

My mother dashed in front of me, blocked the entrance.

I hadn’t known she could move so fast. Usually she walked with a slow casualness that drove me nuts.

“Um, well—” My mother rarely stuttered. “We thought it needed updating also.”

I tried to peer over her shoulder. “Anything is better than Aunt Chi-Chi’s old wallpaper.”

It had truly been hideous, teal and navy flowers.

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“Yes, well . . .”

I stood on tiptoes, suddenly suspicious. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? What could be wrong?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who won’t let me see.”

She brushed a lock of blonde hair off her forehead, swept it back with a practiced grace. “It’s simply not done yet.”

I made a move to peek over her shoulder, but ducked at the last minute under her rigid arm and pushed my way into my bathroom.

Or what was left of my bathroom.

“Oh. My.”

“It’s not so bad, chérie. ”

I looked around at the big gaping holes in my walls.

Everything was . . .

Worthy of a state of emergency declaration.

The tub was pulled away from the wall, the showerhead and tiles gone. My vanity sat in the middle of the floor, which no longer had any linoleum on it. The sink was filled with dust, and the plumbing, the pipes, and doodads I didn’t know the names of stuck out of the wall.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It all started with the wallpaper. It tore the plaster from the wall when we took it off. The plasterer we called told us it wasn’t worth restoring and suggested we gut it and replace it with drywall. The demo crew will be here tomorrow.”

The demo crew. Here. Tomorrow.

“When will they be done?”

“Good things are worth waiting for, chérie. ”

Ugh!

Absently, I wondered who was paying for all this, and de -

cided I’d jump that hurdle later.

For now, my thoughts of a hot relaxing shower vanished faster than Riley when I’d brought up the topic of safe sex.

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“Don’t look so forlorn. There is another bathroom in the house.”

Riley’s.

I shuddered.

Forcing myself to remember that my mother had only been trying to do something nice for me, I mustered up a smile. “I’m sure it will look really nice.”

She kissed both my cheeks, yawned and said, “I’m going home now.”

To see my father. Who’d undoubtedly fill her in on my nighttime adventure.

I saw her off, called Maria and left a thank-you message on her voice mail, and quickly took a shower in Riley’s bathroom, trying not to feel displaced.

The phone rang as I was slipping into a clean pair of shorts.

“Hey,” Bobby said.

I sighed. I couldn’t help myself. His voice did that to me.

It was a totally feminine reaction I hated, but it wasn’t to be helped. And it almost—almost—made me forget all about my legal problems and construction woes.

“Hi,” I said.

“Sleep well?”

Well enough considering Ana hogged covers and tended to throw elbows while she slept.

But he didn’t need to know all that right now. I’d fill him in later. “Good. You?”

“I was lonely,” he said in a way that heated my blood.

For some reason, I kept hearing faint strains of “Are You Lonesome Tonight” in my head. “Oh?”

“Is that all I get? An ‘oh’?”

I should maybe tell him how I’d had to sit down because my knees had gone weak at the thoughts of me and him, him and me in my new bed. “It’s a good oh,” I said.

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“Is there such a thing?”

“Definitely.”

I heard a smile in his voice as he said, “I’ll keep that in mind. How’s your schedule?” he asked. “Is lunch a possibility?”

I’ve got something important to ask you.

I chewed a fingernail.

“Nina?”

I’d have to deal with it sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. Right?

I eyed my fingernails, looking for a jagged edge. Sooner just wasn’t working for me. I needed a little more time. “I’ve actually got to work this afternoon.” Which was true, so I didn’t feel the least bit guilty.

Okay, a little guilty.

“How about dinner?”

Dinner sometimes led to dessert. And nightcaps. And big fluffy beds. “Sounds good.”

We agreed to a time, and I hung up, feeling slightly queasy yet excited at the same time. I knew I had to head into work, but if I was to be using Riley’s bathroom for the fore-seeable future, it needed to be cleaned. Scrubbed, actually.

As I gathered up supplies, I couldn’t help but remember that cleaning the bathrooms had been Kevin’s household chore. I’d loved that about him.

Loved.

Love?

Don’t think about it, I told myself. Over and over.

I threw myself into scrubbing, trying to figure out what to do about Greta Grabinsky.

Did she want me to finish the yard or not? In her current state of mind, I’d have to say no. But if a foreclosure lawsuit was pending, did she have a choice?

Had the lawsuit been dropped as the man in her kitchen 118

Heather Webber

insinuated? I wondered how I could find out, and decided to check with Kate Hathaway, the Fallow Falls HOA president.

She’d know one way or another.

Thank goodness I’d already been paid for the job.

No refunds.

Not that I could see Bill and Lindsey asking for one. Not after all they put me through.

I’d decided not to sue them unless I was sued by Greta.

Unlike the Fallow Falls community, I wasn’t lawsuit happy.

But I could hold a grudge. And I did against the Lockharts. They’d out and out used me.

But hadn’t you used them? my inner voice asked.

No.

Maybe.

Kinda-sorta.

Okay, so I’d wanted to know about Kevin’s first wife . . .

That wasn’t a crime. I’d still planned to do a good job for them.

And look where it’d landed me. With a pending lawsuit, possible murder charges, and no information—nada, zip, nothing—on Leah Quinn.

I finished the bathroom, tidied up, locked the house. As I backed out of my driveway on my way to work, I saw Mr.

Cabrera watering his flower beds. Boom-Boom sat on his front step, keeping him company.

She apparently hadn’t heard about Mr. Cabrera’s curse yet.

Brickhouse would be thrilled to pieces.

Speaking of Brickhouse, I needed to mentally prepare myself for her gloating. I’d planned to visit Tam sometime during the day. I couldn’t imagine it was any fun being in the hospital all day with nothing to do. And though she and Ian were now living together, she didn’t have any family in the area. Thankfully, I had plenty to spare, and I made a quick Digging Up Trouble

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call to my mother, who would have Tam surrounded by lasagnas and bear hugs before sunset.

TBS was locked tight when I got there. The chimes still hung from the door, but they didn’t sound as harmonious as before. I plucked a boxwood stem from one of the pipes and went to check my messages.

There were six from Deanna, who apparently was having a panic attack over her solo job today. Thankfully, Kit would be there to keep her sane.

As I popped open a Dr Pepper, I wondered if Deanna really had a crush on Kit or if she was just playing with him. I hoped it was the latter, because Deanna was young and sweet and I didn’t want her to have a broken heart.

I sat at my desk, answered relevant e-mails, deleted spam, except for the ad for hair growth, which I forwarded to Kit’s e-mail. He’d appreciate the joke, I was sure.