We stepped out into the parking lot. “So you’re doing this because you’re trained as an EMT?” I asked.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he said with a shrug. “But I actually took a course in St. Louis.” He narrowed his gaze. “Mom didn’t tell you.”
“She left out a few details.”
Nick shook his head. “She wanted me to take the teaching job. And she still has this fantasy that I’ll go to med school eventually.” He pulled a hand back through his hair. “She likes the sound of my son the doctor.”
“She just wants you to be happy,” I said, as we stepped outside.
He smiled. “I am.” He still had that great mischievous little-boy smile, but I could see lines etched into the skin around his eyes. “How about dinner sometime down at Sam’s? We can catch up.” The smile widened into a grin. “And maybe it’ll get my mother to stop asking not so subtle questions about my love life.”
I smiled back at him. “Somehow I don’t think it’ll work, but dinner sometime would be nice.”
“I’ll call you, then.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “Have a good night, Sarah,” he said, and then he headed for the street.
I went back inside. I found Elvis in my office, sitting next to my bag. “Ready to go home?” I asked.
“Meow,” he said, and then he licked his whiskers in case it hadn’t occurred to me that he was hungry.
Elvis rode shotgun all the way home. In the few months I’d had the cat I’d discovered that he liked riding around in the truck. It made me wonder what his past life had been like. When I’d driven him back to the shop from Sam’s after he’d become my cat, I couldn’t help laughing at the way he’d watched the traffic at every stop sign and how he’d twisted to look over his shoulder as I backed into my parking spot.
When I pulled into the driveway he jumped out of the truck without waiting for me to lift him off the seat and headed for the backyard. “Supper’s in about fifteen minutes,” I called after him.
He meowed in acknowledgment and kept going.
I gathered the mail and I let myself into the house. Standing in the entryway I found myself wishing Gram was upstairs in her apartment instead of in a van somewhere in the wilds of eastern Canada.
My house was an 1860s Victorian that had been divided into three apartments probably thirty-plus years ago. It had been let go when I bought it, but I could see that it had good bones. Liam, my dad, and I had done almost all of the work on my main-floor apartment and Gram’s second-floor one. My mom had helped me decorate with yard-sale chic. The third small apartment at the back of the house still needed a little more work. It was where my parents or Liam stayed when they came to visit.
The house had been an incredibly good deal and for a while I’d told myself that’s why I’d bought it: as an investment. But really North Harbor was the place that most felt like home to me and deep down I’d always known it was where I’d end up.
I unlocked the apartment door and dropped my things on one of the high-backed stools at the kitchen counter. Then I opened the refrigerator door, hoping that somehow it had become magically filled with food. It hadn’t.
I didn’t feel like another egg and tomato sandwich for supper. I wanted to sit at the round wooden table in Gram’s green-and-white kitchen and eat meat loaf with mashed potatoes or baked beans and brown bread. And I really, really wanted to talk to her about Maddie.
I looked at my watch. That I could do. But first I needed to let Elvis in. I found him sitting on the small verandah by the side door. There was a dried leaf stuck to his tail and a prickly brown burdock clinging to the fur on the middle of his back.
“Hang on,” I said, as he tried to make his way around me. He made annoyed sounds low in his throat but he stood still, tail flicking through the air, as I worked the little spiky ball from his fur. “If you’d stay out of that back corner of the yard you wouldn’t get these things in your fur,” I said, for maybe the tenth time. “Why are you back there, anyway?”
He licked his lips.
“Well, in that case you don’t need any supper.”
He didn’t even dignify my comment with a snippy meow; he just headed for the kitchen and I managed to grab the dead leaf from his tail as he went by. My kitchen, living room and dining room were one big, open space with tons of light from the double bay windows at the front of the house. The bedroom overlooked the backyard, which would have been nothing but grass if it hadn’t been for Gram and her friends. Instead I had a raised flower bed full of perennials and two hanging baskets by the back door.
I followed Elvis to the kitchen and gave him his dinner and a fresh bowl of water. Then I wandered in the living room, dropped onto the sofa and reached for the phone.
Gram answered on the third ring. “Hello, sweet girl,” she said.
I couldn’t help smiling at the sound of her voice. “Hi, Gram,” I said, “How was your day?”
“Wonderful. I had the best blueberry pancakes I’ve ever eaten. I wish you’d been here.”
“I wish I were there, too,” I said, tucking my feet up underneath me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I took the elastic out of my hair and shook out the braid. “How do you do that?” I said.
“Grandmother’s intuition,” she said. “What is it?”
I sighed, softly. “It’s not me. It’s . . . do you know Maddie’s gentleman friend?”
“Arthur,” she said. “I’ve met him twice, I think.” I could hear the caution mixed with curiosity in her voice.
“I’m sorry, Gram,” I said. “He’s dead.”
“Oh, my word,” she said. “Poor Maddie.” I heard her turn to John and repeat what I’d just said. “What happened?” she asked when she came back to the phone. “Was it an accident? Did he have a heart attack?”
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly and gave her the short version of what had happened. About halfway through my explanation Elvis wandered in, jumped up on my lap and laid his head on my chest as though he was listening to me breathing.
“Are you all right?” Gram asked.
“I am,” I said. Just talking to her made me feel better. “And Maddie is with Charlotte.”
“What can I do?” I could hear her moving around and guessed that she was looking for a piece of paper and something to write with. That was Gram. Whenever something was wrong the first thing she did was look for a pencil and make a list.
I put one arm around Elvis and stretched out my legs. He tipped his head and his green eyes looked up at me. I started to stroke his fur and he closed them and began to purr. “There really isn’t anything you can do,” I said. “Maybe you could call Maddie. She’d probably love to talk to you.”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” Gram said. “Now what can I do for you?”
“You’ve already done it,” I said.
“Anytime, sweet girl,” she said. I could feel the warmth of her smile coming through the phone somehow. “So, tell me how the workshop went?”
“It went very well.” Elvis was purring so loudly I was surprised Gram couldn’t hear him through the receiver. “I could have done without seeing Mr. Peterson naked, though.”
For a moment there was nothing but silence. “Naked?” Gram finally managed to choke out. “Alf was . . . naked?”
“As the day he was born.”
“Did he have some kind of breakdown or a stroke?”
I laughed. “No. It’s a long story, but there was an art class in the room next door. Mr. Peterson was the model but he got the dress code and the room wrong.”