Fools Rush in(45)

“It’s working,” I sang.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EVEN THE WEATHER SEEMED HAPPY that I was with Joe. For the next few days, the tourists got their money’s worth. The sun shone warm and the sky shimmered with pure, clear blue. The wind sang gently through the pines and the birds answered cheerfully, red-winged blackbirds chuckling and mourning doves cooing. On Tuesday, I had to work the later shift, so I had the whole morning to myself. I liked these days, since I had time to grocery shop, clean, drop by the senior center and visit my patients, whatever. Sometimes I’d pop in on my mom or bring doughnuts and coffee to Katie and my godsons, but today I chose to stay home.

Digger and I had gone for a run, and my dog was now panting contentedly on the deck. I was cooling down a little before showering, watering the flower boxes that I had planted on the recommendation of Sam, my part-time landscaper. He’d advised me well, and the plants were in full flower, trailing purple petunias tumbling out amid dark green ivy and brilliant pink dianthus. Good old Sam. Always knew what he was doing.

Digger leaped up from his slumber, growling, as a sleek convertible pulled into my driveway. I gaped, water dribbling from my watering can onto my sneakers, as my sister got out of the car.

Trish! I hadn’t seen her since April. As was her custom, she looked…rich. Wearing a calf-length, silky white skirt and matching sleeveless top that showed her well-toned arms and a discreet stripe of her lean, tanned tummy, she stood for a moment, looking around as if she had just arrived on an alien planet.

“Millie?” she called, sliding her expensive-looking, narrow sunglasses onto her head.

“Hi, Trish!” I called, grabbing Digger’s collar. “It’s okay, buddy,” I soothed. Taking another look at Trish’s outfit, which probably cost about a week’s worth of my salary, I pictured it covered with dog hair and saliva. “Come on in,” I said. “I’ll just put Digger in the bedroom.”

Hurriedly and apologetically, I imprisoned Digger, though I thought perhaps I should have kept him around for moral support. Glancing around my kitchen, I saw that it was, well, immaculate, thanks to my morning bout of scouring. A coffee cup in the sink. Not bad at all. “Come on in, Trish.”

She deigned to enter, unspeaking, posture perfect, hair falling in rich waves to her shoulders.

“How have you been?” I asked, self-consciously running a hand through my own sweat-stiffened hair.

“Great,” she replied absently. Her gaze flicked up and down my frame, quickly assessing my appearance and then apparently moving onto other, more pleasant things. “It’s really…different in here.”

“Do you like it?” I asked, then practically bit off my tongue. I knew better than to fish for compliments from this one.

“Well…” my sister answered stoically. “It’s very…cute.”

“Have a look around,” I said resignedly. She was already in the living room, surveying the family photos I had placed on the wall.

“Who are these kids?” she asked, pointing to a picture.

“They’re Katie’s boys! My godsons?”

“Right.”

No praise issued from Trish’s perfectly glossed lips as she walked through my small domicile. But she wasn’t really hostile either, so that was a plus. Part of me wanted to show off to Trish, because even if she wouldn’t say it, I thought she might be impressed. I watched her as her size-four frame walked from room to room. Digger’s tail thumped hopefully against the bedroom door, and I silently promised him a long tummy scratch after Trish had left.

“Want some tea?” I offered, more for something to say than anything else.

“Sure,” she called. I almost had to grab the counter to keep from falling down in shock. This was a first. Me, playing hostess to Trish. Very weird.

“Well,” she said, coming back into the kitchen, “It’s better than what Gran had, I guess.”

“Gosh, thanks,” I replied, putting the kettle on to boil.

“You’re welcome,” Trish said, brushing off the seat before sitting.

Trying not to grind my teeth, I got the last two cups left from Gran’s wedding china, set them on their translucent saucers and dropped in a couple of tea bags. Not to impress, Trish, of course, because that was impossible. No, just to show her that we Cape Codders had a little class. I got out the sugar bowl. Of course, Trish didn’t take sugar—empty calories!—but I did, and I defiantly shoveled a healthy teaspoon of it into my cup.

“You could do a lot with this place,” she commented, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the table.

“I already have,” I said sharply, taking a seat across from her. Trish looked startled.

“Oh, sure,” she placated. “Um…did you do it all yourself?”

“Well, Katie helped a bit, and Curtis and Mitch gave me some suggestions. But mostly, I guess I did. I sanded the floors and painted and all that stuff.”

“Mmm hmm,” Trish commented. “Well, I hope you know how much it’s worth.”

“Yes, Trish, I know,” I sighed.

“We wouldn’t have to worry about Danny’s college tuition if Gran had divided her house between us,” Trish said, adjusting a gold bracelet on her slender wrist.

Ah, the trump card. Danny. There was nothing for me to say. Yes, I felt a bit guilty that I had inherited this house and Trish had gotten only a few thousand dollars, but I wasn’t the one who’d made that decision. Gran had given me her sweet little home, and I loved and cared for it as she knew I would. At the time our grandmother had made the will, Trish had had her own home. I’m sure Gran had assumed that my sister and Sam had done just fine. Of course, it would never cross Trish’s mind to actually get a job to help pay for Danny’s tuition…. I took a deep breath and tried to quell my irritation.