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Chapter Five

Adam sat on the edge of J.C.’s desk, flipping through the messages on his cell phone.

“Your office must miss you,” J.C. told him drily as he signed a stack of insurance forms.

“Let Didi come to work for me and I’ll stay out of your way.”

J.C. grunted. “Last I heard, she’s still loyal.”

“Yeah. You have the women hooked.”

J.C. wagged his head in disbelief. “A whole harem.”

“What about the patient’s daughter? Maddie?”

Feeling an unwanted burst of protectiveness, J.C. looked up. “What about her?”

Adam flung out upturned hands. “Give.”

J.C. fiddled with his pen for a moment. “She offered to close up Fran’s house.”

The joking demeanor faded. “Wow.”

“That’s what I thought. I was at the house, felt like I was going to lose it and Maddie stopped by.”

“Out of the blue?”

“She was taking her mother out on a walk and spotted me on the porch. We talked about Fran’s things. Maddie said it would be harder the longer I left it.”

“What about the estate people?”

J.C. sighed. “I know you were trying to help, but it sounded so … cold. Maddie’s going to take an inventory, get things packed for storage so I can rent out the house.”

“Good plan. Then if Chrissy wants it later …”

“That’s what we thought.”

“We?”

“Lay off, Adam. Maddie’s just trying to help because she’s grateful that her mother’s improving.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You need to get married, get off the romance radar.”

“Because that worked out so well for you?”

J.C. winced. “There are downsides to having old friends. They know too much.”

“Sorry. You know I get jittery about the marriage thing.”

“Guess you haven’t met the right woman.” J.C. held up one hand before his friend could jump in with an obvious reminder. “And neither have I.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Maybe you have, my friend.”

J.C. frowned.

“Maddie sounds like someone worth getting to know.”

“Ah, just what I need in my upside-down life.”

Chuckling, Adam looked smug. “You said it.”

A few weeks later, J.C. glanced around the near-empty rooms of his sister’s house. “You’re amazing!”

Surprisingly, Maddie blushed.

The quaint sign was charming, taking him aback even more than all she had accomplished.

“You sent a lot of help,” she reminded him, not quite meeting his gaze as she fiddled with one of the few remaining cartons.

“Still …” He shifted, taking in how much had been accomplished, how his sister’s belongings had all been tucked away.

“I did think of something else.” Maddie finally lifted her eyes. Today they were as blue as her sapphire-colored blouse. “Even with another family living here, from the outside the house looks the same. If you had it painted in a new palette, one that doesn’t even resemble the gray, it would seem very different.”

J.C. hadn’t even considered the exterior. “I don’t know much about picking out colors.”

Maddie smiled, causing the dimple in her cheek to flash. “That’s the easy part.”

Wanting to study her face, her soft-looking lips, he nodded. “Such as?”

She brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Um … yellow would be pretty. A daisy shade of yellow. White trim. Be cause the front door is mostly glass …” Her voice trailed off.

J.C. realized he was staring, not listening. “Sounds good.”

She brightened. “I don’t want you to think I’m meddling. I have this habit of over-organizing things, people, well, most everything.”

Her dimple moved when she spoke, a punctuation mark to her smile. As he watched, it gradually disappeared. What had she just said?

Maddie’s smile faded a bit.

And J.C. marshaled his thoughts. “You were saying?”

“That I meddle.”

“Thank the Lord you do.” She paled and he instantly realized she’d taken his words the wrong way. “Helping, not meddling. I’d never have guessed Fran’s house could be packed up so … quickly.”

“And the painting?” she prodded.

“Great idea.” Her eyes were incredibly blue. “Maybe blue?”

“With the yellow? Or just a light shade of blue?”

“Definitely not light,” he murmured, captivated by the depth of color in her eyes.

“Well, we could get some samples, look them over.” Maddie twisted her hands.

J.C.’s gaze followed her action when he abruptly remembered the last time he’d been entranced by a pretty face and mesmerizing eyes. His ex-wife had been pretty, as well. On the outside. “You still haven’t told me how much you’ll take for doing all this.”

Her eyes clouded and that enchanting dimple disappeared. “I did it to help you, not to make money.”

“But …” He waved around, again stunned by the emptiness. While it was a relief to have the job done, the house no longer held the reminders of Fran’s life. Facing Maddie again, he couldn’t keep a sliver of bleakness out of his voice. “It was a big job.”

Maddie’s voice, too, was quiet. “For me it was Dad’s fishing pole. Mom gave it to his best friend. Logically, I knew Dad was gone, that he wasn’t coming back, but when his fishing pole was in the shed, leaning against the wall, it almost seemed like he’d stroll back in, whistling, ready to tie new flies.”

She got it. Completely. “Yeah.”

“When everything’s done … if you do decide to change the look of the exterior, it might help Chrissy to see it’s just a house.”

His niece had been campaigning to live in the building on Main Street. “She’d kick and scream all the way here. And I’m not ready for that.”

“Think about my offer.”

He blanked, looking at her in question.

“To watch Chrissy in the afternoons.”

“Still not enough to do?” he asked wryly.

“Actually, Chrissy kept Mom entertained the day you visited. That means more time for me to get things done.”

He was skeptical. “You forget, I know Chrissy. Much as I love her, right now she’s acting like a pain.”

“Understandably.”

“It’s easier to be understanding from a distance,” he warned her, thinking of Chrissy’s refusal to do any homework. He’d wrangled with her for more than an hour and had gotten nowhere.

Maddie laughed. “Isn’t everything? Keep the offer in mind. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sobered, he wondered. In his experience, that’s exactly what women did.

The phone jangled loudly. J.C. bolted upright, reaching for the receiver before the noise could wake Chrissy. Momentarily forgetting he was sleeping on the couch, he overshot the mark and slammed his hand into a lamp that crashed to the floor. Grabbing the side table so that he wouldn’t land on top of the broken glass, he smashed his toes into the unyielding wood base.

Muttering under his breath, he finally reached the phone. Bad car accident on the highway, possible spinal fracture. Flipping on the overhead light, he glanced at his watch. Nearly two in the morning.

J.C. dressed quickly, then wrote a note for Chrissy. Still uneasy with leaving her alone, he stopped at Blair’s apartment, knocking quietly.

Yawning, she rubbed her eyes. “I’ll try to listen, but I pulled a double yesterday and I’m beat.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

She yawned again. “Me, too.”

“Thanks, Blair.”

Still yawning she closed the door.

Once at the hospital, J.C. rushed to the trauma area. Fortunately, the situation wasn’t as dire as he expected, but it was still over two hours before he neared home.

Red lights flashed from an ambulance, strobing eerily in the darkness. Grabbing his bag, he ran toward an EMT. Chrissy! Had something happened to her? “I’m a doctor.” Panting, he caught his breath. “What’s the situation?”

“Heart attack. Nurse that lives here gave him CPR. Touch and go, but she kept him alive.”

“Nurse?” Blair? J.C. skirted the back of the ambulance, catching sight of Blair, then reaching her on a run. “Where’s Chrissy?”

Blair looked distracted. “In your apartment I imagine. Had my hands pretty full here.”

“Sorry. Of course.” He pushed one hand through his thick hair. “Saved his life, I hear.”

“Hope so.”

J.C. loped across the lawn toward his apartment. Even from a distance, he could see that the overhead light in the living room was on. Not breaking his stride, he burst inside. But the living room was empty. With the lights on, his earlier tangle with the lamp looked ominous. “Chrissy?”

No answer.

The bedroom light was off, but he could see the mound of little girl beneath the covers. He switched on the lamp. “Chrissy?”

Muffled cries penetrated her covering.

Gently he peeled back the duvet. “It’s okay.”

“Uh-uh.” She cried harder.

“I know one of the neighbors got sick, but it looks like he’ll be all right.”

“You weren’t here!” she accused.

“There was an emergency—” J.C. started to explain.

“The sirens came and everything!”

Logic couldn’t overcome her fear. “I’m here now.”

Chrissy burst into a new round of tears. It was too late. And it wasn’t enough. Worse, he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again.

J.C. glanced at Lillian Carter’s chart. “No nausea or decreased appetite?”

Maddie answered for her mother. “Nope. If anything, she’s eating a bit more.”

“Now is that something we tell handsome young men?” Lillian fussed, then smiled at J.C. To Maddie’s surprise he didn’t smile back. Wasn’t like him. Not at all. Lillian smoothed her skirt. “You bake a lot of sweets. They’re hard to resist.”

“I do have a sweet tooth,” Maddie admitted.

Again no reaction from J.C. Had they somehow irritated him? “Everything all right?”

“Hmm.” Distracted, he glanced up from the chart. “I’m sorry, what?”

She frowned. “I said, is everything all right?”

He shrugged, then exhaled. “Not really.”

She searched his expression. “Chrissy?”

J.C. explained the emergency call and his neighbor’s heart attack.

“That’s dreadful!”

“Chrissy’s inconsolable.”

“Of course,” Lillian spoke up, surprising both of them. “A child must always feel safe. It’s the parents’ job to make sure of that.”

Maddie wanted to wince for him. Still … “It’s hard to hear, but true. J.C., you need help. And frankly, Mom and I could use the babysitting money.”

“In the middle of the night?” he responded.

“Middle of the night, morning, after school, whenever we’re needed. We don’t exactly have a schedule carved in stone. You can drop Chrissy by if you get a call in the night. It’s not ideal, but it’s far better than leaving her alone.”

He glanced at Lillian. “You have more to consider than just Chrissy.”

“Do you have any tea, young man?” Lillian questioned, apparently now off the subject at hand.

J.C. sharpened his gaze. “No, Mrs. Carter, but I’m pretty sure your daughter does.” He pushed the office intercom. “Didi? Could you bring in a cup of coffee for Mrs. Carter?”

“Sure, boss.”

There was a soft knock on the exam room door, then Didi pushed it open. As she brought the coffee and tray with creamer and sugar, J.C. took Maddie’s elbow, steering her to the other side of the room.

“Have you thought any more about your tea shop?”

Puzzled, she shook her head. “You know I can’t—”

“You want a shop. I have a building that needs a tenant. More important, I have a niece who needs someone besides me in her life. She looks at every housekeeper and nanny I’ve hired as a threat, someone set up to take her mother’s place. But she likes you. She likes Lillian.” He glanced over at the older woman. “You have to admit your mother couldn’t threaten a bug.”

“But—”

“Chrissy wants to live in the building on Main Street.”

Maddie blinked.

J.C. told her about the two apartments above the business level. “They haven’t been lived in for a while. Jay’s parents lived in one until they passed away. Then Jay used them mostly for storage the past few years, but both could be made livable without a lot of work.”

“Even if that was a viable option, Mom can’t handle stairs.”

“Jay had an elevator put in for his parents.”

Maddie glanced over at her mother who was busily chatting with Didi about African violets. “Even so …”

“It would be an enormous help to me. You and your mother are right. Chrissy should feel safe. With you directly across the hall, she would.”

“We have our house …” Maddie tried to think of all the considerations.

“You mentioned needing money. Renting it out would give you a nice income. Not to mention what you make in the shop.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t have the money to start a business.”

“Let me be your silent partner. Wagner Hill House has been a worry. I don’t want it rented by some cheesy tourist outfit or chain restaurant. And if the building sits empty too long, it won’t be good for the town.”

Overwhelmed, Maddie stared at him. “Just like that? Up and move? Start a business with no money?”

“Just like that,” he replied calmly. “What are your concerns?”

“Endless. My mother—”

“Would benefit from more interaction with people. That’s a medical opinion.”

She waved her hands in the air. “Fixing up the apartments.”

“I have friends in the contracting business. Next.”

“Renting out our house.”

“I have a friend in real estate.”

She plopped her hands on both hips. “Don’t tell me, you have a friend in tearooms, as well?”

His eyes softened a fraction. “I hope so.”

Her heart did a little two-step that dried her throat. “It’s so much to take in.”

“It’s trite, but every journey begins with a step. Think Sam might stand in for you while we take a look at the apartments?”

“I suppose, but—”

“Good. How about tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow?” she couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.

The smile she remembered was back on his face. “Unless you want to see them tonight?”

By morning, Maddie decided she was out of her mind. A sleepless night only confirmed the diagnosis. Now, a few hours later, Sam was perched on one of the kitchen chairs while Maddie turned on the electric kettle.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Sam nibbled on a cookie. “I hope you plan to stock these. I could eat a dozen by myself.”

Maddie rubbed her forehead, wondering why she’d given in to J.C.’s suggestion to phone Sam and set up the late-morning meeting. “You’ve just put at least a dozen carts before the horse. The more I think about J.C.’s idea—”

“Then stop thinking. Maddie, he’s right. It’s a good solution for all of you. J.C. needs help. Chrissy needs some stability in her life. Your mother will blossom—you know how she loves company. And you …”

“Can’t finish that one, can you?”

“Actually I can, but you’re too prickly right now to lis ten.”

“Prickly?”

“You’re not a martyr. I know that. But you’re refusing to think beyond today. You’re cutting corners now. How many are left? Do you see the cost of living shrinking in the next decade? And even though we don’t want to think about it, Lillian’s medical expenses could rise significantly. A business could give you the means to make sure you can take care of her. And, stubborn friend, what’s wrong with you having some happiness? Pursuing your dream?”

Maddie swallowed. She’d purposely pushed their financial future to the corners of her thoughts, hoping that somehow it would work out. “And if the business is a big flop?”

Sam shook her head gently. “I doubt that’s possible. But if it did, we’d be here for you—your friends, your neighbors.”

Sighing Maddie plunked down into a chair across from her friend. “This is all going too fast. I barely know J.C.”

“That could change,” Sam suggested hopefully.

Maddie swallowed. That was about the scariest part of the whole venture.

J.C. was highly aware of Maddie’s reluctance. He’d all but dragged her from her house. Feeling like a used car salesman, he’d talked up the place during the short drive to Main Street. Now, he inserted the key in the lock. Unused since Jay’s death, the building seemed to echo with the loss. Jay’s employees had scattered. Some were old enough to retire, the rest had found other jobs when the company closed. Without Jay’s networking, the place would have crawled to a halt, so J.C. had chosen the only practical option.

Still, their footsteps rang in the emptiness.

“What happened to the equipment?” Maddie whispered.

“Sold it.” His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. Finding a multiple light switch, he flipped all the levers. Fluorescent lights glared overhead. Seeing Maddie wince, he turned all but one off. “You’d have to imagine it without the commercial additions.” He pointed toward the walls on the east side. “The original moldings are still in place. Jay updated the lighting and wiring for his business. But Wagner Hill House was built in the 1890s.”

Maddie glanced around uncertainly. “The wood floors are still good.” She stared upward at the ugly drop ceiling.

“The original’s still under those panels. Be easy to restore. Of course you have to look past the dust.”

Just then she sneezed.

“Way under the dust.”

“Seems more suited to a different sort of business.” She halted in front of a stack of boxes taller than she was. “Not really a tea shop sort of place.”

J.C. pointed to the original bay window that faced Main Street. “Picture it without the signs and printing displays. You could put up some kind of curtains, I imagine.”

“Hmm.” Maddie studied the large window. “European,” she murmured. “That’s the feel I always wanted. Plastered walls.”

Helpfully, he gestured toward the original plastered walls. “They’re still in good shape.”

“Maybe …”

“Plumbing’s good. You can reconfigure it however you want.”

Maddie frowned. “Sounds expensive.”

“That’s where your silent partner comes in.”

“I’d never be able to pay you back!”

“Look at it this way, Maddie. No matter who I rent to, I’m looking at renovations.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. And the improvements are a write-off. Just clearing the rest of the junk out of here will make a big difference. You’ll see.”

Pivoting, she studied the space. “It would, actually.”

“Let’s take a look at the apartments. The elevator’s in the back and there are two sets of stairs, one up front and one in the rear.”

Reaching the front stairway, Maddie smoothed her hand over the curved bannister. “Lovely woodwork. Don’t see this in modern buildings.”

Her eyes were dusky gray in the muted light. Despite the reluctance in them, he spotted a vulnerable flicker of hope. He wondered how her face would look lit up with another emotion, a more personal feeling.

“Something wrong?”

Shaking his head, he smiled. “Just thinking of possibilities.”

Upstairs, they entered the first apartment. Furniture shrouded in sheets were ghostly reminders of past occupants. J.C. opened long, heavy drapes that hid blurry windows. “Needs updating, of course.”

“And a good clean.” Maddie pulled a drop cover off the kitchen counter, revealing a beautiful dark green marble. “These are nice.”

“I know in general the whole building looks dismal—I haven’t spent any time here since Jay and Fran died. But Chrissy’s right. It doesn’t have the sad feeling their house does.”

“Once it’s cleared and cleaned, it will look a world better,” Maddie encouraged. “Any place that’s abandoned looks it.”

“Guess we can take turns encouraging each other,” he teased.

She grinned, then sobered. “True, but I don’t want you to feel you have to bail me out. I know our situation isn’t the best—”

“Agreed. Mine, either. Pooling our resources can fix that.” He shoved the drapes open as far as they would go. “Imagine once the windows are clean, the walls have a fresh coat of paint, the place won’t look so grim.”

“I don’t suffer from lack of imagination,” she confessed. “Just the opposite, I’m afraid. I can close my eyes and see the shop of my dreams. I can also see the price tag. You’re offering to be incredibly generous, but—”

“What? You’ll go on the same way until you run out of money? Chrissy will get sadder, more out of control?”

Concern colored her eyes and blue now tinted the gray. “You’re pushing my softie buttons.”

“Is it working?”

“You swear that helping Chrissy will actually offset the cost of renovating the building? Of setting up the business?”

He fashioned the fingers of his right hand into the Boy Scout pledge. “Yep.”

“I’ve always been a sucker for Boy Scouts.”

“Really?”

Maddie suddenly looked embarrassed. “They’re nice to old people.” She gripped the strap on her shoulder bag. “Well, since we’ve decided, I guess we’d better break the news to Chrissy and my mother.”

Apparently she didn’t want him to press her personal buttons. “Right. I’ll talk to Seth about the renovations. He can arrange for the cleanup, as well. I can talk to Paul Russell about leasing your house, if you want.”

“So we’re really doing this?” Worry pushed the blue from her eyes, rendering them the gray of clouds just beginning to darken.

“Yeah, we really are.”