Chapter 4
Dori didn't know what it was technically called, but she was grateful that the hospital had a spare scooter for her. She'd seen them on the streets of Manhattan often enough, injured people zipping along with seeming ease.
Well, it wasn't easy, and if there was a trick to maneuvering the scooter in close quarters, she had yet to discover it. But she was able to propel herself with her good leg while her broken left leg was safely – if not comfortably - supported. And at least the thing was bright red.
The scooter also boasted a hot pink bow wrapped around the handlebars, and a horn, both of which her hostess had scavenged from her daughter’s old bicycle. Dori might be puttering around like an invalid, but she’d be doing it in style.
As her doctor had promised, the owner of the Interlude Inn had provided her with a room on the ground floor. Izzy Sutton also been thrilled that Dori’s stay would be much longer than initially planned. “I’m sorry you're laid up, but I have to tell you, I’m glad of the company. Ever since Gracie went away to school, this place has been pretty lonely.”
Dori laughed. “My parents threw a party when my little sister moved out and they finally had the house to themselves”
“I’m sure that's not true,” Izzy replied.
“They hired Mr. Cammameri across the street to cater it. He told me they were cleaning up for a week afterwards.” Dori didn’t blame her parents. After raising five kids, each a handful in his or her own way, they'd earned the right to celebrate some peace and quiet, not that it had lasted long. It wasn't six months before her siblings had begun to return home. Teresa came home when she got evicted from her first apartment. Johnny, her older brother, returned home after his divorce. Mary, her eldest sibling, spent two months in her childhood bedroom on strictly enforced bed rest after contracting something Dori couldn’t even pronounce, on one of her business trips. Dori herself had been forced to move home for a month when the pest problem in her building had gotten out of hand and the management had been forced to resort to industrial-strength extermination measures.
“Well, Gracie is welcome to move back anytime she wants.” They were in the dining room. Dori had managed to get herself from the scooter to a chair with only a little assistance from Izzy. “I hope you’re enjoying breakfast, by the way.”
“I am,” Dori said. “I mean, this French toast, it’s – I can’t say it’s better than Grandma’s, because she’ll come back from the grave and smack me if I did.”
Izzy laughed. “I wouldn’t want that. But, thank you all the same.” She left the table to wait on Dori, freshening her coffee, bringing another piece of French toast, offering her a pastry or two or three. She also brought treats for Little Tee, who still refused to leave Dori’s side. “You should load up at breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day. If you had any idea how many times I’ve had to tell Gracie that…”
“As many times as my mother told me and my brothers and sisters, I’m sure.” Dori was full to bursting by the time Izzy finally gave up offering her more food. “I can’t eat another bite. And I have to get to work.”
“Are you sure you’re up to that?” Izzy looked horrified at the thought.
“I have to make sure the electrician got everything done yesterday, and the drywall guy is coming at noon, and then there’s the plumber, I have a list a mile long for him.”
Izzy whistled. “You’ve got a busy day planned there. I can drive you over, if you give me ten minutes. And the dog, too, I guess.”
Dori didn’t really want Little Tee running all around with exposed pipes and wires and God only knew what else, but it seemed unlikely that the dog would allow herself to be left behind. “I don’t think we have a choice. I can put her in the basket, maybe she’ll stay there.” Her scooter featured a good-sized basket, big enough for a grocery bag or maybe even two. “And if she starts barking at all my contractors, maybe it’ll make them work faster.”
Izzy shook her head. “It’ll probably slow them down. She’s such a cutie, they’ll all want to play with her. Especially Lucas – you are using Romance Heating and Plumbing, aren’t you? He loves dogs. Always has.”
Lucas? The man who nearly ran her over?
He had been driving a truck. And she thought, but wouldn’t swear to it, that there had been a big red heart logo on the side. That would fit. And, really, Lucas was hardly a common name. It had to be him. She had to work with that maniac?
~*~
It was a good morning. There was a definite bite to the breeze coming in through Lucas’ window. It had been unseasonably warm the last couple of weeks, but he could feel the turn of the weather. The first good, sharp chill of the season was just the thing to encourage people to have their HVAC systems checked out. With any luck, Aunt Shelly would be deluged with calls, and by the end of the day he’d have a week’s worth of work lined up.
On top of that, he had the job at the Scott place to look forward to this morning. When he’d gone over there yesterday, he hadn’t realized how big a job it really was. Looking over the report from the home inspector, it wasn’t just a burst pipe. There were problems with all the toilets. And there was a note that the new owner was planning to turn the house into a restaurant. That would mean upgrades to the plumbing, probably installing a replacement HVAC system, and definitely making sure the kitchen could accept a roomful of new appliances. With a job like that, something else always cropped up, too, once the work started. Usually several somethings, all of which he would be able to bill for.
He went through his morning routine, although he took more care than usual. He dug an old bottle of cologne from the back of the medicine cabinet, and hunted through his closet to find a shirt that wasn’t wrinkled. He would be meeting the manager on the Scott job – some woman from New York that the owner had sent out ahead to supervise the work – and he wanted to make a good first impression. He hoped that would make the cost of the inevitable add-ons to the work go down more easily.
He half-watched the morning news, only paying attention when his favorite local reporter, Kitty Bennett, came on to talk about the weather. He was hoping to hear that the morning’s chill really was a sign that fall was here for good. Watching Kitty’s bright eyes and brighter smile never hurt, either. But he noted something off about her today. Her hair was – he couldn’t put his finger on precisely what was wrong with it, but it wasn’t right somehow.
No, he knew. The reporter’s hair wasn’t right in exactly the way that the woman from yesterday’s hair was right. The woman who’d fallen down in front of his truck, the one in the hospital, the one whose name he’d forgotten. All he could recall was that it had something to do with a fish, not that that made the slightest sense.
He did remember one detail about the woman, though – aside from her long, dark, perfect hair. Or her bright eyes, far brighter than Kitty from Channel 8. She was from New York, and she was just visiting Romance. Lucy said that she had flown out here for work.
She couldn’t be the woman he was supposed to meet in – he glanced up at the clock – fifteen minutes, could she?