Fadeout Page 3

  He refocused on Bella. With a touch on her hand, he said, “Sidney treated you like a queen, Bella Coola. Rightly so. I’ll always admire him for that.”

  She smiled broadly at his nickname for her. “He did, indeed. And soon you’ll appreciate his other skills, I promise.”

  Roman took a swallow of his drink, fortifying himself to mend fences. Even if Sidney had been a lifetime nag, Roman would humble himself for the sake of his grandmother. “Jan Solvang and her dog are not fans of mine, especially after I called her a channeler.” He shrugged. “I’d never heard of a funeral planner, so I suspected she might be taking advantage of you, Grandma.”

  A glance at the red-haired woman lounging next to him, her heavily penciled eyebrow raised, gave him his answer. “But no one’s ever taken advantage of you, have they?”

  She wiggled her hot pink manicured fingernails. “Not since eighth grade when Jimmy Michaels got fresh with me.”

  Grimacing at the reminder of Jimmy’s story, a boy his grandmother had cold-cocked and who supposedly carried a scar to this day, Roman switched the subject to Jan Solvang. “She did seem miffed by my questions. Defensive.”

  “She’s good, Roman,” Bella said. “Sidney and I found out about her from other people she helped. Jan Solvang and her father will give our Sidney a magnificent memorial.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you offend them so much they drop us.”

  He felt heat rise from his neck. Have I mucked things up?

  Bella raised an eyebrow. “No one else does their kind of work. It’s a brand new concept.” She sat back, her thin frame swallowed by the lounge chair, her voice too soft. “I need her to give my Sidney a proper send-off.”

  With me fighting you the whole way. What a prince I am.

  He knocked himself off his high horse. “I just wanted to check her out for you, Grandma. Your neighbor, Pete, likes her. She does seem…uh…energetic and…capable.” He wouldn’t describe how she’d fainted dead away, knocked down by the contents of a letter.

  Bella sat up and swung her feet to the patio floor, animated by his descriptors. “About everything except furnishing her house. I’m itching to get in there and help her if she’ll only ask. Lord knows I need something to do besides think about how much I miss Sidney.” Bella pinched Roman’s shoulder, seeming to relish the idea that Roman was sitting beside her, very much alive. “But she’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I’d kill to be able to wear a sleeveless shirt the way she can. Not a sag or a wrinkle in those tanned arms.” Bella tugged on her T-shirt sleeves to cover more of her skin. “Don’t look,” she warned him.

  Roman gave a polite smile and averted his eyes, interested in Bella’s description of Jan. The funeral planner was fit, all right. Except for her fainting spell, she was a bustler, bristling with energy. Frankly, he preferred his women more tranquil.

  The thick folder on Cliff Barker lying on her desk? Now, that was something he’d definitely like to get his arms around. Always wanted to dig into that guy’s life. Better yet, give Roman an hour on Jan’s computer and he’d find out all he needed to know about the underbelly of This is Your Life, Inc., as well as Cliff Barker.

  “Roman?”

  “Sorry, Grandma. I was thinking about Jan’s house. How empty it was.” He took a breath. Deciding he needed to put himself in a better light, he said, “She provides a service, Grandma. It’s her job to disclose exactly what she does and give a rationale for her billing.” He shrugged. “Lots of creeps take advantage of older, retired people. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the legit ones from the rip-offs unless you take an objective look at them. That’s why I didn’t consult with you first.”

  Bella nodded, appearing mollified. She picked up her glass and tipped it to her lips. Abruptly, she stopped, the ice in the glass clinking in protest. Frowning at Roman and holding her drink aside, she said, “Wait a minute. Did I hear you say her dog didn’t like you?”

  The dog? Roman remembered the little black thing jumping around and barking at him when he arrived. For some of the visit, the animal stood guard by Jan’s legs. Tanned, slim legs. The growling dog had brought his attention to the legs.

  Yeah, right.

  Grandma’s chest flashed “WICKED” at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “The dog barked a lot at first and when he was in the room, he growled at me.”

  Bella set her drink down hard, looking worried. “Well, that’s a problem we have to solve. They could drop us like yesterday’s newspaper if her mother’s dog doesn’t like you.”

  ****

  Jan knelt in the wet grass, her screwdriver poised while she watched the sprinkler pop up, hiss and spit, then deliver a spray of water to a portion of her garden and lawn. Her house. Her lawn and garden. Her dammed watering system.

  She now owned a house on a golf course and damn it, she was going to learn how to take care of it herself. A vision of Frank rolling his eyes at her attempt made her even more committed; whatever household problems developed in their Seattle condo, she’d always deferred to him to fix them. No more.

  Elwood bounced into view, ready for play. He chewed on the water gushing from the sprinkler. Dumb, but cute. Reminding her she also owned an unruly dog. Now wet and stinky.

  She’d decided to fix the sprinkler after a series of futile phone calls to clients. The widow Barker wanted a nice eulogy delivered by one of her six children. Seemed like a simple request to Jan. Tess, the only daughter, refused to speak. On the second go-around of phone calls from Jan, each of Barker’s five sons refused to take the podium at the memorial, giving the usual excuses about being inept at speechwriting and lousy at talking in front of a crowd. Interesting that not one of them said no because he’d get too emotional to deliver the speech.

  Worse, the daughter had begged Jan to persuade the widow to cancel the memorial altogether. Stick to a simple church service. Please, she’d begged. Fifteen fervent “pleases,” Jan counted. What was up with that?

  Only six days until the event. “I might be delivering the family eulogy myself,” she grumbled as she fussed with the sprinkler head.

  “Hello?” came a male voice behind her.

  Elwood’s growl spoke volumes. She didn’t need to turn around to identify her visitor. Didn’t the guy know how to use a phone? She waved with her screwdriver before she applied the tool to the sprinkler. Unless Roman Keller wanted to get wet, he’d have to stand behind her with a view of her backside. Too bad. He’d caught her in a dead faint. Why be concerned about her butt in the air?

  She analyzed the breadth of the spray after her adjustment. Satisfied, she rose, walked to the water meter, flipped it to “Off” and turned to him.

  Elwood stayed by her side, grumbling at the guy.

  “Got it under control?” he asked, observing her wet clothes.

  Jan looked down at her soaked T-shirt and shorts and dirty knees. She gestured at the offending pop-up with the screwdriver. “The jury’s still out. My first experience with a sprinkler system.”

  “Need some help?”

  With a shake of her head, she pulled her T-shirt away from her chest. He’d seen enough of her attributes already, thanks to a gaping halter top. Still, the flutter of excitement she felt at the memory surprised her. Was it possible she wanted him to find her attractive?

  “I read up on how to fix errant sprinkler heads. They forgot to say I’d get soaked.”

  He smiled in a neighborly way. “Not possible without a shower, is it?” Shifting his weight from one side to the other, he seemed unsure about what to say next. “Jan. May I call you Jan?” At her nod, he glanced at the irritated dog. “So this is Elwood. Bella says he’s your mom’s. Sorry to hear you lost your mother, Jan.”

  “Thanks.” She paused, surveying the yard, where her mother had spent countless hours nurturing her prize roses and three kinds of lavender. Taking care of the yard and the dog for her mother made her feel grounded, Jan realized.

  Keller put his hands in his pockets and raised his eyes to hers. S
heepish. The looseness around his mouth made her think he might have been drinking. She had the urge to move closer to him to sniff his breath. The thought that she was interested in the smell of the guy startled her so much she gave her head a shake.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. “If sun and working outside made you faint before, should you be out here now?”

  She felt warmth creep up her neck to her face, part anger, part embarrassment. This man had seen her when she was literally floored, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was now taking pleasure in dangling her lie in front of her.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Keller. Rested and taking it slow.” She inhaled, chiding herself for getting upset. “I’d appreciate if you’d keep the swoon between you and me. I don’t want to worry Bella.”

  “Already forgotten,” he insisted with a wave of his hand. “First name basis, okay? Please, call me Roman. My grandmother and I had a talk over her famous gin and tonics. In a while, I’ll take Bella shopping. Her sister’s coming from the Midwest tomorrow so she wants to buy groceries.”

  Jan bent over to soothe the still-rumbling Elwood, with no effect. At least the little guy didn’t stray from his position at her feet.

  Keller gestured toward his grandmother’s house, three doors down. “Bella wants me to make peace with your dog. For some reason, she thinks if your Scottie doesn’t like me, you won’t help with Sidney’s memorial.”

  As if in answer, Elwood barked and added a howl for good measure, his black beard flipping back and forth in agitation.

  Jan tried not to smile. “She didn’t explain?”

  “She said I’d have to find out for myself. Threw me out of the house to discover the answer as well as make an appointment with you to work on Sidney’s memorial.”

  She brushed the dirt off her knees, transferring mud to her palms. With a sigh, she rubbed her dirty hands on her wet shorts. Straightening her spine, Jan said, “Today I told my dad I didn’t want to work for your family. We’re used to serving clients who know and like our work.”

  When Keller looked like he was going to speak, she shook her head to stop him. “I promised my dad. Bella will be my next-to-last client before I close up my house and head for Seattle.” She squinted at him. “You live in Santa Barbara, right?” At his nod, she said, “You probably want to get home tonight.”

  Vigorous nod.

  “We’ll meet after dinner. Here. Six-thirty to eight-thirty.”

  Keller looked relieved, then troubled by the grumble coming from Elwood. Jan couldn’t help herself. If she was forced to take on Roman Keller, she deserved to have a little fun with him.

  She half-turned to her door. “Just so you know. Elwood’s an important member of the funeral planning team. He goes with us everywhere, to soothe our clients.”

  Keller blinked, waiting for more information.

  “Don’t ask me why,” Jan said, “but my mother’s dog is fixated on shadows. She named him for the guy in the play who sees a giant rabbit named Harvey. Our Elwood prefers to track shadows. Because of that quirk, families of the deceased regard him as a touchstone, like he’s got one paw in the spiritual world.” She added, “My mom’s idea, not mine. But that’s why Elwood’s picture graces our business card.”

  Jan paused for dramatic effect, then sent him a wry look. “Elwood’s never, ever, growled at a person. You’re the first, Mr. Keller.”

  Chapter Four

  “Sounds like the dead are more important than the living,” Frank Thomas said, his cold analysis of Jan’s reasons for extending her stay in California.

  Jan adjusted the phone to her ear and walked out to her patio, Elwood at her side.

  As if Frank could see her all the way from Seattle, he added, “Sorry. Should have thrown in the dog. And the quote, winter home, unquote, you bought without telling me.” He paused. “I’ll revise my statement. Your priorities go something like this: the dead, the dog, the house, the General. I’m fifth in line.”

  She ignored the list and reiterated the schedule. “I bid farewell to this job and my last client next week. Then I head to Seattle.”

  “What about the dog?”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, “My wild hope that Elwood could be a companion for Dad looks like a pipe-dream.” She chuckled. “Turns out both the dog and I refuse to take orders from the General.”

  “And your solution is?”

  “At the moment, none. A disobedient dog is the least of my worries.”

  When Frank didn’t respond, she went on. “How did six months slip away so quickly? Losing Mom. Helping Dad keep the business going. Getting the house fixed up.” She wondered why she was taking all the blame. “You could have visited.”

  “Some of us still work a seven to seven job.” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect. “‘Course it would help if I knew we could sleep together when I visited. You haven’t bought a bed for us, have you?”

  She pictured him standing in front of the condo’s living room window, peering out at their view of Elliot Bay, a gotcha smile on his face. Suited up from work, hands-free phone still attached to his ear, he’d be rubbing his bald head in agitation.

  “I’m looking for the perfect set of bedroom furniture,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive.

  “You’ve never bought a stick of furniture in the twelve years I’ve known you, Janny. Why haven’t you asked for my help?”

  She wanted to answer: “So I finally get to furnish a home on my own.” But she was well aware her comment would start a brand new argument.

  When she didn’t respond, Frank filled in. “Old Pop Walter’s not begging for my company, that’s for sure.”

  “Ancient argument,” she said, irritated by his sarcastic tone, yet sad about the General’s antipathy toward Frank. She rushed to change the subject. “The point is, I haven’t been lolling around in the sun. In fact, my first irate customer showed up on my doorstep today, a guy I have to work with for two hours tonight.”

  “Sorry, Janny. The thing is, I worry you won’t be returning in a week. Since you haven’t got the dog or the bed thing taken care of…” He sighed instead of finishing his sentence.

  Jan walked to the edge of her patio, enjoying the balmy evening. She knew it was raining in Seattle, but now was not the time to say so.

  Her patio. Her California ranch style house, in warm brown stucco and red-tiled roof. She’d bought the one-story, two thousand square foot home from her parents a year ago when they moved to a retirement condo in San Luis Obispo. She was convinced she’d never find a house and a vista like theirs for the price she and her parents had agreed upon. Without telling Frank ahead of time, she’d bought it.

  Jan was aware he was waiting for her to bring up the letter from the lawyers, but she couldn’t get out the words.

  “Janny?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You got the letter.”

  “I did.” Then it hit her. He should have known the surprise would make her faint. Was he being cruel or had he forgotten her tendency to crumple when she was startled?

  “We’re a couple, Janny. The condo was in my name. I converted it to dual ownership. With your signature, we share the deed.”

  She sighed. His voice sounded earnest and caring. Clearly he was so caught up in gifting her half of the condo that he didn’t remember how her body reacted to surprises. She’d be mean to tell Frank she’d fainted in front of a stranger, and what good would it do for her to describe the heartrending cries in her faint-dream? “It was a generous gesture, Frank.”

  “Well, it was about time, I figured. I presumed you’d be pleased.”

  “Thanks. I realize you went to a lot of trouble to get the legal stuff done.”

  Frank was quiet for a long time. “I think you left because I was pushing for marriage.”

  “My mother was dying, Frank. I ran to her.”

  “A house, a dog, and a new job prove otherwise. God, Janny, we’ve been together for twelve years. Committed. Par
tners. Think of what we’ve gone through together.”

  Though she sensed grains of truth in his words, Jan struggled to respond. The Los Padres mountain range, standing stately in the distance, pulled her attention away from intangible, unspeakable emotions. Feelings? What were those? Raised by a demanding father and bowled over by tough-minded brothers, she’d learned to corral emotions and focus on the facts, but her mother’s death had opened those gates and now, a stampede of feelings overwhelmed her.

  Elwood rubbed against her leg, seeming to remind her he was real. But what did the nudge mean? A walk, water, food, or a scratch behind the ears? The General had no patience for the dog. Did she? Jan noted the scruffy fellow needed a haircut. Her mother used to brush the little guy’s teeth on occasion. How often? Would Elwood sit still if she cleaned his teeth?

  Frank hadn’t said as much but she doubted he’d be pleased if she brought Elwood to Seattle. Would the condo management even allow dogs?

  Frank spoke. “We can’t have this conversation over the phone, my dear. Shall I fly down tomorrow so we can talk, face to face?”

  The constriction in her heart shouted “No!”

  “That wouldn’t be fair to you,” she said, scrambling to find more reasons for him not to come. Her “To Do” list was full. Please don’t make me add a commitment talk, not when I don’t even know how I feel about you anymore.

  She was a baseball player caught between third base and home plate, her life a squeeze play, with nowhere to run. Why not abandon the rules and dash off the field? Palm Springs, maybe?

  Her suitcase was packed. Why not?

  When she looked down at Elwood, in search of an answer to her turmoil, she found it.

  The dog sat, waiting for her next move.

  Similarly, Jan took a seat on the lounge chair, between third and home base. If she couldn’t run, she’d sit for a while. To Frank, she said, “I’ll finish with my last clients and furnish the great room, the den, and one bedroom. Once those tasks are out of my hair, I’ll think more clearly.”