Better Off Thread, page 12
The food was fancy. I worried at first about Jackson not being able to eat what was on the menu, but I shouldn’t have. Veronica had already spoken with the chef, and Jackson was served a special toddler-friendly meal. He had macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, small bites of breaded chicken, and apple slices. Frankly, I thought his meal looked better than ours. I wasn’t terribly froufrou at heart. We had a house salad, roasted chicken breast with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and steamed Brussels sprouts. The meal was good, but I’d have seriously traded Jackson my Brussels sprouts for a single bite of his mac and cheese.
Near the end of dinner, Jackson started to get fussy.
Mark sighed. “I’ll take him up and try to get him settled down. I think all this excitement has been a little much for him.”
I could see that neither Mark nor Tiffany was finished with dinner. “I’ll take him back up to Veronica’s condo . . . if no one minds.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on you like that,” Tiffany said.
“I would,” Mark said. He answered his wife’s glare of disapproval with a shrug. “I’m sorry, but I’d be thrilled if Marcy would take Jackson upstairs for us. Do you realize how long it’s been since you and I have danced together?”
Tiffany relented. “Are you sure, Marcy?”
“Positive.” I leaned toward her and lowered my voice. “It’ll keep me out of the Carstairs’ line of fire.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry about that,” said Veronica. “I didn’t know the doctor would ask you to come to his home and give a performance.”
“Would you like for me to come up with you?” Ted asked.
I shook my head. “Not yet. Dance with your mom first.”
He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it before I pushed back my chair.
“Jackson, wanna go play?” I asked.
“Play!” He stretched his arms out toward me.
Tiffany gave me her key, and Jackson and I ducked out of the ballroom and into the elevator.
“The party is over for us, right?” I asked.
“Party over.”
“I’m glad we can go play now.”
“We play. We like play.”
“Yes, we do.”
As soon as we got into Veronica’s condo, I slipped off my black platform pumps.
“Hurt a toes?” Jackson asked.
I smiled. “They were starting to hurt my toes. What do you say we get you out of that suit?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t know whether or not to give Jackson a bath, so I merely changed him out of the suit and into some pajamas. Then we went back into the living room, sat down on the sofa, and watched a video of animated characters singing songs. They were pretty simple, and the words were displayed on the screen with a ball jumping from word to word, so I sang along. Jackson did, too . . . kinda. Other than dancing with Ted, this was the highlight of my evening.
After about half an hour, Jackson lay down and dozed off. I turned off the television and covered him with his blanket. Then I went to find Clover. She was in Veronica’s bedroom, confined by a baby gate. I reached over the gate and lifted up the large brown-and-white bunny, and she snuggled beneath my chin. I returned to the living room, sat at the end of the sofa opposite Jackson, and stroked Clover’s soft fur.
The door opened, and Tiffany came in. When she saw that Jackson was asleep, she asked, “How’d you do that?”
“We sang ourselves to sleep. Well, we sang Jackson to sleep. I just got a little drowsy. And the bunny is putting me over the edge.” I stifled a yawn.
She smiled and sat on the chair nearest me.
“I didn’t give him a bath,” I said. “You didn’t mention it, so I just changed him into his pj’s.”
“That’s fine. I bathed him before putting him into his suit, so we’re good.” She paused. “I’m sorry you had to leave the party. If it’s any consolation, you aren’t missing much . . . except Ted dancing with Mom. That was sweet. Not as sweet as watching him dance with you, but not bad.”
“He’s an excellent dancer,” I said, hoping the dim light hid my blush. “Growing up, my mom would sometimes throw parties or we’d be invited to parties much like this one, and I’d usually end up finding a quiet corner to hide out.”
“Mom told me your mother is a costume designer. So I guess you could do some major name-dropping about the parties you’ve attended.”
“I suppose. But those events weren’t parties as much as they were negotiations. Everyone was there to see who they could meet and what they could take away from that meeting.”
“Sounds a lot like Bellamy Carstairs,” said Tiffany dryly.
“Exactly like that. Dance, monkey, dance! Dr. Carstairs commands. And I’ll go dance . . . but only for Brendan. And for Captain Moe. I was so relieved when Ted volunteered to go with me.”
“It wasn’t hard to read that desperation in your eyes. If he hadn’t spoken up, I would have.”
I laughed softly. “Thanks.”
“You love my brother, don’t you?”
“More than I can say.”
She smiled. “I never saw him look at Jennifer the way he looks at you.”
We heard voices in the hallway.
“Looks like they’re back,” I said. “I guess I should return Clover to her room.”
“Not yet.” Tiffany reached for her. “Let me hold her for a few minutes first.”
“She is wonderfully therapeutic.”
Veronica, Mark, and Ted came through the door.
Mark looked at Jackson sleeping peacefully on the sofa and then at me. “What form of magic is this?”
“Apparently, it was a singing spell,” said Tiffany.
Mark stepped closer to his wife and ran a hand over Clover’s soft head.
“Marcy, you know you don’t have to take your shoes off here,” said Veronica.
I admitted I hadn’t taken them off to avoid soiling the carpet, and then I relayed Jackson’s “hurt a toes” question. That made everyone laugh so hard that the child stirred in his sleep.
“Shhh!” Mark hissed. “Don’t wake the dragon. Or Marcy’ll have to sing all night.”
“And dance on Sunday,” Tiffany said with a grin.
“What’s that?” Ted asked.
“Inside joke,” she told him.
Chapter Sixteen
On Saturday morning, I was surprised that the first customer to come into the Seven-Year Stitch was Melanie Carstairs. She had her dark brown hair swept back into a ponytail, and she wore jeans and a yellow sweater. She looked much more comfortable—in every way—than she had last night.
“Mrs. Carstairs, what a pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Please call me Melanie. I heard you say last night that you own this place, and I’ve been wanting to learn some form of embroidery—something that isn’t too hard—that I can do when I’m sitting with Brendan while he’s playing or sleeping.”
I took her over to the shelves and showed her beginning cross-stitch kits. “Or, even simpler, you could do some hand embroidery.” I handed her a book called Stitch the Halls! by Sophie Simpson. “There are several projects in here, and the author lets you know the difficulty level and the estimated time of completion for each.”
“Oh, this looks like fun.” Melanie thumbed through the pages. “I think I could do this.”
“I’m certain you can. Would you like to get started?”
“You mean you’ll help me?”
I smiled. “Of course.”
She bought the pattern book, a wooden hoop, some embroidery needles, some canvas, and a variety pack of floss. Then we went over to the sofa and got started.
Melanie hadn’t shown much interest in Angus when she’d come into the shop, so he merely remained by the window, where he watched the world go by as Melanie and I began her first embroidery project. I was able to get her well on her way before another customer came in. When I returned to the sofa, I was pleased by how much progress Melanie had made and told her so.
“Thanks. I’m enjoying this. It’s relaxing.”
“I admire you. I know it has to be tough being a full-time caregiver,” I said.
“I admire Brendan. The poor baby has been through a lot.” She blinked back tears. “And I know he’s getting the best possible care. His doctors are wonderful. But I wish I could do more to help him.”
“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”
“As a mom, yes. But I want to be on the front lines, you know? For Brendan and for other sick children. I applied for the hospital administrator position when it came open earlier this year. I’d hoped to make some inroads at Tallulah County General. But the job went to someone else.”
“Aw, I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you.”
“Thanks.” She went back to working on the Christmas ornament she was stitching.
“I met the hospital administrator—Ms. Vincent. She’s the one who got the job over you?”
Melanie nodded. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if Sandra had been more qualified than I, but she wasn’t. In fact, she was less qualified. I have a master’s degree in health administration. She only had a bachelor’s degree in business administration.”
“Then how in the world did she get the job over you?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I needed to play dumb.
She shrugged. “Bellamy’s best guess is that she knew someone on the board who was able to sway a majority of the members to vote her way.”
“I’m so sorry. I think you would’ve been great in that position.”
“I know I would have. Brendan doesn’t need me at home all that much. He has a nanny or a teacher with him during most of the day now, so I’m merely on hand in case of emergencies. If I’d got that administrator position, I could’ve been making policy changes and budgeting and hosting fund-raisers to get our researchers the funding they need to help these sick children.”
“I hate to be indelicate, but the job is open again, right?”
“It is.”
“Are you going to try again?”
“I might,” she said softly. “I want to feel useful. There’s not a more desperate feeling in the world than having a sick child and not being able to cure him.”
* * *
Vera came into the shop not long after Melanie had left. By then, I was working on my own Christmas ornaments. She came over and sat down beside me, peering over at my cloth to see what I was making.
“Oh, it’s a little church. I love it!”
“Consider your hint dropped, Ms. Langhorne.”
She laughed. “Thank you. Subtlety is my strong suit.”
“Oh yeah.” I laughed, too. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m great. I slept in. It was a pretty fun party last night, don’t you think? Or did you? You seemed to disappear awfully early.”
“Jackson was getting sleepy, so I took him upstairs so Mark and Tiffany could enjoy themselves a little longer.”
“Making nice with the in-laws.” She winked. “Good strategy.”
“They aren’t my in-laws. But I do feel like I made a little headway with Tiffany last night.”
“That’s wonderful, hon. I knew she’d come around if she’d just allow herself to get to know you.”
Angus ambled over to greet Vera. She scratched his head and talked with him for a couple of minutes before turning to me again.
“Did you find out anything interesting from the Carstairs?”
I set aside my cross-stitch project so I could give Vera my full, splayed-hands expression of disbelief. “Are you ready for this? Dr. Carstairs rented the elf costume. And he wants me to put it on tomorrow to visit with Brendan, who’s coming home from the hospital later today.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re going to have to back up on this one. The man went out and rented an elf costume for you?”
“No. He rented the elf costume for me.” I waved my hands. “All right. I’ll start at the beginning.” I explained how Veronica had introduced us and how Dr. Carstairs had insisted that I bring Angus for a visit with Brendan tomorrow as a welcome-home deal. “I told him I’d returned the elf costume, and he said he’d rented it and had it dry cleaned and that it would be waiting for me at their house to put on when I arrive.”
She blinked. “Okay, is it just me, or is that borderline creepy?”
“I think it steps over the border a little bit. I couldn’t come to the house as Marcy? I have to be an elf? I even suggested we tell Brendan that it was my day off from the North Pole.”
“Talk about your control freaks. Dr. Carstairs is going to have his way or else, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “So, Angus, Ted, and I are going over there tomorrow. Ted offered to come along right in front of Dr. Carstairs, so the good doctor couldn’t exactly refuse. Ted can help me wrangle Angus, and I believe he intends to do some snooping while I entertain Brendan.”
At the mention of his name, Angus thumped his tail against the floor.
“I do have something interesting to tell you,” I continued. I went on to inform Vera how Melanie Carstairs had been in this morning to buy some embroidery supplies. “She began talking with me about the hospital-administrator position while we worked on her project. She really should’ve had that job, Vera. If what Melanie says is true, she was more qualified than Sandra Vincent.”
“But you and I know, thanks to Veronica, that Bellamy Carstairs was the reason Melanie didn’t get the job.”
“Right. She’s thinking of applying again, now that the job is open. I don’t know how Bellamy will keep her from getting it this time.”
“Marcy, the man rented an elf costume and insisted you wear it. He’ll find a way to keep his wife home and out of his business.”
“True. I just think it’s a shame. They’re married and they have a sick child. I’d think he’d want to work with his wife, not against her.” I sighed. “So, did you find out anything interesting at the party?”
“I did. You know that Martin Brothers Construction company?”
“Please tell me they didn’t build Veronica’s condominium.”
She smiled. “No. At least, not that I’m aware of. But one of the women who was at the party has a daughter who’s a nurse at Tallulah County General. She was very proud of the fact that her Carrie was engaged to one of the Martin brothers.”
“Wait. Did she give her daughter’s last name?”
“No, why?”
I told Vera about meeting John Martin at Carrie Monahan’s desk on Thursday evening.
Her eyes widened. “So, one of the Martin brothers is dating the head nurse of the pediatric ward . . . who also applied for the hospital-administrator position.”
“Right. And if Carrie and Melanie Carstairs are the only applicants for the position this time, I’d say Carrie will be awarded the job.”
“And then Martin Brothers Construction will be sitting pretty for any other construction projects that open up.”
“True. But they already are,” I said. “Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe it’s the Martin brothers who got Carrie as far in the application process as she got the first time around.”
“And maybe one of them did in Sandra Vincent to allow his girl to aspire to her lofty career goals.”
* * *
Ted called around noon to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to leave work and come for lunch today. I was disappointed, but I understood.
“How about tonight I take you to Zefferelli’s?” he asked.
Zefferelli’s was our favorite Italian restaurant.
“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “And, in that case, I’m glad we’re not having a big lunch.”
He chuckled. “Be thinking about what you want.”
“I already know. The chicken parm.”
“Me, too.”
We said our good-byes, and then I locked the front door and walked down to MacKenzies’ Mochas for a cappuccino and a small salad.
I’d just paid and was getting ready to walk out of MacKenzies’ when John Martin walked in.
“Oh, hi,” I said.
He didn’t give me any indication that he recognized me.
“I’m Marcy. Better known at Tallulah County General as Marcy the Elf.”
“Yeah. How are you?” His voice was flat. He didn’t care how I was.
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“Busy.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping that since I ran into you, I might ask you about a project I’m thinking about.” I gave a shrug of nonchalance. “But that’s okay. My mom’s a costume designer in Hollywood. I’m sure she can recommend someone to come out and give me a quote.”
It was shameless, I know. But, as expected, dropping the fact that Mom was a costume designer in Hollywood made the man see dollar signs.
“I guess I can spare a couple of minutes. Grab us a table while I get my coffee.”
“Great.” I smiled. “Thanks.” I hoped Blake would take his time getting Mr. Martin’s order ready. I had to come up with this fictional project I’d apparently been thinking about.
I stepped back over to the counter and told Blake I was going to sit down for a few minutes rather than taking my salad to go.
He gave me a funny look and then told me that was fine. I stared at him hard, trying to communicate with him telepathically. Stall him. Blake looked confused. I gave him a tight smile and then sat down at the nearest table. It was a small table with only two chairs, and I sat where Blake and I could easily see each other. If things went south, Blake would probably bail me out. He’d been like a big brother to me since I’d been Sadie’s college roommate, and I knew he’d keep an eye on me.
