Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 04 - Trash Out (37 page)

I changed into a better dress and pumps, way over dressed for the Barn specifically and for Healdsburg in general
, but it was all I had
.
This was not going to be that difficult. 
I anticipated that
all I would be required to do was participate in some
small talk
, kiss Carrie, take two
bites of Ahi tuna and wasabi tart coupled with
three new potatoes and aoli sauce and
drink a
glass of sparkling wine.  It would be an early evening.  I needed to locate Ben
. Maybe
we could
meet and
eat dinner downtown. The phone buzzed as I searched for a
parking
spot, it was Peter K
la
ussen O’Reilly the third. 
I swung around the
Barn’s parking
lot
and
briefly
illuminat
ed
a pedestrian hiking in from another parking area.  Why would O’Reilly call?

I found street parking three blocks away.  Returning O’Reilly’s call would entertain me during the walk back to the restaurant.

“Allison.”

“You don’t sound very good.”

He choked and paused to catch his breath.  I stopped walking.  My hand clutched the phone tightly.

“Cassandra.”

I took a few slow steps forward wary of the uneven sidewalk and lovely trees that would catch at my hair if I didn’t take care.

“Who else knows?”
I breathed.

“I called Ben, he
ask
ed
me
to catch you before the rehearsal dinner.”

I
vaguely
nodded to a
leather-vested
biker waiting in the patio area
.  People spilled out of the lit restaurant and hovered over picnic tables
. All the guests were
armed with large glasses of wine
.   I glanced around and moved to a quiet spot on the very edge of the open space.

“When?”
I tucked my arms close to my body and gripped my phone.  I was cold, my pumps pinched my feet
,
abruptly,
I
was miserable all over.

“This afternoon.  We aren’t saying anything, we don’t want to ruin the wedding.”

Guests crunched on the deconstructed gravel and laughed into the warm October night. I stood in a shadow. Guests were
silhouettes
against the open barn doors,
moving
in and out with ease.
It was a night without sweaters, a night without cares.

“I’m so sorry.” 
I watched
Carrie’s form separate from the group. She stepped outside, glanced around,
then
retreated.
  I only knew Peter O’Reilly through other people, two degrees of separation.  He and Ben carried on a love/ hate relationship, fighting over the same woman, rescuing the same woman.  Now that woman was gone.

“Thanks.
”  He choked,
then
recovered.  “I’m serious, don’t
tell anyone
.”

The
barn
was packed with people
and I couldn’t tell if our group had joined a larger melee or if these were all members of the wedding party
who had somehow missed the rehearsal
but managed to show up for the food
.  I edged my way through
animated conversations and past trays packed with substantial
hors
d’ouvers
that belied the Barn’s reputation.

I hugged Carrie.
“
And
who are all these people?”

“My new
closest
friends.  These are all the out of town guests
,
”
Carrie yelled over the noise. “I don’t know half these people and Patrick
swears
he doesn’t know the other half.”  She took in a deep breath and released it slowly and carefully.  “It doesn’t really matter does it?”

“You are about to launch into a life where you may never know every guest at every party
,
”
I
yelled
.

“The good news is I already know who my real friends are.”

“That would be true, just continue to invite those true
friends
to your shallow
,
fabulous
, stranger filled
parties and we’re good.”
  I watched her
closely;
she was tense, but reasonably pleased.
  I had news, lots of news.  I bit my tongue.  It all could wait. 
Twenty
hours wasn’t much time.  It could wait.

“
So far, they’ve all been very nice
!”  Carrie beamed.  I beamed back
.  “It’s wonderful
,
I’m so happy for you.”
I spotted Kathleen and Claire, they spotted me, but I ducked between a tight
group
of out of town guests.

My phone buzzed
, I jumped.  I couldn’t ignore it. Was I wishing for different news about Cassandra?  Was Debbie
all right
?  Of course
,
i
t was
Marcia, Marcia,
Marcia
.  I
made my way
back
out to the patio to take the call, it was
only marginally quieter outside but I was disinclined to walk into the dark parking lot in the name of better reception.
 

I
steeled
myself for another complaint and another delay, she was usually so good
at
calling me the minute some hitch appeared in the system
and I in turn had been calling her as often as I could just to be annoying. It was a
partnership
made in hell
.
  “Yes?” 
I
admired
the tiny orange lights dangling from the
heavy
branches
of the
live oak
s protecting the patio.
They dimpled
the red picnic tables with yellow light.

“I’m just calling
,
” Marcia explained in a
deadpan
voice.  “To tell you the loan finally closed
.
We record Monday.
How
soon can
your client
be out?”

“I’m excited too
,
” I said.
Oh, is that all, I sold my house. Tears
suddenly
welled up
.
I must be allergic to something in the garden
.

“I’ll
email
a list of what you should leave behind
. Sign
it and
get
it back
to me by
tomorrow
,
”
s
he grimly instructed.

“I’m in a wedding tomorrow
,
”
I pointed out.  “Can it wait until Monday?”

“My clients are very anxious to move
,
” she
continued, ignoring my claims to a life on Saturday
. “You know I
do
every
.
.
”
 

I blew into the receiver.  “
Oh, sorry, I think you’re breaking up.”  I clicked off the phone.

Patrick’s parents appeared in the courtyard. 
Mr. Sullivan
sported a gray
ponytail
that contrasted nicely with his summer weight wool
suit,
Patrick’s
mother wore a long
flowing
black dress
, highlighted b
y
a wide topaz necklace. She limited her good works
to the
north part of the county
–
Geyservil
le
and
the needy in Ukiah because Cooper had a milk
distribution
center there. That’s why Carrie and I hadn’t run into the woman
before;
she’s
not part of the small group of
formidable women in River’s Bend who inflict help and charity wherever they go.  

“Hi,
” I dropped my phone in my bag and approached the couple. “
I’m
Allison
Little with New Century Realty.”

“I’ve hea
r
d of you.” His handshake was warm and firm.  “You found Carrie at the Homeless Prevention League office.”

“Yes, sorry about all that.”  I summed up a Christmas of severe difficulties for just about everyone in one off
-
hand sentence.

“Not important
,
”
h
e assured me.  “
You are a good friend to Carrie, that’s good enough for us.”

“It is?” 

The mother smiled wanly and
inclined
her head but her eyes d
rif
ted to the parking lot just behind me. “We are so excited for Patrick.”

Her husband placed a protective hand on her arm. “We would rather trust people, it’s how we built ou
r
reputation. It’s how we want Patrick to work and be in the world.  Patrick
speaks of
you in the most complimentary of terms.”

I was relieved
.
  “Thank you.  Patrick is lucky to be marrying Carrie.”

We stood in silence for a lengthy minute, I then excused myself to seek out Carrie and say
good-bye
.
I had enough happiness and partying.
I still needed to cry, to mourn.
I saw the Furies first, they would do.

I nudged Claire and she jumped visibly.  “Don’t do that
,
”
s
he snapped.

“Sorry, I have to go, this was lovely,
can
you tell Carrie goodbye?
” I couldn’t even see my friend in the crush of guests jammed into the dining room.
And I did not trust myself at
all;
I may blurt out the terrible truth and ruin her perfect day.  Better I take my increasingly morose self back to my now temporary home.  My chest hurt.

“See you at exactly noon
,”
Claire
tapped her Omega watch
, a birthday gift from Patrick
.  She touched
one
sister on the arm and Kathleen jumped even more
visibly
. I wanted to ask about the coincidence in Claim Jump but the two didn’t really seem up for even a
friendly i
nterrogation.

“Sorry.  Twelve o’clock
.” It seemed a little early, but I wasn’t in charge.

Kathleen nodded mutely as her eyes darted around the room. 
I automatically glanced around but all I saw were happy people celebrating the happy couple. 
As it should be.

I exited with alacrity. 
The big biker guy’s friends must be late for he was still smoking and pacing outside. 
I didn’t bo
ther to acknowledge him again. I dragged my feet to the car, the phone buzzed again, oh
,
honestly.  I noticed it was only seven o’clock as I accepted the call.

“You still up here?”

“I’m just leaving the Barn.”

“Come back to the winery.” 
Ben was terse and for once I did not take it personally.

The Prophesy
Estates tasting room was
brightly lit
. Yellow
squares patterned the dark patio.  I saw Ben through the window,
leaning against
the marble bench.

I walked in and touched his arm.  He looked up and I saw his
features were drawn as if he had been to hell and back.

“O’Reilly got hold of you?
” he
searched my eyes.  I nodded.  He
swallowed and leaned forward
and ran his hands through his hair.  He stared at the
shiny wood floor
.

Jose stood
next to Ben, his arms crossed
like a
silent
sentry.  I walked past both of them and glanced into the office.  The desk and shabby furniture had been cleared of every scrap of paper.  This is where Carrie would dress tomorrow
. Someone
had whisked the paper work away. It hadn’t been Cassandra.