Operation: Normal (9 page)

Wow. Esme sure trusted this Roy dude, a pen pal that I knew her two grown daughters
did not know about. More than once I'd retrieved his letters for Esme from a post office box she'd
secretly rented.

"I'll watch Kayly for you while you get it. Then we'll ask Buddy to help you bring it to
my apartment. You can hook it up for me. You do know how, don't you, dear?"

"Uh-huh, if it's not too complicated. But there's no need to bother Buddy. Zach would
probably help me get it upstairs. We'll borrow Mr. Stanley's dolly." Mr. Stanley was the building
manager.

"Who's Zach?" asked Adele.

"A new friend of ours."

Esme's pale blue eyes lit up; she grabbed my arm. "Boyfriend? Have you broken up with
that hunky Heath?"

What! I caught Adele's quick smile and relaxed a little. "Heath's not my boyfriend,
Esme. You know that. As for Zach, he's just a guy Kayly and I are hanging with this morning.
He's picking us up in thirty minutes." For some reason I didn't feel like explaining Zach's real
relationship, even to Adele, who would actually get it.

Esme nodded absently. "That's nice. How's your mom, dear?"

"She called last night and said the tour was going well."

"And which tour is that?"

"The overseas tour she's on right now, remember? I told you about it Sunday." I didn't
mention Blak Magyk on the remote chance Esme knew who they were. She watched a lot of
television.

"Hmm," she said, an answer that told me she'd forgotten.

"Are you and Kayly doing okay on your own?" asked Adele.

"Sure," I said, wondering if she somehow knew the nanny news. "But there is something
I'd like to talk to you about later if you've got time."

"Call me. Better yet, you and Kayly drop by."

"We will." I turned to Esme. "Do you have some kind of receipt or something for your
PC?"

She did, which told me she and Roy must have had a face-to-face at some point. Or
maybe he'd mailed it to her. I knew some of the other seniors in the building, the ones who still
got around okay, sometimes checked Esme's post office box for her, too. Anyway, we rode up to
three, and I got it. Then Kayly and I went to our apartment and began to scan the real estate ads
while we waited for Zach.

He got there about five minutes after nine. We loaded Kayly and her bag into the
stroller, and were quickly on our way to the park, about six blocks away.

The sky stretched over us like a blue umbrella with one fiery golden polka dot as we
spread a quilt on the ground under a shade tree and settled Kayly on it. I handed her a toy. Zach
sat so he could lean against the treetrunk. I sat a couple of feet away and handed him that day's
classifieds.

"We'll circle the ones that sound promising, then we'll check them out on the
internet."

"My laptop's in my car," said Zach.

"Or we can just use Mom's."

"Okay. What do you have in mind after that?"

"Calling the realtors. I want to walk through the houses."

He frowned. "You really think they'll let us take a look?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Because we don't have any money."

"They won't know that, and if they guess, I'll explain how I want to present mom with a
list of possibilities when she gets home."

Though Zach clearly wasn't as sure about everything as I was, we talked about the sort
of house I wanted: three bedrooms, at least two baths, family room, nice yard, good school zone.
I had a reasonable idea of what kind of payment Mom could handle, based on the amount of rent
we currently paid, so tried to stay in our price range, too.

Zach clearly had some doubts about the realtors, but his matter-of-fact attitude about
everything else really pleased me. I mean, how many eighteen-year-old girls want to look at real
estate? But he not only accepted that I did, he wanted to help.

In about forty-five minutes, we'd picked out enough houses to make a trip to the
apartment worthwhile. We ran into Adele again on the way into the building. She gave Zach an
obvious and thorough once over, then gave me a thumbs up behind his back. That flustered me
for some reason.

The realtor's web sites were helpful, but I definitely wanted to see the places in person.
If a picture was worth a thousand words, then an actual visit might be worth a million, right?

I used my cell to call the numbers listed in the paper, but hit my first snag almost
immediately. Apparently I sounded as young as I looked. The agent didn't take me seriously,
which really ticked me off. She actually asked to speak to my mom or dad three different times. I
finally hung up on her and looked at Zach in complete frustration.

"She thinks I'm ten years old."

He nodded as if that didn't surprise him at all. "Let me try."

I handed him my cell. He called the next realtor with much better results, probably
because of his deep voice. Or maybe it was the fib he told about being a newly married college
student, transferring to UT from UCLA. He said that his parents lived in town and were so
thrilled to have him back in Texas that they were helping us buy a house. To my delight, that
story earned him two appointments to view houses--one in an hour, the other around one this
afternoon.

When Zach shut my phone and handed it back, his gaze raked me. "Do you think you
could put on something that would make you look a little older? I'm not sure I want the realtors
thinking I knocked up a thirteen year old."

I glanced down at my capris, tank, and flipflops. "Good idea."

"And maybe more make-up?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I do have a baby face, don't I?"

Zach didn't comment, but he didn't have to. Leaving him to watch Kayly, I went to my
room and put on a push-up bra. I found a sun dress that fit me really well, plus some slides with a
fairly high heel.

I next went to the bathroom and redid my face, focusing on my eyes, in particular. I
added shadow, liner, more mascara and felt pleased with the results. I also gelled my hair so that
it stood up a little on top, a look I usually saved for special occasions. I borrowed some of Mom's
jewelry to complete the outfit, carefully tucking the chain with my diary key dangling from it
into the neck of the dress, since it looked very juvenile. Hoping I hadn't overdone it--Zach had on
casual clothes, after all--I headed back to the living area.

Kayly's big brother, now sitting on the couch with her, rewarded my efforts to look
grownup with a look of utter shock and what could only be admiration, though he quickly--and
rather poorly, I was delighted to note--masked it. I had to wonder why he bothered. Did our
mutual connection to Kayly have him a little spooked? It was sort of weird for us both to be so
closely related to her, yet not to each other.

"Jumping Jehoshaphat! That worked even better than I expected," he said, clearly
flustered. His gaze narrowed. "In fact, your transformation is a little scary."

"Why?" I demanded, looking down at the dress even as I mentally added
jumping
Jehoshaphat
to the list of Zach's expressions I'd started last night. "Do I look bad?"

"No. Hell no. That's not what I meant at all." He gave me an apologetic shrug. "I just
experienced uncharacteristic sympathy for bartenders trying not to sell booze to minors."

I laughed at that and sat on the couch to take Kayly from him. "Would you do me a huge
favor?"

"Sure. Anything."

I explained about Esme's PC.

"She asked you to get it?" He looked a little confused for some reason.

I nodded and explained. "Mom and I run errands for her now and then. In turn, she baby
sits some, though we may have to rethink that." I frowned as I recalled our conversation that
morning. "She seemed a little more absent-minded today than usual. Didn't even remember that
Mom was on tour."

"Oh." He nodded as if he suddenly got it. "I don't mind helping out. In fact, we have
time to go pick it up now if you want."

So Zach carried Kayly's car seat to his SUV, where I supervised his safely securing it. It
took a good half hour to pick up Esme's new PC by the time we waited in line, and loaded it.
Following the realtor's directions, Zach drove to the neighborhood in which our first possible
was located. We checked out everything--other dwellings, the conditions of the lawns and
streets, nearby conveniences, all the stuff that matters when buying a new house. All things
considered, I found the location infinitely do-able.

The realtor, who introduced herself as Carol Whitley, greeted us warmly and escorted us
inside the house in question. She showed us each and every room, constantly complimenting us
on what a handsome couple we made and how cute Kayly was. Zach told her he worked for his
grandfather's company, which was actually true, and that I was a student, too, also true. About a
half hour into the tour, I handed Kayly to him and found a notepad in my purse. On it, I scribbled
good points I wanted to remember, as well as a couple of bad ones that might ultimately
influence our decision.

Forty-five minutes after we went in the house, we stood on the front sidewalk for a
couple of minutes while Carol told us about three more places we might like. She mentioned that
she could show us houses that other realtors had listed, something I didn't know. Zach arranged
for us to look at the houses she'd suggested.

Once we got into his SUV, I asked Zach if my house hunt would interfere with his work
schedule. He told me he worked at night mostly, when employees of his granddad's business
weren't using the company software.

Zach glanced at his watch and suggested an early lunch. We settled on KFC, which we
took back to the park. I let Kayly crawl in the grass this time, making sure she didn't eat any of it,
of course. I preferred that she stick to mashed potatoes and gravy. She adored those, by the way,
and smacked noisily on them while her jewel blue eyes sparkled in appreciation.

Zach and I laughed at her a lot. I could tell he loved his baby sister more by the minute.
And in turn, I sort of began to love him. I could barely believe that I'd only met the guy Tuesday
night. I felt like I'd known him my whole life.

One o'clock rolled around surprisingly quickly. Zach drove to the house in question. We
scoped out the neighborhood, before pulling into the drive of a brick and frame dwelling with a
huge, sloping front yard. I immediately found my notepad in my purse and wrote the address and
mowing expense on it because that would definitely be something to consider if Mom liked this
house.

The realtor was Tim Shell. Zach introduced himself, then the baby in his arms, then me.
I felt like Tim's gaze sort of lingered longer than it should on my dress, which was a big
eeuw
. He seemed a little slimy, more like one of those awful used car salesmen who
shout in local commercials instead of a reputable, experienced realtor.

And he was sort of sneaky. By that, I mean he suggested Zach check out the back yard,
then ushered me into the walk-in kitchen pantry, which was way too small for two people. I felt
uneasy the second he stepped in behind me, then had to brush past him to get quickly out. When
Zach reentered the kitchen, he didn't look happy.

"Did that perv touch you?" he quietly asked as we followed Tim to the bedrooms.

I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was any kind of confrontation, though I did
appreciate Zach's concern.

"What do you think of this house?" Zach said.

"It's okay."

"But not wonderful?"

"No."

"This isn't going to work for us, Tim," said Zach, abruptly ending the tour. He draped an
arm across my shoulders and guided me right out the front door.

Tim scurried behind us. "I have a couple of others you might like," he said, his
entreating eyes on me instead of my "husband".

I guess that did it for Zach. "We'll pass."

You should've seen Tim's expression.

I burst out laughing the minute we all got situated in the SUV again. When Zach's scowl
didn't immediately vanish, I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oh, come on," I said. "I just overdid the make-up thing, okay? Even that jerk wouldn't
come on to a thirteen year old." I deliberately echoed the age Zach mentioned earlier that
day.

"I don't know about that," he muttered as he twisted the key in the ignition and started
the motor. "I could see him being arrested in one of those sting operations for soliciting a
minor."

I laughed again. Not that the subject was funny. It wasn't. But Zach's outrage was,
especially considering I wasn't thirteen, but eighteen and knew how to protect myself, thanks to
my feminist mom's insisting I take self-defense a couple of years ago. Besides, Tim hadn't really
done anything but look, and I knew what he saw: a girl wearing too much make-up and a
push-up bra.

Zach gave me reluctant half grin that eventually widened to full. Clearly in a better
mood, he drove us back to the apartment building. While he waited with Kayly in the foyer, I
borrowed Mr. Stanley's dolly. Zach loaded it at the SUV, then manned it all the way up the
elevator to three and Esme's apartment.

"We've got it!" I exclaimed the minute Esme opened the door. She squealed and clapped
her hands like I'd have done, oh, ten years ago. That made Zach grin almost as much as her
grasping him by the shoulders, commenting what a handsome young man he was, and asking
where I found him.

The whole time Zach worked to set up everything and connect all the cords, Esme
rattled on about her precious Roy. She talked about how lonely and isolated he was and how
much he enjoyed hearing about everyone in the building.

Naturally I wondered what she'd said about Mom and me. Esme loved to gossip almost
as much as she loved us, so I felt like it was probably more than ol' Roy needed to know.
Suddenly curious, I asked where and when Esme met him.

"A month ago right here in this building," she told us. "We got on the elevator together.
I remember thinking how he reminded me of Christopher Plummer, the actor."