Secrets and Revelations (Bellingwood #4) (17 page)

"Oh, you do. But, these people don't know you yet. Couldn't you keep your poor behavior to yourself until they like you first?"

The man looked like a proud little boy whose mother had caught him painting the side of the house with mud and calling it art. "It was funny."

"It wasn't funny," she growled. "These two thought you were real."

"It could have been real. I just need more practice."

Polly felt Henry relax as Nate turned to him and said, "My customers never know what character I'll be when they come into the
store. It drives Joss up the wall, but she has learned to put up with me."

Joss kicked him again and he jumped, "What? I'm being real now."

"You had to pick one of your ruder characters to meet my friend. Why couldn't you have been the star football player or the science teacher or something?"

"Those are old and boring."

Joss spoke to Henry and Polly. "The only good thing about this is that he is generally involved in a play at the Boone Community Theater. It takes a lot of pressure off. But summers are hell around our house. He doesn't have a character to focus on and makes up his own."

Polly chuckled, "Maybe you need another hobby!"

"Oh, he has hobbies. We had to build an extra garage for his cars."

Henry quietly raised his head and smiled, "Cars? Classic cars, by any chance?"

"Yep. My favorite is my 1962 Chevy Impala 2-door hardtop."

"Is that the red one I've seen around town? That's yours?" Henry exclaimed.

"That's my baby. I have a 65 Fastback that I'm in the middle of restoring and a 1970 Chevelle that is in pieces. But the Impala was my first love."

"Mine is a 1955 Thunderbird,” Henry said.
“My grandfather bought it new. There hasn't been a lot of restoration necessary. He and Dad took care of it and now it's mine."

"I'd love to see it! You should come over some time. When I'm not at work, I'm out in the shop messing with my cars."

"Are you going to take it up to the show Saturday?"

"Of course. She like
s to be out in public, struttin’ her stuff. I try to take her to four or five shows every summer, just to make her look pretty."

Henry shook his head, "I've never thought about doing that. This is the first year Bellingwood Days has had a car show, so I figured why not."

"You'll love it! If it is in original condition, you should show it off!"

Polly looked at Joss and rolled her eyes. "I was worried because they weren't going to get along and now I'm worried because they will."

"If you get Nate talking about cars, he'll be here all night. There is nothing he loves more than to have someone interested in his hobby."

"I had no idea. Last Christmas Henry picked me up in his Thunderbird for our first date and he was so proud of it, I knew I had to find out what it was all about. But, there are so many cars and engines. How do they ever keep it straight?"

Joss chuckled, "Nate tells me it’s the same part of the brain I use to keep my favorite books and authors organized." She winked at Polly. "Who was your favorite character in Lord of the Rings?"

"Sam, of course," Polly responded.
             

"And which of the sisters dies in Little Women?"

"Beth," Polly said and dropped the corners of her lips. "That always makes me cry, no matter how many times I read the books."

Nate crossed his eyes at them. "You two talk about the strangest things. And of course, Sam is the best character in Lord of the Rings."

"Don't let him fool you," Joss poked her husband in the side. "He loves the movies and reads all the time. He's a science fiction junkie."

"You're really all that, aren't you, Nate?" Polly laughed.

"I have to be. Little Miss Gorgeous thinks it is all very attractive and this body will only get me so far. I have to keep up with her."

Polly and Joss watched as the two men
talked and ate dinner and it was finally time to leave.

When she and Henry got back in the truck, she said, "Okay, he really scared me. I knew you weren't going to like the car salesman."

"It was a little strange," Henry replied. "I couldn't believe you had set me up like that, but I realized it wasn't your fault. Joss seems like a nice person. How would you know he was a jerk?"

"But then what did you think?"

"I'm going over to his shop tomorrow night while you're at band rehearsal. I want to see what he's got. It should be fun."

"You are?
I heard you two talking, but I guess I just shut you out at some point."

"He'll be fun. But I'm not joining the community theater. Let's get that straight right now."

"No problem," she said through her laughter. "Unless he needs you to build sets, right?"

"Hell no. Not even that. I know what happens when you get involved with those people. The next thing you know someone thinks you'd make a great Father Time and you're onstage with a few lines. After that they want you to play Brick from ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ because you have that look. Don't you make me do it. Promise?"

"That sounds really personal."

"I'm not talking about it. Those were dark, dark days."

"What are you not talking about? You have to tell me!"

"No." He sat back against the car door and looked at her. "I'm not talking about it. Maybe someday when you know me better, I'll tell you tales of my life in theater. But, it's not a story for the faint of heart."

"It can't be that bad."

"When they insisted I sing because they were going to do ‘South Pacific,’ I ran for the hills, never to set foot on a stage again. That's all you need to know."

"I'm sorry. I'm going to need to know more than that or I'm not taking you home. You are going to be my hostage."

Henry reached for the door handle. "I'm not telling."

"You're no fun," Polly pouted.

He laughed at her. "I'll tell you the whole sordid story someday, but a girl made me do it and I'm not going to let a girl make me do it again."

"I'll hold you to that. I suppose it is late." She drove down the street to his home and pulled into the driveway again. "Will you be at Sycamore House tomorrow?"

"I want to make sure things are buttoned up on the addition so we can close down for the week. None of the workmen will be there. It should be pretty quiet."

He reached across and kissed her. She turned to touch their lips together.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," she said. "I'm glad you did."

"Me too. I like him, and Joss seems nice."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as he got out of the truck. She watched as he went up the front steps and into the house.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Joss.
"Nate had fun. Those boys are getting together tomorrow night! I'm sorry he was such a weirdo at the beginning."

"Henry had fun too, though I was worried at first. Your husband is a nut!"

"He needs more friends. Thanks for making this happen."

"Cool. Talk to you later!"

She drove home and when she pulled into her garage, she took her phone back out and texted Henry,
"I'm home and heading upstairs. Good night."

"Good night pretty girl. I love you!"

"Love you too.”

Even Polly knew that b
and rehearsal had been rocky, but the director hadn't acted as if he was concerned. She only hoped that wasn't a facade. The concert was happening Friday evening no matter what. He pushed them through the pieces and then released them for the evening. Jeff invited her to go to the Alehouse, but she was ready for bed. The day had gone smoothly, the quilts were in place, everyone was where they belonged and she was finished. They had walked together up to the elementary school and she looked forward to a walk home, a quick run with Obiwan and some time with her books. Those had been haunting her for the last several days. All she found time for was a chapter or two each evening. That didn't propel her through the story quickly enough to satisfy her and she was ready to dig in.

She went outside into the cool evening air and walked across the parking lot, waving at several people she knew who were yelling for her to join them. All of a sudden, a pickup truck roared up beside her and stopped. Polly chuckled.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked Henry who had his left arm resting in the window and his right arm slung casually across the back of the seat.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nope. I just wanted to see you and since you have so many things going on all the time, I decided to kidnap you. It's your choice. You come to my house or I'm coming over to your apartment. Get in."

"Yes sir!" Polly said and walked around in front of the truck to get to the passenger side. She climbed into the cab and pulled her seatbelt on. "Do you care if it's my place? I should deal with Obiwan."

"No, that sounds great." He dangled a grocery bag in front of her. "I brought treats."

"You are going to be the death of me! The only reason I have anything like this in my freezer is because you keep bringing them to me."

"Look before you whine, baby."

"What is this stuff?"

"I told you, I brought treats."

"But you didn't bring anything for me." There were cat treats and dog treats and even a bag of something for her horses.

"Well, I always bring things for you, but I figured it was time I paid attention to the other members of your family. I want them to like me if I'm going to hang around all the time."

"You nut. They always like you. And even though I was whining, I got a little excited about ice cream sandwiches. Now I'm sad."

"Never be sad. I'm always thinking of my girl." He reached under his left leg and handed her a box of ice cream sandwiches. "We probably need to get that into the freezer pretty soon."

"Then we should hurry home. I don't want these to melt before I can eat them. When did you get all this stuff?"

"I was in Boone this afternoon and picked up the animal treats. I just stopped to buy the ice cream sandwiches before I came to get you."

"Were you down there looking for Roy's kids again?"

"No. I don't think I can do anything more about that. Aaron has people looking for them and Roy has contacted everyone he can think of back in Chicago. Unless they show up out of thin air, we're stuck."

"How's he doing?" Polly hadn't seen Henry since early that morning. He'd stopped by to make sure everything was closed up in the addition. Construction was nearly complete and soon she would be decorating four more rooms for guests. The public bathrooms were now usable and she was glad for that. It would eliminate traffic from the back storage room.

"As well as can be expected. We had lunch today and he is just lost. You know, these kids are like his own. He cares for them as much as any parent I've ever known. He invests thousands of hours into their lives, and the amount of money he has in this program and in each of the kids is astronomical. This is ripping him apart."

"Has he ever been married?"

"No. He says he just hasn't found the time. And that's not surprising. Between his law practice and this, there really isn't any time left over. Some nights he ends up sleeping at the center because he doesn't have time to get back to his apartment. He lives in the same place he did when he got out of law school. Told me he's never there, so why should he spend money on anything better? Besides, it's close to the firm."

"Do you think he's happy?"

"Other than this, I'd tell you that he's a very happy man. He loves these boys and he loves working with them. Someday he'll find the right person - someone who can put up with his passions and work. She'll dig right in there with him and make it even easier for him to do all the things he loves doing.
She'll match him hour for hour and remind him that he needs to stop. But until then, I think he's happy."

He stopped in front of her garage and took the bag from her. Polly gathered up her flute and music and they went in and upstairs, through her bedroom and into the living room.

"It doesn't look too bad around here," Henry commented. "I've seen worse."

"It's only Wednesday. This is three and a half days of messy me. By Saturday it will be horrible, unless I make an effort," she laughed.

"Are you ready for ice cream?"

Polly followed him into the kitchen, animals at her feet.
"I think they know you have treats."

"Those are some good noses."
Henry handed Polly the box of ice cream sandwiches and drew a bag of cat treats and a rawhide bone out of the sack. "Are you good with this?" he asked her.

"Sure. Just toss the bone into the living room and we'll get one of these animals out of the way." Henry gave it a gentle toss and Obiwan ran after the bone, grabbed it up in his mouth and slid down on his front paws to gnaw at it.

"He's a goof," she said. "But you've made him a happy goof."

"I have some dental treats for the cats. The clerk said they're pretty good."

"Sure. Go ahead and make friends with them. They'll never leave you alone!"

She poured a couple of glasses of water after opening the box of ice cream and taking out two sandwiches.
Henry took the bag of cat treats and one of the glasses of water and followed her back into the living room.

He glanced over at the boxes they had retrieved from the storage unit. "Have you gone through any of those?"

"No. Not yet."

"Polly, this Ruth Ann is supposed to be here tomorrow or Friday. Have you even heard from her?"

"I haven't checked email this evening." She glanced at her phone. It was flashing. "I don't want to."

He shook his head. "If I could take care of this for you, I would. You know that, right?"

"And it's really enough that you are going to be there with me. I'm just avoiding it. That's all."

The cats were sitting in front of Henry, both of them trying to be as polite as possible.

"You are going to have to give them another one. You brought the bag with you," Polly said.

"I wasn't thinking. He opened it and took out two more tiny treats, then put one on each knee." Luke grabbed his and eyed the other knee, but his mouth was so busy trying to break the treat down that he couldn't stop Leia from taking hers.
With both cats on the floor, Henry returned his attention to Polly.

"Check your email," he said. "Surely you've heard from her about her plans."

She lifted the corner of her upper lip in a snarl and said, "Fine. But only because you won't leave me alone." Flipping open the laptop on the table in front of her, Polly woke it up.

Henry stood and stepped over the cats. He picked up one of the boxes and brought it back to the sofa. "I'm looking in here."

"Fine with me. If you find anything interesting, let me know," she said.

He flipped through file folders quietly until Polly said, "Well, here it is. She finally deigned to give me her travel details."

"What does she say?"

"If I have time for lunch tomorrow, she would like to meet me. If I send her directions, she will come to Bellingwood." Polly took a deep breath. "Or we could go down to Boone. That way she couldn't talk me into letting her see Sycamore House. I wouldn't have to let her into my world if I didn't want to."

"We could do that. Maybe that makes more sense. There are plenty of places to eat in Boone or we could drive over to Ames. You decide - then tell her."

"I could take her to Hickory Park. We've never managed to make it all the way through an entire meal there. Maybe something else would fall apart around here and Jeff would call me to come back. Like a rescue mission."

They'd made two other attempts to eat at Hickory Park in Ames. The first time one of Polly's guests was being threatened and Polly felt as if she needed to return to Sycamore House in a hurry. The second time thieves had broken into the barn, stolen her new tack and upset her horses. She couldn't imagine what might happen in the middle of the day that would demand her immediate return to Bellingwood, but she was willing to take a chance.

"Shall we do that?" she asked.

"Oh, you weren't kidding?"

"No! If I get past the ice cream, we'll figure it was successful. If someone calls me and tells me to hurry back, I will only hope that I am ready for the rescue."

"Then, send her directions and you and I will see if we can make it through an entire meal without having to leave before we’re finished."

Polly typed a return message and sent it, including a link to the restaurant and a screen capture of the map. Now she was committed. By tomorrow afternoon, she would know what the big mystery was.

"I'm so worried that I'm going to be mad at Dad after I hear what this woman has to tell me. I'm mad enough that he died and left me all alone, but what if she makes me hate him. Or what if she tells me something awful about my mother? I have enough trouble remembering her as it is. Can you imagine dropping something awful on top of the memories that I have?"

"That isn't going to happen, Polly. If this woman is a motivational speaker, do you honestly believe that she would contact you simply to give you devastating news about your parents? She's all about ridding herself of negative energy.
Something like that would be exactly the opposite. She would have set it aside years ago and not given you a second thought."

"You are definitely good for me," Polly said. "Are you finding anything interesting in the box?"

"No, this is fairly boring stuff. Your father saved everything. Here's the manual for the clock he bought for your bedroom. See, the file tab says, 'Polly's bedroom clock - purchased 1989.'"

"I remember that clock. It had a cassette player and radio in it. I listened to it all the time."

"Well, here's the manual. Do you suppose the clock is in another box at that storage unit?"

"No, I broke it when I was a sophomore in college. A bunch of us were messing around in the room and I dropped it, then someone stepped on it and it was all over except putting it in the trash."

"You're going to have to go through all of these files. There's going to be a lot of junk in here."

"I wonder if anyone wants these old manuals. You know they have websites where these go to live."

He looked at her through his eye lashes. "You're really going to keep this stuff rather than put it in the recycling container?"

She gave a quick shrug. "I dunno. Maybe. If someone can use it, I'd give it to them."

"Polly, you might as well bring Doug Leon over and let him go through these things."

Doug Leon was a classic hoarder.
Lydia and Andy had taken him under their wing when the Sheriff had discovered how he was living. The man had collected items from kids when he worked as a custodian back when Sycamore House was a school. If things were left in one place too long, he simply picked it up and stored it in crates in a basement room. Now, former students showed up every once in a while to check on the years they were in high school. Sometimes they would find something they had owned and would claim it, but for the most part, they enjoyed the idea that there was a capsule of pop culture on display.

"He's not coming anywhere near my stuff. At least not until I've had a chance to go through it."