The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade (12 page)

Millie folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a glare. “You're being purposefully obstinate.”

He shook his head. “I've done a careful examination of our financial resources, and made some assumptions about the cost of renovations on that monstr”—he changed the word—“on the Updyke house, and that's what we need in order to make this work.”

“I doubt thirteen thousand dollars will make that much of a difference in your calculations.”

“Thirteen thousand dollars won't begin to cover the cost of a new roof,” he shot back. “If we're going to buy a house that old we'll need every cent we can scrape together.”

“All right.” Louise cut smoothly into their conversation before it escalated into a full-fledged argument. “One eighty-five it is. We'll see what kind of activity that generates.”

She flipped over another few pages, extracted the pen from her hair, and wrote the figure in the appropriate place. “Now let's go over the offer document. I want to make sure you don't have any questions before you sign.”

Feeling as though he had won a major victory, Al endured the next half hour and listened more or less attentively while the realtor explained each paragraph of both contracts. He stole the occasional glance at Millie, who eventually stopped fuming, though the hard set to her lips did not soften. They signed their names a dozen times and their initials two dozen more before the ordeal was over.

Finally Louise shuffled the whole mess into a neat stack and shoved it into her briefcase. “I'll make copies and drop them by tomorrow.”

“What do you think the Updykes will say to our offer?” Apprehension flooded Millie's question.

Louise gave an elegant shrug as she rose. “We'll know in a few days. I'll call you the minute I have their response.”

Al stood and shook her hand, but remained in the kitchen while Millie walked her to the front door. Hushed whispers drifted back to him, but he couldn't make out the words. No doubt comparing notes on what a stubborn old poop he was. That was okay. He'd put his foot down, stuck to his guns, and gotten his way. A successful evening by his reckoning, though no doubt his wife would disagree. Perhaps a peace offering would be in order.

When she returned, he spoke first. “How about we go out to dinner? It's going to be a mild night. We could walk down to the Bistro.”

Her favorite of the town's three restaurants, though a little pricier than he liked. She studied him with a shrewd, narrow-eyed stare, obviously not fooled one bit. Not that he'd expected her to be. His Millie was too sharp for that.

But she was also a peace-loving woman. Her expression cleared and she shook her head. “There's no sense spending the money when we have so many leftovers. Let's stay in.”

That suited Al just fine. He left her bustling around the kitchen, pulling dishes out of the fridge, and headed to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. As he passed the front window, he paused to watch Louise pound a huge, ugly For Sale sign in his front yard. It wouldn't be there long, of that he was confident.

Al had just settled into his recliner after a delicious dinner of leftover anniversary roast beef when the phone rang. Rufus leaped up to sound an alarm, just in case they had not noticed. He and Millie eyed each other.

“It's your turn,” Al told her.

“No it's not.”

“Yes it is. I got it when Doug called the other day.”

With a resigned sigh Millie set her knitting in the basket and heaved herself out of her chair. Rufus trotted after her into the kitchen. Al sat back and returned his attention to the TV screen. Someday he would install a telephone line here in the family room. They had the cordless in the kitchen but never remembered to bring it with them when they settled in front of the television for the night.

A squeal from the kitchen brought him upright in his recliner. Millie came running into the room, the phone clutched in her hand, eyes dancing.

“They took it! They took our offer!”

“Huh?” Numbness stole over Al's brain like fog creeping over a river. He was vaguely aware that somewhere in the distance dark
clouds gathered on the horizon of his future. His carefully laid plan, designed to ensure a peaceful retirement spent traveling the country, had unexpectedly hit a roadblock on the first step.

“They accepted $500,000?” He could barely choke the words out. Surely the Updyke brothers were not
that
desperate for money.

Millie waved an impatient hand in his direction and then stuck a finger in her left ear, focusing on whatever she was hearing through the telephone. “Okay. Yes, of course. I think that's perfectly reasonable. I'm sure Al won't mind agreeing to that.”

“Mind agreeing to what?”

Millie unplugged her ear and placed a hand over the receiver. “They want to add a kick-out clause. I'll explain in a minute.”

A kick-out clause? Did that mean they were reserving the right to come down at a future date and kick them out of the house? No, surely not. Al perched on the edge of the recliner and watched Millie's face as she listened.

“Are you serious? No other conditions?” A pause. “All right. I'll go over that with Al, and we'll drop by tomorrow when he gets off of work to sign the papers.” She giggled—actually giggled—and said, “Thank you so much, Louise. I can't tell you how excited I am!” She punched the disconnect button and launched herself across the room. In the next moment Al found his lap full of Millie. “We're going to buy the Updyke house! Oh Al, I can hardly believe it.”

Al could hardly believe it himself. “What's a kick-out clause?”

“If someone comes along with a better offer before we close on the house, the Updykes have the right to accept that offer instead of ours.” A frown tugged at the corners of Millie's mouth. “Louise says she doesn't think that's likely, because no one else has looked at the property at all. But the house just went on the market. Word may spread, and our offer is awfully low.”

One ray of hope in an otherwise gloomy situation, as far as Al was concerned. “We still have to sell this house,” he warned. “And don't forget my condition about the inspection.”

“I know.” She threw her arms around his neck for another squeeze. “But if it's meant to be, everything will fall into place. And I believe it's meant to be.” Then she bounced out of his lap and began punching numbers into the handset as she dashed from the room. “I've got to call Violet. She won't believe it.”

The sound of enthusiastic chatter drifted through the kitchen doorway. Alone in the family room, Al stared morosely at his slippers. He was not ready to concede victory yet. He had placed several high hurdles on the path before them, and he would not lower a single one. If Millie thought he'd been stubborn as a post before, she was about to meet an unyielding force the likes of which she'd never encountered in her heretofore indulgent husband. No budging, not even an inch.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost important ground in this battle of wills.

Chapter Nine

I
'm going on vacation,” announced Doc Forsythe. “Leaving tomorrow.”

The past week has been dismal enough to dampen Susan's enthusiasm about her new business. In fact, she almost backed out of the deal entirely two days ago while standing in the loan officer's office with a pen poised above the empty signature line, ready to sign the papers. But Daddy's confidence bolstered her, and now the loan was a done deal. The money was in the process of being transferred, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She clutched the edge of the reception desk and tried to school the panic out of her voice. “What do you mean you're going on vacation? You can't desert me.”

“Of course I can.” The older man gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder. “You are doing just fine.”

Seated in her rolling chair behind the reception counter, Millie remained silent, but her eyebrows arched at the remark.

“Fine?” Susan's voice squeaked. “I've examined exactly three animals in the past ten days. And one of those was a drop-off. When the owner picked him up she was furious that you hadn't completed the examination.” She whirled toward Millie for verification. “Isn't that right?”

The ever-honest receptionist conceded with a reluctant nod. “She wasn't thrilled.”

“Creekers are a stubborn bunch,” Doc agreed. “But don't worry. You'll grow on them.”

“I don't think I'll grow on them by tomorrow.”

Doc's expression became serious. “My leaving is the best thing that can happen to you at this point. When I'm gone they'll have nobody else to turn to. They'll have to come here, and that's your chance to prove yourself.”

“You don't think they'll start taking their pets out of town?” A hint of desperation crept into the question.

The older man toyed with a new growth of gray hair on his upper lip. “Some of them probably will.” Her spirits sank toward the floor. “But emergencies are bound to happen. Animals get sick, and their owners will call here out of habit. If you're the only doctor available…” He shrugged.

“They'll be stuck with me.” She tried not to sound like a sullen child.

“They'll be happy to have a competent, qualified veterinarian right in town,” he corrected.

Before she could voice her next question, Millie did. “Why the short notice? Surely you didn't just decide to pick up and go on vacation last night.”

“Why not?” A wide grin settled on his face. “We're retiring. We're learning to be spontaneous. Lizzie found a good deal on a last-minute rental in Orlando and made some calls. We're going to check out a few retirement communities while we're down there, including the one my mother lives in.”

“Who'll be covering afternoons at the desk?” Millie placed her hands on the reception counter in a possessive manner.

“Lizzie's going to contact Hazel and Carol this morning. If you're interested in picking up a few extra hours, you can have as many as you want.”

She looked thoughtful a moment. “Actually, I could use the extra money for my renovation fund. Just for a week, though. I don't want a full-time job.”

“Fine. Give Lizzie a call.” He turned a kind look toward Susan. “I suggest you start interviewing for a replacement immediately. When we return my wife wants to cut her hours way back so she can start packing for the move. The house is going on the market tonight.”

A lump lodged in Susan's throat, and she managed a nod.

“Good luck with that,” Millie said darkly, a frown on her customarily cheerful face. “We haven't had a single looker, and it's been over a week.”

Susan's mind whirled. Interview for a new receptionist? She didn't even know if she could afford to continue paying Millie her part-time wage.

“And of course we'll board Ajax here.” Doc gave her a pleasant pat on the arm. “See, there's your first solo customer.”

“Ajax?”

“A bull terrier mix Lizzie and I adopted a few years ago,” he said. “A bit on the rambunctious side, but smart as a whip. You'll love him.”