Authors: J.M. Griffin
“Stranger things have happened. We do know how you draw accidents like a magnet.”
I snorted as I stared at this handsome trooper. I shook my head at him in denial.
“I know I’m an accident looking for a place to happen, but I don’t think Tony had anything to do with this. Let it go, Marcus.”
“If that’s what you want.” He shrugged.
Okay, if I weren’t a suspicious sort, I’d have believed Marcus. However, that’s not the way my mind works, so I just stared at him. My face must have registered disbelief.
“Really, if you want me to let it go, I will,” he insisted.
The statement sounded sincere, but I was skeptical at best.
“Good, then this is the last I’ll hear of it, right?” I asked.
“You got it.” He slid from the stool and rounded the counter. His hands smoothed the skin on my arms as he drew me into an embrace. “I’m glad you’re all right. It was difficult to see you suspended, up in the air like that. Whether it was an accident or not, I wanted to rip someone’s head off and stuff it up their butt. Good thing nobody stepped up to confess, huh?”
A chuckle escaped me. It wasn’t funny, but in a weird way it struck my offbeat sense of humor. I kissed Marcus full on and then walked him to the door.
He left for work, and I turned to answer the ringing phone.
Chapter 9
Lola’s familiar voice crossed the distance between us. I smiled and knew she was about to take me shopping for another car.
“Hey, Lola. What’s up?”
“Just wondered if you wanted to go shopping later?” Her voice held humor. My guess was she’d been horrified at the car I’d driven today.
She chuckled. “I guess you made it past the G.W. Bridge today, since you’re home.”
“You know how awful that section of the highway is. Every man for himself and all that. I never knew what hit me and I lost control of the car. By the way, thanks for the loaner car. And for setting up the rental, such as it is. I do need a new one.”
“Anytime you’re ready, give me a holler and we’ll go shopping. Are you hungry? I can scoot something up to you from the deli.”
“Would you? I’m sore and energy depleted. The morning’s activities left me on empty. My shoulder is aching from seat belt strain, too.”
Was I whining or what?
Looking for sympathy, that’s what.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right up,” she promised and hung up.
I started to turn away, and the phone danced off the hook again. I checked the number and realized my mother was on the line.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, flexing the shoulder.
“Dear, I just saw a replay of yesterday’s news. Was that your car?” She gasped. The concern in her voice was unmistakable. “You never let on when you came to dinner.”
“Yeah, I lost control of the car. I’m fine, though. Marcus brought me home.” There was no sense in explaining the whole thing. She’d only get paranoid about it.
“It was an accident, right?”
My eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Yes, it was only an accident. The traffic on that side of the state is always chaotic, Mom.”
“All right then. I’ll have your father bring you some dinner around five tonight. What will you use for a car now, dear?”
“Lola’s cousin rented me a loaner. Lola’s taking me shopping for a new one later. I have to call my insurance man and get that squared away. It’s safe to say the car is a total wreck.”
“Mm, hmm. If you need anything, just let me know, dear.” With that, she ended the call.
A most extraordinary mother – she would hover if I let her, and it would do no good. Then she’d insist I move home, and that would start another issue. Yikes.
A knock on the door announced Lola’s arrival. When I opened the door I saw she carried a brown bag filled to overflowing. Her glance took me in from head to toe, and she started to chuckle. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re just tired. Let me see the shoulder.”
My shirt slipped sideways as I gave it a quick yank. The bluish-purple bruise lay exposed. Lola shook her head in dismay and handed me the bag of wondrous goodies. The delicious smells emanating from these treats made my mouth water.
In a hurry to unload the scrumptious fare, I hustled toward the counter and dumped the contents onto the surface. A sandwich wrapped in foil, a couple pastries, and a container of macaroni salad slid forth. I sniffed each in turn and grinned at Lola.
“Dig in, friend. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I brought a variety.” Lola chuckled and fetched a plate from the cupboard.
“My mother called. She’s sending Dad up with supper. Want to join me? We can shop for a car after we eat dinner, depending on what time we eat and when Dad leaves. Mom said he’d be here around five, but who knows if he’ll be on time.”
“Sure, that would be great.”
Being friends for many years, I knew Lola Trapezi’s friendship was a sure bet. My father taught us both to cook. Lola took her experience one step further and opened up the deli down the street from my home. The residents of the town knew a good thing when they saw it, and her business flourished.
Lola didn’t need to work year round, but she did. She could afford to take the winter months off, but instead she worked and used the slow season to originate recipes. This year, Lola decided to write a cookbook. Her proposal to an editor earned a phone called request for a manuscript. I figured that as her guinea pig, I’d get to taste all the treats she’d write about.
While I ate, Lola outlined our car shopping plans. If I wanted, we could head east toward Johnston and revisit the car dealership where I bought the Taurus. With a heavy dose of perseverance, I had managed to grind a great price from the salesman when I purchased the car a few months before. In agreement with the plan, I nodded.
My first car was stolen. Then I’d inherited Aunt Livvy’s dilapidated, ancient Volvo. I’d used that until my cousin torched it while it lay broken down on the side of the road. My latest car, the Taurus, had just been crushed. Not a great track record.
When I finished eating, Lola rose to leave and agreed to return when my father brought dinner. I promised to call her, and watched her MINI Cooper roll out of the driveway.
Alone, I wandered into the living room and hunkered down on the sofa. I flicked through the channels of the plasma television that hung suspended above the fireplace. Daytime television sucked more than it did during primetime. With a sneer and
tsk
of my teeth, I clicked the off button and rose, intending to go outside.
My shoulder throbbed, and I realized this was a prelude to what life would be like for the next however long. My whole body hadn’t hurt until today, and the minor aches bothered me. Stretching my arm and neck, I heated a cloth in the microwave and applied it to relax the tightening muscles before I stepped through the sliding French doors onto the deck.
Crisp, brilliant-colored leaves littered the deck and furniture. I thought there wouldn’t be many good-weather days left to enjoy before the cold set in. I kicked leaves away with my foot and plucked several others from the plant pots.
The art festival, scheduled for the coming weekend, would team with thousands of gawkers, interlopers, and city dwellers. Yard sales would abound from end to end in the village, and kids would sell cookies on the sidewalks outside their houses.
For three long days, artists would crowd onto the village green, into the community house and then spread out over the lawn of the church grounds in their booths where they could exhibit handcrafted artistic treasures. The place would be full of crowds, traffic jams, and folks hawking their wares. I was interested to see who showed up on my doorstep for a pee break or to ask if they could park in the driveway. Since a bunch of friends would probably stop in, I considered a refreshment list for the occasion.
A movement caught my eye and I glanced sideways. The huge cat from the day before peeked from under an evergreen. Leaning near the garage, the scraggly tree looked as ragged as the cat. It too sported frayed branches that bent in odd directions, similar to the cat’s tail and ears.
The beast stepped forward on tentative paws. Huge, silent pads covered the distance from the tree to the deck. At least he didn’t lift his leg and spray anything this time. Instead, he slunk onto the deck and paused, giving me a baleful glare. If I were superstitious, I’d say it was the evil eye. He stared and took a tentative step forward. A loud rumbling growl issued from his throat as he crept closer.
My hand stretched toward him, the beast rubbed his head on my palm. We were making progress, I guess. His glance roamed the deck in search of something. I wondered if he was hungry. There were leftovers from Lola’s fare, and I went in search of a paper plate to toss the remnants on. I slid the food onto the dish and then toward the monstrous animal. He sniffed the offerings from end to end.
Fangs gouged the sandwich while sharp claws shredded the bread, holding it firm. He chowed down and wiped the plate clean with a pink sandpaper tongue. In a few moments, the beast sat washing his face and paws. He seemed to enjoy the bounty I’d given him. When he finished his ablution, he stared at me with disdain.
His ears twitched as he listened to my murmured words of welcome and again when I asked questions that would never be answered. I glanced at the evergreen tree and then at the cat. He just stared at me without a sound and flicked his tongue to lick his fat cheeks.
“I’ll call you Evergreen,” I said to the cat.
The baleful stare moved away from me as Evergreen stretched his massive body. The cat sprawled in the only patch of sunlight on the deck and purred. There was a moment when I thought he’d fallen asleep, but the rich green eyes weren’t quite closed. It seemed Evergreen was aware of every movement around him. If he were human, he’d have been a survivalist, I was sure.
The day was well into the afternoon when I rose from the chaise. Across the street from my house, the small post office held my daily allotment of mail. I rounded the corner of the house and waited for the traffic to cease long enough to cross over.
Cars and trucks came to a halt. I stepped onto the asphalt. By the time I crossed to the other side of the street, traffic resumed. Horns blew and I waved without a glance, figuring it was someone I knew. Everybody knows everybody in a small town. When I had a bomb scare last summer, I’d become a public figure. I’d just finished a bomb course and I over-reacted when an unmarked package was left on my doorstep. That package became big news and eventually led to arrests, not at all related to bomb making. Go figure.
Today the mail in my post box overflowed. Advertisements filled the small space, but there wasn’t much else of interest. I tossed the junk mail into the recycling bin and headed out the door just as Herb, the middle-aged mailman, came around the corner. He waved at me, and I stopped to chat.
“In the news again, eh, Vinnie?” he grinned.
“Yeah, it hasn’t been the best week of my life – but not dull. Where did you hear the news?” I said, curious about the coverage since I hadn’t seen any news cameras on the scene of my accident.
“The announcement was made on the afternoon news. No camera coverage though. I bet you were in a panic, huh?”
“You could say that,” I said and started to walk away.
“Was it an accident, Vin?”
“Sure was. The cars make the turn like they do at Daytona. Someone hit my car, and I was off the road and out of control. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. Since you’ve had car troubles in the past, it occurred to me that this might be more of the same.” His bright-blue eyes roamed the parking lot filled with vehicles.
There wasn’t much room to park, and everyone tried to make space enough for the next guy who came along. The lot only held six vehicles. Since parking was at a premium, the street usually filled up around this time of day. My glance traveled over the SUVs and smaller vehicles huddled in the lot. Expensive new cars parked next to older models riddled with dents and dings in the fenders.
Just as I turned back to Herb, the post office door opened and I saw Tony DeGreico stroll out. His eyes rested on me for a moment. Herb noticed him, and we both watched Tony approach us.
Dressed in a pair of clean tan workpants with a red v-neck sweater and casual shoes, he looked dapper. A real switch from the last time I saw him, I thought. Even his hair was under control and the beard trimmed.
“Gee, Vinnie, you had a close call on the highway, eh? Never know when bad things will happen. It must have been scary for you.” His nearly black eyes took in my entire form, stopped at my chest, and then met my own dark eyes.
“Everyone has accidents. You never know what life will bring, do you, Tony?” I said in a wise-ass sort of way.
Herb shuffled his feet but stayed put. If there were some action, I was sure he’d want to have a ringside seat.
“That’s true enough. Just look at me. Once I was a man of means, and now I work on a horse farm. Just never know where life will take you, huh?” His glance held mine.
I nodded and wondered if the remark held a double meaning. As I turned to Herb, he seemed a tad nervous. His eyes flicked back and forth between Tony and me. Whatever caused him to shake in his shoes I couldn’t imagine, but I determined that Tony’s reputation had made the rounds by now.
Shit.
“See ya around, Herb,” I said and gave Tony a slight nod.
Halfway across the parking lot I heard Tony call out to me. “You might want to be more careful, Vinnie. You might not be so lucky the next time.”
In an effort to escape the creep, I turned, shrugged, and stepped off the sidewalk into the parking lane of the street. Cars stopped and I crossed the street with long, quick strides before entering the gated path to the house.
My nerves were shot by the time I entered the foyer.
Was that a threat?
Was Tony just rubbing in the fact that I couldn’t get from point A to point B without a catastrophe?
Maybe Marcus was right – I’m a disaster magnet.