Pound Foolish (Windy City Neighbors Book 4) (2 page)

     “Greg, stop! Just stop.” His wife pawed at his arm. “You’re not making any sense.
Seeding
. . .
spring
? What are you talking about?”

     “A vacation!”

     Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

     “Yes. I realized this morning that even though the indoor season for Powersports has been over for a couple of months, I haven’t taken a break. And now we’re about to begin our in-water shows, which means I’ll be totally busy until July. So now’s the time—this afternoon. I’ve got a cottage reserved for us up on Deep Lake for three days. The weather’s supposed to be beautiful.”

     A frown clouded her eyes. “But today? I don’t know, Greg. It’s so sudden. How far is Deep Lake? We’d have to pack, shop for food to take, and the kids have lessons to do. We can’t just . . .”

     “Run off?” He chuckled. “Of course we can. That’s why you homeschool them, isn’t it?”

     “Well, yeah . . . I mean, no! We homeschool because it’s best for our kids, but—”

     “What’s the matter, honey? I thought you wanted to do more things as a family.”

     “I did, but . . .” Nicole clasped her hands to the sides of her face as if to stop her head from spinning. “I do want us to be able to do more things together, but I wasn’t talking about a vacation the other night. I meant I need you more on a day-to-day basis. And to cover for me sometimes. I . . . I just need a break.” Tears were pooling in her eyes.

     “A break, that’s what a vacation is.” Greg sighed. She wasn’t reacting like he’d hoped. He’d always been more spontaneous than Nicole, but she usually came around.

     Nathan wandered into the kitchen and looked back and forth at his parents. “Mommy, what’s the matter?”

     “It’s nothin’, snookums,” Greg tousled his hair. “It’s a big secret.”

     “A secret, a secret, a secret!” Nathan began hopping around.

     “Greg, don’t get ’em all revved up.” Nicole wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Wish you’d given me more warning. I’m not sure we can just take off like that.”

     “Why not? We haven’t done anything like this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start now. As the pastor always says, ‘We’re blessed and highly favored. We’re the King’s kids.’ This is just one of the blessings. Of course we can take off!”

     She let out a huge sigh. “I mean, we should’ve planned this
together
. I can’t just drop everything at a moment’s notice. I have the whole week planned, things that can’t be put off.”

     Greg’s shoulders fell, and he looked down at Nathan. “Guess we can’t have any surprises in this family!” He knew he shouldn’t have “used” him to make his point to Nicole, but he was exasperated. He looked back at his wife. “The kids like surprises, and so might you, if you’d only—”

     A whine started deep in Nathan’s throat.

     “Ah, forget it.” The whine grew. “No, not you,” Greg told his son. “We’ll do the surprise.” He gave Nicole a glare as his youngest began bouncing again, quickly switching the whine to “Yes, yes, yes!” as Nathan scurried out of the room to tell his sister.

     Greg leaned back against a counter, arms folded. “Point is, Nicole, this is a one-time opportunity. End of February we did a show up near Grayslake, remember? I had to stay over the whole weekend, and you never like it when I do that. But that weekend Potawatomi Watercraft, one of our biggest exhibitors, paid for a Class-A space in the fairground building. We had six Class-A spots laid out, but they felt the position by the main entrance was far superior to any of the others.” He knew he was rehearsing details that wouldn’t matter to her, but he was making his case. “Head guy said if I made sure they got the entrance space, he’d give me use of the company cottage for a nice getaway. And that’s what we’re doing!”

     Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like some kind of a bribe.”

     “Not a bribe. A perk, Nicole, a perk! Their way of saying thanks!” Why did she always put a negative spin on things? Maybe it was her time of the month or maybe she was getting back at him for dragging Nathan into their fight. He clenched his teeth and drew a deep breath. Yeah, it had become a fight. He had to dial it down if he wanted to salvage this trip. This was no time to argue over things that would probably evaporate once they both got a little rest.

     After staring at each other for a few moments, Nicole shrugged and turned away, then started to make coffee. “Why right now? Why couldn’t we talk about this, plan for it, put it on the calendar?”

     Greg sighed, intending to count to ten, but he only got to three. “’Cause I wanted it to be a surprise. Look, it’s May. Spring’s here. Weather guy said it’s gonna be nice for the next few days, maybe even up in the seventies with some sun. I thought you’d like it, thought it was what you were asking for. Look, you can get some rest, catch a few rays lounging on the dock to get some color back in your skin.”

     A grimace flitted across her face. Oops, he shouldn’t have said that. “What I mean, honey, is you deserve a break.
You
need a blessing. Didn’t you listen to the pastor this morning?”

     “Oh, don’t go there, Greg. That’s not fair.” Nicole shook her head and then took a deep breath and turned back to him. “Okay. Let me get this straight. You want us to pack up right now—before we’ve even had anything to eat—and head off to this Deep Lake, wherever it is, for the next few days. The lessons I have planned for the kids require a computer to—”

     “Look, they need a break too. Public schools have spring breaks, don’t they?”

     “They already had it back in April.”

     “But you didn’t take time off, did you?”

     “Well, not really, a day here and there. But . . .”

     “There you go. The kids need a spring break. And the good thing about homeschooling is, we’re flexible. We can schedule
our
spring break according to warmer weather.” He could see she was running out of excuses, but he had to be careful. Try to close the deal too soon and it could backfire in a swirl of hurt feelings. “Look, if you really don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I might be able to get the cottage for some other time. It’s just that it’s available now, and I’m free till Wednesday, so think about it, please?”

     Nicole threw her hands up. “Oh, I guess so. But you really don’t understand what I was talking about the other night.” She closed her eyes. “How much do we have to pack? Do we have to bring bedding and food and everything?”

     He hadn’t thought that through. He’d only envisioned taking personal clothes. “Okay. I hear you now.” He held out his hands to calm her. “The place is supposed to be fully furnished, outfitted kitchen, cable TV, boat, everything, so I’m sure they have bedding. They use it for hosting manufacturer reps and big customers. But if it’d make you more comfortable, we can bring sleeping bags just in case. As for food, Lake Villa’s real close. We can zip into town for food.”

     “Greg, that’s okay for groceries, but what about things like salt and pepper, coffee, sugar—stuff I could bring from home so we wouldn’t have to spend the—”

     “Maybe it’s already there.”

     She rolled her eyes.

     Greg knew he needed to compromise. “All right. What if we all calm down and go to Red Lobster for now. Then we’ll come home and pack—on the minimal side—and head up there first thing tomorrow morning?”

     Relief flooded over Nicole’s face, and Greg knew they had a plan.

* * * *

The cottage was far more beautiful than Greg had imagined—high cathedral ceilings, open beams, floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, and the lakeside was all windows. And it was fully equipped with everything but fresh groceries. They didn’t have to use their sleeping bags or even bring in the box of condiments and assorted staples Nicole had packed. In fact, when Greg went by Bob Kruger’s to pick up the key, Bob told him that when they left all they had to do was strip the beds they’d used and the maid service would take care of everything, including cleaning the cottage.

     A few clouds gathered Monday morning after they arrived, but the temperature still reached 70 degrees before noon. The kids couldn’t wait to run down to the lake to wade in the cold water, but Nicole remained unusually quiet.

     “You okay?” Greg asked as he helped her put away the groceries.

     “Yeah, I’m fine.” She sighed and started making sandwiches for lunch.

     Greg didn’t believe her. He’d hoped that by the time they got to the cottage the tension from the day before would evaporate. Maybe he needed to give her more time. “Uh . . . well, as soon as lunch is over, you think it’d be okay for me to drive around to the east side of the lake to pick up some bait?” Wait a minute! What was he doing
asking
if he could go buy worms? Still . . . “What I mean is, Bob said there’s a resort over there where I can get some bait. Thought we could take the boat out when I get back and let the kids catch some fish.”

     “They’d probably like that.”

     “How ’bout you? You wanna come along?”

     She wrinkled her nose and poured glasses of juice. “Think I’ll just sit on the dock and read. Catch a few rays, like you suggested.”

     “Sure, that sounds good. Though you could read on the boat, and we could all be together.”

     Nicole shook her head. “I just need some alone time. Besides,” she glanced toward the big windows, “if it clouds over, I don’t want to be stuck out there on the lake.”

     “Suit yourself, but you’d better bring a jacket or . . . ah, forget it.” Greg wrapped a sandwich in a paper towel, picked up his Pro Bass cap from the table, and headed for the door. “The place I’m headed is called Jack and Lydia’s. Be back soon.”

     Greg slammed the door of the Cherokee and took the narrow road a little faster than he intended.
Women
. Why were they so hard to figure out?

Chapter 3

Greg eased up on the gas as he drove along the narrow road around to the east side of Deep Lake taking bites of his sandwich without noticing what kind it was. What was going on with Nicole? Why wasn’t she enjoying this mini-vacation? Wasn’t that what she wanted? He was the kind of guy who couldn’t abide tension. He had to figure it out. Her happiness was his responsibility, after all.

     Distracted by his thoughts, he nearly missed the sign announcing Jack and Lydia’s Resort. He turned in and found a parking place between the scattered buildings. The older ones looked like converted barns and sheds, the newer ones like a cheap motel. He got out and headed for the end of the main building that had a sign over the door announcing Office.

     Greg stopped on the steps and gazed down the hill where a four-wheeler, piled high with fishing gear, oars, and life jackets, chugged its way down the steep path to the lakefront. The ATV was so old and dirty Greg couldn’t even recognize the model even though Yamahas, Hondas, John Deeres, and every other brand were on exhibit at the sport shows he organized. He watched the driver, who was wearing a “Jack and Lydia’s Resort” T-shirt, roll the ATV out on the dock that extended into the lake and come to a stop beside the rowboats tied up along the leeward side. A man and boy, who’d been walking along behind, began unloading their gear and putting it in an aluminum boat.

     Back on the grassy shore under towering cottonwoods, Greg noticed folks gathered around picnic tables or tending their smoking grills. A real family place. Maybe he’d bring Nicole and the kids over for a picnic in the next day or so.

     He stepped into the office. Empty. “Hello, anybody here?” No answer, and no bell button on the counter to call for help. A refrigerator and a Coke machine lined the left wall while racks of life jackets and oars hung on the other. The wall behind the counter was covered with snapshots of bass and northern pike that guests had caught from the lake. In the middle of the display hung a mounted largemouth bass with a kaput clock embedded in its side. At least it told the correct time twice a day.

     “Hello!”

     The door in the corner opened and a short, stout woman with a haggard face entered the office. “Thought I heard someone out here.” She spoke with a faintly European accent, perhaps Polish? “How can I help ya?”

     “How’s the fishing?” Greg had worked in outdoor sports long enough to know this wasn’t like a drugstore where the clerk didn’t know or care what you wanted so long as your money was green. He’d shoot the bull with her for a few minutes first, then get around to buying his bait.

     “Crappie been bitin’ pretty good, and the bluegills are workin’ their beds. But we haven’t seen much bass action this spring. Not sure why.”

     “Hmm. And the northern? This lake got any?”

     “Oh yeah. There’s a few. Fellow pulled in a twenty-eight-incher the other day. Fat as can be. Full of roe, I ’spect.” She raised her eyebrows. “You want a boat?”

     “No. Just some crawlers and wax worms if you got ’em.”

     “Right there in the fridge. Help yourself.” She turned aside as though talking had wasted her time. Maybe this was more like a drugstore than he realized.

* * * *

Nicole recognized the sound of the Cherokee’s engine stopping outside the cottage. Greg was back. She sighed, expecting him to come in and ask her again to go out in the boat, like he hadn’t heard her answer the first time. But she didn’t want to bob around out there for the next three hours. In fact, she hadn’t asked to come on this “vacation” where she had to continue making meals and doing housework but without the conveniences of home. It’d taken the whole time Greg was off getting bait for her to feed the kids and clean up the kitchen. Only now had she been able to sit down and gaze out the window on the lake.

     The view was mesmerizing—a few clouds scuttling across the blue sky, the lake even bluer, birds flitting from lush bushes into the overarching trees—but she was going to enjoy it from the comfort of the leather couch where she could curl up to read her romance novel. Otherwise, she’d end up putting worms on hooks.