There's Always Plan B (9 page)

Carly turned to Mrs. Beecham. “Is that true? Is more than a ten-minute tardy an unexcused absence?”

The other woman nodded. “It may seem harsh, but we want to make sure the students are in class, learning. People strolling in ten or fifteen minutes after the bell disrupts the class for everyone.”

Carly saw her point—sort of. But if a kid was late to class, it seemed wrong to tag her with cutting school.

“I'll make sure Tiffany understands it's important to be in class on time,” Carly said. “What is her punishment?”

“Two days of detention.”

Tiffany gasped. Before she could say anything, Carly shot her a warning look.

“All right. Thanks, Mrs. Beecham. I assume you have some system in place so that Tiffany can get back to class without being marked down for truancy?”

“Of course. I'll write her a pass.”

“Great. If I could have a minute to speak with her in the hall, I'd really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

“But I—”

Tiffany started to speak. Carly grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“We'll be right outside,” she said. “I'll send her in to get the note.”

“Good. Thank you so much for coming right away. I feel it's very important to nip this sort of thing in the bud.”

“Of course. Sure. Have a nice day.”

Carly led Tiffany into the hallway and closed the door behind them.

“It's not fair,” Tiffany wailed. “I can't believe this is happening because I was late.”

Carly found herself wanting to agree, yet unwilling to side with her daughter against the vice principal.

“I don't necessarily agree with the rules, but it's good to know what they are so you can avoid getting into trouble the next time.”

“But I was doing stuff for
you.
”

Carly put an arm around her. “I know, and I really appreciate it. But I'm thinking maybe it's time to spend your lunch hour doing something else. Trust me—you don't want a career of detention.”

“I can't believe she's making me do that. I'm not some loser.”

“Agreed, but it could be worse. It could be three days.”

Her daughter grimaced. “I wasn't doing it on purpose. You know that, right?”

“I do. I've seen how engrossed you get in your work. I believe that you didn't hear the bell.”

Tiffany looked relieved. “Thanks, Mom. This was all so horrible. She called me out of class and everything. Talk about total humiliation. I thought I'd just die.”

Just then a tall, skinny guy with short brown hair and shoulders broad enough to support the world rounded the corner. He jogged toward them.

“Tiff. Jeez, I'm really sorry.” He noticed Carly and skidded to a stop. “Oh, hi. Are you Tiffany's mom?”

“Yes. Carly Spencer.”

“Hey. I'm Jack. I've been hanging out with Tiffany in the computer lab. This is totally my fault. I have the computer lab right after lunch so I've learned to tune out the bells. I should have been paying attention and made sure she got back to class on time.”

So this was Jack—the boy Tiffany had been talking about. He was charming, in a puppy-dog kind of way. Carly liked how he took responsibility—something her daughter could learn to do.

“I've been helping her with the graphic designs,” he continued. “She's really talented.”

Tiffany stared at the floor and blushed. “No, you are,” she mumbled. “Jack's come up with some great ideas for colors.”

He shrugged. “I'm really interested in the house, Mrs. Spencer. I've heard about it for years, but I've never been. The ghost thing. Totally cool. I've been doing some research on ghosts and paranormal phenomenon. I've even bought some equipment, you know, to help find it.”

Tiffany looked at him. “My mom's seen the ghost.”

“For real?”

“Not recently,” Carly said. “That was years ago. You should come out and look around.”

His face brightened. He glanced at Tiffany and seemed to almost glow. “Thank you for asking. I'd like that very much. Look, um, I have to get back to class. I just wanted to let you know that it wasn't Tiffany's fault.”

He smiled at her, winked at her daughter, then loped away.

Carly watched him go. Okay, he was a good kid with decent manners. She liked that and she liked him. Of course saying that was a really bad idea.

“He's older, isn't he?” she asked instead.

“Just by a year. He's sixteen.” Tiffany sighed. “He has his license. Do you think he likes me?”

“I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure about him, though.”

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “You don't like anyone I like. So why did you invite him over?”

“So I can keep an eye on him and you.”

“I hate my life.”

“I'm sure you do. Look, go get your note from Mrs. Beecham and head to class. I'll be by after your detention to pick you up.”

Tiffany nodded, but before she turned away, she asked, “What's my punishment at home?”

Carly almost asked “For what?” when she remembered the tardiness. She weighed the options and decided to go with her gut.

“You've never done this before,” she said. “I think there are extenuating circumstances. Your detention is enough.”

Tiffany's whole face brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Her daughter flung her arms around her and hugged her hard. “You're the best, Mom.”

“I am pretty cool, aren't I?”

 

Carly had barely taken two steps when she saw Mr. Everwood, aka Steve, approaching.

“We meet again,” he said, looking handsome in a math-teacher sort of way. “I heard about Tiffany. I think the tardy rule takes things a little too far, but I don't make the rules.”

“Me, either. But it's handled.”

“How are you settling in?”

“Getting there. I'm working hard at the B and B. It's fun, but challenging.”

“I heard there were some changes.”

“That's true.”

“I'd love to hear the details. How about over dinner?”

The man was too smooth by far, Carly thought.

“I, uh, dinner.” With Mr. Everwood? Could she really do that? “Um, sure. Great.”

“I'll give you a call.”

She nodded and started backing toward the main entrance. “I know you know the number. Thanks. I, uh, I have to get back to work. Good to see you.”

“You, too, Carly.”

She turned to bolt, but before she could get up any speed, he called her back.

“How are we doing on the whole ‘calling me by my first name' thing?” he asked with a grin.

“It's much better.”

“You're lying.”

“Okay. I'm working on it.”

“Keep practicing.”

 

Carly watched her mother debate which side to come down on. Tiffany shouldn't be late to class, but this was her beloved granddaughter and she had been working to help the B and B.

“You've spoken with her?” Rhonda asked.

“Yes, and she has detention for two days. That should be unpleasant enough to remind her to get back in class on time.”

“Are you punishing her?”

Carly debated how to handle the situation. Right now she couldn't face another run-in with her mother on how to raise Tiffany.

“I was going to,” she said carefully. “But then I remembered what you always said—that the punishment should fit the crime. As Tiffany wasn't trying to skip class and get away with anything, I think the detention is enough.”

Rhonda considered the answer, then nodded. “I agree. She's basically a sweet girl. With a little more direction and parenting, she'll grow up into a fine young woman.”

Carly clenched her teeth, then did her best to relax. Remember the bigger picture, she told herself. Better to keep things pleasant in the family, at least during all the changes in the B and B.

Besides, she knew one sure way to make her mother forget all about Tiffany.

“I ran into Steve Everwood while I was at the high school,” she said as she poured them each a glass of lemonade. “I think he's going to call and ask me out to dinner.”

Rhonda's shock was priceless. Carly wasn't sure if her mother was surprised that a man would be interested or that Carly would talk about it.

“Well, good for you,” Rhonda said as she took a glass. “He's supposed to be very nice. He has a steady job and everyone says he was good to his late wife. You knew he was a widower, didn't you? He's not divorced. I've heard he does what he can to get women in bed and then he dumps them, but I doubt you'll have a problem with that.”

There was so much information in her mother's short speech, Carly didn't know what to respond to first. Was her mother implying she wouldn't have a problem with Steve's amorous nature because he wasn't likely to be interested in her that way, or because she was such a slut that she could easily handle it? And what was up with making a point of him being a widower rather than divorced?

Well, at least she had the distraction she'd wanted.

“I'm not sure if I want to go out with him,” Carly said. “He was my teacher in high school. That makes the whole thing kind of weird.”

“That was nearly twenty-five years ago. What does it matter now?”

Technically not yet twenty-two years, Carly thought.

“Besides, you'll be forty soon,” her mother added. “You'd better accept any invitations that come your way.”

“Before I'm too old,” Carly said, not sure if she should laugh or scream.

“Exactly. You could do worse than him.”

“Good to know.” How thrilling that she had yet to hit bottom.

“This
is all your fault,” Rhonda complained loudly.

At least that's what Carly
thought
she was saying. She'd never been very good at reading lips and it was impossible to hear actual words over the whine of twenty or thirty remote-control model airplanes swooping and soaring off the cliffs.

The sound was incredible—part chainsaw, part lawnmower, but at a pitch designed to send onlookers into madness.

She motioned for her mother to follow her back into the B and B where they could speak in relatively normal tones.

“What was that?” she asked when she'd closed the door behind them.

Her mother glared at her. “I blame you for that. The noise is horrible. How long are they here for?”

“Three nights.” Carly did her best not to look too happy, but in truth, she was giddy with delight. “Three whole nights with the B and B full and local restaurants catering the meals. We get a cut of that, you know. A smooth fifteen percent off the top.”

“I don't like it. I already have a headache.”

Carly did, too, but she figured it was a small price to pay for wild success.

Okay, maybe not
wild success,
but a really big step in the right direction.

“We're lucky to have them,” she said. “Their usual hotel had a lot of damage after last winter's storms so they were looking for a place. We have everything they want, including the cliffs where they can fly their planes. They're just one chapter of a fairly large national organization. We could have clubs like this here all the time.”

Her mother stared at her. “You say that like it's a good thing.”

“It is. Just think of the money. Plus, I've been able to put together some special activities on a small scale. We have that lecturer coming in tonight to talk about the history of the house. That should be fun. If he's any good, I'll book him regularly.”

Maribel had turned her on to a professor at the community college who had done a lot of research on Chatsworth-by-the-Sea and was considered the resident expert on the ghost.

Carly was looking forward to attending the lecture herself and maybe learning something. Like where Mary had been hiding out all these weeks.

She walked into the main office and pointed to the booking schedule posted on the far wall.

“We're booking up faster than I thought we would. Those ghost hunters are here next weekend. We still have the horror writers coming and there's a group that researches paranormal phenomenon coming at the end of the month. I've already received calls from three former guests who are interested in reserving rooms. They said the drive was longer than they liked for a weekend, but it was worth it for a chance to hang with a ghost.”

Her mother studied the chart. “We're starting to fill up.”

“I know. It's fabulous. If things keep going like this, we might break even for the month of August.”

“So soon?”

“Don't get too excited. It's just one month, but we're moving in the right direction. I want to do some more brainstorming. I was thinking of a Regency-themed weekend. We could hold cooking classes and learn the dances from the time.”

“You're certainly pushing our ghost.”

“She's the best selling point we have. Without her, I couldn't make this work.”

Her mother shook her head. “People are so silly about ghosts.”

“As long as those people are interested in booking rooms, I don't care how silly they are.”

It had only been five weeks, and already Carly could see her work coming to fruition. Talk about a great feeling. There hadn't been any more calls from the school about Tiffany, which was a good thing. Neil had actually called his daughter three times. Life was good. Now if she could grow the business steadily, she would be a happy camper.

“Has Steve called?” Rhonda asked.

Carly's good mood took a decided turn for the unsettled.

“Um, yeah. Last week. He asked me to dinner but we had that group in and I had to stay and supervise the evening.”

“You turned down a date with him to stay home and work?”

The tone of her mother's voice implied she was not only stupid, but she might have lost the only opportunity she would ever have to date again.

“The B and B has to get all my attention right now.”

“You can take an evening off when a nice man asks you out to dinner. You're never going to get married again if you don't put yourself out there.”

Had Carly been drinking, she would have choked. “What? Married? Why would I want to do that?”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life alone?”

“Frankly, that doesn't sound so bad. Mom, I was married for over sixteen years. I'm kind of enjoying being on my own.”

“What woman
wants
to be alone?”

“A lot of them.” Married. Yuck. “I'm still recovering from my time with Neil.”

“The best way to get over a bad fall is to get right back on the horse. I would have myself except no one could measure up to your father.”

“I'm through riding.” Although Maribel's comment about sex popped into her head. It had been a really long time. She might not want to commit to any one man, but some time in bed had a certain appeal.

Of course having sex with a man meant getting naked. The last time she'd done that with someone new, she'd been twenty and pretty damned hot. While she wasn't hideous now, she was a couple of days shy of forty and she'd had a child. No one would look at her body and use the word
perky
to describe anything. There were stretch marks and squishy bits and some odd bulges she couldn't get rid of.

Obviously the solution was to find a way to have sex with her clothes on. Or in very, very subtle lighting. Or with someone so incredibly desperate that he would only feel amazing gratitude that she was willing to be with him at all.

 

Carly's reluctance to date Steve came back to bite her in the butt less than five hours later. And it started so innocently, too.

“Jack asked me out,” Tiffany said that night over dinner.

The clear evening was blessedly silent, what with all the model plane folks busy eating their catered dinner in the main dining room.

“That's nice,” Carly told her. “You know the rule.”

“But it's not fair. I can't help it if I'm not sixteen yet. If you'd had me earlier, I could be sixteen now and go out with him.”

“Yes. And although I did specifically plan my pregnancy so that fifteen years later I could ruin your life, the answer stays the same. No dating until you're sixteen.”

“Just because you're not interested in men, Carly, is no reason to infringe on your daughter's happiness,” Rhonda said as she passed the salad.

“Yeah,” Tiffany said smugly.

Carly clutched her fork while the shower scene music from
Psycho
played in her head.

“Thanks for the thought, Mom,” Carly said, wishing there was wine with dinner. “But Tiffany is too young to be out alone with a guy.” She turned to her daughter. “You're more than welcome to have Jack over here where you two can hang out in a very supervised way.”

“You mean so you can spy on us.”

“Pretty much,” Carly admitted cheerfully.

Tiffany rolled her eyes as she turned to her grandmother. “She thinks we're going to have sex. We're not. I know all about it and I'm not interested.”

Carly completely believed her. At that age, she'd been far more interested in romance than sex. Right until some slightly older guy had kissed her senseless and then touched her breasts in a way that had made her want to explore the possibilities.

“Tiffany seems very trustworthy,” Rhonda said.

“I agree. But my decision stays the same. No dating this year.”

“But I
hate
having Jack over,” Tiffany complained. “He's so interested in the stupid house and the stupid ghost. He wants to check out all the rooms with some dumb equipment he bought so he can figure out where she is. I swear, he's more interested in that ghost than in me.”

Which made Carly really like the boy.

“Plus, he wants you to be with him, so you can tell him where you've seen the ghost,” Tiffany added, sounding outraged.

“Your boyfriend isn't interested in your mother,” Rhonda said, patting her granddaughter's arm.

“I know. It's just weird.”

Carly changed the subject by asking about Tiffany's progress on the new letterhead. From there, they moved into a spirited discussion on the best kind of swimsuit for summer and if they should sell “beach packs” to guests wanting water—a towel and some suntan lotion. The meal ended without anymore mention of Jack, dating, or Carly's inability to attract men.

When her mother and her daughter had disappeared—Rhonda to open the mail and Tiffany to check out the latest fashions on the Style network—Carly retreated to her office where she leaned back in her chair and breathed in the silence.

This was good, she thought, hoping her pleasure in the moment didn't jinx it. She was working hard and it was paying off, big-time. Sure, she still had five billion things to do, but in the meantime, she was happy and making progress.

Then her mother walked into the office and put a letter on her desk.

“We're going to have a new guest,” Rhonda said.

“Okay. And this is important, why?”

“Because he's going to try and ruin us. This always happens. Why can't they just leave us alone?”

Carly sat up in her chair and reached for the letter. It was addressed to her from an Adam Covell. He wanted a large room with a view for three weeks, during which time he would be conducting experiments on the house.

“Experiments?”

“Keep reading.”

Carly scanned the rest of the letter. “He's coming to debunk the myth? What? He's a ghostbuster?”

“Apparently. They show up from time to time.”

This Carly didn't need. “What are we going to do?” she asked, more to herself than her mother. “Are we expected to produce a ghost? I don't have one right now.”

There hadn't been any “shimmering essences” since she and Tiffany had returned. As much as Carly wanted to believe her childhood sightings, there wasn't any proof.

“We haven't had one ever,” Rhonda told her. “Sometimes I worry about you. You've been talking about the ghost like this for some time and I couldn't figure out why. It's not real. It never has been. This man is here to ruin us and I don't think we can do anything to stop him.”