Mississippi. The scuffed wooden floors creaked as we squeezed our way down the narrow aisles. The bulging floor to ceiling shelves looked like they were a sneeze away from toppling over. A few gold pans were stuck next to some shovels so I decided to buy one for Ben. One of these days we'd make it over to Coloma, site of Sutter's mill where the first nugget of gold was discovered.
Liz purchased a bone china teapot in a cream and violet pansy pattern in one of the antique stores. As the cashier wrapped the teapot in bubble wrap, Liz turned to me. “He's single, you know.” I must have looked confused because she punched me in the forearm. “Detective Hunter. The Godiva God. He's a widower."
"Oh, what a shame,” I responded, remembering the detective's protective stance at the soccer game. Poor Kristy. Having lost my father at a young age I could empathize with his motherless daughter.
"Well, keep that in mind, in case your date with the doctor doesn't work out."
I rolled my eyes. “Liz, what are the odds that a widowed detective, who's investigating a crazy soccer mom for murder, would want to go out with said soccer mom suspect?"
She grabbed the paper bag that held her teapot and smiled. “Good point. Have fun with the doctor."
After supplying me with enough seaweed and cucumber moisturizer samples to keep my face glowing for the next year, we parted. I sped down the hill towards the Centurion Cameron Park office as fast as my little hybrid could move without drawing the attention of the CHP. I couldn't decide which was worse, getting a ticket, being a suspect in a murder case, or arriving late and risking the wrath of my mother.
I pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of the car, flung open one of the Centurion Realty glass double doors, and found myself chest to stomach with a tall blond-haired guy in a dark suit. He dropped a few manila folders, scattering them across the slate tiled lobby.
"Oh, let me help you.” I bent over to pick up the files.
"No. That's okay. I'll get them.” He knelt down and quickly scooped them up.
"I'm so sorry. I'm in a hurry to pick up my son. My mother is Barbara Bingham and she's been watching Ben all afternoon and I'm late as usual,” I rambled on.
A broad smile creased his face and a lock of hair fell over his forehead as he nodded sympathetically. “Ah, the formidable Barbara Bingham. I can understand why you wouldn't want to be late.” He held out his right hand. “I'm Peter Tyler."
"Laurel McKay,” I said, automatically shaking his hand. His handshake was firm, but not crushing.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm new in this office but Barbara has mentioned your name several times."
How embarrassing. I tried to imagine what she could have told him. The chatter of voices and footsteps interrupted us.
"Hi, Mom. Grandmother bought me a happy meal and it came with a Spiderman. Isn't that cool?” Ben thrust the tiny blue and red plastic figure in my face. I admired the miniature toy and thought how uncomplicated life is at seven years old. Maybe if I stuck to small plastic figures my life would be simpler too.
"Peter, you've met my daughter?” My mother looked only slightly frazzled from the three hours spent with her hyperactive grandson.
"Yes, we've introduced ourselves. She is every bit as delightful as you said."
Delightful? It was far more likely she would refer to me as difficult.
Since I didn't have time for her to admonish me on my tardiness I grabbed Ben's hand and turned to Peter. “It was nice meeting you."
"My pleasure,” he said, opening the door for us.
"Mother, thanks for taking care of Ben.” She frowned at our hasty departure. I anticipated a lengthy lecture in my future.
By the time Ben and I arrived home, Jenna was already there, having survived the ride to and from the mall. She assured me that everything she bought had been reduced by at least eighty percent and showed me the marked down price tags to prove it.
The three of us spent the
Liz purchased a bone china teapot in a cream and violet pansy pattern in one of the antique stores. As the cashier wrapped the teapot in bubble wrap, Liz turned to me. “He's single, you know.” I must have looked confused because she punched me in the forearm. “Detective Hunter. The Godiva God. He's a widower."
"Oh, what a shame,” I responded, remembering the detective's protective stance at the soccer game. Poor Kristy. Having lost my father at a young age I could empathize with his motherless daughter.
"Well, keep that in mind, in case your date with the doctor doesn't work out."
I rolled my eyes. “Liz, what are the odds that a widowed detective, who's investigating a crazy soccer mom for murder, would want to go out with said soccer mom suspect?"
She grabbed the paper bag that held her teapot and smiled. “Good point. Have fun with the doctor."
After supplying me with enough seaweed and cucumber moisturizer samples to keep my face glowing for the next year, we parted. I sped down the hill towards the Centurion Cameron Park office as fast as my little hybrid could move without drawing the attention of the CHP. I couldn't decide which was worse, getting a ticket, being a suspect in a murder case, or arriving late and risking the wrath of my mother.
I pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of the car, flung open one of the Centurion Realty glass double doors, and found myself chest to stomach with a tall blond-haired guy in a dark suit. He dropped a few manila folders, scattering them across the slate tiled lobby.
"Oh, let me help you.” I bent over to pick up the files.
"No. That's okay. I'll get them.” He knelt down and quickly scooped them up.
"I'm so sorry. I'm in a hurry to pick up my son. My mother is Barbara Bingham and she's been watching Ben all afternoon and I'm late as usual,” I rambled on.
A broad smile creased his face and a lock of hair fell over his forehead as he nodded sympathetically. “Ah, the formidable Barbara Bingham. I can understand why you wouldn't want to be late.” He held out his right hand. “I'm Peter Tyler."
"Laurel McKay,” I said, automatically shaking his hand. His handshake was firm, but not crushing.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm new in this office but Barbara has mentioned your name several times."
How embarrassing. I tried to imagine what she could have told him. The chatter of voices and footsteps interrupted us.
"Hi, Mom. Grandmother bought me a happy meal and it came with a Spiderman. Isn't that cool?” Ben thrust the tiny blue and red plastic figure in my face. I admired the miniature toy and thought how uncomplicated life is at seven years old. Maybe if I stuck to small plastic figures my life would be simpler too.
"Peter, you've met my daughter?” My mother looked only slightly frazzled from the three hours spent with her hyperactive grandson.
"Yes, we've introduced ourselves. She is every bit as delightful as you said."
Delightful? It was far more likely she would refer to me as difficult.
Since I didn't have time for her to admonish me on my tardiness I grabbed Ben's hand and turned to Peter. “It was nice meeting you."
"My pleasure,” he said, opening the door for us.
"Mother, thanks for taking care of Ben.” She frowned at our hasty departure. I anticipated a lengthy lecture in my future.
By the time Ben and I arrived home, Jenna was already there, having survived the ride to and from the mall. She assured me that everything she bought had been reduced by at least eighty percent and showed me the marked down price tags to prove it.
The three of us spent the
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