Jarillo Sunset Page 13

  “Yes.” Char decided she would not argue with her mother. They always ended their conversation mad at each other and it was always about her father. “Oh, Mom, guess where I’m going Saturday,” Char said enthusiastically.

  “Where?”

  “I’m going to a Renaissance Festival.”

  “Is it like the one we have here in Michigan?”

  “I don’t know, this will be the first time I’ve been there.”

  “Who are you going with?” her mother asked.

  “I’m going with some friends—Rosie and Jonathan and Vincent.” Char was waiting for her mother to ask about Vincent.

  “So you are seeing someone. Which one is he?”

  “I’m not really seeing him, Mom. Rosie and Jonathan are married to each other, and Vincent is Rosie’s brother. He’s just a man that I met and all we are, really, is friends.”

  “Well, maybe it’ll lead to something, Char. You shouldn’t downplay the possibility of a relationship leading to marriage and a family. Not everyone is going to be as good looking as Gregg Palmer was, but give the guy a chance.”

  Mom, you don’t know Vincent. He’s more a man than Gregg ever will be. Char didn’t say anything. She’d just as soon let her mom think that she was still pining over Gregg.

  “Did you hear about Dennis Harrison?” Char asked.

  “No, what happened to him?”

  “Well, he was found dead in a house that I went to scope out for a bank.”

  “What? What happened to him?” her mother asked, concern in her voice.

  “He was shot in the head. The body was pretty decomposed, and I didn’t even know if it was a male or female. I called the sheriff and they came, called the medical examiner, and took the body in to do an autopsy. Mom, my phone number was on Dennis’s cellphone. The sheriff found this out and found out who he was. They think I kept this information from them and that I had something to do with his murder!” Char was almost on the brink of tears as she told her mother the whole story.

  “Oh my God! Why was Dennis down there of all places anyway?” she asked.

  “Apparently he’s been clean from drugs for several months now, and he wanted to come down to talk to me and tell me about it, and see if we could get back together. He never contacted me though. My phone number may have been on his contact list, but nowhere did it register that he ever called me.”

  “Have you told the sheriff everything you know about the situation?”

  “Yes, and then some. I even called them after Minnie called me. I gave them some timelines, that he’d been clean for several months and he arrived here about a month ago. They think I’m telling them this to throw them off my trail. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was hoping the information would help them,” Char complained bitterly.

  “Well, honey, just remember, they have a job to do, and they have to check everything out. I’m sure it will all clear itself up.”

  Char wished she had her mother’s optimism, but she had a sneaky feeling that things were going to get uglier before they got better.

  After Char hung up, she thought about the conversation she had with her about Dennis, and then she thought of all the things that Vincent was, and what Gregg and Dennis weren’t. She knew that Vincent was unselfish, caring, sensitive, solid, and strong, and not just in body strength. He was honest and spoke his opinion but never pushed himself on anyone.

  Just when she thought she wouldn’t hear from him again, something would come up and their paths would cross. Plus, he’d just asked her over to his house for dinner, which moved their relationship to another level, meaning that they were purposely meeting instead of leaving it to chance. Even though she had been wavering back and forth between seeing him and not seeing him, if she had to choose between Vincent or any of the other men she’d dated, she’d pick Vincent, hands down.

  Chapter 11

  Char stopped at a drive-through coffee shop called Coffaholic and picked up a latte to drink on the way into the office. The boss had called for a staff meeting today and everyone was told to attend. Char also had a closing scheduled at two in the afternoon at America Bank and Trust.

  She arrived at the office, and as she walked to her cubicle she noticed it was strangely quiet. None of the guys were making any remarks about her. She got to her desk and put her briefcase down.

  Mike stood up and glared at her. “You’ve been changing my appointment dates and giving me bogus telephone numbers and messages. Why can’t you just do your job and leave my stuff alone?”

  “I don’t know why you’re accusing me, Mike, but how the hell do you think I’d have access to change or make your appointments? I’m not in the office, plus, I don’t take your calls. Why don’t you go and pester the person that gives you the messages and bogus telephone numbers?”

  Mike stood there speechless for a few minutes then sat down at his cubicle. Char got up, grabbed her latte, and walked by Mike in the direction of the ladies bathroom. The toe of her shoe jammed into the Berber square carpet that was loose at the end. She went forward and tried to stop, but spilled her latte all over Mike’s expensive suit. He shot up and jumped back.

  “Son of a bi— You did that on purpose,” he yelled, his face turning bright red.

  “I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t do that on purpose.”

  Don came out mumbling, “What are you two clowns at each other’s throat about now?”

  Char didn’t know what to say as Mike shook his hands and tried to wipe the latte off his trousers and shirt. He spread his arms in an expansive gesture, trying to show Don his suit and shirt were wet with coffee stains.

  “She purposely spilled her latte all over me,” Mike yelled.

  “I did not do it on purpose! See here?” She pointed at the square carpet that was raised slightly at the end. “I tripped on this.”

  “You did that after you dumped your damn coffee on me,” Mike said, still angry.

  “Cut out the yelling and accusations, Mike. I want everyone in the conference room in five minutes for a staff meeting,” Don said loudly.

  Char stepped away and walked toward the ladies bathroom, secretly smiling to herself. Couldn’t have happened to a better person.

  After the staff meeting, Char went to her cubicle to return a bunch of phone calls that she had missed while in the meeting. She had one message from Mr. and Mrs. Schneider on a counteroffer, and another call from Mrs. Sedewick who also had a counteroffer to make.

  The next message was from her father. “Charlene, I haven’t forgotten to send you the money, it’s just that I’ve been tied up dealing with all the legal formalities of winning this kind of cash. I plan to get this money out to you by next week at the latest. I wanted to tell you that I’ve retired from Kellogg Company. When I go back in to get my last paycheck, they want me to stay a bit, because they’re having a retirement party for me. I have almost thirty-five years there. If you lived closer, I would have invited you to go along with me to the retirement party. Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Before she left for her closing, she stopped at Mike’s desk as he sat glumly sorting through his papers. “I am sorry about the coffee spill, Mike. I didn’t do it on purpose, but if you’ll get me the dry cleaning bill after you get it cleaned, I’ll pay you for it.”

  “Yeah, right,” Mike said, sneering.

  Char left the office and headed over to the bank for her closing. On the way there, she called Mrs. Sedewick back. “Hello?” Mrs. Sedewick answered the phone.

  “Hi, this is Char Johnson returning your call. You indicated you wanted to make a counteroffer to Mr. Shafer’s offer?”

  “Yes, I’d like to counteroffer seventy-five thousand. What do you think of that?” she asked.

  “I think it’s a reasonable counteroffer. Let me call Mr. Shafer and tell him. I’ll let you know what he says, but it won’t be until later as I’m on my way to a closing now.”

  “Okay, that’s fine,” Mrs. Sedewick replied.


  Char called Mr. and Mrs. Schneider back. “Hello?” Mr. Schneider answered the phone.

  “Hello, Mr. Schneider. I got your message about a counteroffer to Mr. and Mrs. Mueller’s offer.”

  “Yes, Ms. Johnson, we would like to counteroffer a hundred thousand.”

  “I’ll contact Mr. and Mrs. Mueller and let them know and get back with you. It probably won’t be until later today or tomorrow, as I have a closing I’m headed to right now.”

  “That’s fine. We look forward to hearing from you. Thank you, Ms. Johnson.”

  After hanging up the phone, Char thought through where she was in the competition with Mike and what she needed to get done. She’d had four closings, and had two potential buyers that were dickering and dealing. She needed to contact Mr. and Mrs. Sheppard and ask if they were still interested in the house and see how she might be able to encourage them.

  Char’s cellphone rang again, interrupting her thoughts. It was a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello, this is Char Johnson,” she answered.

  “This is Floyd Gossard, and I’m calling because my wife and I are interested in taking a look at house you have listed on San Juan.”

  “Yes, the one in the Shangri-La subdivision,” Char added.

  “Yes, that’s the one.”

  She pulled up to a stop sign and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Okay, can I have your phone number so I can call you back?” Char asked. He gave her the phone number and she wrote it down. “I’m on my way to a closing right now, but after I get done with that, I’ll give the owners a call and see when we can visit the house. Do you have a specific day or time you would like?”

  “I work until four every day, so any time after four would be good, like maybe four-thirty or five.”

  “Okay, sure. I’ll give you a call back either later today or tomorrow.”

  “That would be good.”

  * * * *

  The closing went off without a hitch. After Char left the bank she headed to her apartment. Her cellphone had gone dead so she needed to recharge it, and she had more calls to make.

  Arriving home, she charged her phone and spent the next half hour returning calls.

  When she looked at her watch, it was five-thirty so she went into her bedroom to pull something comfortable out to wear to dinner with Vincent. She found a nice top that didn’t reveal too much of her chest, and a pair of capris that matched. She reached back and undid her braided hair and brushed it out. She decided she would not braid it up again but leave it flowing down her back instead.

  After she was dressed, she grabbed the bottle of wine she’d bought and headed out the door. As she drove to Vincent’s house, she thought about what her father had said in his message. Was it really possible that he’d won a big amount of money? Was he really retiring? She didn’t care about the money. She was concerned that he was retiring and then would have absolutely nothing to do except spend all his time at the casino. He told her one time that he lived in a camper trailer because he couldn’t afford anything else. He only had three suits that he wore to work, and the rest of his clothes were just old jeans and shirts that he wore when he went gambling.

  She used to think he would have an ‘aha’ moment, where he somehow got a fresh perspective on his life and then set about to change his ways, but she realized over time that life just doesn’t happen that way.

  When Char arrived at Vincent’s home, she saw that his SUV was parked outside rather than in the garage. She pulled up next to it and got out of her car. She walked to the front door and rang the bell.

  A few minutes later, Vincent opened the door and smiled. “Come on in, Char. Dinner is almost ready.”

  “I brought some wine,” Char said, and she handed him the bottle.

  “Mmm, this is good stuff,” Vincent said appreciatively as he looked at the bottle.

  Ching and Chang ran up to Char to twine in and around her legs. Vincent went to the kitchen and pulled a wine canister out of the cupboard and put ice in it to chill the wine. Char and the cats followed him.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

  “No, everything is pretty much set. All we’re waiting on is the timer for the oven.”

  Char noticed that he had the table set, and it looked really nice. “Nice table arrangements.” Char smiled at Vincent.

  “Thanks.” He leaned back against the counter with both hands on the countertop edge. “Have you been having a good week so far?”

  “Yeah, it’s all right. So, the honeymooners are back from their honeymoon?” Char asked, changing the subject.

  “They got back Sunday afternoon. All nice and tanned, and definitely very happy.”

  “They went to Jamaica, right?”

  “Yes. I was surprised by that. Isn’t it hot enough here for them?” Vincent smiled.

  “Yeah, you’d think they might have gone someplace where it was cooler.”

  The bell dinged on the stove clock, and Vincent grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the lasagna out of the oven. He put it on the stove, and then grabbed a large spoon and dipped it in the dish. He took the dish over to the table, then got the garlic bread out and put it in a bowl. After he set the bread on the table he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a salad and some homemade salad dressing.

  “This looks delicious, Vincent.” Char breathed in the aroma of the food in front of her.

  Vincent pulled the wine out of the canister and popped the cork. He brought the wine over, poured two glasses, then placed the wine back in the canister. They sat down and started to fill their plates with the food.

  Char took the first bite of the lasagna. “Oh my God, this is delicious,” she exclaimed.

  “Glad you like it,” he answered after he took his first bite and reached for the wine to wash it down with. “Hmm, nothing like good wine to compliment a good meal.” Vincent asked Char, “How come you’re a real estate agent, yet you live in an apartment?”

  “I don’t have what it takes to maintain a house. I have thought about getting a condo, where the outside maintenance work would be done by someone else. I just don’t have the capability to take care of a house, both inside and outside. Although I think I could do the inside okay. Except for any home improvement projects.”

  “If there’s something that needs to be fixed, you could hire someone to do the repairs.”

  “I know, but that can get expensive, and right now, I’m happy in my apartment. If I have any problems, all I have to do is call my landlord.”

  “It does take work if you want to maintain a nice-looking home. Especially out here, since there are covenants you have to abide by.”

  “How do you do it?” Char asked.

  “What, maintain the house?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you have two jobs,” Char said.

  “I hire someone to come in and clean for me. Unfortunately, I do eat out a lot. And I spend Sunday mornings doing my laundry and Sunday afternoons doing my yard work.”

  “You have unusual taste in color, and I must say I like it. I always like black, white, and gray, but you have this deep dark green that is almost a soothing color. It reminds me of an oasis in the middle of a desert,” Char mused as she looked at the vertical blinds on the dining room sliding glass door. They were like the ones in the living room. Off-white with little slivers of dark forest green running through them.

  “Thanks, I chose that color because it is cooler to me. When I come home from playing in the band Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, I want something cool and quiet to come home to where I don’t have to crank my central air up.”

  One of the cats let out a meow and Char looked down at the floor at it. “I don’t know how you can have any peace and quiet with that,” she said, staring at the cat.

  Vincent laughed. “They don’t holler out too much as long as I get their food in the dish right away.”

  “Are they deformed in any way? Like, are they cross-eyed?” Char asked, taking a bite of the garlic bread. />
  “No, they’re not deformed, and yes, they are cross-eyed. That’s a trait of their breed.”

  “Really? And their eyes are always blue?” She looked over at one of the cats.

  “Yep.” Vincent smiled at Char. “Haven’t you ever had cats or dogs for pets?”

  “No. We never did when I was little, and pets aren’t allowed in most apartments.”

  “What kind of pet would you choose if you could have one?” Vincent asked.

  “I don’t know, really. I think I’d like a dog. You know, one of those small yap dogs. But with the schedule I keep, it would have a lonely existence,” Char said. “How are your sister and the new baby doing?”

  “They’re doing fine. They seemed to be getting used to each other and so far, have had minimal problems adjusting. Little Emily already shows her personality and lets her momma know when she’s unhappy.”

  Char smiled. “I’m sure she’ll have everyone wrapped around her little finger in no time.”

  “Yeah, she’s got me and Rosie wrapped around her finger, that’s for sure.” Vincent gave a wide smile that showed off his beautiful, straight, white teeth.

  “I know that Rosie and Jonathan don’t have children, but does anyone else in your family?”

  “No. Just Debbie. William refuses to get married and have a family. He feels his anger would hurt the ones he loves. Patrick is a young deputy and is nowhere near ready to settle down, much less have children. Tammie was pregnant, but lost the baby back when we were first married. The one couple I know that would be a good mother and father are Rosie and Jonathan, and she can’t get pregnant. I guess they’re trying the fertility pill to see what happens. Do you ever think you might like to have children, Char?”

  Char thought about this for a second. “I don’t know. It’s a lot of responsibility, and so far, I enjoy being single.”

  “Can I ask you something? I don’t want to get you upset or anything, but when I talked to you on Monday and you were thinking we shouldn’t be seeing each other, I wondered if you ever thought that maybe you were more like your father than you’re willing to admit?” Vincent treaded lightly.