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“Not a problem. I can work around your schedule.” I wander to the open side to look across the golf course. A foursome strolls down the long fairway which angles around this property toward the hole in front of the home’s living room. Across the swathe of green, the wedding chapel is visible, sunlight glinting off the tall windows. If I had binoculars, I would be able to recognize anyone standing outside. If there was anyone I might recognize. And if I was that creepy. I turn around. “You need help with anything?”
Rob shakes his head, concentrating on smoothing the pale stain evenly across beautiful wood.
“Matt! I thought that was your bike! How’s Eva?” Gloria Mead breezes through the open door, her short brunette bob swinging. She grabs my shoulders, pulling me down so she can kiss both cheeks. I’ve known her most of my life, in a distant way. Her husband was on the school board for many years. And Rachel babysat Rob and his older brother Dylan when we were in high school. I don’t really remember that—Rachel and I didn’t become close friends until she moved back to Rotheberg after leaving the military. But I’ve heard the stories about the mischievous Dylan and his quiet younger brother.
Last fall, Gloria donated her late husband’s classic Cadillac to our Soups and Songs auction—and we raised $90,000. As a result, we won’t have to charge kids for materials for as long as I teach the luthier course. And since the auction, I’ve gotten to know Gloria better. She’s even come to the classroom a couple of times to see the kids’ guitars in progress.
“How are you, Gloria?” I step back as she releases my shoulders. “You’re looking well.”
She grins and shakes her head side to side. “New dye job. Do you like the green?”
“Green?” Rob looks up from his staining. “I didn’t know you were getting a new color.”
She flips the hair back from her ear so we can see the green underneath. “Don’t worry, I’ll go back to blue for football season. Gotta show my Rotheberg Edelweiss pride.” She watches Rob stain for a few seconds, then turns back to me. “I hear you met your crush.”
I choke.
Rob looks up, mild interest written across his face. “Nica Holmes?”
“How does everyone know about that?” And how do they know my celebrity crush? Have I been that obnoxious about it?
Gloria giggles. “Rachel told me, of course. I saw her in town when I was getting my hair done. Wait until you see what color she got.”
“I saw Rachel this morning, and her hair was still blonde.” I should have noticed her haircut, though. I’m the guy who always notices. This Nica thing is really throwing me off my game.
“I know. I tried to talk her into some purple, but she’s so boring.”
Rob shakes his head silently and goes back to his staining.
Gloria grabs my arm, reminding me of Nica. “Come on up to the house. I have something I want to show you.”
Rob raises a hand. He knows better than to try to stand in his mother’s way when she wants something. “See you later. Thanks for the help.”
“I didn’t do anything.” I let Gloria tug me toward the door.
“Good point. I meant, you’re welcome for the excuse.”
Gloria giggles and blows her son a kiss. “That snarky side is why you’re my favorite younger son.”
We stop beside my bike. The garage door is still open, as if Gloria parked her big SUV and came down to see us before going into the house. “Give me your phone.”
I pull out my cell slowly and unlock it. “Why?”
She holds out a hand. “Just give it to me.” She takes it, swiping to the search bar and typing in something. Then she taps and types some more and hands it back to me. “You didn’t get that from me.”
I look down at the screen. A map shows directions to another house on the Ranch. “What is this?”
“Oh, it might be directions to the vacation home of a certain famous movie star. I’ll bet you didn’t know I used to be a realtor. I sold that lot to NJH Holdings back before I married Eric.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Use it well. With great knowledge comes great responsibility.”
I stare at the phone for a second. “I think you mean ‘with great power.’ I don’t know what to say.”
“You say, ‘thank you, Gloria,’ and stop correcting my paraphrasing.” With a snicker, she pats my arm and disappears into the garage.
The door begins to ratchet down as I call, “Thank you, Gloria!”
Chapter Six
NICA
