Read Contingency Plan Online

Authors: Lou Allin

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Contingency Plan

BOOK: Contingency Plan
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CONTINGENCY
PLAN

LOU ALLIN

With many thanks to Carolanne Papoutsis,
Vancouver Island’s best eagle-eyed reader.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER
ONE

N
othing attracts attention like a dead whale.

A dozen people peered at a huge black carcass beached at low tide. Seagulls shrieked and dipped. Andy and I had loved picnicking at Aylard Farm Park. From here we would gaze across the glorious Strait of Juan de Fuca. Only two years ago. It seemed like ten.

Shortly after retiring early and moving to Vancouver Island, Andy was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Never a complainer, he’d been ignoring the symptoms. Half a year later he was ashes for our climbing red rose. The way he’d suffered, I was glad for his release. “Let go, love,” I’d said, holding his hand on that last morning. “Jane and I will be fine.” He squeezed back until my fingers ached. Then he was gone.

The mighty whale, collapsed under its own weight, lay on the exposed tidal shelf. People were circling, even touching it. One teen was using a sharp rock to cut off pieces of skin. What the hell was wrong with some people?

I headed back through the bushes to the main path. Why had I thought coming here would cheer me up? Tears blurred my vision. I shoved my chilly hands into my pockets. One foot caught on a gnarly root. I would have gone sprawling, but a hand grabbed my arm.

“Whoa! Watch that first step. It’s a killer,” a deep male voice said.

I’d ripped my tights, nothing worse. Still kneeling awkwardly in the weeds, I looked up at my Good Samaritan. The sun backlit his head like a halo. By his side was a border collie pup that began licking my face. It had a heart-shaped black mark on its white muzzle.

“Scout, watch your manners. Not every lady likes doggy kisses. Up we go,” he said, pulling me to my feet. I braced myself against a gigantic Sitka spruce. “Anything sprained? Can you stand?”

I cleared my throat, feeling like a fool. Then I noticed a burning, prickly feeling on my hand. “Ouch,” I said. I shook it to relieve the discomfort. “What did I land in?” A spindly plant surrounded me.

“Stinging nettle. Let’s see,” he said, taking my palm and examining it. “Wash it well with soap and water. It’ll only bother you for a day or so. Not like poison ivy.”

“Lucky me then,” I said. I frowned. Acting crabby in front of a complete stranger.

“My name’s Joe Gillette. There are some moist wipes in my car. I always plan ahead. Coffee too, if you take it black.”

His brown eyes sparkled, honest as a calf ’s. A stranger looking at me like this was a new experience. I felt girlish and shy, despite my age. I’d been married for the last fifteen years. The last time I’d dated before that…one pathetic, forgettable evening with a friend’s brother. All he could talk about was his mother’s pot roast.

Five different answers raced through my mind. None of them sounded right. An eyebrow arched and Joe looked off at Scout chasing a seagull. “If you’re okay, then…”

“Sorry,” I said, blushing. “Coffee would be super.” I almost added “kind sir.” Soon I’d be curtsying. Wet wipes? Did he have a child? Was he divorced? Few people came here alone. The coastal trail was a place for serious hikers, while the park attracted families.

I followed him to his shiny black X-6 with a 1-LGL-EGL plate (one legal eagle?), parked near my rusty Neon. Given the soothing towelette, I wiped my hand. The prickly sensations eased.

“Feel better?” he asked. A corner of his expressive mouth rose.

I nodded and looked around. “There’s a place we can sit.”

At a nearby picnic table, we talked over the excellent Kona coffee he’d had shipped from Hawaii. Joe was a lawyer, he said, working with the elderly. “I’m no hot-shot criminal attorney like in the movies, but I feel good about what I do. Estate planning takes plenty of care. Elders are so vulnerable. Meet the King of Loopholes. Every penny counts for those folks. I can chase a deduction faster than a ferret after a mouse.”

His friendliness was relaxing me. “Hey, liking your job is important. If you can help others, bonus.”

“And yourself ? Sounds like you care too. Social worker? Teacher? You can’t be a nurse or doctor. They know about nettle.”

It sounded more sincere than patronizing. I liked the fact that he was assuming I had a profession.

“I worked with my husband Andy. He… passed last year.” I gave a few brief details. A story told too many times. Poor pathetic widow. Andy made me swear not to waste the rest of my life grieving.

“Sorry for your loss,” Joe said, the lines around his mouth deepening in concern. A moment of silence followed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business were you in?”

“We owned a motorcycle and snowmobile shop. Quads, too, and boats in the summer. Dawson Creek.”

He gave a low whistle and a mock shiver. “I like to
go
to the snow. Not have it come to me. Some Canadian, eh? What’s it like way up north, bush woman?”

That made me laugh. The unfamiliar sound amazed me. Who was that woman?ollowed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business were you in?”

“We owned a motorcycle and snowmobile shop. Quads, too, and boats in the summer. Dawson Creek.”

He gave a low whistle and a mock shiver. “I like to
go
to the snow. Not have it come to me. Some Canadian, eh? What’s it like way up north, bush woman?”

That made me laugh. The unfamiliar sound amazed me. Who was that woman?ollowed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business were you in?”

“We owned a motorcycle and snowmobile shop. Quads, too, and boats in the summer. Dawson Creek.”

He gave a low whistle and a mock shiver. “I like to
go
to the snow. Not have it come to me. Some Canadian, eh? What’s it like way up north, bush woman?”

That made me laugh. The unfamiliar sound amazed me. Who was that woman?ollowed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business were you in?”

“We owned a motorcycle and snowmobile shop. Quads, too, and boats in the summer. Dawson Creek.”

He gave a low whistle and a mock shiver. “I like to
go
to the snow. Not have it come to me. Some Canadian, eh? What’s it like way up north, bush woman?”

That made me laugh. The unfamiliar sound amazed me. Who was that woman?ollowed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business were you in?”

“We owned a motorcycle and snowmobile shop. Quads, too, and boats in the summer. Dawson Creek.”

He gave a low whistle and a mock shiver. “I like to
go
to the snow. Not have it come to me. Some Canadian, eh? What’s it like way up north, bush woman?”

That made me laugh. The unfamiliar sound amazed me. Who was that woman?ollowed. “Andy must have been a special man. What business

CHAPTER
THREE

T
wo months later we were married.

Aunt Bonnie was my maid of honor, sparkling in a bright blue dress.

We were at the townhouse preparing for the ceremony when Joe’s ringtone sounded. “Home Sweet Home” by Mötley Crüe. What a sentimental guy.

He was grinning as he handed his cell to me. “Mom wants to talk to you. All the way from Quispamsis.”

“Welcome to the family, dear,” a mellow voice said in an East Coast accent, a lilt of Irish. Her name was Sheila. “Hope you like your in-laws a bit on the crazy side. We mean no harm. Sorry Diane and I can’t be there, but I sent you something. I’m sure your wedding is going to be lovely. I know my son.”

“How kind of you. I’m sure we’ll meet soon,” I said, glancing at Joe. He was giving an
okay
sign. I returned the phone.

“Yes, Mom. Not to worry. It got here safely. Perfect timing,” Joe said. “I can’t wait to see her face. In fact, I’m not going to wait any longer.”

After we hung up, Joe pulled a ring from his pocket. “This belonged to my grandmother. Her name was Ruby. Like the main stone, with a circle of diamonds. Your other hand looked so lonely.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, holding it to the light. “They don’t make rings like this anymore. I’ll treasure it.” The his-and-hers wedding rings had been understated and simple. I loved them. But this was a family heirloom.

Joe had already given Bonnie a stunning orchid corsage. Jane got a small package. “Open it,” he said, watching her with pleasure. He was a man with a plan all right. He’d made all the arrangements. The honeymoon was still a secret. I was so happy, even a tent in a provincial park would have been a palace. As long as we were together.

Jane unwrapped a gps from a leather carrying case. “Yes!” She punched the air in delight, then started exploring the features.

“Now you’ll always know where you are. That’s very important.” Joe handed her another package.

“Cool! Travel bugs. Thanks, Uncle Joe,” she said.

“What are they, honey?” I asked.

“When you put one in a cache, someone who finds it can take it all over the world. They get tracked by the number.”

I planted a kiss on his fresh-shaven cheek. I loved how nice that felt. His skin was so smooth. Andy had had to shave twice a day or give me whisker burn.

We were married by a local minister in the colorful late-September gardens at the Sooke Harbor House. Hosts of chrysanthemums and dahlias surrounded us. A few tourists on their way to Whiffen Spit, below the inn, stopped and clapped for us when we kissed.

Our private dining room had a view of the bay, and the five-course meal featured smoked salmon soup and crab. Joe allowed Jane a sip of champagne.

“Mom, it’s going to make me sneeze,” Jane said, laughing.

“You’ll get used to it, princess,” Joe said. “All the men will be lining up for you in a few years.”

“Here’s an old Irish toast,” Bonnie said, hoisting her glass. “May the sun…no, that’s not right. May the road…I mean the wind…”

We made a joke about her being tipsy.

Joe rose to save the moment, ending with “May God hold you in the palm of his hand.” Bonnie was forgetting more lately. Was it age or the beginnings of dementia? Andy hadn’t mentioned that horror in his family, had he? I didn’t want to think about that. Not today.

“I have another surprise, ladies,” Joe said as we finished our Chocolate Decadence. He handed me a brochure from his inside pocket. “So I hope you’re packed, all of you. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon for Disneyland. No excuses.”

“Joe, you aren’t serious. That’s too gener…generous,” I said. The wine and brandy were making everything a bit unreal. My tongue was stumbling over the longer words.

“It’s time my girls got spoiled,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time to be the man of the house. Now smile, all of you. Smile for my mom.”

As he checked the pictures, I turned away to the view of the harbor. A bald eagle was soaring. Then another smaller bird. His mate? It felt warm and cozy being a family again.

* * *

The four days in California went so fast. Aunt Bonnie and Jane made the rounds of the rides, while Joe and I had time to ourselves. We drove along the scenic coastline in a splashy Mustang convertible, enjoying leisurely lunches. Each night at dinner we’d meet Jane and Bonnie back at the hotel.

“Thanks for your blessing, Andy,” I said in my prayers as the plane headed back to our island. How many lucky women had had two wonderful men in their lives?

With the recession, we sold the small townhouse in Sooke below assessment value and put the money into long-term bonds as Joe suggested. What did ten or twenty thousand dollars more matter now? From the looks of Joe’s condo in Victoria, he had been too modest about his finances. The Inner Harbor apartment was upscale with granite counters, a master suite bathroom and another for Jane. The view of Washington State and the white-capped mountains of the Olympic range took my breath away.

One day at our former place, I was raking the last leaves before the new people moved in. I thought I saw someone walking Scout by the mailboxes.

BOOK: Contingency Plan
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