Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold (23 page)

T
HAT NIGHT
H
ARRIET LAY IN BED—NOT SLEEPING
. T
HE
adrenaline from the excitement of the whole FBI thing surged through her veins. She kept thinking there must be some way to keep Lily from the clutches of the system. What if she could get Lily someplace safe? Maybe Lily could come live with her. Yes, that’s it. She’d be Lily’s foster mother. She turned onto her back. No, that wouldn’t be fair to Henry and Prudence and the twins.

She tossed and turned, her head first on one side of the pillow, then the other. Still she couldn’t sleep.

“Martha,” she called. “Are you awake?”

Humphrey roused from his place under the window.

“Not you,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Harriet sunk her head back into her pillow and stared at the ceiling. There was just enough light outside to cast a strange shadow or two, especially with all the construction machinery outside. It might have been a backhoe by day, but at night it looked like a giant Harriet-eating monster.

She pulled the blanket over her head. No, that was no good.

“Martha,” she called again, this time a little louder.

Humphrey scrambled to his feet. Harriet tossed a pillow onto Martha’s bed.

Martha made a noise.

“Martha?”

“Harriet? What is it? Are you okay?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Count sheep.”

“Not working. I’ve been thinking about Lily.”

It was at this point that Humphrey, now completely awake, went to Harriet. He sat on his rump and stared at her.

“It’s not time to wake up, Humphrey. It’s still nighty-night time.”

“Ah, tell the dog,” Martha said. “He’s listening.”

“No. I need to tell you that … that … What if I get guardianship of Lily, or whatever they call it?”

Martha sat up straight like a cadaver in a scary movie. “What?”

“I could take Lily.”

“Harriet, that’s crazy. She’s probably got more problems than we know, and besides, you have grandtwins on the way. They need you. Prudence and Henry need you.”

Harriet turned on her side and patted Humphrey’s head. “That’s what I thought. I just wanted to see if you thought the same thing.”

“I do. Now get some sleep. You have to call Lily in the morning and get her down to the café. It’s going to be a big day.”

Morning finally, mercifully, came, and Harriet was first to shower. She slipped on a bathrobe instead of dressing because she wanted to get into the kitchen and prepare breakfast for everyone. Maybe it was her way of apologizing for causing trouble. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself that everything was A-Okay, normal as usual.

She prepared scrambled eggs and a full pound of bacon. Everybody loved bacon. And she made plenty of toast. Harriet set the dining room table with cloth napkins and pretty dishes.
Leaving Humphrey inside, she went out and picked a rose from one of Prudence’s bushes.

“That’s a nice one,” she said as she sniffed the pretty pink flower. Getting back to the house was a little like walking through a minefield on account of all the construction stuff. She wanted to take a quick look at the progress.

The foundation had been poured. The rebar set, the sill plate was going in. “They might start the walls today.” Everything looked good, near as she could tell.

“But we’ll see what the inspector says when he comes for the first inspection.”

She put the single rose into a small glass bud vase and set it in the center of the table. She folded sky blue napkins into neat little triangles and filled the water glasses from a glass pitcher she found on a high shelf in the kitchen. After everything was ready to go, she stood at the head of the table and surveyed her handiwork. “Just like at one of the bed and breakfasts I stayed at on my trip.” She was actually quite proud of herself.

The clock read seven o’clock. Time for everyone to start filing into the kitchen. “Won’t they be surprised?” she said to Humphrey. Henry was first to arrive.

“Morning, Mom,” he said as he grabbed a coffee mug and then the coffee carafe. Only it was empty. He held it up. “Hey, what gives?”

“Everything is in the dining room today. Even the coffee. I put it in the fancy pot.”

Henry’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Really? Is it Sunday? Or Christmas? I must have really overslept.”

Harriet gave him a playful push. “No, no, I wanted to do something special after upsetting everyone yesterday.”

“You haven’t upset everyone.”

“Yes, I have. Now, go on. To the dining room. It’s like a bed and breakfast.”

“Okay, okay,” Henry said. “But you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“I wanted to do it,” Harriet said.

Henry sat down at the head of the table, the seat farthest from the kitchen. “This is nice, Mom. Thanks for doing it.”

“My pleasure.” She poured coffee into his cup. “I made eggs and bacon and toast, and I found some nice orange marmalade in the refrigerator. I think Prudence will like it.”

By seven-fifteen everyone, including Martha, was seated around the table. Prudence seemed a whole lot more chipper than usual.

Harriet patted Prudence’s hand. “You look very happy and … and blissful this morning.”

“I do? I guess I feel … blissful. And the table looks just lovely.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “Now you eat up. I can make more of anything you want.”

Prudence rested her hand on her stomach. “I’m starved, and for once I feel normal. Not sick at all.”

“Well, that is terrific,” Harriet said. “You just stay put and I’ll get you some juice. Apple or orange?”

“Apple,” Prudence said.

“Good choice,” Harriet said. She poured a small glass.

Martha stirred Half and Half into her coffee. “She really outdid herself this morning.” Harriet could hear her in the kitchen and Martha’s words made her feel proud. She poured apple juice, which was, Harriet thought, the color of gold, into a small glass and carried it back to Prudence.

“Here you are, dear,” Harriet said.

“Thank you,” Prudence said.

“Now come on, Mom, sit down and enjoy your breakfast. The eggs are perfect.”

Harriet took her seat. She loved her family. Her friend. How often she had tried to figure out and find what it meant to feel
God’s pleasure. At that moment she knew exactly where it was—in her heart, with her kids and Martha. She really was quite a fortunate woman.

Harriet felt so warm and fuzzy inside it nearly tickled. And to think just a few days ago she was wishing she was back in Pennsylvania. She would be missing all of this.

“May I have the bacon?” Prudence asked.

“Certainly,” Harriet said as she lifted the plate. “All you want.”

“Ah, this is nice,” Henry said. “You did a great job, Mom. Thank you.”

“It is very nice,” Martha said. “Thank you. Everything is perfect.”

Prudence finished her eggs and bacon. She skipped toast, but she did put orange marmalade on her eggs. This amused Harriet.

“What?” Prudence said. “People put marmalade on eggs.” She looked at Henry. “Don’t they?”

“So, Mom,” Henry said, “have you figured out how you’re going to get that girl to the café?”

Suddenly brought back to reality, Harriet heaved one of her great sighs. “Yes, I’ll just call and tell her I want to take her shopping again. I figure that will keep Win from wanting to come.”

“Good thinking,” Prudence said.

“Once she gets there, I’m not certain how I’ll bring up Crickets’ name.”

“You’ll think of something,” Martha said. “And I’ll be there.”

“But remember that Agent Willers will be there too, watching. She’ll make her move when the time is right.”

Images of guns firing and people in blue jackets ran through her mind. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt or for there to be a ruckus of any kind.

“I hope she just escorts Lily out. You know, all friendly like.”

Henry shook his head. “We don’t know exactly what will happen, but remember, if it gets crazy, stay low, get under the table.”

“Henry,” Martha said. “There will be no need to get under the table.”

Harriet pushed eggs around on her plate. “So how will she know, the agent lady, how will she know when to make her move?”

“Surveillance,” Prudence said.

“What? Like what? Do you think they put a bug in the ketchup bottle?”

“They probably have people listening, yes,” Prudence said. “Really?” Henry said. “This is so cool. I wish I could be there.” Harriet dropped her fork in her plate. “Won’t you? Be there, I mean?”

“Well, yeah, sure,” Henry said. “But I can’t be sitting at the table with you. That will make her really suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Harriet said. “That’s what I meant. But you will at least be in the vicinity, right?”

“Me too,” Prudence said. “We’ll be outside, waiting.”

Harriet bit off a corner of toast. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Do you think this surveillance stuff is why the waitress, Cindy, kept giving us the same table? I bet she’s been in on it too. She might even be an agent.” Harriet’s heart raced. She patted her chest. “This is all getting to be too exciting.”

“Anything is possible,” Henry said.

“Just stay calm,” Prudence said. “The FBI won’t let anything bad happen.”

“How can you be sure?” Henry said. “Now I think I’m getting nervous about sending Mom in there.”

“I have to do this,” Harriet said. “This is my caper. My gold mine. My mistake. I’ll be fine. Besides, if someone has to die in a shootout, I’d rather it be me. You’ve got kids to raise.”

“Mom,” Henry said. He practically choked on his food. “Don’t even think—”

“Everybody calm down,” Prudence said. “There will be no guns. No one is getting shot.”

“Of course not,” Martha said. “Just be calm.”

They finished their breakfast without a lot of chatter, and Harriet was grateful for that. All this talk about guns and people getting hurt gave her the willies. She knew she had to do the right thing. Her civic duty, in a sense. She only wished she could fast forward the day and it would be over.

“I’ll call Lily in a little while,” Harriet said. “It’s still too early.”

“Good. I’ll be in the den,” Henry said, dropping his napkin on his plate. “I might as well try to work. Let me know when you call her and you’re ready to go.”

“And I’m working from home today,” Prudence said.

“Thanks,” Harriet said. “It’s nice to know all my loved ones will be here before the big event.” That came out sarcastic even though she didn’t mean it. After all, this was her first FBI sting operation.

Prudence patted Harriet’s hand. “We’ll be with you every step.”

Harriet and Martha once again nominated themselves to handle the dishes and the kitchen. “It will help pass the time,” Harriet said.

Martha cleared the table while Harriet scraped the food from plates into the garbage. She missed her Insinkerator. It was just so much more pleasant to grind the scraps. And she liked the name. A superhero name.

Harriet set dishes in the dishwasher. “I meant what I said,” when Martha entered the kitchen.

“What?” Martha asked. “What did you say?”

“That I’m glad everyone is here for me. And … and I really don’t want you to go back east.”

Martha set cups and saucers on the table. “Oh, I wish you could get used to the idea that I can’t stay. How could I? And like I’ve said a dozen times before, I have to consider Wyatt.”

“I know,” Harriet said. “And I think it’s amazing of you that you love him so much but … and I don’t mean to sound harsh, dear, but he is a grown man who made terrible choices.”

“Yes, he is. But that doesn’t give me a ticket to run away,” Martha said. “I’m still his mother.”

“There’s nothing in the rule book that says we have to give up on living just because our adult children mess up. Is there?”

Martha took a huge breath. Harriet watched her lower lip quiver.

“I’m sorry,” Harriet said. “I’m being terrible and I don’t mean to. It’s just … just that I need you too. And Wyatt … well, maybe you could fly back every so often and visit, and you still haven’t checked to see if he can get transferred out here.”

Martha flopped into a kitchen chair. “I’ve thought so much about this. About doing my art again. About feeling alive again. But I keep thinking it was me, I was a bad mother and that’s why Wyatt—”

Harriet sat near her. “So staying back east alone is a kind of penance for your assumed parental crimes?” She pushed a piece of stray hair out of her eyes. “Martha, Wyatt’s deplorable behavior was not caused by you. You were no worse a mother than me. Look what I did? I got my son completely turned in knots because he didn’t want to build houses like his father. It’s Henry’s life. I have to get used that. Henry’s decision to sell his father’s business was his decision. That’s why the business went to him. It was for his future, not mine, not really.”

“I guess,” Martha said.

“Think about Lily. In this case, her father is more or less forcing her to do things for him, to scam people. Right now she can’t help it. But one day she’ll have to decide if she’s going into the family business. Her choice.”

Martha thought about that a moment. “I suppose you’re right. She will have to decide. She needs to go to school, become a good citizen, even if her father’s in jail.”

“That’s right,” Harriet said. “We can only take our kids so far, then it’s up to them.”

Harriet looked at the clock. “I’m going to call Lily soon.”

“I will miss you so much,” Martha said.

“Then move here, and I’ll share my grandkids with you. You deserve to be happy.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Martha put milk in the fridge. She rinsed the coffee cups and set them in the dishwasher. “Sometimes I wish there really was a way to start over. You know. A do-over. I’d be a better mother.” Harriet saw a tear drip down Martha’s cheek. “You know, the night Wyatt confessed—that was the worst night of my life.”

“Even worse than when Jack died?”

Martha nodded. “Losing Jack was permanent. He was gone. But losing Wyatt like this … was … is different. He’s gone, but not really. I feel like I’m carrying a big, heavy, Wyatt-shaped backpack all the time. Only, in my mind he’s only twelve.”