High-Caliber Concealer (17 page)

Nikki knew she should probably argue and
make things really extra clear, but in all honesty, she kind of
liked the idea that she and Jackson would be in the same old folk’s
home. There was quiet for several minutes, but eventually Jackson
sat up and began to look for his clothes.

“Peg and Jorge are getting old,” he said.
“They won’t be able to run this farm forever.”

“I know,” said Nikki with a sigh. “But she
doesn’t want to move in with mom, not that I can blame her there.
And it doesn’t sound like she’s ready to sell. So, we’ll cross that
bridge when we come to it, I guess.”

He shrugged.

“Are you secretly trying to tell me that she
needs to be moved to a nursing home or something?”

“What? No! But I’m here and I see how she
needs help with stuff. And I know that she’s never going to
actually ask for help.”

“Well, it’s not your problem,” snapped
Nikki. “If she needs help, we’ll hire someone to do chores around
the farm. You’re not obligated to help.”

He turned to her, frustration clear on his
face. “I’m happy to help. That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“What I’m trying to say,” he paused, as if
trying to formulate his words carefully, “is that in case you
didn’t know, because you haven’t been around, that she needs help.
Currently, I’m happy to help with odd jobs and heavy lifting. But I
can see a time coming when there will be more than that.”

“Oh.” Nikki decelerated her temper out of
warp factor four. “Yeah, I know. Mom knows too.”

“I don’t know that Peg knows that you
know.”

“Oh, dear God, I’ve had less confusing
conversations with Kit and he’s British and crazy. What are you
trying to say, Jackson?”

“I think Peg is concerned that you and Nell
aren’t aware of the status of the farm because you aren’t around
enough. She feels like she tells you things but it doesn’t sink in
because you’re not here to see it. You need to be here more.”

Nikki tried to formulate a response to the
suggestion and then laughed. “No.”

Jackson looked confused and slightly hurt.
“No? Just no? You didn’t even think about it.”

Nikki shrugged. “I can’t. I’m out of the
country for weeks at a stretch. I have my mail delivered to work so
they can manage my bills for me. I would have my boyfriend do it,
but he’s in the same boat I am. I can’t make new friends because I
can’t make plans more than twenty-four hours in advance, and I even
break a lot of those. I’ve got exactly enough energy and space for
the life I’m currently living. I love Grandma, but I can’t fly up
here once a month to reassure her that I know she’s got it rough
and check in on whether or not she needs a handyman or a lift to
the doctor. I appreciate that you’re looking after her best
interests, but I’ve got responsibilities to a lot of other people.
I have to consider more than just what she wants.”

“Other people that are more important than
your family?”

“Yes, actually. Grandma isn’t in crisis.
She’s fully capable, and while I appreciate her emotional needs,
and I wish I could be there for her, I can’t. And furthermore, she
hasn’t asked me to. Given the current situation parameters, I need
to stay where I’m at.”

For a moment, Jackson looked like he was
going to argue. Like this was going to be a full-blown yelling
match. Z’ev would have argued. The old Jackson would have left.
Instead, he paused to consider matters, then spoke his mind. “A
phone call every couple of weeks would probably do it. And I’m not
sure I like the Nikki that thinks of her family as current
situation parameters.”

“I have to,” said Nikki. “Someone has to be
clear-headed and make decisions. It’s my job.”

He pulled on his sweatshirt, losing his face
in the folds for a few moments. “That’s one hell of a job you’ve
got there, Nikki. It doesn’t sound very nice.”

“Nice is for people who have time,” said
Nikki.

“Uh huh. Your grandfather used to say that,
didn’t he?” Nikki shrugged. He pulled on his shoes and straightened
up. Nikki folded her arms across her chest. “Anyway, come up to the
ranch one night while you’re here and we’ll get shit-faced on
really good wine and talk about the good old days and you can tell
me about your not very nice job, and why you carry lock-picks and a
gun.”

“You’re not supposed to notice the gun,”
said Nikki.

“Yeah, like I’m not supposed to notice that
my ex-girlfriend has become a bad ass? So we’re just going to
pretend you’re the shy, retiring type? Who’s going to buy
that?”

“Just about everyone,” said Nikki with a
grin. “You’d be surprised.”

“But I don’t know why you’d bother,” said
Jackson, turning to jog up the hill. “Come on, Captain.” The
Captain went by, a blur in the darkness.

Nikki gathered up her clothes and gun, and
jammed her feet into her sneakers, walking on them like flip-flops,
bending the heels down in a way her mother would have hated. She
shuffled up to the house and then stopped, staring at her
grandmother’s SUV. She could have sworn that it was pointed the
other direction when she’d left the house. She placed a hand on the
hood and pulled it back when she discovered the engine was still
warm. She glanced up at the house, but all the lights appeared to
be off. Where had her grandmother gone?

Nikki felt like her head had barely hit the
pillow before she heard her grandmother get up. She rolled over,
checked the clock and recoiled at the 5:15 time. Farmers were
crazy. She heard Peg shower and clump down the stairs and then
leave the house by six. After that, there was blessed silence and
Nikki went back to sleep. She was still yawning at the breakfast
table when Peg returned at ten.

“You sleep a lot,” said Peg, pouring herself
a cup of coffee.

“I have to make up for when I’m out on a
job.”

“What is it you do again?”

“I’m a project coordinator for the Carrie
Mae Foundation.”

“Uh-huh. And what’s one of them do?”

“The Carrie Mae Foundation is a non-profit
organization with the goal of helping women, and it has branches
all over the world. My team and I travel to many of them and work
with their personnel to help implement procedures and solve
problems.” Nikki rattled through her cover story with ease. She
called it the ‘airplane speech’ since it was what she told to
strangers on a plane.

“So you fly into some place and tell them
what to do? People must love you.”

“It’s more like people have a problem and
they send for us.”

“Getting to ride in and save the day is lot
better than swooping in and telling them how to do their jobs.”

Nikki nodded her agreement and Peg sipped
her coffee.

“Oh, I talked to George Parsons this
morning. He’s got a ’53 Cadillac Le Mans—whatever that is. I think
it’s a convertible. I figured you could do that striped sundress
with the matching hat. You’ll look like a 1950s Vogue cover if I
can get the angles right.

“OK,” agreed Nikki.

“I’m still thinking about who’s got what
other cars. George said he’d ask some of his car friends.”

Nikki nodded again and continued to eat her
breakfast, letting Peg’s meandering digression of cars, shooting
styles, and camera equipment wash over her. She waited for a break
in the conversation intending to bring up her grandmother’s late
night trip.

“Of course, we’ll have to finish up by two
because that’s when you’ll have to go pick up your mother at the
airport.”

Nikki paused, spoon halfway to her mouth.
Peg was continuing on to discuss which outfits they might do later
in the week, if they got the right cars.

“Grandma, you can’t slip that in and pretend
it didn’t happen. I know you called mom.”

“Well, I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to
see your mother,” said Peg defensively.

“Because she’s overbearing, tries to run my
life, and has no sense of boundaries,” said Nikki.

“She’s not that bad,” said Peg.

“Grandma, last time you came to visit us in
Seattle, you left after three days.”

“There was an emergency at the farm.”

“Really? Because what I remember is that Mom
kept trying to get you to look at Senior Living Homes and you threw
a pile of brochures at her head and called her an ungrateful
harpy.”

“Yeah…” Peg trailed off and had the decency
to blush. “It’s my own fault really. We spoiled her when she was
younger. She was our only daughter and most of the time there
wasn’t any reason for her not to get her way. I think she just got
into the habit of thinking that she could arrange things the way
she thinks is best. She forgets that other people might have
differing views on what’s best for them.”

“That is a very kind way of describing her,”
said Nikki, going to the sink to rinse out her bowl.

“She’s not a bad person,” said Peg
firmly.

“Nope,” agreed Nikki, “she’s just a
monumental pain in the ass.”

“Nikki! You can’t talk about your mother
like that.” Peg looked genuinely disapproving.

“So we’ll all just be thinking it then?”

“Nikki,” Peg looked unhappy.

“It’s fine. We’ll just keep it between us,”
said Nikki, patting Peg’s shoulder.

“That is not what I said,” said Peg, her
lips pinching unhappily.

“Right, because we’re not saying it,” agreed
Nikki. “We’re just thinking it.”

“You are not funny, young lady.”

“I’m a little funny,” said Nikki, and Peg’s
lips twitched upward.

“Go get changed,” said Peg throwing up her
hands in exasperation. “Hopefully, we’ll get this shoot done real
quick and be back in time for lunch.”

But they weren’t. George Parsons wanted to
chat. And then he wanted to polish every piece of dust off the Le
Mans with a diaper. And then the light shifted. By two Nikki was
hot and sweaty from trying to look effortless and breezy and she
was starving.

“You don’t mind, do you?” asked Peg, hopping
out of the car. “I told Jorge I’d go over the numbers with him and
someone needs to get your mom. We really should have left twenty
minutes ago. You know how she hates to wait.”

“It’s fine,” said Nikki. “But hurry up and
close the door so I can crank the AC. You don’t need me sweating
through this frock.”

“Thanks, sweetie!” Peg slammed the door and
jogged off toward the operations shack on the edge of the orchard.
Nikki watched her go with a smile. She was pushing seventy-one and
didn’t seem to have slowed down a bit.

The drive into Spokane along Highway 395 was
a pretty one, taking her past the edge of the Colville National
Forest and Nine Mile Falls before dropping her into the suburbs of
Spokane. After wending her way through the center of the city and
out the other side she finally arrived, very late, at the Spokane
airport. The airport was a boring assortment of buildings, looking
like the usual collection of forgotten moving boxes piled next to
each other. The best she could say about it was that it had very
tidy landscaping.

Nikki checked the charge on her cell phone
and began to worry. Being this late should have made her mother
begin a five-minute rotation of calls and texts. She pulled into
the loading zone and scanned for her mother. She finally spotted
Nell by her shirt, which was, of course, a loud paisley print with
a neckline that was far too low. Nell was talking to a stylish
blonde and behind her was a girl with jet black hair standing next
to a slightly older woman dressed in khakis. Nikki groaned and
dropped her head on to the steering wheel, which honked the horn.
Her mother looked around and waved happily. Oh, so happily.

“Nikki, look who I found on the plane!”
chirped Nell.

“All of my friends,” replied Nikki, glaring
at them.

“Yes! They’re coming with us back to the
farm!”

“Really? Because I was thinking about firing
them off into space.”

“Don’t be a sour puss,” said Nell, “and help
us load our bags in the back.”

“We’ve got it,” said Jenny, taking Nell’s
suit case. “You go ahead and get in the car.”

“We met your mom!” squeaked Jane thumping
into the driver’s window in a way that reminded Nikki strongly of
Captain Beaumont.

“Why don’t you eat this granola bar?” said
Ellen taking an appraising look at Nikki.

Nikki thought about refusing, but decided it
was a pointless gesture. “Thanks. What are you guys doing here?”
She unwrapped the granola bar and began to take enormous bites,
trying to eat as much of it as possible before her mother finished
fussing with the luggage.

“I called the girls to talk about your
situation and see what they thought. And it turned out no one was
having much fun on their vacation. Jane wouldn’t leave the room
until after dark and Jenny got a sunburn on her boobs and my
daughters tried to sign me up for a class on making bread.”

“You don’t enjoy baking,” said Nikki,
puzzled.

“No, I really don’t,” agreed Ellen. “There’s
too much flour all over the place. It annoys me. Anyway, we decided
that your mystery and pie vacation sounded like more fun. So here
we are, and as a bonus we got to meet your mom.”

“Swell,” said Nikki sourly as Nell climbed
into the passenger seat.

“Nikki, you really shouldn’t snack,” said
Nell, eyeing the granola bar. “You’ll get fat.”

“Studies show that snacking improves the
metabolism,” said Nikki, around a mouthful of granola bar.

“And don’t talk with your mouth full. What
will your friends think?”

“Justifiable homicide?”

“Why do you have to be weird? She’s not
always this weird,” said Nell turning to reassure the girls in the
back seat.

“Actually,” said Jane, “I’m fairly certain
that she’s at least that weird all the time.”