Summer Shadows (9 page)

He rolled his eyes. “Dana…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course, we’d have to get Aunt Julia’s permission,” Dana said, assuming this was the cause of Ron’s reluctance.

“You came with your aunt?” Amelia asked.

Dana nodded. “Yep. We’re spending the summer here and fixing up the house so we can sell it.”

“My dad says that paint is the cheapest way to redo a house,” Amelia said authoritatively. “When we moved here, he let me paint my room whatever color I wanted.”

“Aww, man,” Dana said, enviously.

“Speaking of which,” Ron said, not liking where the conversation was going, “I think it’s time that we went home. Aunt Julia might need our help now.”

Dana gave her customary pout. “But she said she wouldn’t need us until tomorrow.”

“I think we ought to check anyway.”

“Oh, whatever! I’ll see you later, Amelia.” She took off with Jack on her bicycle, leaving Ron alone with their new neighbor.

She looked admiringly at his bike. It was a camouflage off-road bike with sixteen gears and a matching water bottle - the coolest bike that Ron had ever owned. He had gotten it the Christmas before, so it was still new and didn’t have any scratches on it yet. That was something he hoped to change.

He put a foot on the pedal and smiled. “It was nice meeting you,” he said.

“You, too,” she said. “I have a bike, too.”

“Oh? Why don’t you ride it?”

“Dad doesn’t like me riding on the sidewalk.” She brightened. “But maybe he wouldn’t mind if I did it with you guys.”

Ron shifted in his seat. “Well, maybe, but…”

“I’ll go ask him!”

She turned and ran off.

Ron pedaled away as fast as he could and coasted into the driveway. So much time had passed: Aunt Julia must be nearly through with the priming by now.

He found Julia standing at the kitchen table, which was now covered with a drop cloth. She stirred a bucket of white paint with a wooden stick, and her face was almost the same shade. Dana and Jack were at the refrigerator, getting drinks.

“Did you have a good time?” Aunt Julia asked Ron.

He nodded and dropped into the kitchen chair. “I’m ready to work now.”

10

J
ulia woke early the next morning. Her arms and back were sore from the painting she and Ron had done; but when she went upstairs with her cup of morning brew, she was so pleased with the results that it made the aches and pains seem worthwhile.

The strong, clean scent of fresh paint was refreshing. She ran her fingers lightly over the wall in Dana’s room and rubbed them together.

Already dry – nice. Moving the fans upstairs must have done the trick.

She went into Ron and Jack’s room and found that it, too, was dry. She stood amid the drop clothes, buckets, and closed cans of paint, sipping her coffee and thinking.

She reached into her bathrobe pocket and pulled out the decorating pamphlet that Ron had dropped. When Julia picked it up, she noticed that one of the pages was covered in Dana’s scrawling handwriting, and she recognized it as the picture Dana had shown her in the van. Little hearts decorated the borders and arrows pointed out objects of interest. The color scheme was a far cry from the delicate pinks and white of Dana’s room in Springfield, and further still from the tan and white picture that Ron had pointed out.

No doubt Ron was trying to be responsible again and talked Dana into picking a boring, but more saleable palette. Julia decided that she’d have none of it. Despite what she told Ron about white being preferred, she couldn’t imagine doing an entire house exclusively in white. The place would look like an institution. As long as they were stuck with having to repaint and redo an entire house for the summer, they were going to have some fun doing it, even if it did cost a little more.

Besides, she didn’t like the idea of Ron pushing Dana around, even he did so for what he thought were good reasons. She was going to have to let him know, again, that she was in charge. But knowing him as she did, she thought it would be best if she could find a subtle way to tell him.

Julia slipped the pamphlet back into her pocket and went downstairs.

Shafts of early morning sun lit up the drab interiors and filled Julia with a sense of wellbeing, despite the almost overwhelming amount of work that needed to done. She felt empowered today, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jack woke up first. He stumbled into the kitchen where she was preparing breakfast, rubbing his eyes. He looked so cuddly in his superhero pajamas that Julia was tempted to stop and scoop him up.

She told Jack to wake the others for breakfast, and by the time she had finished, they were fully dressed and ready for the day.

“What are we doing today?” Dana asked, around a mouthful of cereal.

Ron poured the last of the gallon of milk into his bowl and Julia made a mental note to buy more.

“We have to run some errands,” she said, checking her watch. “We have to go to the grocery store, then the hardware store to pick up the paint we need. The lawn care guys will be here around ten-thirty.”

At the word, “paint”, Dana and Ron exchanged glances that Julia pretended not to see.

When breakfast was over, they piled the dishes in the sink and left. It was 8:30 a.m. and the street was still quiet. Dana noted that the police car was still in the driveway.

“I guess he doesn’t work on Mondays,” she said.

Julia noticed its neat and tidy appearance. “That’s where Office Wilde lives?”

“Yes, with Amelia.”

“Amelia?”

“Wilde’s daughter,” Ron said.

“Oh, I didn’t know he had a daughter.”

Dana leaned out the window. “Hi Amelia!” she called out.

“Hi, Amelia! Hi!” echoed Jack.

On the sidewalk with Amelia, a tall, elderly woman walked briskly down the street, holding the leashes of five energetic dogs. They were of all breeds and mixes, all sizes and ages, from older dogs to just out of puppyhood.

The woman’s face was a mask of concentration, her short white hair pulled back from her face with a kerchief. She pulled so hard on the leashes that her back was at almost a ninety-degree angle with the sidewalk.

Behind her, Amelia concentrated on her two little charges: a dark gray dog and a smaller tiger-striped puppy with perky ears. Both together were nearly as much of a handful as the five bigger dogs.

“Amelia!” Dana yelled again.

Amelia heard this time. She turned and her face broke into a smile. Julia slowed down as they came up beside her.

Dana was almost beside herself.

“Ohmigosh, those puppies are so
cute
!” she gushed.

Uh oh,
Julia thought.

“Which one is the one you want?” Dana asked.

Amelia indicated with her head. “The striped one,” she said proudly. “His name is Tiger and Mrs. Jurta lets me help with his training. We’re, like, best friends.”

“He’s so cute!”

“Oh, hi, Ron!” Amelia chirped. “Where are you guys going? Are you going to the lake?”

“Nope, to the grocery store,” Dana said. “See you later today!”

“Cool!”

Julia pulled away from the dog walkers as Dana rolled up the windows, then settled back in her seat with a sigh.

“So that’s Amelia,” Julia commented. “She seems nice. Whose dogs are those?”

“Mrs. Jurta’s –she lives across the street and Amelia goes over there when her dad’s at work,” Dana supplied. “She says that Mrs. Jurta gets them from the pound and that’s there’s two cute little puppies and she wants to adopt one, but when she asked her dad, but he was like, ‘Well, maybe, we’ll see.’”

“Good grief, Dana!” Julia laughed. “Did you get her date of birth and baptismal records, too? How long were you talking with her?”

“Only a few minutes,” Dana said. “She said that she’d ask Mrs. Jurta if I could come and help with the puppies sometime. Can I go if she says yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She gave a disappointed sigh. The answer was not to her liking.

Julia wanted to pacify her without backing down. “I’d like to get to know Mrs. Jurta a little before I let you work with her, just to be on the safe side. You know the rules about speaking to strangers, right?”

“We know,” Ron interrupted. “We’ll be careful.”

Julia nodded, but added, “Even in a small town like this, creepy things can happen, you know.”

“Like at the haunted house,” Jack whispered.

“The haunted house?”

“There’s a haunted house at the end of our street,” Dana explained. “Didn’t you see it?”

“At the end of the street?”

“The one that’s empty and creepy.”

“Oh, the old Victorian: It does look creepy, but who told you it was haunted?”

“No one,” Dana sighed. “But it’s obvious. All you have to do is look at it.”

Julia raised an eyebrow at Ron. He rolled his eyes and shrugged.

She switched on the radio, and they listened in silence until they reached the grocery store on the outskirts of the city.

They stocked up on groceries and went on to the hardware store. There, after much discussion, Julia succeeded in having her own way with the paint selection. Dana got her purples and greens and Ron selected green and blue for the boys’ room.

John Irwin, who was mixing the paints, got into the spirit of things and asked, “Are you redoing the whole house?”

“Yep!” Dana said cheerfully. She stood on the end of the carriage, running her finger around the edge of the purple paint can. “We’re fixing it up so we can sell it.”

“That is a big job,” he confirmed. “I hope you have lots of help.”

Julia smiled confidently, but she couldn’t help thinking:
Julia Lamontaigne, what have you let yourself in for? You’re going to be painting from now until September.

Dana handed her two neon chips of paint, one orange and one yellow.

“How about this for the living room?” she asked.

As much as Julia hated stomping on their artistic flourishes, she felt obliged to point out, as gently as she could, that the living room should not resemble a police crime scene.

11

T
hey were having such a good time in the paint department that Julia completely forgot about her lawn care experts. It was only when Ron happened to mention the time that she remembered. She instantly panicked, imagining hordes of teenagers all over the lawn, breaking things by accident, and suing her for damages to their equipment.

She hurried the methodical John along, raced through the checkout, and drove quickly back to Whipple Lane.

While the street was quiet, Julia’s house was not. An old pickup truck with a new paint job and a long, empty trailer was parked in front of their house, and the lawn was a hive of well-organized activity. Two lawnmowers were plowing through the tall grass in the front of the house, navigated by two goggled individuals wearing tall boots. Another figure followed them with a rake and a trash bag. A tall, extraordinarily thin man wielded a weed-whacker with practiced precision, while a heavy woman in a tank top sat in the bed of the pickup, working industriously at something that Julia couldn’t see. On the side of the pickup a sign declared
John Irwin III’s Lawn and Garden and Handyman Work
.

Already the difference was dramatic: in the space of a few short hours, the house at 134 Whipple Lane had gone from looking like a haunted reject to a slightly neglected family-friendly home. It was actually welcoming.

“Oh, wow!” Julia exclaimed, slowing the van down for a better look.

“They’re here already,” Ron commented. “They work fast.”

As the equipment was blocking the driveway, Julia parked on the side of the road just in front of the pickup truck.

She stepped out into the hot, humid morning, and went over to the side of the pickup truck. The woman there was a teenager with a face that looked nearly as young as Dana’s did. Julia was surprised to note that they were all teenagers - the operation was so smoothly run that she had expected to find an adult overseeing everything.

Ron hopped up onto the pickup’s tire to look into the bed. The girl was opening a bag of lawn seeding treatment.

“Hey,” she said. She was pretty, about thirty pounds overweight, with gorgeous blue eyes. Her brown hair was short and carefully styled, and her earrings glinted in the morning light. Her jeans and boots spoke of the business at hand.

“Hello,” Julia said. “I’m Julia Lamontaigne. Is John Irwin here?”

“Oh, yeah.” The girl indicated behind her. “He’s coming.”

The tall, skinny man, still holding the weed-whacker with one wiry, muscular arm, came loping around the corner. He pulled off his goggles to reveal a friendly face framed by dark hair and a thin reddish beard, no older that the girl who sat in the back of his pickup truck.

John Irwin III pulled off his glove and wiped his streaming forehead with his sleeve.

“Mrs. Lamontaigne?” he asked.

“Ah, no,” said Julia. “No, just Julia Lamontaigne. Are you John Irwin?”

“The third,” he said, extending his hand for a quick shake. “But call me J. C.”

“J. C.,” she smiled. “You’ve gotten so much done already.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugged. He had an easy kind of effect, laid-back and completely non-confrontational. “We like to move it when we’re working, you know? Actually, I’m glad you came when you did, because we weren’t sure how much you wanted us to do. I have your work order here…”

The girl in the pickup truck rummaged in a bin for a second, and then pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of printed paper which she handed over.

“Oh, this is my girlfriend and associate, Derval. Derval Raye.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Derval Raye.

“Very nice to meet you,” Julia answered. Jack pulled insistently on the corner of her blouse, so she bent and picked him up. “This is Jack, Ron, and Dana.”

“Hi!” Jack chirped.

“Hey, buddy,” J. C. said, then showed the paper to Julia. “I noted that you wanted the front lawn trimmed and treated for ticks and that you had the insecticide and stuff, but I didn’t know if you had wanted us to seed it, and do the flowers and the back lawn, too.”

Julia looked over the bed of the truck to the work that was already done. The three teenage boys stood in a group, talking to each other and chugging sports drinks. The lawn was immaculately shorn, and now she could see thin patches where the grass was burnt or gnawed at by grubs. The edges of the lawn had been carefully trimmed so as to avoid the flowers, which now looked even sadder since they lost their covering. She could see that it needed a lot of work.

J. C. said, “We could do it all today, if you wanted. We brought everything just in case. It’s up to you.”

Julia couldn’t help asking, “You run this business all by yourself?”

He didn’t seem offended; in fact, he flushed with pleasure, and his chest swelled a little when he answered.

“Yes, ma’am!” he said proudly. “All mine. I started it last fall, doing leaf cleanup and snow removal and stuff. It’s going pretty well. The boys and I handle the heavy work, and Derval helps both here and with the paperwork and stuff.”

“I’m impressed. Starting a successful business is a daunting task. But you seem so young - have you graduated high school?”

“I will this year.”

“Oh. And do you plan do this through college?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “Why should I? You go to college to be able to make enough money to support yourself, right?” He gestured at his crew. “Well, with a bit of elbow grease, this will be doing that by the end of the school year, and if it isn’t, I’ve still got my part-timer with a handyman on the other end of town.”

“Sounds like you have it all figured out,” Julia commented.

“I think so. I’m having trouble convincing the old man, though,” he said. “I think he’s afraid that I’m going to be a lay-about hick.”

Then, apparently thinking he had said too much, he abruptly got back to business. “Now, back to your lawn. I don’t want to push you into anything, but you do have grubs both here and in the back yard. If you don’t hit them pretty hard now, you probably won’t have much of a lawn in a few weeks, and they’ll get into the back garden as well. And, like, the whole thing would look a lot better with some seeding and treatments, too, but that’s up to you.”

“What about the ticks?” Julia asked.

“Just mowing the lawn will take care of most of them, but we’ll spray it with that stuff you got from my dad the other day, just to be sure. You won’t want to let the kids walk on it for a day or two after we do it.”

“That sounds good,” she said. “And I’d like the backyard trimmed and treated as well.”

“Okay.” He felt around in his pocket and then held out his hand. “Derval, pen, please.”

John made some marks on the page as his three employees found their way over to the pickup truck. He noticed them when he looked up.

“Oh, this is Billy, Mitch, and Connor. Guys, Mrs.…”

“Miss.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Miss Lamontaigne.”

“Please, call me Julia,” she said, feeling quite old all of the sudden. “Nice to meet you all.”

They nodded and said hello. All of them were sweating profusely and Mitch, as he took another sip, commented to Connor about the heat. He used an epithet which both surprised and annoyed Julia, especially as he said it in front of the kids. After receiving an elbow and a dirty look from Billy, Mitch promptly apologized.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He added, “Sorry, J. C.,” to his boss, who nodded.

Julia turned and handed Jack to Ron.

“Why don’t you three start bringing the groceries into the house,” she said, giving Dana the key. “Just put it all in the kitchen.”

The threesome trudged off.

J. C. said, “Mitch, take the guys and go start on the back yard. Don’t do the garden or the borders yet, and watch out for the little kids.”

The threesome turned and went back to their machines, elbowing and kidding each other while Derval and John exchanged nervous glances.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “They’re a bit rough around the edges, but they’re all right.”

Julia detected the sincerity in his voice. She decided that she was going to like John Irwin III.

“I’m sure they are,” she said. “What does J. C. stand for?”

“John Christopher,” he said. “It’s so people don’t confuse me with my dad. Now, would you like to schedule your next treatment while we’re doing paperwork?”

After arranging all of the details with J. C., Julia locked up the van and went into the house. The air was heavy with the scent of freshly cut grass and throbbed with the sound of machinery.

The kids had left the side door open. Julia stepped through to find Ron hauling two paint cans up the steep stairs, with Amelia right behind him.

Surprised to see her, Julia said, “Well, hello.”

Amelia turned to give her a huge, infectious smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Lamontaigne!” she said.

“Miss,” Julia corrected her with a wince.

“My dad said I could come over and help today if you wanted me,” Amelia continued. “He’s working in the garage today and said that I couldn’t stay for lunch, but I could come back in the afternoon if you needed me.”

“He said that, did he?” asked Julia. Her opinion of Robert Wilde plummeted: what sort of person just let their kid go hang out with a brand new neighbor whom they had barely met? Why hadn’t he come over to check this out with her first?

It went against the strong first impression that he had given her. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but she’d taken Wilde as a man who could be even more protective than she was.

Before she had time to decide what to do, Ron was speaking.

“We’re bringing the paint upstairs now,” he said. “That way we can start on it right away.”

Julia had to speak loudly over the sound of the lawnmowers. “Be careful on those stairs. Those cans are heavy and I think the stairs are uneven.”

“I’m alright,” Amelia declared. “Mrs. Jurta says I’m as strong as an ox, and Mrs. LaVallee says that I can climb like a mountain goat.”

“Mrs. LaVallee?”

“She’s my Girl Scout leader. She said that mountains are a symbol of life and all its struggles and that it’s only by going through the struggles and stuff that you can make it to the top and see the view. She says…”

“She says an awful lot,” Ron interrupted. “Come on, Amelia, my arms are killing me.”

He started up the stairs again. Amelia followed with a chipper, “Not me! I’m not tired!”

Ron looked back at Julia and shook his head, amused.

Smiling, Julia went into the kitchen. It was surprisingly in order. The sacks of groceries were unpacked on the kitchen table, sorted by box, bag, or can size. The bags had been thrown on the floor in one corner and the stuff from the hardware store was piled up in the doorway. Dana knelt in front of one of the cabinets, neatly stacking the cans that Jack handed to her.

Julia complemented the children on their organization while she opened the kitchen window. Ron and Amelia clamored back downstairs, Amelia still talking a blue streak. Ron’s face had grown impassive, as though he had shut down his hearing.

“Hey, Amelia!” Dana called out, breaking into the conversation. “Want to give me a hand with the groceries?”

There was a plaintive, lilting tone in her voice – she was jealous of the attention that Ron was receiving from their new friend. Julia wasn’t surprised to hear it, but she suddenly realized that Dana didn’t really have any girlfriends, now that Colleen was no longer next door. That meant, aside from Ron, Jack, and herself, Dana had no one. No wonder she was desperate for a friend.

Amelia hesitated, and looked from Dana to Ron.

Ron said. “Why don’t you help Dana? You guys need some girl-talk.”

Julia watched the emotions play out on Amelia’s face. She thought that they ran the gamut, which was surprising for a decision of such little import. Why such a big deal when she’d come over here to hang out with Dana in the first place?

When Amelia gave Ron a sidelong look, Julia understood. Amelia had a crush on Ron. It was cute, and definitely innocent, but Julia wanted to stifle it as quickly as possible. The last thing they needed was to incite an adolescent summertime romance.

She straightened up and checked her watched, clearing her throat as she did so. The four children looked at her.

“Actually, here’s what I need done. Girls, I want you to open all the windows downstairs and start the fans. Ron, you can do the same for the upstairs, and then start sanding the walls. Make sure to wear the mask.”

Ron seemed relieved. “Sure!” he said, bolting for the stairs.

“Can I help with the sanding?” Amelia asked.

“Me, too?” Dana added.

“No, I’ve only got two masks and I’m going to need one. Besides, I need you two to look after Jack and start things going for lunch. Dana, we’ll be using the hot dogs and vegetables for lunch today. You can make your dip, if you like.”

Dana’s face lit up and she grabbed Amelia’s arm.

“Want to help me make dip?” she asked.

Amelia nodded quickly. “Okay! That sounds like fun!”

“First the windows,” Julia warned. “And take Jack with you.”

She caught a bit of the girls’ conversation as they pulled up the windows in the dining room. They had to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the lawn mowers. Dana told Amelia about how she’d found the dip recipe while watching a cooking show on TV.