California Schemin' - Kate George [20]
“Where are you taking that?” I asked.
“The trash pile by the barn. Then I’m going to find my hidden stash of whiskey and have a drink. Like it or not, this is the beginning of a really big project that I’ve been hoping to put off indefinitely.”
Tom went out to the barn, and I turned my attention to the mess. A film of grime covered the counter tops and chairs. A pile of paper scraps, mouse droppings and who knows what kind of hair littered the kitchen table. The floor was covered in more of the same.
“I think we should start high and work low,” I said, “and maybe we should take everything movable out onto the porch and clean it before we bring it back in.”
Meg went into the laundry room and came back with a couple of dust masks for us to wear. She grabbed kitchen gloves from under the sink and handed me the purple pair.
“These yellow ones are small,” she said. “I think the purple ones will fit you better.”
“Good. I like the purple ones better anyway.”
We set to work carrying the chairs, toaster and what used to be clean dishes in the drainer out to the porch. The cookies that had been sitting on a plate on the kitchen table got trashed. I took the broom and swiped at the ceiling, trying to get the bits of dirt and cobwebs that were hanging from the slats.
We washed down the kitchen cabinets and then the tops of the counters using disinfectant spray. Meg used a whisk broom and dustpan to swipe the pile of crud off the table, and I cleaned the surface. Meg sighed when we got to the floor.
“I’m going to have to get another trash bag,” she said. “There’s a lot of crap in that ceiling.”
We were just finishing up when Tom walked in with a stack of pizza boxes.
“My hero,” Meg said.
“Mine too!” I grabbed the boxes from the top of the pile and set them on the table.
“I doubted you’d be in the mood for cooking after taking care of this mess, and I didn’t want PB&J.” Tom set the remaining boxes on the table next to my pile. “I’m going to call the kids.”
Gemma, Pete, Louise and Jeremy thundered down the stairs to cries of “Pizza!”
Gemma took a moment to give me a hug, and then they all disappeared into the living room with a couple of pizzas and paper plates. The TV clicked on.
“You let them watch TV while they eat?’ I asked.
“Only on pizza night.” Meg said, standing at the table. “We still have to clean all the stuff out on the porch. I’d forgotten about that. I don’t particularly want to start eating all my meals standing up.”
“It can wait until after we’ve eaten.” Tom reached into the fridge and brought out three beers. Then he hoisted himself up on the kitchen counter and sat with his plate in his lap.
I leaned on the edge of the counter, and Meg slid her butt onto the table.
“I hope the kids don’t come in and see us doing this. It’s hard enough to keep them off the counters.”
We ate, tossed the boxes in the trash and cleaned the chairs out on the porch. I stretched as Meg and I finished wiping the last chair.
“I’m heading home,” I said. “I’ve got some cleaning up of my own to do, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
My phone was buzzing when I got in my truck. I searched through the discarded junk and clothing on the seat, finally finding it stuck in the passenger side door pocket. I pounced on the phone and flipped it open before it stopped ringing.
“Bree?”
“Yes?” I didn’t recognize the voice.
“Sheriff Fogel. Beau’s had an accident.”
My heart either stopped beating or was beating so fast it was like a hummingbird in my chest. My voice was trapped in my throat.
“Bree? Are you there?”
“I’m here.” My breath rushed out of me with the words. “Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s had a concussion, and his leg is broken. They’re keeping him in the hospital for now. He’s refusing to call anyone himself, but he doesn’t have any family to take care of him out here. You are the only contact I have.”
“I’ll tell his family. We’ll get someone out there.”
I was back in the house in an instant. Tom and Meg looked at me in surprise