“And if all you find are a bunch of frogs?”
“That’s okay, too. I’m expecting most of it to be bad. But even bad artists like to show off their stuff, and you can almost always find something positive to say.” She held up her hand and began to count off. “You can say, ‘Oh, I love the way you use color.’ Or, ‘That’s an interesting perspective.’ Or, ‘How original. I wouldn’t have thought to have painted the sky brown.’ ”
“Are you always this positive?”
“Sure.”
“Why?” he asked bluntly.
“Why not? Life is too short. Why surround yourself with negative energy when you can be positive?”
“When life gives you lemons, and all that.”
“Exactly. I mean, what’s the alternative? Suck on the lemons?”
Ford frowned. “You sound like my mother.”
“Your mother is a very wise and sensitive woman, a positive force in her own right. I’m surprised that you’re not more like her.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been my experience that if shit is going to happen, it’s going to happen, good vibes or not.”
“You’re very cynical, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Just logical. You can’t control whether good things or bad things happen just because you think good thoughts.” He paused. “I remember there was some kids’ book where one of the characters told the others to think good thoughts …”
“Peter Pan.” Carly nodded. “When he was teaching the Darling children to fly.”
“Right. And we all know what happened to them, don’t we? Caught by pirates and tied up. Made to walk the plank.”
Carly laughed, turned off the lights, and gestured toward the front door. “I think you have all the pictures you need.”
“I do.” He followed her outside and waited while she locked the door. “Oh, before I forget …” He removed a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s the name and phone number of the security guy I was telling you about. He’s expecting your call.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely get in touch with him. I really haven’t liked any of the proposals I’ve seen so far.”
“Let me know before you call him, and I’ll give him a heads-up.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“How ’bout I drop off a copy of the article before it goes to the printer? You know, in case you want to add something, or change something.”
“That would be great. Either way, just give me a call. By the way, how’s Grace doing? Is she home yet?”
“She’s doing great. They’re springing her tomorrow.”
“Please tell her I’ve been thinking about her and I’ll stop over one day after she gets settled.”
“I’ll do that.” He slid his phone back into his pocket. “So where’s home this week?”
“The house I’m renting is on Hudson Street. Right around the corner from Cherry. It’s a really cute place, but it’s going to take me a few days to settle in.”
“Hey, if you need help with anything, just let me know.”
“I might take you up on that. Thanks.” Carly opened the driver’s-side door of her car.
“So I’ll give you a call when the article is finished.” Ford closed the door for her after she’d slid in behind the wheel.
“Great. I’ll talk to you then.”
Carly started the engine, waited for Ford to back out of the driveway. He hit his horn one time as he drove away, and she waved in return. She drove straight across Old St. Mary’s Church onto Hudson, where she made a left turn. A few blocks down, she pulled into her driveway and sat in the car for a moment, studying the little house that so quickly and unexpectedly had become her home. Smiling, she went inside and dropped her bag on the dining room table on her way to the kitchen. She opened and closed the cabinet doors, then the drawers. It was all so woefully empty, especially for someone who loved to cook. Her kitchen at home was well stocked with just about everything she could ever need, and there was no point in replacing everything here, but there were staples that she just had to have. Driving back to Connecticut to pick up some household things was out of the question. She didn’t have a few days to waste. She made a list of her absolute necessities, then weighed the pros and cons of running out to find a store nearby that carried everything she wanted, or ordering online.
Online, with overnight delivery, won out. She could pick up some takeout for dinner and have a simple breakfast in the morning, and by this time tomorrow night, all of her purchases would have arrived. Satisfied with her decision, she opened her laptop and began to order her must-haves. When she finished, she drove into town and picked up dinner from the Thai restaurant on Charles Street, then went back to her house to eat and finish unpacking her clothes. A summer storm was brewing and the temperature was beginning to drop, so she opened all the windows to let out the warm air of the day and turned on the ceiling fans in the bedroom and the living room.
By ten P.M., she was exhausted, but the only thing left on her to-do list was to grab a quick shower before she fell into her new bed in her new bedroom. She stretched her legs and sighed, listening to the drum of raindrops on the roof, so pleased to have accomplished so much in so short a time. She was well on her way to falling asleep when it occurred to her that Ford could have offered to email his article to her instead of bringing it over himself. Smiling into her pillow at the thought of seeing him again so soon, she turned over and went to sleep.
Chapter 15 
“WELL, now I know how Cleopatra felt, riding on one of those litters, being carried by handsome young men.” Grace forced a smile as the two EMTs lifted her and carried her from the bottom of the steps to the top of the staircase, where Dan and Lucy waited with a wheelchair. “Without the canopy, of course.”
After she’d been deposited into the chair and the footrests adjusted to accommodate her broken leg, Grace wrinkled her nose and frowned. “A wheelchair. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be forced into using one of these.”
“It’s only temporary, Mom.” Ford came up the steps carrying some of his mother’s belongings that they’d gathered from her hospital room. “Where do you want your stack of get-well cards?”
“It depends on where you’re going to hole me up, doesn’t it?” she grumbled as Lucy began to wheel her down the hall to the family’s living quarters.
“Thanks, guys.” Ford saluted the EMTs before following the chair.
“Good luck,” one of the guys tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the lobby.
“No kidding,” Ford muttered under his breath.
“You got this?” Dan asked.
“Oh, sure.” Ford continued down the hallway. “You’ve got work to do. Go do it.”
“Thanks. Let me know if Mom needs anything.” Dan turned and went down the steps.
“Mom,” Ford called when he reached the open door of the family suite.
“In here,” Lucy returned the call.
Ford went into the living room and found his mother staring out the window.
“I’m trapped,” she told him. “Trapped in an aging body and a cast that weighs more than the rest of me.”
“Mom, it’s only—” he began.
She cut him off. “Temporary. Thank you. You don’t need to keep telling me that. But how would you feel if you were stuck someplace and couldn’t go where you wanted to go, or do what you wanted to do?” She glowered at him.
He could have replied that he was starting to feel a bit of that himself, stuck in St. Dennis, playing Jimmy Olsen when he’d rather be out on the Bay, but he knew better than to even hint at the comparison.