peek over her shoulder, only to see that the landscaper hadn’t moved either, that his eyes were still on her.
Amy had no more than returned the photograph of Ellie and Harold back to the mantel and started back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Had Maria had a change of heart about the tea?
Oddly enough, Amy hoped so. She returned to the living room and answered the door only to find a tall, dark-haired man on the stoop. He appeared to be Latino, with soft brown eyes and a shy smile.
“Mrs. Masterson?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m Eddie with Gonzales Landscaping. I was asked to come by and look at the yard so that we can give the owner an estimate for cleaning things up around here.”
“Oh, good.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It definitely needs some work.”
“Do you have any dogs I should be aware of?”
“No, I don’t.” At least, not at this house.
“Is there anything specific in the yard that needs to be trimmed? Anything you’re especially concerned about?”
“Actually, I’ve only done a cursory walk-through of the yard, so I can’t really say. I know there’s a rose garden in back, and it’s in bad shape. Other than that, the lawn needs to be mowed and edged, the trees and bushes need to be trimmed.”
“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Masterson, I’ll take a look around.”
“No, not at all. But call me Amy.”
“All right.” As he stepped off the porch, she closed the door and returned to the kitchen, where she opened the pantry, threw out all the open containers of food, and boxed up the rest. She found an unopened bag of Kitty Delight, although she hadn’t seen any other sign of a cat. Rather than pack it up with the food items, she left it on a shelf to deal with later.
After washing down the shelves, she started on the drawers, then scoured the counters.
Near the telephone, which no longer had a dial tone, she found a pink steno pad with several notations written in pencil:
Soup kitchen Friday. Vera will pick me up.
Tell Joey the washing machine is broken again.
760-555-1493–Daniel Delacourt–tomorrow afternoon here.
Dr. Ryley–new medication not working.
Odd, she thought. It wasn’t the typical list, like the items she needed from the grocery store. It appeared that Ellie was keeping notes for herself, jotting down things she didn’t want to forget.
Had she known her mind was failing?
Again, the doorbell rang. Amy wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Fifteen or twenty minutes, she supposed.
Assuming the landscaper had finished checking out the yard and wanted to tell her he was leaving, she made her way back to the entry and swung open the door only to find her ex-husband and her daughter on the stoop.
“Brandon,” was all she could say.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
She could be asking him the same question. And while she was tempted to level with him, as had been her habit in the past, she wasn’t sure what kind of an explanation she owed him now that they were separated.
Yet with Callie standing in the midst of them, her bright-eyed smile proclaiming that she was certain the surprise visit had pleased them all, Amy found herself scrambling for a response.
“We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese’s,” Callie announced.
Now, that was unexpected. Amy and Callie had always been at the bottom of Brandon’s priority list. So why the change of heart?
When she shot him a quizzical glance, he shrugged. “I had some free time and thought I’d spend it with Callie.”
Apparently the separation was having a positive effect on their almost nonexistent father/daughter relationship. But if he’d called ahead of time, Amy wouldn’t have had to get a sitter.
Last night, she’d asked Stephanie Goldstein to watch Callie again, since they often helped each other by trading child care. But it hadn’t worked out this time, and Amy had hired Sylvia Griswold to sit with her instead.
“It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing,” Brandon added.
Apparently.
But it still didn’t quite ring true.
“When I found Callie with Sylvia,” he said, “I tried your cell, but you didn’t answer.”
She hadn’t heard the phone ring. Had she forgotten to charge the battery?
“I asked Sylvia where you were, and she said you’d gone to Fairbrook. She mentioned Sugar Plum Lane, and so I drove by and spotted your car.” Brandon scanned the porch and yard of the neglected house, his brow furrowed as though trying to connect the dots.
“Do you want to come with us to Chuck E. Cheese’s?” Callie asked. “It’ll be fun, Mommy.”
“I’d like to, honey, but I’ve got some work to do here.” Amy looked at her ex-husband and added, “I’m helping out a friend.”
Brandon furrowed a brow, clearly perplexed, and she could understand why. When they’d been together, she’d stuck pretty close to home and always kept him in the loop, even if he hadn’t seemed too interested in play dates, dance lessons, or mommy-and-me gym classes.
Footsteps crunched on the dried leaves and twigs that littered the side of the house, and they all turned to the sound and watched the landscaper approach.
The dark-haired man aimed a friendly smile her way. “Have you got a minute, Amy?”
Brandon’s stance stiffened. “Is this your friend?”
What was he asking her? Did he think she was dating, and that she had something to hide?
Amy crossed her arms. “No, this is…the gardener.” She felt a little guilty referring to the man by his occupation, but to be honest, he might have remembered her name, but she’d forgotten his.
The man in question reached out to greet Brandon. “I’m Eddie Gonzales. Are you Mr. Davila?”
“No.” Brandon paused for a moment, then gripped the man’s hand, yet his body remained tense. “Brandon Masterson.”
Eddie turned his attention back to Amy. “Is this a bad time?”
Apparently it was. And it seemed to be getting worse by the minute. “No, what’s up?”
“Do you mind coming to the side of the house so I can show you something?”
“Not
