floor was covered with either Legos, Hot Wheels, or the DragonballZ and Gundam Wing action figures that had been made famous by Japanese cartoons.
The moment she stepped inside, Charlotte wrinkled her nose against the distinctive sour smell. Since the bed had been stripped down to the mattress, and the sheets and comforter were piled in a corner, it didn’t take her long to figure out that Aaron had been sick all over the bed during the night. She figured that the bedding was more than likely the source of the stench.
The pine-scented disinfectant she always used would go a long way in making the room smell better, but a good airing out would help even more, she decided, eyeing the large window.
The wood-framed window proved to be stubborn, but after tugging on it for several frustrating minutes, she finally got it raised. Almost immediately, a steady breeze filled the room with fresh air.
After pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, Charlotte gathered the pile of soiled bedding and clothes, then carried the bundle to the laundry room, located just behind the kitchen. While the washing machine filled with hot sudsy water, she separated the sheets from the comforter.
A large lump of something was tangled in the corner of the fitted bottom sheet. When Charlotte shook the sheet, a small teddy bear tumbled out, its dark brown furry covering matted and wet.
As Charlotte gingerly picked up the bear, she smiled. Hank had slept with a teddy bear too until he was just about Aaron’s age. Her smile widened. Hank had named his bear Company, and she wondered if Aaron had given his bear a name too. She’d once asked her son why he’d named it such an odd name, and he’d simply grinned and told her that he hadn’t. Then he’d reminded her that each night when she’d tucked him into bed, she’d always included the bear and told him it would keep him company, so he’d simply assumed that Company was the bear’s name.
But Hank was no longer a little boy like Aaron who slept with teddy bears. Nor was he a teenager like B.J. Charlotte’s smile faded, and a stab of longing knifed through her. Her Hank was a grown man now, almost forty-two. And you will be sixty in a few days.
Charlotte swallowed hard to ease the sudden tightness in her throat as she checked the tag on the Aaron’s teddy bear to see if it was washable. Once she’d determined that it was, she dropped it into the washing machine with the sheets.
Cleaning Aaron’s room was always a challenge. In Charlotte’s opinion, the boy had been overindulged since his father’s death and had enough toys for ten kids. Yet another sign of Marian’s instability, she thought as she separated the Legos from the Hot Wheels and dropped them into brightly colored plastic tubs that had been placed on a low shelf against the wall.
Before Charlotte began on B.J.’s room, she returned to the laundry room and transferred the sheets and bear from the washer to the dryer. When she came out of the laundry room, the sight of Marian standing near the kitchen counter gave her a start.
“Oh, Marian.” She placed her hand on her chest above her racing heart. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Marian waved at the toaster and loaf of bread. “Aaron says he’s hungry, and I thought some dry toast might be better for his stomach than a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. I don’t want to even imagine the mess that would make if he threw it up,” she added with a shudder as she removed a slice of bread from the loaf and dropped it into the toaster.
“Me either,” Charlotte agreed, noting that Marian had finally dressed. An attractive woman in her late thirties, Marian was wearing a lightweight royal blue sweater and matching slacks that flattered her already slim figure.
What a difference a little makeup and the right clothes made, Charlotte thought, noting that the particular shade of blue was a perfect foil for the younger woman’s dark hair and flawless, ivory complexion. “How about some oatmeal to go along with the toast?” she suggested.
Marian shook her head as she turned on the toaster. “Thanks, but not yet. Maybe later, after we see if he can keep the toast down. And, Charlotte—” She hesitated, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I apologize for leaving such a mess in here, but the last couple of days have been pretty hectic. A terrific opportunity came up out of the blue—one of those offers too good to refuse. But I’ve had to really scramble to finalize the deal.”
Charlotte smiled and waved away her apology. “Hey, that’s why you hired me, isn’t it?”
Marian didn’t answer but gazed just past Charlotte to a window. “With Aaron sick, I need to make a call and cancel my luncheon appointment with Jefferson Harper,” she said, clearly distracted, as if talking to herself. “Maybe I can reschedule for tonight. B.J. could stay with Aaron…maybe have dinner with Jefferson instead of lunch.”
The toaster dinged and the slice of bread popped up, all evenly brown and crisp. Marian stared at it as if she had never seen it before. Then she shook her head and groaned. “Too many distractions,” she mumbled. “And too much to do.” She removed the toast and placed it on a saucer.
“Jefferson Harper,” Charlotte murmured. “Hmm, why does that name seem so familiar?” But as soon as she voiced the question out loud, she suddenly remembered where she’d heard the name before. “Isn’t he the nephew that inherited the old Devilier house on St. Charles?”
Marian nodded. “That’s the one. Jefferson’s mother was Foster Devilier’s sister. She and her husband died when Jefferson was just a young boy—a car accident I think—and Foster raised him. Since Foster never had children of his own, he left everything to Jefferson. Then about a year ago, Jefferson decided to renovate the old family home and turn it into luxury apartments. A friend of a friend recommended my firm to handle the leasing of the apartments.”
“Such a small world,” Charlotte murmured.
Marian frowned. “Excuse me?”
Charlotte waved a hand.
“Sorry, just thinking out loud. One of my employees has been dating the son of the man who did the Devilier renovations, and Maid-for-a-Day won the contract for the clean-up. I’ve scheduled the cleanup for tomorrow and Sunday. In fact, when I finish here today, I intend to go over to the Devilier house and take one last walk-through.”
“No kidding?”
Charlotte grinned. “I kid you not.” She stepped closer and took the saucer of toast from Marian’s hand. “Now you go ahead and make that call, and I’ll see that Aaron gets his toast. And what about a small glass of apple juice to go with it? We don’t want him to dehydrate.”
Marian nodded. “Thanks, Charlotte. And good idea about the apple juice, which reminds me—Aaron’s pediatrician is another call I need to add to the list,” she grumbled, clearly distracted once again. “Just to be on the safe side, I’d like for the doctor to check him over,” she added, still muttering to herself as she headed toward the door that led to her office. “That’s assuming that I can get an appointment.”
Charlotte simply shook her head and opened the refrigerator. The poor woman just couldn’t seem to get it all together this morning, she thought as she removed the bottle of apple juice.
Taking a glass out of the cabinet, Charlotte poured it full. Just as she put the bottle of juice back into the refrigerator, Marian rushed back in the kitchen.
“Oh, Charlotte,” she cried, her face flushed with excitement, her eyes bright. “I just had the most fantastic idea. I’ve been racking my brain, trying
