Amateur Hour

She kissed him, watched him drive away, and turned to the task at hand, completely bewildered and preoccupied. Lisa couldn’t remember the conversation she had with the painting foreman, but it must have been satisfactory, because she could see the men trotting in and out to fetch ladders, rollers, buckets, and all the other trappings of the trade.

The impulse to call someone was very strong. “The Phone-a-Friend option,” she muttered to herself. Gil hopped off the couch, and came to see her. Lisa had forgotten that she’d brought him back inside. “You’re ridiculous, and so am I,” she told him. After a few pats, Gill retrieved his toy and collapsed onto her left foot, to chew it. “What I should do, is take those stones to Amanda, and ask her what she thinks.” Lisa picked up her phone and made a selection from her contacts list.

“Did you butt dial me, or something?” Janice laughed, on the other end.

“I think butt dialing stopped being a thing, when touch screens came along,” Lisa retorted.

“Then, the asteroid must be heading for us, because I never thought I’d see the day you’d call me. What’s up, Sis?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“I have lots of minutes. Lay it on me, whatever it is.”

Lisa took a deep breath. “Tuck is under the delusion that he loves me,” she said.

“Ah…Are you equally delusional?”

“I believe I am.”

“So far, I’m not seeing a problem,” Janice laughed.

“I’m just not used to it, that’s all. I just wanted to have a silly conversation about it, with a friend.”

“And you picked the silliest friend you have. I’m touched.”

Lisa could hear Janice snickering, though she was trying to stifle it.

“It’s the best news ever,” Janice said, more seriously. “I’m so happy for you, even though I know it’s going to be a while before you relax enough to be happy for yourself. I just know you’re sitting there, probably at the kitchen table, with a big, deep frown on your face…”

“What makes you think that?” Lisa demanded, shocked into a laugh. Janice was right—that was exactly where she was sitting, and the precise expression on her face, too.

“If you had a nail studded chair, you’d be sitting in that. You’re a thinker. Dreamers sit in comfy chairs. Think about that.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a fortune cookie, written in crayon?”

“No, but I will remember that one. That’s not bad.”

A silence stretched out, between them.

“So, why do you suppose I can’t just feel happy?” Lisa asked, when she couldn’t stand it, any longer.

“Because you’re a thinker. Stop thinking. Let yourself just feel, once in a while. I promise, you won’t lose your ability to think, any more than you’d stay hammered, if you had a little too much alcohol. Though, I imagine Tucker can be a bit intoxicating, if he wants to be.”

“Yes, this is bad,” Amanda confirmed, looking at the remains of the stone statuettes. “Weren’t there three?”

“I’m surprised you remember. The third one is still in the old church. It’s fine—I looked at it, before I left to come here. Should I have done something to cleanse these?”

Amanda leaned back in her chair, still focused on the broken stones. “It might have helped, but… I’ve never personally seen anything like this. It’s almost as if there was a sudden increase in the negativity. Something that really made an impact. Is there anything going on with you, personally?”

“No. Things have been pretty good—or I thought they were. The Judge,” she caught herself, just in time, “seems at peace. He hasn’t been seen or heard from, in weeks. The bookstore is starting to come along, and I’ve been very pleased with that. We managed to find out, through some old records, who the boys were, under the Yankee Stone, and the Bishop of Tuck’s diocese has consecrated the grave. Deconsecration of the church is going to take a little longer, but progress is being made. Overall, my life is fine.”

“Your home is toxic, though.”

“Should I be afraid?”

Amanda shook her head. “No, I never advise anyone to fear. Malign spirits feed off fear. I do advise caution. I take it you plan to renovate the rectory, too.”

“I do, but I wanted to launch the business, first.”

“That makes sense,” Lady Amanda allowed. “But, maybe your unquiet spirits in the rectory have become jealous of your efforts on the behalf of the others. Until you can renovate, you might want to find and eliminate any physical traces of the tragedy in your home. It’s all about ties.”

Lisa felt sick, thinking about the stained linoleum. She was more certain than ever that these were blood stains, and she had been sleeping more or less on top of one of them, for months.

“You know of something,” Amanda observed, in a gentle tone.

“Stains. On the floor. They could be blood.”

“Listen to me, honey—whether they are or not, it’s not your fault. You didn’t put them there. You just want to get rid of them, as soon as you can. Now, I have some more black tourmaline, not as elegant as the statues you bought, but they’ll serve just as well. I want you to have them. Then, go to any grocery store, on your way home, and pick up a couple of boxes of salt. Any kind will do—it doesn’t have to be sea salt. Pour some, around your bed.”

“May I ask why?”

“When you’re asleep, you’re vulnerable to psychic attack, in the form of bad dreams, bad thoughts, and other things. It’s just a precaution.”

Tuck was by by turns worried and annoyed on Saturday afternoon, as he steered his Jeep toward Lisa’s home. He hadn’t heard from her, since the day of his declaration. The first day, and part of the second, he wrote this off as Lisa needing space. He was willing to let her process his words, but by the end of the day, he was starting to fret about her being angry with him. This morning he had awakened, ticked off at her.

Was she too much of a coward to tell him that she didn’t return his feelings, or too much of a coward to admit that she did? Tuck had never had any respect for people who ‘ghosted’ those whom they were afraid to confront.

Around noon today, it had begun to occur to him that something might be wrong. She could be sick, injured, or Gil could be consuming her remains, for all he knew.

The Jeep’s tires skidded slightly as he made a sharp turn into her driveway. Gil was in his yard. That was a good sign. But, it was evident that he had been there, for a while. His water bowl had been turned over, and Gil had dragged the pillow bed out of the shelter, and he was busily shredding it. Tuck watched him for a moment. The ripping had been going on, for some time, as evidenced by the balls and wisps of filling, all over the yard.

“I know just how you feel, buddy,” Tuck muttered. He got out of the Jeep and, ignoring Gil’s frenzied greetings, marched to the front door. He tried the knob. It was unlocked. That really wasn’t like Lisa.

He followed the sound of the blaring music, picking his way through displaced bedroom furniture. He found his quarry, tugging with a vengeance at a long strip of linoleum, about a foot in width. Tuck took in her startled glance, and stalked toward the boombox on the window sill. Unceremoniously, he yanked the power cord from the wall socket. Twisted Sister was chopped off in mid chorus.

“I was listening to that,” Lisa objected, panting.

“And now, you’re not. I guess you had that ancient linoleum tested, for asbestos.”

“I guess not.”

“Then, I reckon you’d better wait, to tear that up.”

“I reckon not. But, I’ll pick up some bona fide, Grade A, Number One dust masks, the next time I’m in the hardware store.” With that, Lisa resumed her tugging and wrenching.

Tuck crossed his arms, and leaned against a wall to watch her. Lisa’s hair had been subdued by a red bandanna, and she was covered in dust. There were perspiration spots beginning to come out under her arm pits, and a suggestion of sweat stains that had dried, before. There was something about her energy as she worked that Tuck didn’t like, at all. She seemed desperate—nearly frantic.

Finally, she paused and spoke, as he had known she would.

“Is there something I can do for you, Tucker? This isn’t a stage show.”

“Oh, where to begin? I guess you could start, by bringing your dog back inside. If shredded dog beds are any indication, I’d say he is getting a mite perturbed. How long has he been out?”

“Not long. And for your information, he started trashing the bed, yesterday. I left it out there, figuring it was better than nothing, until I get to the store. What else? Sounds like you have a list.”

“I would be delighted to know why I haven’t heard a single word from you, for three days.”

Lisa raised both eyebrows, and flung out a hand, indicating the chaos around her, as an answer.

Tuck mimicked picking up a phone. “Hey, Tuck—Listen, I’m going to be tied up for a while with a household project, but I’ll find time to talk to you, soon.”

“I would point out that you don’t explain your every move to me, before you make it.”

“I thought you understood that!” Tuck exclaimed, taken aback.

“I do, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I’m not saying that you owe me explanations. I’m saying that I don’t owe you explanations, either.”

“I did explain. Yes, it was after the fact, but I did explain. Because I thought I owed it to you. Because I love you, and you’re a part of my life. Are you so scared of that, that you had to invent this?” It was his turn to wave a hand around the room.

“No. This just needs to be done.”

“Now?”

“Right now, yes. Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Tuck abandoned the wall he was holding up, and approached her, pulling something out of his top jacket pocket. “Curtain is at 7:30. Toni and Will would really like for you to be there, tonight.” He handed her the ticket.

Before she could answer, he turned and stalked out.

Lisa packed it in, at least temporarily, at 5 pm. The room was three quarters finished. The part of the linoleum that had carried the actual stain was gone, and that made her feel better. It was one of those strips that she had been struggling with, when Tuck had appeared.

“You look mad as a hatter,” she informed her reflection in the bathroom mirror, before stepping into the shower. She was sure Tuck must have thought she was out of her mind, and maybe she was.

She scrubbed from head to toe, and hoped her hair would be dry, on time. Lisa hated to use a blow dryer. It took nearly twenty minutes to find and put together an acceptable outfit. Her folded clothes had all been shifted to the hallway, in dresser drawers that had had to be removed, so that she could get the dresser out of the room. The ones on hangers were in the closet of the front bedroom.

She opted for a denim skirt, the shirt Toni had given her, and Will’s scarf and pin. It all looked good, she thought, reapplying her lipstick. She just hoped it wouldn’t be corny.

She arrived at the theater with fifteen minutes to spare. The lobby was still full of people, but some were drifting through the doors to find their seats. Several had also chosen a Western motif, with their clothing, and that was a relief.

The usher at the door, a high school cheerleader type, looked at her ticket, and gave her smiling directions. Lisa found Tuck in the aisle seat, but he slid over, to let her have it.

“You look very pretty,” he observed.

“Cleaner than you expected?” She raised an eyebrow.

Tuck just shook his head, and opened his program.

“I’m sorry,” Lisa sighed. “I meant, ‘thank you’.”

Tuck reached into a small paper bag, and pulled out a couple of pieces of hard candy. He offered her one, without looking at her and she took it.

“Those colors are nice, on you,” he said, still gazing at his program.

Lisa laughed. “They’re nice on you, too.” Sure enough, Tuck’s bib shirt was exactly the same color as hers, and trimmed in light grey, with grey pearly snaps. “What made you decide on that shirt?” she asked, popping the candy into her mouth. It was butter rum flavored.

“Oh, Toni dresses me, for anything she deems an important occasion. She picked the shirt.” He glanced at her, wearing a little smile.

She sensed that he was beginning to thaw.

“Could we talk, after the show?” she asked.

“Of course.” Tuck set aside his program, and took her hand. “We won’t see much of the kids, afterward. There’s a small cast party, after a meet and greet. We’ll grab something to eat.”

The play was a smash, of course. “That’s because everything that could go wrong did, at dress rehearsal,” Will observed.

They were all standing in the lobby, and the cast was mingling with the patrons—an opening night tradition for the theater company.

“Which is to say that Will fell on his ass again, and I drew a complete blank, midway through the second scene,” Toni laughed.

Both of them looked slightly clownish, still in their heavy stage makeup. Lisa had to fight the urge to stare at Will’s eyebrows, in particular, which had been penciled a dark black, to match his wig.

“I can’t wait to get all of this stuff off,” he grumbled, scratching at the wig, trying not to be too obvious.

“At least I got to take off the heels,” Toni groaned.

“They’re your own shoes,” Will pointed out.

“Shut up, Will.”

“You were both amazing,” Lisa said, meaning it. “It was clever to have Will play the Aggie Boy, without the wig. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“You sang like an angel, honey,” Tuck beamed at his daughter. “Lisa misted up, when you sang Hard Candy Christmas.”

“No, that was you,” Lisa contradicted. “Okay, maybe it was both of us,” she admitted after a beat.

“Ugh,” Will grunted. “The Maestro summons.”

Lisa glanced over to see a prematurely balding man in a grey suit, waving in their direction.

“Don’t worry, Dad; we won’t wait up, for you. Lisa, I knew you’d look great in those.” Toni gave each of them a light peck on the cheek, and rushed off, in Will’s wake.

“Just to clarify, Toni picked out your shirt and scarf, but Will selected the pin. I was with him. Are we taking both cars?” Tuck asked, steering her toward the door, with a light hand in the small of her back.

“There’s no sense in your driving me back here, to pick up my car. Where are we meeting up?”

“Ken’s? It doesn’t get crowded on Saturday evenings, until the bars close, anyway.”

Lisa was relieved by his choice of restaurants. She had dressed for Toni and Will, but she wasn’t really in the mood for anything too fancy.

“See you there.”

She never actually lost sight of him. Traffic was fairly light, this evening, and she was able to follow directly behind him, the whole way. Not that she needed to— she had become a regular at Ken’s in her own right.

“Now,” Tuck said, when the server had taken their orders, “talk to me.”

Lisa hesitated, then sighed. “They’re back,” she said.

It too Tuck a couple of seconds to realize who “they” were. “So, you’re risking lung damage, among other things, tearing up the floor.”

“It’s the stains.”

“On the linoleum? You think they’re bloodstains, or something?”

“Please keep your voice down.”

“My voice is down. Is that what you think?”

“I know they are.”

Tuck looked concerned, but there was a hint of relief in his manner, too.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” he scowled, leaning against the back of the booth. “You had me thinking all kinds of awful shit.”

“I didn’t want to drag you into it. I won’t, if I can help it.”

“You… don’t get how this whole relationship thing works, do you?” he asked, eyeing her over his water glass.

“I do. I get it. I also get that too much…drama is a thing that kills relationships. I got dragged into someone else’s drama, once. I hated it.”

“I think we have different definitions of drama. You’re not creating any of this, Lisa.”

“I mean to squelch it,” she growled.

“Where do you plan to sleep, tonight? Your bed is leaning against a wall.”

“Same place I slept, last night. Motel Hell, out by the highway. They’re the cheapest place that allows dogs.”

Tuck knew the place. It was a small, rundown motor court, with ground floor rooms. There were great gaps under all of the doors, and a never drying puddle under the ancient ice machine. It was a popular haunt for drug dealers and other dregs.

The thought of Lisa sleeping there, even with Gil, made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He managed to hold his peace, and smile at the waitress, when she brought their breakfast-for-dinner meal to the table.

“You can’t stay there,” he told Lisa, dropping the smile.

“I’m not staying there; I’m sleeping there.”

“That’s supposed to be reassuring? It’s a distinction without a difference. You know damn well that you’re welcome at my house.”

“I know that, and I thank you, but—“

“Let me put it a different way. That place is not safe. I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to stay there.” Lisa would have spoken, but he forestalled her, with a raised hand. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll leave you alone to tear up your floor, if you’ll get some proper protective gear, and sleep at my place.”

“I don’t see how you could stop me, regardless!”

“I can call the EPA. At best, you’ll be fined. At worst, you might go to jail. Do you think you’d look good, in orange? Few people do.” He cut into his breakfast steak, and forked up a bite, watching her fume.

“Blackmail. Really?”

Tuck nodded, still chewing. “Your eggs are getting cold,” he observed, once he had swallowed. “Gil’s waiting for you, at the motel?”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave him alone, with the house turned upside down and possibly-toxic flooring strips lying around that he might chew on. I may be impulsive, but I’m not a monster.”

“I would never even hint that you are a monster,” he said, meeting her eyes squarely. “But, I will agree to ‘impulsive’. Darlin’ those stains and that floor have been there, for decades. What set you off?”

Lisa picked at her eggs, and filled him in on what had happened to the stone figures, and her subsequent conversation with Lady Amanda. “Everything was more or less normal, when I went to bed, that night. But, when I woke up, the new stone next to my bed was pulverized. Not just cracked— broken into a tiny pile of rubble. Not only had I slept through that, but it was also noon. It took a whole pot of strong coffee, to get me to a level of function where I felt safe to drive.”

“Were both stones…?”

Lisa nodded, and took a small bite of her toast. “You see why I can’t sleep there, right now. And, I’m getting so little done, at a time, Tuck. I start in, feeling strong and rested, but it’s like I’m being sapped by more than the work. I don’t dare sit still, to rest, either. I tried that, the first day, and I fell asleep on the sofa, still sitting up. Had a hellish headache, when I woke up. I’ve never been nauseated by a headache, before.”

“Where do you take your breaks?”

“In the sanctuary. It’s safe, there. If I didn’t think I’d freeze, I’d put my airbed in there. It’s also where I’ve been leaving Gil, in between walks and play time in his pen. It’s out of the wind, and the sun warms up some spots, coming through the windows.”

“Why would this happen now, I wonder? Eat, Lisa. You’ve got to be starving.”

“Not really. I haven’t been hungry, in days,” she commented, pushing away her plate. “But, I never waste bacon,” she offered him a little smile, as she picked up a strip and bit it.

“We’ll hit one of the chain hardware stores, tomorrow, for the stuff we’ll need, to finish the job.”

“No. No—this is my mess. I’ll work on it alone, or not at all. You run the risk of being stuck with me, as a perpetual house guest.”

“I think we could cope. I say, move into my house, concentrate on opening your store, and demolish the rectory. You could expand your parking.”

“Or, I could move into the fellowship hall. Knock down the wall between the men’s and women’s room; add a shower stall… It already has cooking facilities. Then, I could demolish the rectory, and expand my parking.”

Lisa pulled her plate toward her, and applied herself to her breakfast-any-time. Tuck didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. He supposed that, with Lisa, there was nothing like a new idea, to get the appetite going again. He decided to let her have her idea, if it cheered her, some.

Besides, as ideas went, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever heard. If she was sufficiently distracted by it, she might just leave the rectory to rot, until it was torn down. It would take time for her to line up a contractor to do the work she was describing, in the fellowship hall. In the meantime, she would be staying with him and his family.

“You’re looking at me like a man thinking about adopting a stray cat,” Lisa remarked, gazing at him with narrowed eyes over her juice glass.

“You’re paranoid,” he deflected, coloring.

“Situationally aware.” She swallowed the last of her juice, and applied her napkin to her lips.

“Ready to go?”

Gil was delighted to see them both. He refrained from jumping up on his mistress, but seemed to think Tuck was fair game.

“You’d think he’s been alone, for a week,” Lisa scowled.

“Gil—down!” she commanded, for all the good it did.

“Dogs don’t have an accurate concept of time. Let him be. I’ll keep him occupied, while you gather up the rest of your stuff.” The room was a double, and it was clear that Lisa had been living out of the suitcase that lay open, on the other bed. He doubted that she’d had her current outfit packed, though.

“I’d like to change, if that’s all right.”

“Go right ahead. Shame, though.” He gave her a grinning, appreciative look.

“I can’t stand these shoes, any more,” she confessed.

Tuck watched her take them off. They weren’t in the same camp as Toni’s red stilettos, but they did have a bit of a heel.

“Throw on your sneakers,” he suggested. “Save you some time.”

To his surprise, she took his suggestion, then made quick work of gathering up the loose items floating around the dingy room.