Daydream Retriever (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 10) Read online

  Pete moved to get up and whacked his elbow on one of the bed rails. “Ow. The construction crew is going to be here in fifteen minutes and you have to take me to physical therapy. I need to take a shower.”

  While Pete stumbled around gathering his clothes and crutches, Lisa clambered out of bed. She left his room and let Harley out for a brief excursion into the backyard. Once Harley returned, she ran upstairs to take her shower. Good thing she’d had such a great weekend, because this was obviously destined to be a rushed and annoying Monday.

  By the time she got out of the shower, the workmen had arrived. She dressed and ran downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal before she and Pete had to leave for Alpine Grove Care Center. Pete was going to be so incredibly late for his appointment.

  As she splashed some milk into her bowl of cornflakes, Craig came into the kitchen followed by Pete, who still looked disheveled and irritated, but cleaner. He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall, impatiently waiting for her to finish.

  Lisa was not in the mood to deal with Craig. He was the last person she wanted to see. “Hi, Craig. I can’t really talk right now. We’re really late.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that we need to order the paint, so we need your color choices. Also I wanted to alert you to the fact that we found some indication of water damage.”

  Lisa gulped down a mouthful of cereal. “Where? From what? My parents put a new roof on this place a couple of years ago. And my father is hysterical about pipes because of his early years as a plumber. Nothing ever leaks. Or it never has before.”

  “I’m not sure, but we’ll need to investigate. There could be dry rot, too.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  Craig settled into what Lisa thought of as his lecture stance. “Well, dry rot happens when…”

  “I’m sorry, but right now, I have to go. Do what you need to do.” Lisa put down her spoon, got up, and put her bowl in the sink. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours and you can explain it to me then.”

  “Sure thing, ma’am. See you later.”

  Lisa rounded up Harley and went with Pete out to the truck. His hair was wet, so it was going to be a cold ride for him this morning. Unlike Pete, Harley was enthusiastic about heading out.

  Once they were on the road, Lisa turned to Pete. “Are you all right? You look awfully pale.”

  “I’m angry at myself. I was in a hurry and I lost my balance. I whacked my bad leg, and probably put more weight on it than I should have. Tile is unforgiving. Gorgeous George, the physical terrorist, is going to have a fit. But I didn’t hit that hard and I had my brace on.”

  “Well, you’re obviously in pain.”

  “Maybe they’ll give me some extra-cool drugs. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Sorry, but I’m going to worry. I’ll drive faster.”

  When they got to the care center, Pete went on ahead while Lisa signed in. They were really late and George was probably not going to be happy. Lisa sat with Harley in the lobby and talked to some of the residents.

  Because she’d been to the facility so often, more and more people were starting to know Lisa and her exuberant yellow lab. She’d told and re-told Harley’s big rescue story countless times. Sometimes she told it to the same people, but that was okay, because even if they remembered hearing it before, they still loved it. Harley the hero dog ate up all the attention and praise for his exploits at Snow Grove.

  After she’d told Harley’s story yet again and the group of people had dispersed, Lisa decided it was time to visit Betty. Every time she came, she stopped by and tried to see if her aunt was going to give any clues to the whereabouts of the ever-so-elusive “stuff” that was supposedly somewhere in the house. Many bad jokes and random comments later, Lisa usually ended up annoyed and uninformed. The only good aspect of her visits was that like everyone else, Betty was a Harley fan. She said he was the “best dog in the whole wide world.” Thankfully, Harley didn’t seem to be letting all the accolades go to his head.

  Lisa walked down the long hallway and tapped on the door of her aunt’s room. Betty was sitting up in bed, holding what looked like an amorphous blob of yarn. Maybe she was crocheting.

  Lisa smiled. “Hi Betty. It’s me and Harley again.”

  “Linda! Where have you been?”

  “Still in Alpine Grove. I’m staying at my parents’ house, remember?”

  “Where’s my stuff?”

  “You haven’t told me where the stuff is, Betty.” Lisa watched as Harley put his head on the bed and Betty ran her fingers along his soft ears.

  Betty was silent, seeming to ponder the velvety smooth fur of the dog’s floppy ears. Lisa leaned closer. “Betty, where is the stuff? I’ve already sold a lot of the furniture. I’ve thrown away a lot of junk and donated some old toys. Once the weather is better, I’ll probably have to do a big garage sale.”

  “You’re selling the garage? It’s not that big.”

  “No, Betty, I’m clearing out all the old stuff from the house, so Mom and Dad can put the house back on the market this spring. They’re selling it, remember?”

  “They can’t sell my stuff!”

  “I won’t knowingly sell anything you want, but you have to tell me what the stuff is and where I can find it in the house.”

  Betty looked down at the yarn in her lap. “So I have a question for you. Why are men like diapers?”

  “No jokes, Betty. I mean it.” Lisa clutched Harley’s leash. She was getting nowhere with this conversation again.

  “Then give me my stuff.”

  Lisa wanted to scream. Saying the same thing repeatedly was making her insane and her patience had finally run out. She was already in a really bad mood, worrying about Pete. What if he had really hurt himself? No one should have to put up with this level of aggravation from their relatives, no matter how nutty they might be. “Listen Betty, I’m going to ask you one last time and then I’m not asking again. What is the stuff you want? Where is it?”

  Betty sat up straight and threw her yarn aside. “Don’t you talk to me in that tone of voice, young lady. I’ve probably told you fifty times now. It’s in the house.”

  Lisa practically shouted, “Where?”

  Harley sat down and looked up at Lisa.

  Betty shook her finger and pointed at the door. “Get out of my room, Linda. If you’re going to be rude and won’t listen to me, then get out.”

  Lisa gathered up Harley’s leash and stormed out without another word. She was so tired of this whole situation. Maybe Pete was finally done with physical therapy and they could get out of here. She stomped down the hall and peered into the therapy room, which was empty. The scary-looking stainless-steel equipment sat in metallic silence. Where had everybody gone? It wasn’t like Pete could run away. Or at least, not very quickly.

  Lisa walked around until she found a nurse, who told her that George and Pete had gone to get x-rays, but that they’d be back soon. And unwelcome barrage of possible medical complications marched into Lisa’s mind. What if Pete had hit his head on the tile in addition to his knee? He could have a brain hemorrhage and die. Lisa took a deep breath to will her brain to shut up. She slowly walked to a row of chairs outside of the physical therapy room and sat down to wait. Harley settled into a spot on the floor near her feet, looking sad. He occasionally lifted his head when she flipped a page of the ancient House and Garden magazine.

  By the time Pete returned, Lisa had exhausted her supply of antique periodicals and had made up several-hundred possible scenarios about Pete’s current physical condition and potential demise. She was staring into space, fretting and reliving the fight with her aunt, when Harley jumped up at the sight of his favorite human. Startled into action, Lisa readjusted her hold on the leash and let Harley drag her down the hall.

  Pete told Harley to sit and leaned over to pet him. “Hey, what’s the big deal?”

  “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”

  “I think I’ll liv
e, although the dream of partial weight-bearing activities has been pushed back another week. I think I need your ice-cream therapy, because I’m so incredibly frustrated right now I feel like throwing something or punching a hole in a wall. Since neither of those options will make me any friends around here, it’s probably better if you take me back to my man cave, so I can sulk for a while.”

  Lisa gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Let’s go home.”

  Lisa pulled into the driveway and was pleased to note that the workers’ trucks had left the premises. It had been a long day and she wasn’t in the mood to get yet another lecture from Craig.

  She let Harley out, got Pete’s crutches from the back, and they all trooped into the house.

  Pete started off toward the office, then stopped and pointed the end of a crutch toward the wall. “What happened there?”

  Lisa moved to stand next to him. “There’s no wall in my wall.”

  “Why’d they tear off all the drywall there?”

  “This morning, Craig said there might be water damage.”

  “Yeah, I heard him say that, but I’m not sure I buy it.” Pete looked up at the ceiling. “Water damage from what?”

  “I have no idea. And I don’t understand why they had to take apart the entire wall.”

  “You’ve got a nice view of the dining room now.”

  Lisa put her face in her palms. “I don’t want a view of the dining room.”

  “Maybe you can go for an open floor plan.”

  She dropped her hands. “You’re hilarious.”

  “They pulled out all the insulation too. I’m certainly not an expert, but I think there’d be stains on the wood if there were water damage.”

  “I don’t know. Craig said something about dry rot. I don’t know what that is. How can something rot if it’s dry? I didn’t want to deal with it this morning.”

  Pete held onto the wood and leaned over to examine it. “The framing looks fine.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “I think it would have cracks or look damaged in some way.” He whacked the board with his hand and the thump sounded satisfyingly solid. “This house wasn’t exactly built yesterday, but this wood doesn’t look much different than the brand-new lumber you’d see at a building supply store, as far as I can tell.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll find out more than I ever wanted to know about it tomorrow.” Lisa peered at the wood. She wouldn’t know dry rot if it bit her in the butt.

  “You really don’t like that guy Craig, do you?”

  “There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl. It’s completely irrational and I feel like a rotten human being for even saying that to you. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  He put an arm around her and pulled her close to him. “You look like a woman who needs some ice-cream therapy.”

  “I think you have an ulterior motive here, but I don’t care.” Lisa gave him a kiss. “Go elevate your leg and I’ll be right back.”

  Lisa turned and walked to the kitchen, noticing that holes had been cut in the drywall in the living room too. What was going on? Was the entire house about to fall down from this dry rot stuff? That would be a difficult conversation to have with her parents. She imagined Mom’s incredulous face as Lisa said, “Well, everyone told me not to tell you that I was remodeling the house, and oh, by the way, it needs to be demolished because all the wood is rotting away. Sorry!”

  She scooped the ice cream into bowls while Harley supervised. Pete didn’t seem to think the whole place was about to fall down, but did he know any more about construction than she did? She carried the bowls back into his room, where he was lying on his back with his arm over his eyes.

  “Hey, wake up. Your frozen goodies have arrived.”

  He moved his arm and took the bowl from her. “Thanks. I wasn’t asleep. Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Mostly feeling sorry for myself.” He took a bite of ice cream. “I’ll stop now.”

  “Here’s some good news: you’ve got the letter ‘x’ covered now. What did the x-rays show?” She held up her spoon. “Can you tell me something beyond the fact that you’re going to live?”

  “My klutzy tile incident didn’t manage to trash my knee. Everything is progressing, as they like to say. But they still want me to stick with the crutches for a few more days, just in case.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Except for the crutches. I want to get rid of them more than you can imagine. I’m so sick of thinking about it. Did you visit Betty?”

  “Briefly.” Lisa set down her spoon. “I yelled at her and stormed out. Now I feel terrible.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “I guess I was in a bad mood because I was worried about you and the house.” Lisa jabbed her spoon into the bowl and hacked off a big chunk of ice cream. “I know I was mean to her, but I was so frustrated I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

  “So she still didn’t tell you where the stuff is, I suppose?”

  “No, she yelled at me again that it’s in the house and then I…” Lisa looked at him incredulously. “Wait a second. What if that’s literally what she’s talking about?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you see all the holes in the walls? What if it’s not water damage? What if Craig was looking for something? Maybe Craig thinks something is in the house? Suppose Betty told him about it or he found out somehow.”

  “That’s bizarre, but it would explain why he was lying about the water damage.”

  Lisa set down her spoon. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I did say I didn’t think there was water damage.”

  “You didn’t say he was lying. You said the wood looked okay.”

  He pointed his spoon at her. “You tend to not believe me when I suggest you might be lying about what you’re feeling.”

  “I guess that’s true. I hate to admit it, but you’ve never been wrong. Never! Even when I’m lying to myself. I suppose you did say you look at my mouth, but how does that work? You must have been one heck of a police officer.”

  “I had my moments, but I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s partly because my brain isn’t wired like other people’s. Have you ever heard of synesthesia?”

  Lisa shook her head and took another bite of ice cream. What on earth was he talking about? Did he have some type of disease?

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not contagious. Synesthesia is a term for when your senses are mixed up. Some people hear sounds in response to a particular scent or feel something in response to what they see.”

  “How can you hear a smell? You smell a smell.”

  “Not necessarily. A person might see something a specific way, like numbers always appear in a certain color, so the number two is always green or threes are always blue.”

  “Do you see colored numbers?”

  “No. In my case, I see when someone is lying. There’s no way to really explain it, except that I know, the same way someone sees a number a certain color. It’s how it appears for me. When I was a little kid, I thought everyone could tell when people weren’t telling the truth.” He licked the spoon. “Needless to say, that caused some problems in school.”

  “The other kids must have hated you.”

  “I got beat up all the time until I learned to shut up. No one likes a tattletale.”

  “I had to have a long conversation with Cheryl’s second-grade teacher because Cheryl couldn’t keep a secret about anything. The whole class started calling her Stinky Finky. I felt bad for her and I love her, but honestly, she really was a blabbermouth.”

  “Well, you wanted to know how I knew Craig was lying. Now you do.” He set the empty bowl down in his lap. “I don’t usually tell people about this because it’s hard to explain and then they think I’m some kind of freak.”

  “I suppose, but the people you worked with must have loved it.”


  “Not as much as you might think. Criminals aren’t the only ones who lie.”

  “I guess not.”

  “It’s always been a mixed blessing. Knowing people aren’t speaking the truth isn’t necessarily pleasant. And I can tell you that some people lie as easily as they breathe.” He put his hand on hers. “I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me though, which is remarkable.”

  “I’ll stick to lying to myself. It’s a lot easier.” She interlaced her fingers with his. “As Aunt Betty would say, ‘Denial: it’s not just a river in Egypt.’”

  The next morning, Lisa extracted herself from Pete’s bed. Once he moved to using a cane, he would be able to more easily navigate stairs and they could sleep somewhere else. With a smile, she thought about the king-sized bed in the master bedroom. Pete was going to have to move out of the office eventually so the construction crew could begin work on it. She and Pete might as well be comfortable and switch to a larger bed.

  She let Harley out the kitchen door into the backyard and watched as he did his typical circuit, patrolling the area along the fence line. He picked up a stick that had been buried in the sloppy muddy snow and ran toward her, proud of his exciting new find. She threw the stick a few times for him and thought about Pete’s idea for the letter ‘w.’

  Mom had told her a story about how after one Christmas, Lisa’s nephew Leon had been so upset about taking down the Christmas tree and throwing it out that he launched into a tantrum, complete with lying on the floor, kicking and screaming. To hear Mom tell it, Leon put on quite a performance.

  In an effort to quiet the screaming child, Lisa’s dad had made a deal with Leon. If Leon let his grandpa remove the branches from the tree, the trunk would fit in the corner of the garage. The tree would be saved for posterity and Leon could visit it whenever he liked. Dad chopped up the tree per Leon’s instructions and peace was restored. The trunk was probably still sitting there in its corner, as it had been for years. Leon was now married and living in Hawaii, so he probably wouldn’t mind if Lisa appropriated part of his tree trunk for a good cause.