Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

hands together at his waist and gently nodded like a priest. “Mr. Jack was a good man.”

I wanted to think he was sincere, but something felt off. Or maybe it was the painkiller. I mentally shook myself and touched the note to call the doctor’s office about the pills. They might be skewing my thinking.

Josh continued. “Let me introduce my associates.” He opened his arms to include the two boys who had appeared with him.

"This is Justin. We call him the Tin Man." The short, lanky boy had narrow hips that barely held up his jeans. His straight blonde hair was parted in the middle and combed down over his ears with short pieces like bangs brushed to the sides. He moved up and glanced at Josh. As if he'd received permission, he stepped forward and shook my hand.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Then he moved back and stood behind Josh’s right shoulder.

The third young man seemed nervous about being left out so, he stepped up. “Hello, I’m Edward Ray.”

Josh shot him a look of disapproval, complete with narrowed eyes and a slight shake of his head. "Yes, he is the newest addition to our little group. We call him Toad."

"Toad?" The name escaped my lips in surprise. It wasn't an appropriate nickname for a boy with clear skin, curly dark brown hair, a bright grin, and deep dimples. I thought it was a more appropriate nickname for Josh whose body shape was square. It must be a teenage male dynamic to give the best looking one in the group an ugly name.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said proudly. “It’s a nickname.” Toad scurried back to his position behind Josh and Tin Man.

“That’s our posse,” Josh said, almost formally.  “We welcome you to the area. If there’s anything we can do to make your life easier...” He gestured to the crutches. “All you have to do is let me know. We can be helpful.” He gave me a smile that dripped with sugary sweetness.

The patio door banged open and Maria, my housekeeper, marched outside. “I think you should leave Miss Emma alone and leave,” she announced. “Now.”

“Of course. It was nice to meet you.” His words were polite, but his eyes were hard as he looked at the woman who had interrupted his visit.

“You might phone first before you just pop in,” I called out as Josh led the group away, hoping to draw some boundaries.

I barely caught what Maria mumbled under her breath. “Or don’t come at all.” I was about to quiz her when she launched into one of her monologues of run-on sentences.

“I was beginning to think someone had kidnapped you. I looked all over the Cottage, downstairs, of course, and even upstairs, not that you would go upstairs in the middle of the day, but one never knows what someone is going to do.”  She took a deep breath. “When I saw those boys here…” Her mouth tightened. “I wanted to grab a rolling pin and chase them away.” She caught my glance at her empty hands. “I didn’t know if you had one. Instead of wasting time looking for it, I figured I could …” Her mouth tenses. Then, with renewed energy, she went on, "I'm here because TJ warned me that the telephone company called him to say that the installer was coming today and that I should be here to let him in, so you weren't disturbed, in case you were napping on the sofa or something."

After my brain waded through all those words, I sat up in my chair in excited anticipation. “He’s coming to install the internet connection?”

"And the phone, yes," she added. "He drove up behind me."

Thrilled with the idea of being connected to the world again, I reached for my crutches. “At last.”

"Don't you trouble yourself. Leave the poor man to do his job because it's getting late. You want him to finish today." She looked down and shook her head decisively. “No, a job half-done is not a job finished.”

To me, her logic was baffling. With a little shake of my head, I said, “No, I should—”

“Stay right where you are. I’ll bring you a snack like they do in England. Oh, what do they call it…?” Her drone drifted away as she went inside.

I was almost afraid to move without Maria’s permission. A chilling thought crossed my mind: she might take away my crutches if I don’t behave. I leaned back in my chair and a smile grew on my face. This was turning into a Very Good Day. First, I made it to the P.T. appointment without hysteria and won the right to use both legs to walk. Progress. Definitely progress.

The visit to the library had turned up some fascinating research. Seeing the field fire—well, maybe that wasn't so good for the landowner, but I had to admit it was exciting. The memory of the lights and sirens and the reaction they triggered in me darkened my mood. But I reminded myself, I handled the flashback without too much trouble. And I had found myself a driver so I didn't have to rely so much on TJ, the mystery man. Also, Stephani showed promise as a researcher.

I put my hand on the growing stack of research materials and smiled. Yes, I was getting a lot of information. Then, like a trickle of cold water turns into a gushing torrent, a lack of confidence took over my being.

And what was I going to do with it all?

Chapter Eighteen

“The task of a writer consists of being able to make something out of an idea.”

— Thomas Mann

Now, what?