Trouble In Tourmaline. Jane Toombs
man who insisted everyone call him Grandfather.
She stopped in the utility room and told him to leave the case by the washer. “He’d had one of his dreams, by the way,” she said. “Something about two red-tailed hawks. You were one of them, apparently.”
Since Grandfather’s dreams often had some bearing on reality, David waited for her to go on. Instead, she switched subjects. “Now I’m going to take a shower, change and come sit on the front porch and watch you work.”
“The hawks?”
“I’m still thinking about that dream. When I have it figured out I’ll let you know.” She left him in the utility room.
David retraced his steps out the back door and around to the front again. He picked up the spade and set to work once more. He’d gotten more than half the plantings in when his aunt appeared on the porch with a pitcher of limeade and two glasses.
“Join me?” she invited.
After using the hose to wash some of the dirt off his bare skin, he donned his T-shirt and took a chair beside his aunt, who was sitting on the glider, moving gently back and forth. He reached for the drink she’d poured for him and swallowed half the contents of the tall glass.
“This is hand-squeezed limeade,” his aunt said. “You’re supposed to sip and savor the result of my efforts.”
“Too thirsty.” The words reminded him of his first sight of Amy. “By the way, someone came by yesterday to see you—I think she might have been a new patient. I told her you’d be back tomorrow.”
“All my regulars knew I was out of town,” Gert said.
David leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. Felt good to take a break. Like yesterday when he’d had lunch with Amy at Tiny Tim’s. He closed his eyes and there she was in her blue suit, the way he’d seen her that day…
“Penny for your thoughts,” Gert said. “They must be pleasant, since you’re smiling.”
Without opening his eyes he told a half-truth. “Just relaxed.”
Still thinking about yesterday, he was falling into a half doze when Gert exclaimed, “Why, look who’s here. You’ve come early.”
David’s eyes popped open and for a moment he thought he was having a vision straight out of his daydream. Amy was climbing the front steps to the porch. He stumbled to his feet, unable to believe his eyes.
“I know I wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, Dr. Severin,” Amy said. “I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you.” She didn’t look at him.
“Not a bit. I’m just glad I came home a day early,” Gert said. “Amy, this is my nephew, David Severin. David, Amy Simon, whom I told you would be coming to work with me.”
It all came back to him then. Dr. Simon, Gert had said, was finishing up her probationary year toward getting her license, in which she had to be under the supervision of a licensed psychologist or a board-certified psychiatrist. He’d remembered Dr. Simon was female, but he’d forgotten her first name. He’d assumed she’d be older. And definitely not a sexy blonde.
“Hello, Mr. Severin,” Amy said, those green eyes of hers as cold as the limeade he’d downed.
He swallowed and inclined his head. “Dr. Simon.”
“Heavens, such formality,” his aunt said, giving him an odd look. “I’m Gert, she’s Amy and you’re David.”
“Yes,” he muttered, “she’s Amy, all right.”
“And you’re David.” Amy’s voice was as frosty as her eyes.
Gert rose from the glider to look at one, then the other of them. “Such antipathy can only mean, I do believe, that you’ve met before. This does explain at least part of Grandfather’s dream about the male hawk and the female hawk.”
Recovering somewhat from the shock of discovering David was Dr. Severin’s nephew, Amy was confused anew by his aunt’s words. Gert had to be in her seventies and she had a grandfather? Good grief, how old would he be?
“I’m forgetting my manners,” Gert said to her. “As I mentioned when we had that brief meeting in Reno last month, you’ll stay with me until you find a place to live. Do come in and I’ll show you to your room.”
“Well, um, I’m at the Cottonwood Hotel at the moment.” The last place Amy wanted to stay was anywhere David might be living.
Apparently sensing this, Gert said, “David has his own apartment to the west of town so you don’t need to worry about putting him out. It’ll be handier for you here than at the hotel until you find a place of your own.”
Which was true. Especially if David planned to eat breakfast at the Cottonwood every morning. “It’s very kind of you, Dr.—”
“Didn’t I just say the name is Gert?”
Amy managed a smile, beginning to feel she was going to get along with her new employer. “Thanks, Gert.”
“This yardman better get back to work,” David said.
Amy slanted him a dirty look. Sure, rub it in, she thought, when you deliberately let me believe that’s what you were. She wondered why he didn’t explain himself right away.
“Amy may need some help transferring her things from the hotel,” Gert reminded David.
“No!” Amy cried. “That is, I mean I wouldn’t dream of bothering him when I’m perfectly capable of doing it on my own.”
Gert’s dark gaze assessed her. “I see I’m odd woman out at this rather peculiar interchange. Since I’m related to one of you and have invited the other to be my new associate, don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”
After a long moment of silence, David said, “She’s the one I thought might be a new patient of yours.”
Gert turned from him to Amy. “Apparently you didn’t tell him your name?”
“She said it was Amy,” David admitted. “I’d forgotten Dr. Simon’s first name, so I didn’t make the connection.”
“He told me he was David,” Amy confessed. “Since I had no other identification to go by, I’m afraid I thought he was your yardman.”
Gert’s chuckle turned into whoops of laughter.
Amy looked at David, who shrugged, but she thought she detected a quiver of a beginning smile. Maybe it was funny. Maybe she’d think so next year. Or the year after. She didn’t at the moment. He’d led her on, she was sure, once she’d mentioned she thought he worked for a landscaper. Come to think of it, hadn’t it been just after that he’d mentioned the wimpy rottweilers and wanting a beer?
So annoyed she couldn’t hold her tongue, she scowled at him and muttered, “I’ll bet you never did own a dog, let alone two.”
Raising her eyebrows, Gert said, “He does have a cat—and maybe even kittens by now.”
To Amy’s surprise, David grinned at her. “No dogs, and I admit I’m not really into beer, either. Truce. After all, you didn’t let on who you were, either.”
Now he was trying to charm her. She wasn’t going to fall for that, but, because she was to be his aunt’s associate, Amy squashed down her irritation. She didn’t have to like him, but, since he was Gert’s nephew, she should try to be courteous. “You have a cat?” she asked.
“You could say she picked me.”
“Kittens are imminent,” Gert added. “Now that we have the fuss momentarily settled, do come inside, Amy.”
After the two of them went into the house, David walked down the porch steps and picked up the shovel. Amy’s SUV was parked in front of his pickup at curbside