Bridges - Chapter 2
Bridges
Chapter 2
By Lori Finnegan
2013
Aunt Carol had warned Lira about the man who had bought old Victorian house that had caused such an uproar in their group. She said he was young, and handsome too. He had black, blue eyes, and no matter how handsome he was, she was convinced that the devil himself had moved in.
Lira wasn't exactly sure of devils, but it sure was making her life hell. She had never seen her aunts so upset. Their letter writing campaigns were endless, and not only that, but they were coming up with manipulative and scheming ways to disrupt the peace. It was a little disturbing.
Meanwhile, she and Rachel had a practice session of their new song at Rachel's house that Saturday afternoon. Well, actually, it was Rachel's parents' house. Her parents were a little on the filthy loaded side and they had built a complete sound studio just for Rachel in their giant basement. So even though Rachel was now twenty-five and moved out on her own, she still came home to borrow Mommy and Daddy's expensive things.
Lira said hello to Rachel's dad and then traveled down the stairs to their basement. The sound studio's door still had a sign from high school that said, 'Rachel's Room. Do not enter.' Lira rolled her eyes like she did every time she saw it, and then tapped on the door.
It opened a crack as her signal to enter, so she did. Rachel was sitting at the sound board with her notes spread out in front of her, seemingly studying them intently. Lira's entrance didn't seem to disturb her in the least.
Lira cleared her throat. “Are you ready to start? Or are you preparing for the boards?”
Rachel suddenly looked up at her, her eyes narrowed. “Of course I'm ready! Don't I look ready? You should be asking yourself that question. Do you know the lyrics, Lira?”
“Did you drink enough coffee, Rachel?” Lira said and tried to laugh. Or take enough speed?
She shuffled her pages together. “Three cups, why?”
Lira laughed and pried the pages from her hands. “Well, take some breaths. This is just a song. We're not submitting it to the Grammy's.” She caught a glimpse of the look in Rachel's eyes, and there was something there that Lira hadn't seen before. Was she worried about something? Was it a look of panic? “Sit down and chill,” she told her friend. “What could possibly be bothering you about this song?”
Rachel sat down again and was quiet for a few moments. She was staring at the soundboard until she took in a breath and then looked up at Lira. “Okay, don't hate me, but there is a little something that is bothering me over this song.”
Lira sat down in the seat beside her. “What is it?”
“Well, the song... I know we planned that you would sing lead, and I would sing backup, but... and I really feel strongly about this, so please hear me out!” Rachel's expression looked so sincere. “But these lyrics speak so strongly to me. Like, I can just feel them all the way to my soul. I feel like I need to sing lead on this song. Do you understand my problem?”
Lira didn't quite know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind. “But you sing lead on every other song.”
“I know that, and that's why I hesitated mentioning it.” Rachel looked very pained. Like it hurt her to talk about it. “I'm so sorry, Lira.”
Lira sat quiet. She wasn't sure if Rachel was apologizing because she was truly sorry, or if she wanted Lira to forget about it so they could move forward and practice the song. Lira had known Rachel for a long time. They had gone to preschool together, grade school together, and high school together. They hadn't exactly been friends during those years... but when Lira came back from college she had found Rachel to be a slightly different girl. Rachel had been left behind by several of her popular friends for big city life and things were looking a little lonely for her. She was more than happy to gain a new friend in Lira.
At that very moment, Lira wished she could look upon that event with the same happiness.
“Explain to me...” Lira said once she had found her voice. “Exactly what it is that touches you about the song. I want to understand why it's so special to you.”
There was a flash in Rachel's eyes. She clearly understood that it was a challenge. “Give me a moment to collect my thoughts.” She slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a full thirty seconds later before she spoke again. “It speaks of a field and rain on a summer's day. You have to understand, that the imagery in the first verse reminds me of my childhood days on my grandpa's farm.” When she opened her eyes, she had actually worked up a tear or two.
Lira couldn't believe it. “Oh, great. Then you can take the first verse, and I'll take the second.”
Rachel closed her eyes again. “The second verse goes into a time of a sadness and loss, and missing someone so badly that you can't stand it.” She opened her eyes again. “You must know that I think of my ex-boyfriend Curt when I sing it. It comes straight from the heart.”
And what exactly was Lira supposed to say to that? No, Rachel, I'll sing that verse even though you relate to it on a personal level. She would sound like a complete bitch. “Okay, fine. We'll find another song for me to sing lead on.”
Rachel smiled and wiped her tears. It didn't even look like she had cried at all, she had recovered so quickly. “You're the best, Lira.”
*****
After a long weekend weekend pulling out weeds in his backyard, and trying to find a store nearby that sells paint so he could fix up the fence that went around the perimeter of his property, Jarred was sore and exhausted by Monday morning.
He was brewing some coffee and flipping open his laptop lid on the ancient table left by the previous owners in the dining room, when there was a knock at the door. He left the dining room and made his way to the front of the house where he paused, remembering the last time he opened the door to unwanted company.
This time he peered through the eye hole.
Standing on his doorstep were two men. They were wearing dark t-shirts. One was balding, and the other wore a baseball cap. They were both wearing faded jeans. They definitely didn't belong to the old biddy's historical club. Jarred decided to open the door.
“Good morning, sir,” the bald man said and stuck out his hand for Jarred to shake. “I'm Bobby, and this is Skip. It's come to my attention that you're the new owner of this fine house.”
“Er, yes...” Jarred was already shaking hand and had to pull it away. “Just last week. And now it's Saturday.” He felt the need to point that out.
“Well, we wanted to come by and offer you our services,” Bobby went on. “You see, we're the Cleveland, Minnesota Paranormal Society.”
Jarred felt as though he wanted to groan.
“I don't know if you're aware.” Bobby handed him a flier with their name on it. “But your house has had many rumors of being haunted throughout the years. We were wondering if perhaps you'd be willing to allow our group onto your premises to conduct an investigation.”
Jarred was looking down at the flier. It boasted claims of the paranormal and listed tools that the group used such as EVPs. When he flipped it open there were photographs of these 'ghosts' that the group claimed to have witnessed. He looked back up at them with a straight face.
“Free of charge, of course,” Bobby added.
“No thanks,” Jarred said.
“Is it because you haven't experienced any strange events in the house yet? Well, we could put your mind at ease and exorcise all spirits before anything happens. Or if you have felt anything odd, we could tell you about them.”
Jarred didn't know what to say at this point. He sort of felt like he was in some sort of Hollywood script, yet... he was far away from California. “Sorry, guys, but I'm just not interested. How about I hang onto your number just in case anything comes up?”
Both guys were smiling at him now. “Okay,” Bobby said, though he looked reluctant to leave. “But promise you will as soon anything strange happens! Really bad things have happened here in the past, and the spirits that may be in this place may not be friendly ones. Consider that a warning.”
“Um... okay.” Jarred closed the door and then watched them walk to their car at the curb. It almost sounded like they were threatening him. Why were they so interested in getting into his house? Ghosts, could that really be the reason? It seemed ridiculous to him.
After they drove away he set the brochure on the table and looked around the room. It was old. The wallpaper was peeling and the woodwork looked all original. There was an old chandelier hanging from the ceiling that didn't even take electricity. The previous owner hadn't taken several pieces of furniture, including a sofa and a chair, but they were worn and ragged and looked like they were from the fifties. The rest of the house looked much older.
It only reminded him that he would have to make some phone calls and get the place fixed up soon. It also reminded him about the friends he had left behind, the ones that would have been so willing to come over and help him with projects like those... if things had been different, anyway.
****
“First order of business,” Aunt Carol said from the end of the table. She had a donut and a cup of coffee in front of her, untouched. “The old Victorian house on the counter of First and Washington. Does anyone have any news?”
Dana raised her hand. “My sister lives on the block across the street and she saw the owner bringing in buckets of paint yesterday.”
Aunt Carol's eyes widened. Lira thought she saw a blood vessel pop in her forehead. “Paint! What could he possibly be painting in there? I hope it's not the wood!” There was a long pause where it was obvious she was thinking very hard. “New plan,” she said suddenly. “We have to get someone in that house to make sure he's not ruining it. Someone has to volunteer to go inside.”
No one raised their hand.
“That's trespassing,” Aunt Ida said.
“We won't break in, of course!” Aunt Carol told her. “One of us will charm our way in. Now who can that be...” Her gaze fell on Lira.
“Oh no, Aunt Carol. Count me out!” Lira threw her hands up in the air, almost knocking over her coffee mug. “What could I do to charm him?”
Several of the ladies giggled.
“You can't be serious, Lira.” Aunt Carol fingered Lira's strawberry blonde hair. It was so soft, it easily fell through her fingers. “He'll take one look at you and let you in.”
“Are you offering me up as bait?” Lira asked. “I'm your niece!”
Aunt Carol frowned at her. “Honestly, Lira, this is for the greater good. Don't you want to save the house just as much as we do?”
Lira could argue that point, but she didn't necessarily want to argue it in front of her aunt. “I guess,” she said and folded her arms over her chest. “I suppose he doesn't look dangerous.”
“Of course not!” Aunt Carol said, and the other ladies nodded eagerly in agreement. “He's very handsome. How could he be dangerous?”
Lira knew this was a fallacy. Handsome men were just as dangerous as ugly men, but she held her tongue. She didn't know what their plans were for how she was supposed to get into the house, but she kinda dreaded it. “You know, Aunt Carol,” she said before any of them could say another word. “I think I'll figure out my own way to approach him if you don't mind.”
“I trust you, Lira.” Aunt Carol nodded her head and finally took a bite of her donut. Her stomach seemed to have calmed down now that they had a plan of action. “Just don't take too terribly long. You never know where he's slapping around that paint in there.”
Lira sipped at her coffee. She had a lot of thinking to do. She usually wasn't forceful when it came to men, especially men she didn't know. Maybe she would ask Rachel's advice. Rachel seemed to have better luck in that area. At least at first, anyway.
*****
Lira arranged to meet Rachel for dinner that night in Mankato where they could grab something light and then maybe have a drink if they felt like it. Because the dinner choices in Cleveland were just a little pathetic, to be honest. They ended up at bar and grill downtown that served good appetizers and drinks.
Rachel was looking at the menu carefully. “Ooo, look at all these martinis.” She put the drink menu down so Lira could see and then pointed to one in the middle. “Look, blueberry! I think I'll get that one.”
“Sounds good.” Lira smiled.
The waitress came by and took their order. Once she had left, Lira spent a few minutes trying to decide how she was going to bring up the topic when she decided to just go for it. “Okay, Rachel, I have a strange question to ask you.”
“What is it?” Rachel's eyes were wide.
“I need your advice on something.”
Her eyes softened and a small smile smile came to her lips. “Yes?”
Lira began tearing the napkin around her water glass. “You know that I'm sort of involved in the Historical Society that my aunts are in?”
Rachel's face fell a little. No doubt she thought this was a boring subject. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I probably heard about that at some point.”
“Well, they're extremely interested in that old Victorian house on the corner of First and Washington,” Lira continued on, ignoring her friend. “Turns out some guy recently bought it off the market. Well, my aunts have nominated me to somehow get to know him and get into the house to make sure he's not doing any structural damage to the house.”
At this point, the waitress came with their drinks, setting Rachel's martini in front of her, completely distracting her from Lira's quest.
Rachel smiled at it and immediately picked it up and raised it to her lips. “Yum! Oh, it's so good! Lira, you have to taste it!”
Lira had stuck with a cherry coke herself, deciding to keep her mind clear for this conversation. “No thanks.” she said. “Listen, Rachel, I need your help on this thing.”
“Okay, okay! I'm listening!” Rachel set down her drink and looked right at Lira.
“So,” Lira said and took a breath. “I need to get in this guy's good graces and ultimately into his house. That's what I need your help with. You know I'm not the best with...”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Men?”
Lira frowned. She was going to say that she wouldn't have put it that way, but she had in fact said most of the sentence herself. “Let's just say you're better than I am with this sort of thing.”
Rachel grinned. “Well, this is definitely something I can help with. I'm so glad you asked me!” She suddenly paused and frowned. “Wait a second. He's not some old, ugly guy, is he? Because I don't know if I can' condone that.”
“I haven't exactly seen him myself, but my aunt assures me that he's young and handsome.” Lira took a sip of her pop.
“Hmm. Your fifty year old aunt says he's handsome. We may need to confirm this first.” Rachel clapped her hands together. “No problem! I have some binoculars at my mom's house from when I took a birdwatching class in high school.”
Lira wrinkled her nose. “Birdwatching? How come I never heard about that class?”
Rachel sipped at her martini and looked it away. “It existed. Never mind though. We'll get to the bottom of this. My mom is friends with the pastor of the church across the street. We'll camp out until we find out what he looks like. Then we'll make a plan and make our move.”
“Are you sure the pastor will be okay with that?” This was sounding downright shady.
“Pfft...” Rachel's martini was half gone. “He won't even know. My mom can get the keys from him. She's in the choir. We'll do it when no one's there. Don't worry!”
Lira nervously sipped at her coke. She sure hoped that asking Rachel for help would be the right decision.
Chapter 3
Bridges Index
Chapter 2
By Lori Finnegan
2013
Aunt Carol had warned Lira about the man who had bought old Victorian house that had caused such an uproar in their group. She said he was young, and handsome too. He had black, blue eyes, and no matter how handsome he was, she was convinced that the devil himself had moved in.
Lira wasn't exactly sure of devils, but it sure was making her life hell. She had never seen her aunts so upset. Their letter writing campaigns were endless, and not only that, but they were coming up with manipulative and scheming ways to disrupt the peace. It was a little disturbing.
Meanwhile, she and Rachel had a practice session of their new song at Rachel's house that Saturday afternoon. Well, actually, it was Rachel's parents' house. Her parents were a little on the filthy loaded side and they had built a complete sound studio just for Rachel in their giant basement. So even though Rachel was now twenty-five and moved out on her own, she still came home to borrow Mommy and Daddy's expensive things.
Lira said hello to Rachel's dad and then traveled down the stairs to their basement. The sound studio's door still had a sign from high school that said, 'Rachel's Room. Do not enter.' Lira rolled her eyes like she did every time she saw it, and then tapped on the door.
It opened a crack as her signal to enter, so she did. Rachel was sitting at the sound board with her notes spread out in front of her, seemingly studying them intently. Lira's entrance didn't seem to disturb her in the least.
Lira cleared her throat. “Are you ready to start? Or are you preparing for the boards?”
Rachel suddenly looked up at her, her eyes narrowed. “Of course I'm ready! Don't I look ready? You should be asking yourself that question. Do you know the lyrics, Lira?”
“Did you drink enough coffee, Rachel?” Lira said and tried to laugh. Or take enough speed?
She shuffled her pages together. “Three cups, why?”
Lira laughed and pried the pages from her hands. “Well, take some breaths. This is just a song. We're not submitting it to the Grammy's.” She caught a glimpse of the look in Rachel's eyes, and there was something there that Lira hadn't seen before. Was she worried about something? Was it a look of panic? “Sit down and chill,” she told her friend. “What could possibly be bothering you about this song?”
Rachel sat down again and was quiet for a few moments. She was staring at the soundboard until she took in a breath and then looked up at Lira. “Okay, don't hate me, but there is a little something that is bothering me over this song.”
Lira sat down in the seat beside her. “What is it?”
“Well, the song... I know we planned that you would sing lead, and I would sing backup, but... and I really feel strongly about this, so please hear me out!” Rachel's expression looked so sincere. “But these lyrics speak so strongly to me. Like, I can just feel them all the way to my soul. I feel like I need to sing lead on this song. Do you understand my problem?”
Lira didn't quite know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind. “But you sing lead on every other song.”
“I know that, and that's why I hesitated mentioning it.” Rachel looked very pained. Like it hurt her to talk about it. “I'm so sorry, Lira.”
Lira sat quiet. She wasn't sure if Rachel was apologizing because she was truly sorry, or if she wanted Lira to forget about it so they could move forward and practice the song. Lira had known Rachel for a long time. They had gone to preschool together, grade school together, and high school together. They hadn't exactly been friends during those years... but when Lira came back from college she had found Rachel to be a slightly different girl. Rachel had been left behind by several of her popular friends for big city life and things were looking a little lonely for her. She was more than happy to gain a new friend in Lira.
At that very moment, Lira wished she could look upon that event with the same happiness.
“Explain to me...” Lira said once she had found her voice. “Exactly what it is that touches you about the song. I want to understand why it's so special to you.”
There was a flash in Rachel's eyes. She clearly understood that it was a challenge. “Give me a moment to collect my thoughts.” She slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a full thirty seconds later before she spoke again. “It speaks of a field and rain on a summer's day. You have to understand, that the imagery in the first verse reminds me of my childhood days on my grandpa's farm.” When she opened her eyes, she had actually worked up a tear or two.
Lira couldn't believe it. “Oh, great. Then you can take the first verse, and I'll take the second.”
Rachel closed her eyes again. “The second verse goes into a time of a sadness and loss, and missing someone so badly that you can't stand it.” She opened her eyes again. “You must know that I think of my ex-boyfriend Curt when I sing it. It comes straight from the heart.”
And what exactly was Lira supposed to say to that? No, Rachel, I'll sing that verse even though you relate to it on a personal level. She would sound like a complete bitch. “Okay, fine. We'll find another song for me to sing lead on.”
Rachel smiled and wiped her tears. It didn't even look like she had cried at all, she had recovered so quickly. “You're the best, Lira.”
*****
After a long weekend weekend pulling out weeds in his backyard, and trying to find a store nearby that sells paint so he could fix up the fence that went around the perimeter of his property, Jarred was sore and exhausted by Monday morning.
He was brewing some coffee and flipping open his laptop lid on the ancient table left by the previous owners in the dining room, when there was a knock at the door. He left the dining room and made his way to the front of the house where he paused, remembering the last time he opened the door to unwanted company.
This time he peered through the eye hole.
Standing on his doorstep were two men. They were wearing dark t-shirts. One was balding, and the other wore a baseball cap. They were both wearing faded jeans. They definitely didn't belong to the old biddy's historical club. Jarred decided to open the door.
“Good morning, sir,” the bald man said and stuck out his hand for Jarred to shake. “I'm Bobby, and this is Skip. It's come to my attention that you're the new owner of this fine house.”
“Er, yes...” Jarred was already shaking hand and had to pull it away. “Just last week. And now it's Saturday.” He felt the need to point that out.
“Well, we wanted to come by and offer you our services,” Bobby went on. “You see, we're the Cleveland, Minnesota Paranormal Society.”
Jarred felt as though he wanted to groan.
“I don't know if you're aware.” Bobby handed him a flier with their name on it. “But your house has had many rumors of being haunted throughout the years. We were wondering if perhaps you'd be willing to allow our group onto your premises to conduct an investigation.”
Jarred was looking down at the flier. It boasted claims of the paranormal and listed tools that the group used such as EVPs. When he flipped it open there were photographs of these 'ghosts' that the group claimed to have witnessed. He looked back up at them with a straight face.
“Free of charge, of course,” Bobby added.
“No thanks,” Jarred said.
“Is it because you haven't experienced any strange events in the house yet? Well, we could put your mind at ease and exorcise all spirits before anything happens. Or if you have felt anything odd, we could tell you about them.”
Jarred didn't know what to say at this point. He sort of felt like he was in some sort of Hollywood script, yet... he was far away from California. “Sorry, guys, but I'm just not interested. How about I hang onto your number just in case anything comes up?”
Both guys were smiling at him now. “Okay,” Bobby said, though he looked reluctant to leave. “But promise you will as soon anything strange happens! Really bad things have happened here in the past, and the spirits that may be in this place may not be friendly ones. Consider that a warning.”
“Um... okay.” Jarred closed the door and then watched them walk to their car at the curb. It almost sounded like they were threatening him. Why were they so interested in getting into his house? Ghosts, could that really be the reason? It seemed ridiculous to him.
After they drove away he set the brochure on the table and looked around the room. It was old. The wallpaper was peeling and the woodwork looked all original. There was an old chandelier hanging from the ceiling that didn't even take electricity. The previous owner hadn't taken several pieces of furniture, including a sofa and a chair, but they were worn and ragged and looked like they were from the fifties. The rest of the house looked much older.
It only reminded him that he would have to make some phone calls and get the place fixed up soon. It also reminded him about the friends he had left behind, the ones that would have been so willing to come over and help him with projects like those... if things had been different, anyway.
****
“First order of business,” Aunt Carol said from the end of the table. She had a donut and a cup of coffee in front of her, untouched. “The old Victorian house on the counter of First and Washington. Does anyone have any news?”
Dana raised her hand. “My sister lives on the block across the street and she saw the owner bringing in buckets of paint yesterday.”
Aunt Carol's eyes widened. Lira thought she saw a blood vessel pop in her forehead. “Paint! What could he possibly be painting in there? I hope it's not the wood!” There was a long pause where it was obvious she was thinking very hard. “New plan,” she said suddenly. “We have to get someone in that house to make sure he's not ruining it. Someone has to volunteer to go inside.”
No one raised their hand.
“That's trespassing,” Aunt Ida said.
“We won't break in, of course!” Aunt Carol told her. “One of us will charm our way in. Now who can that be...” Her gaze fell on Lira.
“Oh no, Aunt Carol. Count me out!” Lira threw her hands up in the air, almost knocking over her coffee mug. “What could I do to charm him?”
Several of the ladies giggled.
“You can't be serious, Lira.” Aunt Carol fingered Lira's strawberry blonde hair. It was so soft, it easily fell through her fingers. “He'll take one look at you and let you in.”
“Are you offering me up as bait?” Lira asked. “I'm your niece!”
Aunt Carol frowned at her. “Honestly, Lira, this is for the greater good. Don't you want to save the house just as much as we do?”
Lira could argue that point, but she didn't necessarily want to argue it in front of her aunt. “I guess,” she said and folded her arms over her chest. “I suppose he doesn't look dangerous.”
“Of course not!” Aunt Carol said, and the other ladies nodded eagerly in agreement. “He's very handsome. How could he be dangerous?”
Lira knew this was a fallacy. Handsome men were just as dangerous as ugly men, but she held her tongue. She didn't know what their plans were for how she was supposed to get into the house, but she kinda dreaded it. “You know, Aunt Carol,” she said before any of them could say another word. “I think I'll figure out my own way to approach him if you don't mind.”
“I trust you, Lira.” Aunt Carol nodded her head and finally took a bite of her donut. Her stomach seemed to have calmed down now that they had a plan of action. “Just don't take too terribly long. You never know where he's slapping around that paint in there.”
Lira sipped at her coffee. She had a lot of thinking to do. She usually wasn't forceful when it came to men, especially men she didn't know. Maybe she would ask Rachel's advice. Rachel seemed to have better luck in that area. At least at first, anyway.
*****
Lira arranged to meet Rachel for dinner that night in Mankato where they could grab something light and then maybe have a drink if they felt like it. Because the dinner choices in Cleveland were just a little pathetic, to be honest. They ended up at bar and grill downtown that served good appetizers and drinks.
Rachel was looking at the menu carefully. “Ooo, look at all these martinis.” She put the drink menu down so Lira could see and then pointed to one in the middle. “Look, blueberry! I think I'll get that one.”
“Sounds good.” Lira smiled.
The waitress came by and took their order. Once she had left, Lira spent a few minutes trying to decide how she was going to bring up the topic when she decided to just go for it. “Okay, Rachel, I have a strange question to ask you.”
“What is it?” Rachel's eyes were wide.
“I need your advice on something.”
Her eyes softened and a small smile smile came to her lips. “Yes?”
Lira began tearing the napkin around her water glass. “You know that I'm sort of involved in the Historical Society that my aunts are in?”
Rachel's face fell a little. No doubt she thought this was a boring subject. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I probably heard about that at some point.”
“Well, they're extremely interested in that old Victorian house on the corner of First and Washington,” Lira continued on, ignoring her friend. “Turns out some guy recently bought it off the market. Well, my aunts have nominated me to somehow get to know him and get into the house to make sure he's not doing any structural damage to the house.”
At this point, the waitress came with their drinks, setting Rachel's martini in front of her, completely distracting her from Lira's quest.
Rachel smiled at it and immediately picked it up and raised it to her lips. “Yum! Oh, it's so good! Lira, you have to taste it!”
Lira had stuck with a cherry coke herself, deciding to keep her mind clear for this conversation. “No thanks.” she said. “Listen, Rachel, I need your help on this thing.”
“Okay, okay! I'm listening!” Rachel set down her drink and looked right at Lira.
“So,” Lira said and took a breath. “I need to get in this guy's good graces and ultimately into his house. That's what I need your help with. You know I'm not the best with...”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Men?”
Lira frowned. She was going to say that she wouldn't have put it that way, but she had in fact said most of the sentence herself. “Let's just say you're better than I am with this sort of thing.”
Rachel grinned. “Well, this is definitely something I can help with. I'm so glad you asked me!” She suddenly paused and frowned. “Wait a second. He's not some old, ugly guy, is he? Because I don't know if I can' condone that.”
“I haven't exactly seen him myself, but my aunt assures me that he's young and handsome.” Lira took a sip of her pop.
“Hmm. Your fifty year old aunt says he's handsome. We may need to confirm this first.” Rachel clapped her hands together. “No problem! I have some binoculars at my mom's house from when I took a birdwatching class in high school.”
Lira wrinkled her nose. “Birdwatching? How come I never heard about that class?”
Rachel sipped at her martini and looked it away. “It existed. Never mind though. We'll get to the bottom of this. My mom is friends with the pastor of the church across the street. We'll camp out until we find out what he looks like. Then we'll make a plan and make our move.”
“Are you sure the pastor will be okay with that?” This was sounding downright shady.
“Pfft...” Rachel's martini was half gone. “He won't even know. My mom can get the keys from him. She's in the choir. We'll do it when no one's there. Don't worry!”
Lira nervously sipped at her coke. She sure hoped that asking Rachel for help would be the right decision.
Chapter 3
Bridges Index