“But understand,” he added sheepishly, “I might have already started the ball rolling in my own, inept way.”
She urged him on silently with a nod.
“I just got online, ordering two regulators, even though you know we could use at least half a dozen.” He qualified rapidly. “It’s to get Petula here as many times as possible. I plan on ordering a couple more in a few days, then additional ones after that.”
“A solid plan, for a start,” Tabitha responded, not calling him out on the wastefulness of what he was doing. “But I bet if we put our heads together, we can come up with a much better course of action.”
“A better course of action for what?” Spencer asked, coming in with his arms laden. He’d obviously picked up everything on the wish-list, plus a bunch more.
“A better course of action to vet all the potential students who’ve responded,” Tabitha answered smoothly while giving Julian a covert wink. “We need to know more about their physical and mental health issues before we start filling in spots. I’m going to begin reaching out to the people who’ve put their names down, to see if they’re willing to pass along medical releases.”
“Good call, Tab,” Spence praised, opening up the box of donuts with an anticipatory glint in his eyes. His sugar-concentration was such, that he was unaware of Julian turning away to hide his grin.
Damn, Tabitha was good.
That boded well for Operation Paul.
CHAPTER 4
Petula pulled into the long,tree-lined driveway which was more or less hidden away from public view; just how she liked it. Coming home to the safety of the remote property she owned with her brother always felt like she was removing a heavy weight she dragged around all day.
This was her safe place.
Not that she wasn’t safe working her job for UPS. She’d been with them now for over a decade, and had eventually stopped seeing bogeymen around every corner after a few years in. But still, there was something about home-territory that had her shedding the protective skin she donned for the public, becoming her true self for a few hours each day.
Which is why her interaction with Julian Sothard earlier had been such an anomaly. She’d let her guard down. She’d actually given him a glimpse of the real her. She’d joked with him. And… Petula cringed. She’d more or less told him he was cute and flirted with him regarding a nickname.
How screwed up was that?
Or was it?
Maybe she was finally doing something…normal.
Petula got out of her little silver compact, reaching for and hefting the bag of groceries she’d purchased on her way home before closing the door and walking toward her house. She needed to get started on supper instead of perseverating on what had occurred at Diver Downeast. According to the text from her brother, Statler would be arriving within the hour, and she needed to focus on feeding them both.
Stat, of course, had told her time and time again that she didn’t have to provide meals for him, but on the occasions that he was home and not working a remote job, she loved spoiling him. He’d done so much for her in the past, that she’d never be able to repay him. Not that he was looking for repayment.Nuh, uh..Her brother was a rock. A solid, reliable rock, who took the world on his shoulders and cared for his own, be it her, or the people who worked for him. And they all appreciated it.
Thinking about her brother going away again soon, made Petula sigh. She always missed him when he was gone. And from what Stat had said, he was close, this time, to getting a large, lucrative job he’d bid on up in northern Maine close to the Canadian border. It would mean him being absent for any number of months.
It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. So, she’d have to deal, as usual.
Unlocking and heading in through the side door of their cape-style house, Petula hit the light switch, illuminating the mudroom and kitchen, then toed off her boots and continued forward. She breathed deeply of the comforting smells still lingering from this morning.Yup.She’d made scones at dawn, then put a load of clothes in the washer before she’d left, so the air was redolent with the scent of baked goods and laundry. Which meant, before anything else, Petula needed to switch her wet stuff over to the dryer or end up suffering a mildewy mess.
Not going to happen.
Placing her bag on a butcherblock island, she passed through the tidy kitchen and entered a decent sized laundry room that doubled as a closet and a pantry. Quickly, she moved her things from the washer to the dryer, then grabbed some clean sweats off the shelf, and changed into them before adding her uniform to the dirty bin. Feeling much more comfortable, she headed back to the kitchen, and humming under her breath, she began removing groceries from the bag.
She’d purchased a nice piece of swordfish which she’d grill outside since the weather was no longer frigid. But first, she had potatoes to peel and boil before mashing.
Statler loved mashed potatoes, and she was determined to provide him with some great comfort food before he headed off for possible work in the boonies, where she knew he’d eat from boxes and bags for the duration.
Fresh green beans would round out their meal; the whole thing not taking much brain power, which was good. Petula’s cerebrum was still caught up in the whole Julian thing, and she had yet to decide how much she wanted to share with Statler about the conflicted feelings she was having around the man.
She should probably spill it all, every paradox in her head, because once Stat was gone, she’d no longer have a sounding board, which she desperately needed for this.
Petula put the potatoes and beans on to boil, then went out the back door to clean and start the grill when she heard her brother’s truck pulling up the driveway.
There was no mistaking the throaty growl of his vehicle. The Beast, as she liked to call it, was a workhorse of a truck; rusty-red, scratched and dented, never clean, and always on the verge of needing some kind of repair. Stat used his vehicle hard, as an extension of both himself and his office, often driving it to the point of breaking down.
