Chapter Nine #2
She finally stopped in front of him. “I didn’t mean for you to—”
“What’s going on?” Nick stood inside, looking at them through the screen door.
“I thought you were out back working on the hot tub pump,” Grace said.
“I was.” He waved a wrench. “I needed a different tool.”
“Well, the hot tub isn’t out here.” Grace was smiling.
Nick looked around. “No, I just…thought…” He frowned.
“So it’s not just me who thinks his timing is weird,” Daniel said. “I wondered.”
Grace sank into a wicker chair. “He’s not really lurking outside doors waiting for the right moment to appear. His gift just seems to be always on.”
“Huh, I…” Nick looked puzzled. “I just thought I needed to be here.”
“I prefer your gift of serendipity to my gift of…calamity,” Daniel said.
“Daniel just called Blount and told them he’s not going back next semester.”
Nick pushed the door open. “Well, that was kind of sudden.”
“Not really.” Daniel leaned against the porch railing. “I’ve been mulling it over for months. This”—he pointed to his head—“was just the tipping point.”
“But you love teaching, and your research,” said Grace. “You were talking about the tenure track.”
“Everyone who isn’t tenured talks about the tenure track,” Daniel said. “It was never a big deal for me. I was always a bit of an academic heretic when it came to that stuff.”
Nick grinned. “Heretic, huh?”
“Yeah, well. The students love the whole bee whispering thing, but my department head? Not so much,” Daniel admitted.
“But they’ve always called you the Bee Whisperer, haven’t they?” Nick asked as he sat on the steps. “I thought it was a token of esteem from your peers.”
“In the beekeeping community, sure. But when the academics say it, it’s usually in a ‘Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs’ kind of way.”
A moist fog had enveloped the mountain. The sounds of laughter from the guest cabins and the spring chorus of peepers were muffled and soft.
“Well, you know we support you, whatever you decide to do,” Nick said.
“I just don’t want you making decisions like this because of… It’s not…” Grace couldn’t seem to find the words.
“Gracie,” Daniel said. “Me at Blount was always a square-peg-round-hole scenario. They tolerate guys like me because the kids love my lectures and the mystique of the bees and my anti-corporate reputation. But none of that gets the university funding.”
Nick stiffened. “You know, when it comes to funding, the foundation—”
Daniel lifted his hand. “I know. But you’re in early days still and—”
“We’re. We’re in early days with the foundation,” Grace said.
Daniel grinned. “Okay, we’re in early days yet and I think we need to focus on other things.”
“Fair enough,” Nick said.
“Let’s just say I gave the professor-track a try, and it wasn’t a fit for me,” Daniel said. He should have just quit when Pops died instead of taking leave, delaying the inevitable. “Since I need to stick around up here for a while anyway, I say it’s good timing.”
“I’m all for you sticking around,” Nick added. “Way too much estrogen up here.”
Grace gave Nick a glare. Nick smirked.
Daniel changed the subject. “Speaking of estrogen, where was Jamie today?”
“I forgot to tell you,” said Grace. “She’ll be back up here tomorrow. I had one of the Pratt boys helping with the chores, but he won’t go near the bees.”
“No problem. How is she doing?”
“She’s great. Real busy with school. I think they were going electronics shopping today in Asheville for something.”
“Electronics, huh.” Daniel remembered the tablet Jamie had gotten for Christmas. He was going to have to ramp up his gift game for his assistant.
“So,” Nick said. “I only got the condensed version of what went on in Italy. Maybe you can clear some things up for me. Is this Mel person an old hippie? With the graying hair in a ponytail thing?”
Grace snorted and Daniel smiled.
“Not all environmental reporters are old hippies,” Daniel said.
“She’s about my age, cute little thing. Probably weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.
Blonde, but her hair’s really short. You know, those styles that kind of stick out all over.
And…” He suddenly realized what he was saying and stopped, remembering his dream. “You saw her picture on her website.”
“Uh-huh,” Nick said.
Grace had that knowing sisterly smirk on her face. “Cute little thing, huh?”
Daniel felt his face heat. “Well, she is really short. And next to me, anyone that short looks cute.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Yeah, I studied her blog. Definitely a pretty…talented writer.”
“Real funny.”
“Next question. For real, this time. Grace tells me you fought two armed muggers in Florence, and I quote, ‘all Steven Segal like.’ So why am I not seeing any cell phone videos on YouTube?”
“It all happened pretty fast. It was probably over before anyone started filming.” Daniel said. “And I wouldn’t say armed exactly.”
“He had a knife,” Grace said.
“Give me a break. The guy wasn’t trying to stab me. He was trying to get Mel’s pack.”
“Grace showed me some old videos of you in action,” Nick said. “I bet Mel was impressed when you pulled out your moves.”
Daniel shrugged.
“Just promise me you’ll take it easy for a few days,” Grace said. “No overexertion.”
“I will be a total couch potato. An unemployed couch potato,” Daniel said with a dark edge of humor.
“Hey, maybe I should move into the old home place after all. I’m practically a Taggart now!
” He then launched himself off the steps.
“But first, I’ll go check on the girls. Take a walk. Clear the cobwebs a bit.”
“Take your phone,” Grace said.
He pulled his cell out of his pocket and waved it at her as he headed out. “Yes, Mom.”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Mel said. She had slept surprisingly well at the motel and returned to the Beesom RV park office really early, but her new cell phone had not arrived yet, so she was using their office phone.
“When I check my cell phone records, I’ll find out Dr. Daniel Woodruff called me yesterday around noon. Am I right?”
“Sorry?” Daniel sounded confused and sleepy. “Who is this?”
He knew darn well who it was.
“It’s not that early in the morning. This is Mel Noblett, Daniel. Remember me? Florence? Interview? Muggers? Prosecco? You saved my life yesterday, didn’t you?” She almost whispered the last, turning away from Beesom’s nosy receptionist.
“Not that I know of,” he said in a confused tone.
Oh, that was almost convincing. “Mr. Beesom gave me your number. Told me you called him yesterday while my RV was still smoking. I find that rather odd. Why would you call the RV park office, Dr. Woodruff?” she asked.
There was enough of a pause to make her certain of her suspicions.
“I was worried about you after the earthquake. I didn’t know if you were still in Italy. So, I tried your cell. When you didn’t answer, I checked around to see if you had gotten home okay,” he said.
“Riiiight.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring her skeptical tone.
She decided not to be flippant. “I’m alive. My car is in one piece. My laptop is safe,” she said. “I’m homeless, but breathing.”
“I’m really sorry about your home,” he said.
Mel bit her lip. “Well, I get to buy new clothes and things, so that’s a plus.”
“Do you have some place to stay? Does your insurance—?”
“I’m in a motel at the moment,” Mel replied. “I’m fine.”
“A motel?” Then he said something she couldn’t hear.
“So, Dr. Woodruff,” she asked in what she hoped was a reasonable tone. “How was your trip home?”
“Horrible,” he said.
“And how’s our friend Francesca?”
That hit a nerve, if his silence was any indication, but he finally responded. “Fine. She made it home fine.”
“That’s great. You kept her from getting on that train, didn’t you?”
“Hey, I’m really sorry about that whole misunderstanding. It’s not what you—”
“Look,” Mel interrupted. “I know you called my cell. I know you saved my life. I know you saved Francesca from that train wreck,” she said. “But fine. Forget all that. Forget I mentioned it. I still need to talk to you.”
“Why?” he said.
“I need some additional material for the article.”
“Additional material?” he repeated.
“Just some follow-up questions. Details on the work you’re doing to build more resilient bees. Things like that.”
She heard mutters on the other end, one a clearly feminine voice. Great. She had caused an argument of some kind with another woman.
“Daniel? I’ll email you a copy of what I have so far. You can review it and see what you think.”
“Why don’t you come on up here?” Daniel said. “You can get that material for your article firsthand. Take a tour of our apiary.”
Well, that was a surprising turn, but his voice didn’t give anything away.
“I… I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Considering you don’t have any place to stay, it does make sense.” He didn’t sound convinced, however.
“Are you sure? I could stay in Patton Springs.”
“There’s no need. You could just stay up here instead of driving up and down the mountain.”
“Well…”
“You would have your own room with a bath, and there’s even running water, if it rains,” he drawled. “Most times we have to tote it up from the spring in buckets.” She could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Now you’re making fun of me,” she said in a mock-pouting tone.
“Never,” he said.
She smiled, thinking about that amazing kiss that she couldn’t forget and he might not even remember. “Sounds great. I can drive there first and head to Dallas after that.”
“Dallas?”
“My parents are there for the next two months. I’m going to crash on their couch until the insurance comes through and I can get my life into some semblance of order.”
“Long drive.”
“Ah, but you know me and driving. The weather’s perfect to put the top down and style my hair.”
He laughed. “Send me your article and I’ll send you the directions and the gate entry code.”
“You can email your exact address to me. My GPS’ll get me there.”
“Don’t count on it. Do you want interstate all the way, or would you prefer a bit of scenic backwoods?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“Backwoods it is.”
“It may be tomorrow before I show up. I still need to buy some stuff.”
There was a long silence. “I’m really sorry, Mel. I’m sure there are some things that will be hard to replace.”
“The most important stuff’s between the ears,” she said. But she kept flashing on things she would miss: photo albums, family mementos, her favorite shoes.
“If you decide to drive straight through, don’t worry about showing up late. If you get lost on the mountain, call me. If your cell doesn’t work, just drive somewhere it does. It happens sometimes up here.”
“Will do.”
“But if you do get lost, don’t wander around the woods or follow any old hags or glowing lights or anything. A lot of those stories my Pops told about these mountains are true. And definitely avoid gingerbread houses.”
Mel laughed as she hung up the phone.