24. Ned
NED
He hated the look on Flick Creevy’s face when he came in. On the rare occasion there were employee problems, they were minor and removed from Ned’s personal life. Not so with Flick Creevy. Even Darcy was now wrapped up in this, which made Ned wonder what exactly was going on with the two of them; but that was another problem. Now, as he looked at the boy’s solemn expression as he sat across from him, Ned was reminded of just how much had happened since he’d hired him at the start of the season.
“Would you like to tell me what happened Saturday night?”
Flick looked about ready to throw up. “Alright, sir.”
Ned listened carefully as Flick recounted the evening. He had been at the member dinner. He saw his coworker Wendy, who was upset over spilling dessert on one of the members, and he felt bad. So, he snagged a bottle of wine from a table and brought it outside to where she was crying, as a means to comfort her.
“Surely you realize the transgressions with this one decision. For starters, you’re underage, Flick. That’s against the law. You not only took a bottle, but you then offered alcohol to another employee who was on the clock at the time, which is also against the rules.”
Flick did not argue any of this.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Birch. I really am. I was trying to help a friend and I went about it all wrong.”
Ned felt for the kid. “I’m sure you’ll understand, this is something we need to address.” As predicted, Ned had had calls from not only Dan Welter, the member who’d discovered Flick that night, but also from members of the board, and of course, Dick Delancey.
“He was your hire, but I do like his stepfather,” Dick had said that morning. There was Dick, inserting his own interests into what should have been a clean procedural response by the chairman. “That said, a lot of people think the kid is responsible for the other thefts around here. It makes sense—it all started after he was hired. Plus, there’s just something cagey about him, don’t you think? I don’t know, every time I look at him, I just get a feeling.”
No, Ned did not think any of those things about Flick. And just what feeling was Dick referring to, Ned wanted to ask.
“What does your family think about this?” Ned asked Flick, now. Ned had wondered about this detail a good bit. Here was yet another thorn with the new neighbors. Stan had shown no evidence of being a reasonable person; Ned could easily imagine him blowing up and coming to his stepson’s defense in ways that worsened things at home and at work.
“They’re not happy. They’re new here, and I’ve embarrassed them.” His face clouded. “Especially my mom.”
To Ned’s dismay, the boy started to cry. It wasn’t crocodile tears, either—Flick kept his head down and swiped at his cheeks and then pulled himself together and looked Ned in the eye.
Ned leaned back in his chair. The board had enough to do. He didn’t need to involve them in this, too. “It’s unfortunate, the choice you made the other night. But for the rest of this summer, you’ve proven yourself. I’m going to put you on disciplinary action.
“First, your next paycheck will reflect the cost of the bottle of wine you took. Second, you are not allowed to work the floor or drive the cart this week. You will be solely on kitchen duty. If there are no further incidents, you may return to the rest next week.”
The kid looked so relieved, Ned was afraid he might stand up and hug him.
“Lastly, you will write a letter of apology that I can share with the board. As I’ve told you before, I like to think of Mayhaven as a little family. As a new member, you’re part of that now. People make mistakes sometimes—what’s important is that you own them and learn from them. Sound fair?”
“Very fair. Thank you.” Flick exhaled a huge sigh of relief. “I really am sorry.”
“Enough apologizing, I’ve already accepted. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Later that afternoon, Jane appeared in his doorway.
“Please tell me this isn’t about fish or weddings.”
“No, I think you’re going to like this,” she said, holding up a handful of papers. She lay them ceremoniously on his desk. “Three more membership applications.”
“Well, that was fast!” Ned flicked through. Sure enough, Stan’s brothers and their friend Tony had all applied.
“The board will be thrilled,” Jane said, summing up Ned’s exact thoughts.
“Though the timing is a little suspect,” he added. “After what happened with his stepson this weekend. I just put Flick on probation.”
“You think they pushed these out, just to keep Flick here?”
“Perhaps.” To be fair, Stan had said, well before any of this happened, that he wanted his family and friend to join. It was the reason Ned had let them golf before their membership was official. “Speaking of, have they paid their dues yet?” The other two new families who’d recently joined had. Living next door to Stan, Ned could tell that money wasn’t the problem.
Jane made a face. “Strangely, no. And between us, the restaurant billing shows a rather large bar tab for last Friday. Apparently Mr. Crenshaw and his guests enjoyed themselves and treated everyone to quite a few rounds of drinks and food. Shall I put in a call?” It was standard office policy. Nothing personal.
“Please do,” Ned said, decidedly.
“Since you brought it up, where do things stand with the koi delivery?”
Dick Delancey had asked the same thing, earlier. “It’s the one-week wedding countdown!” he’d said. “I’ve got three hundred guests, but still no damn fish?”
“I called this morning, and the roads around the hatchery are finally clear. They’re starting their drive tomorrow.”
Dick’s mouth worked like he had eaten something bad. “Cutting it pretty close.”
“The koi will be here,” Ned had assured him.
Now, with Jane, he could be more frank. “What, really, is all the fuss? The bridge over the pond is done, and it looks great. So, unless Phoebe has switched her theme to snorkeling, I don’t see the urgency for a bunch of fish to be swimming under it.”
“You didn’t hear about the underwater photographer?” Jane smiled wickedly. “Kidding. But you’ll be pleased to know I’ve confirmed everything else.”
“Thanks. I’ll be relieved when this wedding is over.” Still, there was the nagging feeling he’d forgotten something. “Jane, do I have any more appointments scheduled today?”
“No, there’s nothing else on the calendar.”
“I feel like I’m supposed to be somewhere.”
Jane shook her head. “Your afternoon is wide open.”
Instead of leaving Ned went through the wedding details one last time: the Maine seafood distributor would depart Portland with an entire truckload of fresh lobster, oysters, clams, and mussels in the predawn hours Friday morning. The pantry housed ten cases of Krug (since padlocked, upon Dick Delancey’s insistence). The florists, band, photographers (there were three!), extra bar and serving staff would arrive the day of. They would get this done, right down to the last silver candlestick. Ned’s contract was up for renewal. Dick was chairman. He stayed late making sure everything was in order.
On the way home, Ned realized that he had two missed calls from Ingrid. When he tried her back, it went straight to voicemail. Whatever it was must not have been important.
Ingrid’s car was not at home. Inside, Adam was pacing about the kitchen. “Where have you been?” he cried before Ned could even set his bag down. “I’m starving. Mom’s gone and there’s no food.”
“Huh.” Ned couldn’t recall Ingrid mentioning a house showing that afternoon. She must have gotten a last-minute client call. “Don’t worry, Adam, I’m sure there’s something we can throw together.”
But, there was not. The fridge was unusually bare. “Let’s order pizza.”
Adam, Darcy, and Ned ate their pizza without Ingrid. No one seemed to know where she was, but they saved two pepperoni slices for her.
“Mom doesn’t like pepperoni,” Adam said, reaching for one of the remaining slices in the box.
“Easy buddy, you’ve already had four,” Ned said, pushing the box away. “And sure she does. Doesn’t she?” For the life of him, Ned suddenly could not recall his wife’s favorite pizza topping.
Darcy shrugged. “I think she likes mushroom?”
“Mushroom?” That couldn’t be right.
As if in reply, the front door swung open with a bang, and the three of them startled. “Mom!” Adam said. “Can I eat your pizza?”
Ingrid trudged into the kitchen, holding a big gold cellophane balloon. She was all dressed up, but she did not look celebratory.
“Where’d you get that?” Darcy asked, eyeing the balloon.
Ned sensed something was off. “Hi, honey. We were wondering where you were.”
“Yeah, where were you?” Adam repeated, snagging a slice of pizza.
“Where was I?” Ingrid dumped her bag on the floor. She started to laugh, but it came out more like a cackle. “Where were all of you ?”
Ned felt the need to stand, but he was afraid to move. “We were just having dinner. Want some?”
“Mom, you don’t like pepperoni, right?” Adam asked.
Ingrid didn’t answer. She pointed her finger at them accusingly, the cellophane balloon trembling violently at the end of its string. “I was at the party.”
“Party?” they echoed in unison.
It was the wrong thing to say. The very worst thing.
“You all missed my party!” Ingrid cried.
No, no, no. They’d forgotten the party that her office was throwing her for selling the Tree House, the house that no one could sell. It was Ingrid’s shining moment. And they’d missed it. Ned hopped up from his chair. “Oh, honey I am so sorry! We forgot your party was today.” He went to hug her.
Ingrid held out her hand like a crossing guard halting traffic. Ned stopped. His wife was shaking-mad but she also looked about to burst into tears. “For all the things I do for all of you people every stinking day, the one thing I have asked for this summer— the one damn thing —was to come to my office party and support me for a change.” She glared at them. “And none of you came!”
A blanket of silence fell across the kitchen.
Ned cleared his throat, arms still open. “Honey, we will make this up to you—”
“Save it!” Ingrid stalked past him, straight to the knife set on the kitchen counter. The family watched in horror as she withdrew a steak knife like a sword from its sheath and stabbed the gold balloon.
“Mom!” Adam cried.
There was an earsplitting pop and the balloon wheezed to the floor in a cellophane puddle. “That is how this family made me feel today.” Then before anyone could say anything else (but what was there to say, really?) she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Ned remained frozen in place.
Darcy huffed. “Well, that was crazy.”
Adam lifted the lid of the pizza box and peered inside. “Does she like pepperoni or not?”
There was a small thud and a wail from the top of the stairs. “I like mushroom!”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Told you.”