As now when it had distracted her from finishing this squabble with her headstrong father-in-law.
“I’m not going to argue with you about Mr. Hutton, Irv. In fact, I’m not going to argue with you at all.” She turned back to the sink and braced herself against the rim of it. “I’m tired, too.”
“Tired, hell. You’re exhausted. You tear around here every day like your hair was on fire, paintin’ this, scrubbin’ that, wearin’ yourself to a frazzle.”
“Yes. I do.” Feeling tears welling in her eyes, she kept her back to him and began to wash the dishes with ruthless efficiency.
He sighed. “Where’d you leave that damn ladder?”
An hour later, with her holding the ladder steady for him, he twisted a new bulb into the repaired fixture, flooding the hallway with light. “Leave the ladder here,” he said as he climbed down. “I’ll take it out in the morning.”
“Thank you.” He waved off her thanks, but she touched his arm to keep him from dismissing her. It was important to her that he knew how genuine her gratitude was. “I apologize for being short-tempered, Irv. It’s not you I’m mad at. It’s—”
“Life. I know. I’m sorta put out with it myself.” His smile was empathetic. “I’ll get around to those other chores, Laurel. I promise. But I do have something else to do tonight.”
He left and didn’t return until the wee hours.
* * *
Only a few days after their spat over his mysterious nighttime excursions, Laurel learned of something else he’d been keeping from her: a money shortage.
Because she shopped in Hancock’s store so frequently, she’d come to know the head cashier by name. Mr. Hamel was always chatty and friendly. Today, when she placed the items she wished to purchase on the counter, he looked askance, stammered a greeting, then hastily excused himself.
At least two minutes went by while other customers ready to check out stacked up behind her. She became hotly self-conscious of their malcontent over the delay she was causing.
Mr. Hamel returned, followed by another of the store employees, who took over the register, while he drew Laurel aside. He wore an agonized expression and spoke in an undertone.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Plummer, but Mr. Hancock refuses to extend further credit until your father-in-law brings his account current. It’s months in arrears.”
“What? You must be mistaken.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Her cheeks flamed. “I’m certain it’s an oversight.”
“Oh, I’m certain of that, too,” he said hastily. “As is Mr. Hancock. It’s just that…” He wrung his hands. “You understand.”
“Of course. Of course.”
She asked the amount of the balance due, and when he told her, her knees went weak. She opened her pocketbook and removed the small change purse in which she carried her nest egg money when she was on an errand.
She rapidly counted the bills folded inside it. They covered only half the amount owed to the store, but she gave what she had to Mr. Hamel. “I’ll bring you the rest later today.”
Still looking pained, he said, “Should I restock the goods on the counter?”
Aware of people nosily staring, she forced herself to smile. “I wouldn’t have you go to all that trouble. If you’ll please sack them up, I’ll pay cash for them when I return.” Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, she exited the store.
As promised, she returned with cash in an envelope addressed to Mr. Hancock. In it, she included a note of apology and assured him that it would never happen again.
But getting current with Hancock’s had taken a huge bite out of her nest egg.
She was loaded for bear when Irv came home for supper. But he looked weary to the core, and, without her even asking, he undertook the first to-do task on her list.
She didn’t have the heart to relate the humiliating experience she’d suffered, or to demand an explanation for the embarrassing delinquency. Perhaps he’d bitten off more than he c
ould chew by renting the house. If so, whose fault was that? Hers.
Although it wasn’t like Irv to be absentminded, maybe the unpaid account had been a mere oversight. That night she went to bed praying that was the case.