The Painting

#11 Tension - Teannas

I led Lyle back to the short hallway we met - or ran - into earlier that day. There wasn't need or time to put the fresh towels and sheets into guest rooms so I intended on leaving them in the basement cubby Tony built for us marked 'clean'.

Just as we were rounding the corner the two men I'd checked in the night before, Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith appeared at the doorway of the basement. Mr. Smith faced toward us as Jones closed the basement door gingerly behind him, still unaware of Lyle and I's presence.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" My head tilted in confusion as I came to a stop reaching out gently to Lyles forearm to halt her. For a better grip she'd hoisted the basket to rest above her abdomen, the sheets blocking most of her view. At my motion she lowered the basket to align her gaze on the men. I felt her arm tense under my hand.

Smith took the lead and waved his hand dismissively. "We're fine, just got a bit turned around."

"Nothing down there but washers and dryers." Jones added dryly, his words aimed more to Smith than us as he settled his gaze on Lyle and I. There was animosity behind his eyes as if we had somehow interrupted their activity.

I nodded my head slowly and proceeded forward. I eyed Mr. Jones who although he stayed behind Smith was half a foot taller and his head and broad shoulders made it impossible for him to remain unseen.

Remembering Dania and Evelyn's gossip I sized him up. He didn't exactly seem like Mrs. McCarthy's type, or vice versa. Mrs. McCarthy was a lovely woman but more in a Midwestern motherly way with close cropped brown short hair with blond highlights that screamed soccer mom. The complacent smile constantly painted on her face removed only when she snorted in laughter. Her entire face wrinkled excitedly at her enjoyment as she tried to catch her breath. Maybe Jones noticed that and it attracted him.

It seemed unlikely to me, but then why had Evelyn seen him in her room?

We were in the process of passing the men when Smith spoke up.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" He lifted an open hand to Lyle in an uncertain gesture.

I looked from Smith to Lyle and back again.

"I've been in the house for a few days, but otherwise I'm afraid not." She deflected, her tone serious as she adjusted the basket.

Smith's face creased with confusion and didn't soften at Lyle's answer. He turned to Jones and muttered something that I couldn't make out.

I looked to Lyle, her smile was gone and her lips set into a fine line as she took in the exchange between the two men. Her shoulders tensed - though it wasn't from the weight of the basket. It was an emotion I recognized all too well. It reminded me of witnessing children sneak one of Dania's brownie bites from the kitchen after their parents specifically told them to wait until after dinner.

She was hiding something.

Briefly I felt elated that I was able to witness an emotion so fully capture her entire body. Her eyes were no longer calm but they intensified as she focused on the two men, I briefly caught a glimpse of something I didn't recognize but it faded as she looked down to me and then to the basement door.

What was she so anxious about?

My elation turned into concern as I wondered why Smith's question caused her such distress. I opened my mouth to interject when quick paced footsteps neared their way to our unorthodox meeting.

Grace rushed around the corner her braid waving behind her as her stride neared us. In her rush she was completely oblivious to the two men or the tension that radiated between them and Lyle.

"May, oh thank god." She blew out a breath beginning our conversation in the same way she did nearly every day. She took my arm and pulled me to the side a few inches then began rattling off the multiple tasks we need completed before nine p.m. - when the bonfire officially started. I nodded reassuringly as she absent-mindedly unclipped the line of clothes pins I'd attached to the hem of my shirt and placed them securely in her own pocket.

Grace was a chronic multi tasker and for as long as I'd known her she loved dividing her attention between talking to me and primping. Often she took on the task of braiding my hair as she spoke, I think it relaxed her and made the conversation feel less like boss to employee and more friend to friend.

Pleased that she'd exhausted her list her cleared mind took notice of the two men. She paused politely at and greeted them with her usual charm. After assuring her they were having a wonderful stay and that there was nothing they needed at the moment they made their way to the foyer. The moment was diffused - although I'd lost my chance to figure out why there was such tension in the first place.

"Oh Grace before I forget, the painting in the hall needs a new nail. Do you think Tony has one?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw the men stop before fully rounding the corner.

"What, the one where yours used to be?" She asked referring to Mo Soileireacht. I don't know why she chose that identifier, it'd been months since we replaced the serene painting of a pond.

"Yea it keeps sliding off the nail I think the new one is too big." I explained recalling Mr. Smith's advice. I glanced over to where he and Mr. Jones had paused but the two men were speaking in hushed tones and paid little attention to Grace and I.

"Right I'll have Tony take a look at it when he comes over tonight." She looked toward the foyer where the men stood and waved at them. They returned Grace's wave before moving their conversation out of the room.

"Well you were out there for a long time." Grace directed her accusation toward me before her focus shifted up to Lyle. She gave me a subtle wink as I explained Lyle's helpful role.

Lyle's apprehension was gone as she and Grace went back and forth a few times while Grace thanked her sincerely. I chewed on my lip and waited for their interaction to end. Now I was the anxious one. Fiddling my thumbs until it was the right time to ask Lyle if there was any truth to the Smith and Jones's odd inquiry.

"You know if you're free tonight, I am sure May would love to have some help manning the s'more stand." Grace's jovial voice cut into my thoughts. She placed her hand on Lyle's arm as if she was asking for charity.

I rolled my eyes. Good lord. Now she was bargaining me off like a lost puppy. My friend was desperate to mark me down as a win in her matchmaking book.

"I think I'll need to set these down first." Lyle hefted the basket as she grinned at Grace's offer.

"Oh! Of course!" She threw her hands in the air in astonishment that she'd been so dense not to notice. Without another word she grabbed the basket from Lyle and began her march down the basement steps calling after her that we start on the set up.

I shook my head and laughed at her action. For as long as I'd known Grace she was never the type of boss who refused to do the grunt labor she delegated. To her every job, from laundry to greeting the customers were equally important, and as the house mother of White Pine she jumped into every activity with the same positivity and open mind.

I smiled as she sang on her way down, the sound of her off key operatic voice carried up the stairwell as Lyle turned to me. She shook her arms loose as they fell to her side free from the baskets deceivingly heavy weight. "I'd be happy to lend a hand if you don't mind sharing your s'more title."

I acted as if I was weighing the option when in reality I was dying to have her in my company tonight. "As long as you don't mind working in the shadow of a s'more celebrity."

"Do they really call you that?" Lyle contested her eyebrows raised in mock suspicion.

I shrugged and walked past her. "I'm working on my branding."  

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Short chapter today! Hope y'all enjoy !

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