The Brushstroke Legacy (2 page)

When she laid the new copy in front of James, he stared at the two layouts. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure.”
But you can bet I’m going to find out.

She spent the rest of the morning making sure the final copy was ready. After she sent it off, she called in her team. Helene, Donald, and Peter took their usual places, coffee cups in hand, and waited for her to start.

“Okay, you want to tell me what’s going on here?” At their blank looks, she continued by holding up the two printouts. “Who made the changes?”

They looked at her, all shrugging, all appearing innocent.

Ragni rubbed her forehead where a headache was past debating whether it should attack and pounded like the bass in a heavy metal band.

“Ragni, the one on the right is the one we finished last night,” Donald, second-in-command, said softly.

“It’s not the one James had for final approval this morning.” She held up the one on the left. “This was. And this is the one now in the computer. Again I ask…any ideas?”
I hate being a supervisor. The extra money just isn’t worth it.
She rubbed her forehead again.
How am I going to find the culprit?

Too tired to function any longer, and no closer to solving the mystery of the switched ad, Ragni walked out of her office six hours later. Since she’d left work at the traditional rush hour rather than her usual seven or eight o’clock departure, she was forced to stand on the L.

The phone blipped its last ring as she opened the door to her apartment. The answering machine light flashed red, demanding her
attention like everything else in her life. She dumped her briefcase, damp clothes, and coat in a pile on the sofa, and went on to her bedroom to change into sweats.

It was no longer raining, but the wind made it feel more like March than June. Finally getting warm in her gray sweats, she put the teakettle on for herbal tea, although coffee sounded far more appealing. She’d recently banned caffeine after five in hopes that she would find her way into deep sleep rather than the sleep-and-start mode she’d been stuck in. What she really wanted was a hot bubble bath to soak out the cold, relax the muscles still tense from the discussion over the Byers ad, and make her forget the hassles of the day.

Leaving early, or rather on regular time, was not the usual “Good old Ragni, she’ll finish it for us no matter how long it takes” modus operandi.

Her list of shoulds had multiplied like dust bunnies on the ride and walk home.

I should call Mother and ask how Dad is.

I should call and cancel the newspaper.

I should ask Susan to water my plants while I’m away.

I should remind James that I won’t be at the committee project meeting.
While the committee was her baby, she’d already warned the other members that she would be gone for three weeks starting June fourteenth—just over three full weeks to enjoy the spa, the view of the lake, and her solitude.
Please, Lord, let me come back myself and not this vile person who’s taken up residence in my skin. I just want my life back.

Cradling her steaming mug of tea between cold hands, she stared at the answering machine. Ignoring it any longer was not an option. She sipped her tea and pressed the button.

“Ragni, call me as soon as you get in.” Click. That was Susan, brief and brusque. Her only and older sister could give a drill sergeant lessons in giving orders.

She deleted that and waited for the second message. The screen said there were four.

“Ragni, I tried your cell. Where are you? We have to talk.”

“All right, all right. Let me hear all my messages first.” She hit erase again. How could she have forgotten her cell phone? It sat in its recharging cradle.

“Call me immediately.”

Ragni sighed and hit erase again. Surely Susan wasn’t the only one in North America trying to get her. A male voice this time.

“Hi, Ragni.”

The sound of his voice made her grimace and ignore the twinge in her heart region. She’d hoped never to hear that voice again. In fact she’d told the owner of that voice not to bother to call, e-mail, write, come by, or make any attempt at communication two months ago after her painstaking decision to dump their two-year relationship— if one could call it that. Dead-end is what she’d decided when Daren had not been able to commit to the wedding they had occasionally discussed. Or the marriage. She finally made the break to get on with her life. All that said, they’d been friends for a long time, and he’d always been a sympathetic ear. Something she desperately needed at the moment.
Ragni!
She almost deleted but for some reason listened through.

“I wanted to tell you my good news. I met a woman, fell in love, and we are getting married next Saturday. Since you and I were friends for so long, I just wanted your smiling presence at my wedding. Call
me and I’ll give you the details. We’re not doing a big wedding—you know how I would hate that. Later.” The click reverberated in her ear.

This time she did stab the Erase button. Repeatedly. The nerve! The beyond-reasoning nerve of the guy. Hadn’t he heard anything she’d said? She felt like pounding both fists on the wall. And perhaps her head. Married! Fell in love!
Yeah, right, Bubba, you got on with your life all right. After swearing that I was ruining yours by cutting off our friendship. The nerve!

Short of calling him and telling him how she really felt, what could she do? The chocolate almond ice cream in the fridge screamed out her name, as did the white package of specialty cookies in her cupboard. The two united in plotting her further decline into fat-hood.

She thought of calling her best friend, Bethany.
After all, isn’t commiserating with you what friends are for?
But then Bethany would give her some line about God’s grace being new every morning. She wouldn’t recognize a real problem if she tripped over it.
I know God’s grace is new every morning. It just doesn’t feel like it lately.

After a sigh she dialed her sister’s number instead. Susan would probably turn up on the other side of the front door any minute if Ragni didn’t call her back. She gritted her teeth and huffed a snarl.
That creep. To think he called to invite me to his wedding.

The phone picked up on the second ring. “’Lo.” Erika’s greeting left plenty to be desired.

“Hey there, sweetie, how are you?”

“I’ll get Mom.” The phone thunked on the table.

So much for any change in that relationship. Another one that bit the dust—and for no reason that Ragni could understand. She and Erika had been great friends from the time her niece was born until
the terrible twelves. Now fourteen, Erika wore only black, an array of chains and metal, clunky boots, and even black lipstick. Goth was the word, an idea that seemed to preclude any family interaction. Even the sight of her made Ragni shudder. The chip on her shoulder the size of Chicago didn’t help either.

Ragni sighed. Being an auntie was, or at least had been, almost as good as being a mother. She jerked her mind back from that track and waited for Susan.

“Just a minute.” Susan’s voice came on and then left.

Ragni could hear her sister telling Erika to get going on her homework and Erika whining that she didn’t have any homework. After all, there were only two more days of school, and why couldn’t her mother leave her alone?

Ragni hated whining. She hated—no, intensely disliked—children who had no regard for anyone but themselves, which at the moment fit Erika better than her skin-tight T-shirts. She’d been such a neat kid. Would that person ever return? Susan didn’t have it easy, that was for sure. Her husband had taken off with another woman, never to be heard from again, over ten years ago.

“Sorry,” Susan said. “Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

“Whatever happened to hi, how was your day?” Ragni knew better than to answer her sister like that, but at this point in her awful day, she didn’t care.

“Sorry”.

Uh-oh, something’s wrong. Susan’s slipping. She doesn’t say sorry
—
and definitely not twice.
“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Just a minute.” Susan covered the receiver and said something to Erika that brought forth an acid response and a slammed door.

Ragni flinched. She knew her sister hated slamming doors. That had been a bone of contention in their growing-up years. When Ragni knew slamming doors bugged her sister, she’d made sure to do so often. Maybe it was a family trait.

“Okay, here’s the problem.” Susan kept her voice low.

Somehow Ragni knew that Susan’s problem was about to become her problem.
Oh, sure. One more chance to fail.

“I am not going anywhere tonight, Susan. I just got home, and I’ve been cold all day, and I’m about to take a long, hot bubble bath. You’d be the first to tell me to go to bed early so I don’t come down with anything.”
You always take care of things. Why are you forcing me to get involved this time?

“I’m sorry, but this is really important.”

Ragni closed her eyes against the tone of Susan’s voice. “Can’t we deal with it over the phone?”
Like we do most of the crises? Whatever you decide to do is fine.
“I just cannot deal with one more thing today.”
Ragnilda Clauson, what is the matter with you?
the voice on her shoulder scolded, worse than her sister.

“Look, we’ll keep it short. I’ll meet you at Mom’s in half an hour.”

“Susan, you haven’t been listening. I am not coming. I am staying here.”
Right here, and soon in my own bed.
Guilt twanged like a stretched guitar string.

“Ragni, our mother called and said she needed to talk with us— tonight. Now, how often does that happen?”

Our mother? Uh-oh, things are bad.
“Is Dad worse?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. She would have said so if that were the case.” Susan’s sigh came over the phone loud and clear. Susan was not a sighing person.

“Then what can be so important?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that Mom has asked for us to come, and we are going to do just that.” She spoke slowly and distinctly as if Ragni were either hard of hearing or slow to understand.

Ragni closed her eyes and tilted her head back and to the sides to pull some of the neck and shoulders tension loose. “Half an hour, and it’d better be short.” She hung up the phone and stomped back to her bedroom.
Now I’ll have to swing by a fast-food place and get something to eat on the way. No wonder I’ve gained weight.

She finished her burger and fries as she pulled into her parents’ driveway. After slugging her purse over her shoulder, she grabbed the trash and her drink and headed for the house.
This better be good
, she thought, then shook her head. In her thirty-two years, she’d learned that nothing good ever came out of emergency meetings. Not that they’d had that many. Both Mom and Susan could win the crown for capability and planning, so they had few surprises in their family.

“How’s Dad?” she asked after their greetings.

“About the same.” Judy Clauson glanced toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I’ve put him to bed, but sometimes he doesn’t stay there.”

“He left the house yesterday. She found him wandering down toward Homer’s.” Susan never tried to soften a blow.

Ragni could picture her father at Homer’s Cafe with all the other oldsters in the area. They’d been meeting there for midmorning coffee
for all the years since he had retired. Sometimes her mom still took him down to join the fellows, and she had coffee by herself in one of the booths. She said it gave her a bit of peace, and he enjoyed it. Up until he hit the belligerent phase several months ago and took a swing at one of the guys.

She turned and gave her mother a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What could you do?” Tonight seemed to be one for sighing. Judy Clauson patted her daughter’s cheek. “That’s not why I wanted to talk with you two.” She dug in her pocket, then glanced over at the table. “Oh, there it is.” Indicating they should all take seats, she handed the letter to Susan first. “Read it aloud, please.” She sank into a chair as if too tired to stand.

While Susan read, Ragni looked at her mother. She was aging while Ragni watched. Her eyes had lost their customary sparkle, and her laughter had left years ago and never returned. The way her pants bagged, she must have lost weight. If not for the heart-shaped face, it would be hard to believe she and her mother were related. Ragni tugged at her snug waistband.

“So, what do you want us to do?” asked Susan.

Ragni jerked her attention back to her sister, guilt digging in for a party. “Let me read it, please? Maybe I’ll get some ideas that way.”
Right, as if you heard what she said when she read it. Pay attention, Ragni!

Dear Mrs. Clauson,

   I’ve been meaning to write for some time but just never got around to it regarding your cabin here on the Little
Missouri. The last couple of winters have been hard on it, and while I’ve covered the hole in the roof with a sheet of plywood, it really needs to be taken care of. Somehow one of the windows broke, too, and I just haven’t gotten around to fixing it. You might consider tearing it down before it collapses. You know I would gladly buy the land from you. Let me know what you decide. It’s been so long since any of you were here that I’m sure this comes as a bit of a surprise.

Sincerely,
Paul Heidelborg

Ragni glanced up at her mother. “This just came?”

“Today.” Judy rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, a habit she’d adopted recently.

“But what’s the rush?”

“I just can’t deal with…with one more thing right now.” She glanced over her shoulder at a noise from down the hall. “I would love to go out there. I haven’t been for so long. But your father wouldn’t do well on a trip like that. He gets restless on the drive to the doctor’s office.” She started to rise, but when Susan put a hand on her arm, she sat back down—on the edge of her chair.

“So we write to this Paul guy and tell him we’ll take care of it as soon as someone can go out there.” Ragni thought that made perfect sense.
After all, what’s the hurry?
She glanced at her mother. Was her chin quivering? She looked about to cry.

“Ragni, think about it. When could we ever go?” Susan shook her
head. “I can’t take time away, not in the foreseeable future. And Mom can’t go, so…” They both looked to Ragni.

No, no way.
She leaned way back in her chair, trying to escape. “I’m going to the spa and then to the shore. Remember, you both talked me into paying a fortune for the spa. You said I need this vacation to get myself back on track.”

“You’ve always wanted to know more about Great-grandmother Ragnilda. This could be your chance.”

“Some other time. I already paid for the spa, and it’s too late to get a refund.” Visions of peace and comfort streaked crossways behind her eyes. Ragni glanced at her mother. The knuckle-rubbing was about to take her skin off. Her mother had always been a worrier, so Ragni and Susan came by it honestly—not that either of them had perfected it to the degree their mother had. Mom could worry that she didn’t have enough to worry about.

She had plenty now.

I have to get over here more often
, Ragni told herself.
No matter how busy I am, she needs more help.

“That cabin is the last thing I have of my family.” The simple statement dropped like a ten-pound rock into a shallow pool.

The splash caught Ragni right between the eyes. She glanced toward her sister, who was staring at their mother.

“I just can’t deal with one more thing now. I’m afraid I…” Her mother brushed a tear away with the back of her hand.

The whisper cut through Ragni like a laser, sparking an internal debate.
You can’t do this now, but you could do it later, like in August. Maybe. Get real. You had to fight for this time off. Deadlines, always
deadlines.
She stared at her mother, shoulders hunched, head bowed, disappearing into herself.
Ragni, grow up! Like you can’t take a few days out to bring some relief here? It’s your family.

“Okay, I’ll come back a couple of days early from the lake and go out there.”
Drive it in one day, find someone to fix things, clean it up, and head back. Four days max. Shame we can’t get her to sell the place to that Paul person and be done with it.
Ragni mentally patted herself on the back for coming up with a viable solution.

“Mother?” The voice from the bedroom sounded lost and weak.

“Coming.” Judy stood and turned with a sigh. “I do wish I could go out there.” She shrugged and headed down the hall.

“One more thing to add to her worry list. She keeps this up and she’s going to worry herself right into the grave.”

“How much longer can she take care of him?”

“It all depends.” Susan drew circles on the tablecloth with a fingernail.

“On?”

“On if he turns into a real wanderer, or he hits her, not that she’d tell me unless he really hurt her. There was an old man last winter who took off in the middle of a snowstorm, and they didn’t find him until the snow melted.”

“Locks on the doors don’t help?” Ragni fought to remain objective.
This is Daddy. Who are we talking about?

Susan shrugged. “The best thing is a locked facility where people are trained in how to handle patients like this.”

“But she refuses.” So like her mother, always taking care of someone.

“For now. I just hope and pray that we can convince her before there is a tragedy. You know how stubborn she can be.”

All the Clauson women seem to share that trait
, Ragni thought,
but I like to think of myself as persistent instead. That sounds much better than bullheaded, pigheaded, or mulish.

Susan picked up the letter. “I just wish she hadn’t gotten this letter now. You know how she’ll worry and stew.”

“Come on, Susan. It’s not that long until I’ll go out there. Not even three weeks.”
Listen, I’m the one going out there at all. Don’t make me feel guilty for not dropping everything tonight for a cabin that’s been sitting there for a hundred years.

Ragni shoved her chair back. “I’ll go say good night. Morning comes far too early these days.” She ignored the family pictures covering the hall walls and paused in the doorway to her parents’ bedroom. Judy was tucking her husband back in bed, murmuring gentle reassurances as if he were a child.

Ragni swallowed the tears that hovered so near the surface whenever she saw her dad lately. “I need to be going.” She crossed the room and stopped beside her mother. “Night, Daddy.”

He peered up at her, then nodded. “You drive careful now, you hear?”

She bent down and kissed his cheek. “That’s what you always say. I love you.” She smiled at his grunt in return. He’d always had a hard time saying those three little words. She patted his hand, gave her mother a hug, and headed out.

Susan was on her cell phone, so Ragni just waved at her and continued on. Judging from the tone, it must be Erika on the line, and
Erika wasn’t happy.
Too bad, Erika. None of us are happy right now. What makes you think you have a line on misery?

Ragni enjoyed three days of massages, ate meals as lovely as they were tasty, floated in scented water, napped in a warm cocoon, and was lavished with a pedicure and a manicure before she checked her messages, having tucked her cell phone into the bottom of a bag so she wouldn’t be tempted. She’d told them at work that she would be incommunicado, but two messages were from James anyway. Five were from Susan—all reiterating how their mother was stewing and fretting about the property. It seemed her mom was irrationally focusing all the emotions and fears of recent years into this one situation. She couldn’t sleep, had a nightmare about the place, and couldn’t Ragni go sooner?

Ragni gave up and dialed her sister’s cell phone, her recently obliterated tension now hiking her shoulders up to her earlobes. “I told you I would deal with this, so pacify her.” Her feelings of guilt at being so hardhearted stabbed her temples. “I’m sorry—surely you can help her understand that I’m going soon.”

“She asks so little of us, isn’t there something you can do?”

“Sure, give up my time at the lake.” The place her father’s illness had never touched: pristine memories of catching fish from sunrise-gilded water, tall stories around a campfire, and nights snuggled in a sleeping bag, listening to the wind singing through the pine trees. Ragni wanted to slam the phone down, but what good would that do? Susan was right. Their mother so rarely asked for help. And she
didn’t need the extra worry right now.
Lord, what am I to do? I need the lake like I needed this spa.
“Let me think about it and see what I can do.”