A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series (14 page)

“You’ve lost everything? What does that mean?”

Izzy stared at her brother, unable to process what he was telling her.

“Just what it sounds like. I’m broke.”

Since Izzy hadn’t wanted to talk in front of their mother, and Brandon refused to stand on the porch in case the suited repo man returned, they were left in the backyard, sitting in white plastic chairs coated in sunbaked dirt. Brandon had tried to dust his off before he sat, but it was useless.

“How can you be broke?” This was Brandon, the man with three cars and the upscale condo. The man who drank his Starbucks every morning while he checked his investments on his iPhone. “I don’t understand.”

He pushed back against his chair, raking his fingers through his dark hair. “I made a mistake.”

“A mistake? How can you lose everything on one mistake?”

“It was a big mistake.” He sighed, but it sounded more like the groan of a dying animal. “It was a Bernie Madoff-size mistake.”

Izzy gasped. “Brandon, you didn’t—”

“No, of course not.” He waved her words away. “I’m not like Bernie. I’m like the guy he ripped off.”

Relief was instantly followed by fear for her brother. His impulsive decisions had finally caught up with him. Then the pieces began falling into place.

“That’s why you changed your phone number. So the creditors can’t find you.”

He nodded.

“What about last night? You had a bet on the game, didn’t you?”

He nodded again.

Izzy shook her head in disbelief. “If you’ve lost everything, why did you waste your money gambling?”

“Do you have any idea what the odds were on that game? If my team had won, I would have made a nice chunk of change.” He sighed. “It was a chance to move in the right direction and I took it.”

“It was a foolish risk and you lost.”

“I know. You don’t have to remind me.”

“What about the Coop? That’s why you wanted to park it here, isn’t it? You’re hiding it.” She leaned forward, fists on her knees. “You’ve made me an accomplice.”

He scowled at her. “An accomplice to what? All I did was park my car here. There’s nothing illegal about that.”

Izzy wasn’t entirely sure if there was or there wasn’t, but it felt all wrong. “You can’t run from this, Brandon. If you do, it’ll only get worse.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He shot to his feet, hands cutting the air. “They want to take everything I have.”

“Do you owe it to them?” She took his silent stare as an affirmative. “You have to make it right. Face it and deal with it.”

His shoulders sagged; his head dropped. “I’ll have to start over. I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Of course you can.” Izzy stood up and put her arm around his waist. “You started from nothing once. You can do it again.”

Resting his chin on her head, he squeezed her to his side. “You’re a great cheerleader, Sis. I should have you around more often.”

“Whenever you need it, Brother, I’m here for you. You’re not alone.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. Stay with me while I tell Mom.”

As they walked back inside, Izzy couldn’t help but wonder, if the shine began to dim on the golden boy, would that make Izzy seem any brighter in their mother’s eyes?

15

W
hen Izzy promised to be there for her brother, having him move into her house wasn’t what she had in mind. But when Brandon showed up the next morning with three suitcases and a garment bag—what he claimed to be all he had left in the world—she couldn’t turn him away. And while they figured out where he would sleep and how to accommodate two guests in her small two-bedroom home, she thought of a way to use his predicament to her advantage.

“You want me to babysit Mom?”

“Not babysit.” Izzy lowered her voice, hoping to work out the details without their mother hearing. “Someone needs to be here with her during the week while I’m at school. I was going to see if I could find somebody at church to hire, but since you’re here, the problem is solved.”

“I can’t just stay here all day. I have to work on getting my life back.”

“And you will.” She stuffed a pillow into a clean case and tossed it to him. “But it’s not going to kill you to take some time to think things through. While you’re here, you can
consider all your options, work out a plan, do research on the Internet.”

“And help Mom get back and forth to the bathroom.” He punched the pillow and dropped it on the couch.

“Yes. But don’t worry. It’s not that bad.” The bell sounded in the guest bedroom and Bogie ran around the corner, yapping. Izzy flinched. “Besides, it’s only for three weeks. Then I’ll be on Christmas break and you’ll be off the hook.”

“I don’t know …”

Izzy shrugged. “Or you could stay at Mom’s place. You’d have it all to yourself since she’s here.”

Brandon shook his head. “No, it’s too far out of the way.”

Since he was jobless and planning on accessing the Internet for much of his future work, Izzy didn’t know what their mom’s house was too far away from. “Those are your choices. Pick one.”

She could see his wheels turning as he weighed his options. If he was as broke as he claimed to be, he didn’t have many. Which made it easier for him to come to a decision.

“I only have to sit with her for three weeks? Then you’ll take over?”

“Yes.”

“OK. I’ll do it.”

The bell pealed again. Bogie barked louder and began trotting in circles. Brandon looked toward the hall. “How often does this happen?”

“You mean the bell and the dog? All day.” She grinned at him, then picked the pillow back up. “You get the couch at night, but during the day, this is her spot.” She laid it on top of a stack of folded sheets and blankets on the chair. “It’s not five star, but at least it’s free.”

The bell rang again, accompanied by their mother yelling something about her bladder being close to exploding. Brandon
cringed. “Nothing’s free in this world, little sister. I can see I’m going to earn my keep.”

She headed down the hall, smiling to herself. He had no idea.

Izzy expected her first day back at work to be rocky, but it went better than expected. Brandon surprised her by having coffee ready in the morning before she left. Her students welcomed her back from vacation with an array of preliminary sketches for their self-portraits. And she was able to go straight from work to the Y in order to sneak in some water aerobics before heading home and taking on the evening shift with Mom.

Moving her arms slowly through the warm water of the indoor pool, Izzy closed her eyes and concentrated on the biggest loose end in her life: the Wild Goose Chase quilt. Mom and Brandon had gotten along fine with Max and Virgil on Thanksgiving Day. Was it too much to hope that they’d have a change of heart and let her loan the quilt to the museum without a fuss?

She blew out a deep breath and began doing partial squats in the water, just enough to work her knee joints. Yes, it was too much to hope for. Especially now that Brandon’s bank accounts were zeroed out and he was starting back at square one. He hadn’t mentioned the quilt since he moved in, but that was only because he’d been preoccupied. The minute she dared bring it up, his make-a-buck radar would switch on again. For now, the quilt needed to stay safely locked away in her closet.

But what about the documentation Max was looking for? Even if she were able to get around her family and actually loan
the quilt to Max, he still needed the diaries Gran had told him about. Where would she have hidden them?

Moving side to side in the pool, feeling the gentle resistance of the water, Izzy went over all the places Gran could possibly have stashed important books or papers. They hadn’t been in her room at Vibrant Vistas, which left only the house. There weren’t many options there. If Izzy just started looking, examining every possible location, she would have to stumble across them eventually. Unless Gran had given them to someone else to hold for her. But it made much more sense that she’d left them somewhere Izzy—and by extension, Max—could get to.

After a few more stretches, she moved to the side of the pool and climbed out on the stairs. Placing her feet gingerly so as not to slip on the wet tile, she walked to the benches against the wall and grabbed her towel. Drying off her arms and legs, she thought about Max. Maybe she should give him a call. Maybe he’d have some idea where she should start looking.

Across the room, the door from the men’s locker room opened. Two men walked through. One, in shorts and a logoed polo shirt, was obviously a YMCA employee. The other wore a trench coat over his suit. Izzy couldn’t understand what they were talking about, but the second she heard the suited man’s voice, she recognized it.

Shocked that the person she’d just been thinking about had appeared in the pool area, his name left her lips before she could stop it. “Max?”

He turned around and looked in her direction. She raised her hand in a wave, and his eyebrows lifted. “Izzy?”

As soon as his eyes landed on her, she wondered what had possessed her to get his attention while she was wearing a swimsuit. Even though the one-piece was modest by anybody’s standards, she wrapped her towel tightly around her as he moved in her direction.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said. “How are things going with your mother?”

“Fine. Brandon’s with her now.”

“Glad to hear he’s pitching in.”

She tried to ignore the rivulet of water that rolled from her forehead to her nose and off the tip. “He doesn’t have much choice.”

Max grinned. “Are you blackmailing him?”

“It’s a long story. But let’s just say I have leverage.” Izzy gripped the towel tighter as more water ran from her hair and down her back, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t keep you here talking while you’re dripping wet.” He glanced over his shoulder at the YMCA employee, then back at Izzy. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

She thought that she probably shouldn’t stay away from home any longer than necessary. However, another half hour or so wouldn’t kill Brandon. Coffee sounded good. Coffee with Max sounded better. “Sure. There’s a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on the corner of Foothill and Myrtle. Is that OK?”

“Sounds good. I just have to wrap up this meeting first.”

“No problem. I have to put on dry clothes first.”

“That’s a good idea.” Max laughed and reached out as if he were going to pat her on the shoulder. But he stopped before making contact and pulled his hand back. “I’ll see you there.”

As she made her way down the tiled hall to the women’s locker room, Izzy contemplated the bizarreness of running into Max Logan at the YMCA swimming pool. It seemed destiny was determined to throw the two of them together. And this time, Gran had nothing to do with it.

16

M
ax glanced at the time display on the car radio as he pulled into the parking lot of the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. The meeting at the Y had taken a little longer than he had planned. He just hoped Izzy was still waiting for him.

The place was crowded but he saw her sitting at a small table against the back wall with her coffee in front of her. He raised a finger in greeting. She smiled and motioned for him to get his coffee. As he moved into the line, the warmth of familiarity spread through his chest. It was so easy with her. Even when no words were spoken, they had a connection. And he’d only known her for a little over a week.

He must be losing his mind.

Five minutes later, he draped his coat over the back of the chair and sat down across from her. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“No problem. Can I ask what you were doing at the Y? Thinking of joining?”

If it meant getting to see her in a bathing suit more often, he’d join in a heartbeat. “No. We’re working out the details for
some summer camp programs at the museum. Field-trip-type things.”

“Really?” She sat up a little taller, eyes sparkling. “I lead an art camp there during the summer.”

“No kidding? Is that what you teach? Art?”

She nodded. “At First Christian High. The kids keep me on my toes.”

“Is that why you needed a workout after school? Blowing off some steam?”

“Not exactly.” She looked down at her cup, running her finger around the rim of the white plastic lid. “I need the exercise for health reasons.”

Max wanted to know more but wasn’t sure he should ask. Was it too personal? Too much too soon? But her mother’s words came back to him and he couldn’t help himself. “Does it have anything to do with your dancing?”

He recognized a flash of pain when her eyes met his, but then it was gone. She raised her cup, took a drink. “Yes. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis when I was eighteen. That pretty much killed my dancing career.” One corner of her mouth crooked up. “Mom’s never forgiven me for it.”

Had he heard correctly? “She can’t be upset with you for being sick.”

“Sure she can. She had big plans for me.”

At that moment, Max wanted to drive right over to Izzy’s house and shake some sense into her mother. Instead, he cradled his coffee cup in his hands, leaning closer to the table. “What about your plans?”