Page 43 of Courting Catherine
She blew out a long breath that ruffled her bangs. “Because I don’t want to.”
“You’re still angry with me.”
Her eyes, which had begun to heat, went flat. “We settled all that, so there’s no reason to go out on a date.”
“Just dinner,” he said, finding he couldn’t let go. “No one’s calling it a date. One simple meal, as friends, before I go back to Boston.”
“You’re going back?” She felt her heart drop to her knees and turned away to rattle through some tools.
“Yes, I have meetings scheduled for the middle of the week. I’m expected in the office Wednesday afternoon.”
Just like that, she thought as she picked up a pipe wrench and set it down again. I’ve got meetings scheduled, see you later. Sorry I broke your heart. “Well, then, have a nice trip.”
“C.C.” He laid a hand on her arm before she could hide behind the shield again. “I’d like to spend a little time with you. I’d feel a lot better about everything if I was sure we parted on good terms.”
“You want to feel better about things,” she muttered, then made herself relax her jaw. “Sure, why not? Dinner tomorrow night is fine. You deserve a send-off.”
“I appreciate it. Really.” He touched her cheek, started to lean toward her. C.C. pulled the shield down with a snap.
“Better stand back from the torch, Trent,” she said sweetly. “You might get burned.”
Family meetings with the Calhouns were traditionally noisy, argumentative and drenched with tears and laughter. This one was abnormally subdued. Amanda, in her capacity as adviser on finances, sat at the head of the table.
The room was silent.
Suzanna had already put the children to bed. It had been a little easier than usual as both of them had exhausted themselves with Fred—and vice versa.
Trent had excused himself discreetly, directly after dinner. It hardly mattered, C.C. thought. He would know the outcome soon enough.
She was afraid everyone knew it already.
“I guess we all know why we’re here,” Amanda began. “Trent’s going back to Boston on Wednesday, and it would be best all around if we gave him our decision about the house before he left.”
“It would be better if we concentrated on finding the necklace.” Lilah’s stubborn look was offset by the nervous way she twisted the obsidian crystals around her neck.
“We’re all still looking for the papers.” Suzanna laid a hand on Lilah’s arm. “But I think we have to face the reality that finding the necklace could take a long time. Longer than we have.”
“Thirty days is longer than we have.” All eyes turned to Amanda. “I got a notice from the lawyer last week.”
“Last week!” Coco put in. “Stridley contacted you and you didn’t mention it?”
“I was hoping I could get an extension without worrying everyone.” Amanda laid her hand on the file she set on the table. “No deal. We’ve been chipping away at the back taxes, but the hard fact is that we haven’t been making enough headway. The insurance premiums are due. We can make them all right, and the mortgage—for the time being. The utility bills over the winter were higher than usual, and the new furnace and repairs to the roof ate up a lot of our principal.”
C.C. held up a hand. “How bad is it?”
“As bad as it gets.” Amanda rubbed at an ache in her temple. “We could sell off a few more pieces, and keep our head above water. Just. But taxes are due again in a couple months, and we’ll be back where we started.”
“I can sell my pearls,” Coco began, and Lilah cut her off.
“No. Absolutely not. We agreed a long time ago that there were some things that couldn’t be sold. If we’re going to face facts,” she said grimly, “then let’s face them.”
“The plumbing’s shot,” Amanda continued, and had to clear her tightening throat. “If we don’t get the rewiring done, we could end up burning the place down around our ears. Suzanna’s lawyer’s fees—”
“That’s my problem,” Suzanna interrupted.
“That’sourproblem,” Amanda corrected, and got a unanimous note of assent. “We’re a family,” she continued. “We’ve been through the very worst together, and we handled it. Six or seven years ago, it looked as if everything was going to be fine. But... taxes have gone up, along with the insurance, the repairs, everything. It’s not as though we’re paupers, but the house eats up every cent of spare cash, and then some. If I thought we could weather this, hang in for another year or two, I’d say sell the Limoges, or a few antiques. But it’s like trying to plug a hole in a dam and watching others spring out while your fingers are slipping.”
“What are you saying, Mandy?” C.C. asked her.
