Jorja & Malcolm (Toffee Kisses Book 1) Read online

  Amanda walked over to her family and let out a big breath. She said, “I’m done; let’s get out of here.”

  Before either parent could stop her, Sasha ran over to Betty Boothe and said, “Shoo! I mean it!”

  Betty Boothe not only shooed; she got in her very important car with her very important sign and made a U-turn. As she headed up the hill, she accelerated. Her tires made a screeching sound that startled some seagulls that were feasting on left over fries. The birds flew up in the air, re-arranged themselves, and then settled on the ground again.

  The Sinclair family was still feeling quite unsettled.

  “Well, at least you didn’t swear, Hon,” said Dustin reassuringly.

  “Or smack her into next Wednesday!” Maisy reasoned.

  “I know,” Amanda said, “But I was so excited to be looking at a house today. Now I’ve rather crushed that opportunity.”

  “We could go look at flowers!” Sasha suggested.

  “We could indeed!” Amanda said happily.

  “Why don’t we just go knock on the door of that house up there?” Maisy asked.

  Her parents thought this over.

  “Let’s do it!” Dustin exclaimed, “And then we’ll go to the flower shop and buy the prettiest bouquet there!”

  Sasha let out a loud “Whoo- hoo!”

  Maisy elbowed her Sister and said, “Heah, that’s my line; you’re supposed to go moo-moo.”

  “Don’t have to if I don’t want to.”

  “Yes you do, you’re the cow not me.”

  “I can say Whoo-hoo if I want to.”

  “No you can’t!”

  “Yes I can!”

  Amanda stopped walking. “Girls!” she said firmly.

  “We know,” they said, “CAN IT!”

  The whole family began to giggle as they started walking up the stairs to the house with the big ‘For Sale’ sign.

  Later that afternoon, Jorja was giggling as she sat in a booth at the Bistro. She was reading the jokes in the free paper while she was waiting for Malcolm.

  “Would a business man who started a composting business be called an entremanure?” Jorja read aloud.

  “Oh, that’s a real groaner,” Malcolm said as he slid into the booth beside her.

  Jorja put her paper down and pointed to the empty seat across the table.

  “Are we expecting company?” she asked.

  “No, but just in case that balcony climbing person shows up; I thought I’d sit beside you first.” Malcolm smiled and gave Jorja a quick hug.

  “We’ve got a lot to talk about and I don’t want anybody distracting us!” he added.

  “So that would include a certain prune Danish bearing waitress?” Jorja asked, while bringing a little notebook out of her purse.

  Malcolm shrugged. “Okay,” he said, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. “Now, down to business! Are those the minutes from the last meeting of the Giant Squid Detective Agency?”

  “Um, sure,” said Jorja. “Let me just write them out. Let’s see, we decided to detect things and do nothing about them.”

  She drew a large magnifying glass in her notebook, then an “O” with a slash through it. Malcolm took the book from her and added an unhappy face.

  Jorja then drew a question mark.

  Malcolm started to draw a telephone, but then said, “Wait, we can talk. We could just use our words, you know?” Malcolm said.

  “Or we could try a mind meld!” Jorja said as she put her hand up to Malcolm’s temple. She spread out her fingers under his eye and against his nose. She closed her eyes tightly.

  “Is it working?” Malcolm whispered.

  “I think so,” she said, “Because of your horrible cousin you can’t bear the thought of someone going unpunished.”

  “Pretty good!”

  “Wait, I’m getting something else. Jorja needs to take life more seriously and… and…”

  Malcolm took her hand down from his temple, and said softly, “Never ever quit have such joie de vivre!”

  “Well isn’t this cozy!” Jesse Spelunker’s voice boomed. “I guess you’re not brother and sister after all!”

  Jorja reluctantly opened her eyes and thrust out her arm.

  “OUT!” she yelled.

  Malcolm was surprised, but quickly imitated Jorja’s action.

  “You heard the lady,” he yelled, “OUT!”

  When Jesse left the restaurant, Malcolm put his palms out to Jorja. “What?” he said.

  “Long story. Dad and Mom and I may or may not have thrown him down the stairs when he dared to come to our house yesterday morning. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Malcolm nodded. “Do you feel like talking about your adoption news?” he asked.

  “And!” Jorja exclaimed, “He was such an idiot, he not only stole your flowers but he pushed them through the pet door! But I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Duly noted. Shall we order brunch and not talk about something else?”

  “Plus, he had the nerve, the nerve to tell me I needed Botox! Plus hair extensions. Plus leg-lengthening!” Jorja crossed her arms. “He was such a jerk to me at the Art Gallery.”

  “He shall evermore be known as Jesse the jerk!” Malcolm pronounced.

  Jorja looked up at Malcolm. “Look, I’m sorry; I keep bubbling over about me. I want to hear about you. I really want to be a good friend. Even though my Mom told me recently I am so broke I can’t even pay attention; I’m going to try. I even brought this notebook to take notes in. So, what’s new with you?”

  “I’m currently in jail,” Malcolm said sadly.

  Chapter Seven:

  Or what’s in a name?

  “I’m currently in jail,” Malcolm repeated.

  Jorja drew a bald man, with a striped shirt, gripping the rings of the binding of her little notebook.

  “I phoned my Aunt and Uncle the other day, you know, my de facto parents,” Malcolm said as he tapped his chin. “Here I was thinking, like any set of good parents they were probably concerned about my welfare, no matter what had gone on in the past; namely their number one Son demolishing my life? I thought we could have a reasonable conversation as I really am grateful that they took me in after my parents died, and maybe even get together for coffee.” Malcolm stopped and shook his head.

  Jorja drew a coffee cup with a big heart in the steam.

  “My aunt actually screamed at me on the phone and then my uncle took over. As you know, my cousin stole my identity years ago. Unbeknownst to me, he decided to do it again! They said I had ‘some nerve closing all my commercial and personal accounts’ because when Steve tried to cash cheques and get credit again, he was charged with fraud. Jorja, my aunt and uncle were actually angry with me for closing the accounts years ago; apparently I should have told them! There I was working my butt off, making restitution for his larceny, and Steve didn’t learn a damn thing. Not only was he trying to swindle creditors again, he is still using my name!”

  Jorja raised her eyebrows. She dug out her change purse and held it out to Malcolm. He dug out a quarter and dropped it in. Jorja shook the change purse again.

  “I have a feeling this may be a multi-swear conversation,” she said, “Which is not a bad thing; our Detective Agency has already reached solvency with the first quarter. But Malcolm, I thought your aunt and uncle were loaded?”

  “That’s the almost funny part of this whole situation! They wanted Steve to ‘make his own way’ in life and so encouraged him strongly to move out and get a real job. They had finally realized that cleaning the pool once a week in exchange for living in their carriage house doesn’t really set one up with life skills. I learned all this from Uncle Marty as he yelled at me that I had screwed up Steve’s chance at independence!”

  Malcolm heaved a big sigh. “So Steve is sitting in jail in the mainland; and get this, my aunt and uncle feel that I should post his bail because, in their warped logic I’m directly responsible. No, no, let
me amend that, Malcolm Newsome is sitting in jail. Again.”

  Jorja wiped the corner of her eye. “New mascara,” she said.

  The waitress came by with their meal. She looked at both faces, and said encouragingly, “Cheer up! Things could be worse; you could be in jail!”

  Jorja and Malcolm started laughing so suddenly, that the waitress bowed and happily went on to the next table.

  “I know I said I’d listen,” Jorja said while liberally peppering her omelet with hot sauce,” but I do have a quick fix to this whole situation.”

  “Do tell?”

  “You could change your name! Since you’re the one to blame for everything, all you need to do is change your entire life! Start with your name first…” Jorja tapped her nose. “How about Thor?” she asked brightly.

  Malcolm closed his eyes. He opened his eyes, and twirled his fork. “I’m rather partial to Thurston Howell the fourth,” he said.

  “Accepted.” Jorja said. “Now about the rest of your life thing…”

  “I can’t think that long term…for today, I want to report that cat burglar,” said Malcolm.

  Jorja nodded vigorously. “Any theft of a cat is a heinous crime!” she said forcefully, while thinking of how Miss Stein would seriously miss Conrad.

  Malcolm smiled reluctantly. “I know you know that I am not talking about felony of a feline, dear Jorja. We have to find that Escher sketch, return it and report Jesse the Jerk. Then I can finally sleep at night.”

  “And finally returning to day shift is going to help immensely too,” Jorja added.

  The not as yet a couple sat and ate in silence for a few minutes. Both were lost in thought about the recent twists and turns their respective lives had taken. Jorja broke the amiable silence.

  “You know, my Grandma Connelly, for all her faults, was a pretty wise woman. In a situation such as this she would say something like ‘don’t borrow trouble, before trouble borrows you’. The theft of the artwork isn`t really affecting us but turning Jesse the Jerk into the police may well cause us problems.”

  “It’s the right thing to do Jorja.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Jorja said sadly as she swallowed the last of her coffee. “I’m not really up to mapping out my life now, vis-à-vis my adoption, so my Grandma had another saying…”

  Malcolm interrupted, “Excellent use of a preposition, Jorja! You get 50 bonus points plus a chance to win a new washer and dryer!”

  It was Jorja’s turn to smile reluctantly. “So, Grandma had another saying, namely: ‘The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others’. I think we should head on down to the Glenrosa Nursing Home and hang out with some of the Residents there.”

  Malcolm gave a small round of applause. “A grand idea, Jorja! I’ll grab the bill and you can grab Periwinkle and bring her around to the front of the Bistro. On the way to the Nursing Home we can discuss the sayings of Mahatma Gandhi and the likelihood of your Grandmother knowing she was quoting him.”

  ***

  “Say, I know this little cow!” Jenny said happily as she opened her front door.

  Sasha smiled up at her.

  “I want to buy a house!” Sasha said as she walked in and climbed up on the high stool at the breakfast table.

  Jenny smiled as she continued to look out the door. “I simply adore a cow with goals; but say, is the rest of the herd with you?” she asked.

  “We met a mean woman and we got rid of her fast. We didn’t even need a spear gun,” Sasha explained.

  Jenny walked out to the porch just as Amanda, standing at the next door neighbor’s house, yelled out “Sasha, Sasha, where are you honey?”

  “She’s over here, Amanda; come on over for a coffee! Nobody’s home there, but I can tell you about the house.”

  After the rest of the Sinclairs were settled in the kitchen, and coffee and juice poured, Amanda explained about the nasty Realtor.

  “If Dustin hadn’t been with me,” she said as she warmly looked at her husband, “I don’t know what I would have done! The old Amanda would probably have called her a few choice names!”

  Maisy nodded and said, “Daddy was right, Realtors are dangerous!”

  Dustin chuckled at his daughters’ serious pronouncement. “Well, not all Realtors, Maisy, but really, Jenny, this Betty Boothe was something else again! She nearly ran over Sasha…”

  At this point, the group as one turned and looked at the other little girl. Sasha had her face in the orange flowers and appeared to be softly whispering to each petal of the chrysanthemum.

  Dustin continued, “And then she was so incredibly rude! As much as I wanted to look at the house, I fully supported Amanda’s decision to fire her on the spot!”

  Jenny put her head in her hands. “Oh Betty Boothe,” she said. “She is without a doubt one of the most persistent, rudest and the meanest person I have ever met. Over the years, she has approached Crawford and I dozens of times to sell our home. Each time we tell her, with ever increasing loudness, we are not interested in selling!”

  Amanda sipped her coffee appreciatively. “I got the impression that she never takes no for an answer!”

  “Yeah, I guess she has ignored our ‘No’ for years. But back to our neighbors; as you know, homes in this area rarely come up for sale. This is the old town site originally founded by my parents, actually,” Jenny said proudly.

  “Your parents were the Connelly’s?” Dustin asked. “I knew of them; my parents are full of stories about their generosity.”

  Crawford came into the kitchen and poured himself a coffee after refilling the other mugs. “Yup; they were a very generous couple. We inherited this house from them, and we love it. Mind you, we’ve added bits and pieces onto it over the years to make it our own.”

  “And we modernized it quite a bit!” Jenny leaned forward and tapped Amanda on the arm. “Nothing says home like an ensuite! Remember that!”

  Crawford nodded. “The house next door, though, is pretty much the same as when it was built. Old Mr. & Mrs. Carrington lived there well before we moved in here…and they were old then. She died some years ago, and Harold, that’s Mr. Carrington, did the best he could to keep up with the gardens; but eventually, had a fall and his daughter had to move him into a Care Home.”

  “Poor Darla,” Jenny continued, “She is such a wonderful daughter. She did everything for her parents while her two brothers rarely lifted a finger! And no sooner had Harold been moved into the Care Home, there was Betty Boothe, listing agreement in her hand!” Jenny said sadly, “I was hoping Darla would be able to move-in, but her brothers wanted their share of the sale of the house. Can you imagine? I was more devastated for Darla than she was for herself.”

  “Does it still have knob and tube wiring?” Sasha asked while still standing by the flower pot.

  Jenny chuckled. “The girls watch a lot of home improvement shows while I’m doing paperwork,” she explained.

  “And absorb quite a bit of it too!” Dustin said proudly. “Good question Sasha!”

  “That’s another reason why I don’t like Betty Boothe!” Jenny said.

  “She has knob and tube wiring?” Maisy asked perplexed.

  “No, she told Darla that she could just sell the house as is; but Darla insisted on bringing it up to code. She told Betty Boothe the property disclosure would not be legal if she wasn’t honest about the wiring. Plus, it was a potential fire hazard! And you know what Betty Boothe said?” Jenny asked.

  The little girls said with one voice, “What did she say?”

  “What they don’t know won’t hurt them!”

  Dustin was outraged! “That’s a bold face lie! Old wiring like that could easily result in a fire! What if a family bought the home and…I can’t even think of it!” he said as he hugged his family.

  Amanda shuddered. “You said the house is the same as when it was built; did Darla do any upgrading?”

  “Well, she did, much to Betty Boothe’s dismay,” Jenny bega
n, but then the twins started giggling.

  “Betty Boothe, Betty Boothe, wee little bittle Betty Boothe,” Maisy sang.

  “Looks kind of funny with her snaggly tooth,” Sasha added.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “I don’t actually know these children,” she said as Dustin laughed.

  Crawford rubbed his chin. “So you wouldn’t know if they want to look at kittens?”

  Both girls stopped rhyming and started looking around the kitchen.

  “We love kittens!” they said.

  Crawford and Dustin and the girls went over to the corner of the kitchen and admired the sleeping kittens.

  “They’re so new, their eyes are still closed; we can’t pick them up yet,” Crawford said, “but you can come back when they’re older and play with them.”

  Both girls looked up at their Dad. “Can we?” they whispered. Dustin nodded and they all tiptoed back to the table where the wiring discussion was well underway.

  “What a clever woman!” Amanda exclaimed and caught her family up to date. “So although she had signed with the Realtor, Darla didn’t trust her and didn’t want to do business with her, so she made sure the repairs took a full three months to coincide with the expiry of the listing! Brava Darla!” she exclaimed.

  Jenny leaned forward and said, “Not only that, but the listing expired last week without Betty Boothe even showing the house once! She had no right to even show you the house today!”

  Crawford made a sudden detour to the sideboard and plucked a key out of a china dish. He held it up as he said happily, “But we can! Darla said to show the house to anyone who asked to see it!”

  Everyone cheered and went outside.

  Much to their surprise, they found the Realtor carrying her large sign to her car parked at the back door of Darla’s house.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” she said haughtily, “But I’m just taking the sign for some repairs.” She roughly shoved the sign in the trunk and drove away.

  Dustin raised his eyebrows and sang “Betty Boothe, Betty Boothe, don’t know how to tell the truth!”

  On the mainland, another man was thinking about the truth. The man had formerly been called Pastor and now wore a label saying “Hi, I’m Bob!” All day, he would direct customers to the hardware department, or the lighting department or, more often than not, the painting department which was directly in front of them.