Stagestruck. Shelley Peterson

asked a sugary sweet, little-girl voice. Abby clenched her teeth. She didn’t have to look around to know who was standing behind her. The strong smell of cheap perfume almost made her gag.

      “Hey, Pam. What’s up?”

      “Just wondering who you’re going out with now. I mean everybody knows it’s not Sam.”

      “What?” asked Abby angrily, turning to face her.

      Pam Masters put her hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I upset you? I just wanted to know.”

      “Pam, I’ll tell you what I know. I know that whenever you say anything to me, it’s to make me feel bad. It’s been like that since public school.”

      “So sorry.” Pam made a good effort at looking sheepish, but Abby could see that her mission had been accomplished. She’d pressed a button. She’d gotten a reaction from Abby and confirmed her suspicions. Now she knew how Abby felt about Sam. Is it so obvious? Is that the gossip? Abby blushed, horrified that people were talking about her. When will I ever learn to keep my temper? she asked herself, turning back to the locker.

      “What did she want?” asked another voice, this one friendly.

      “Leslie!” said Abby with real warmth in her voice. She hugged her friend. “One day I’m going to murder Pam.”

      “What did she say to you? Your face fell to the floor.”

      “Oh, nothing. Just about Sam.”

      “Hmm. You know I’m not getting in the middle because he’s my brother and everything, but I did some digging on the weekend. He isn’t seeing anyone right now, I’m positive.”

      “Leslie, it’s over. It’s been over for ages. I shouldn’t have said anything. And I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were going to ask him.”

      “But you were so good together. And I didn’t ask him! I just listened to his phone calls.”

      “His phone calls? You’re crazy! You picked up the extension?”

      “Easy peasy. I heard him tell Jon he wasn’t dating anyone. With my own ears.”

      Against her better judgment Abby considered this piece of news. Then she looked intently at Leslie. “Leslie, listen to me. Sam and I are finished. Read my lips. I wouldn’t go out with him if he begged me, not after the way he dumped me.”

      “He didn’t dump you, Abby, and you know it.”

      “Okay, then, he didn’t dump me. He just stopped asking me out and started avoiding me.”

      Books in order, Abby snapped the lock back into place, and the two girls walked down the hall to their first class. There was so much noise that their conversation had to be postponed. Cheerful banter, heels thumping on tiles, locker doors banging, books crashing to the floor, all mixed together to create a boisterous Monday morning cacophony.

      “Hey, Abby! Hey, Leslie!” called out Lucy, going the other direction.

      “See you after second class?” Lucy bellowed. “We have to talk!”

      “Who? Me?” yelled Abby.

      “Yes!” Lucy was swept away with the flow of students, leaving Abby wondering what she wanted to tell her. Her brow furrowed. It was likely more gossip about Sam. She didn’t want to hear it.

      That morning, Christine James was on the phone in her home office.

      “Is Mr. LeFarge there, please?”

      “Speaking.”

      “Gus? It’s Christine James calling.”

      “Hello, Christine. How can I help?”

      “My client, Joy Featherstone, would like to put in an offer on the Wick property.”

      “Your mother? You must be kidding. She’s seen it?”

      “Yesterday afternoon. You left the key for me, remember?”

      “Sure I do, I just didn’t know it was for your mother. Excuse my surprise, Christine, but this is the first offer in three years.”

      “Then it must be good news. Shall I stop by in an hour?”

      “Well, just to warn you, there’s a first refusal on it.”

      Christine paused, startled. “Usually, out of courtesy, that would have been mentioned when I asked for a viewing.”

      “Quite right. Quite right. An oversight. I didn’t think Mrs. Featherstone would be interested, nobody else has ever been. I’m very sorry.”

      “No problem. How would you like to proceed?”

      “Well, why don’t you drop by? I’ll look at the offer, check back with the gentleman who has the first refusal, and call my client. We can go from there.”

      “You’re not going to make this into an auction, are you, Gus?”

      Gus LeFarge snorted. “Mr. Wick deserves the best price, and with a first refusal on the property, is there another way to do this?”

      Christine hung up the phone. Who had the first refusal? She shrugged. There’s always something. She returned to the stack of papers on her desk, sorting out which items of business required her immediate attention, and which could wait. The phone rang.

      “Hello. Christine James speaking.”

      “Hello, Mrs. James. I want to know what my house is worth.”

      “Certainly. I’ll come out and give you an evaluation. What is your name, please?”

      “Gladys Forsyth.”

      “And where do you live?”

      “Right beside Samuel Owens’ place. I’ve got an acre. It’s a small house. My name’s not on the mailbox, but you can’t miss it. It’s the first lane past the Owens’ big black gates.”

      “Is there any time that would be convenient for you?”

      “I’ll be here all day. You know why I’m calling?”

      Christine took the bait. “To get your house evaluated?”

      “Yes, but, strange thing. You know LeFarge Realty?”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “Some young man called me from LeFarge Realty and offered me cash for my house. I would’ve taken it, but my son told me to check it out. You’re the first real estate agent I saw in the Yellow Pages, so that’s why I called.”

      “It’s always a good idea to get a second opinion.”

      “That’s just what my son says.”

      “Well, Gladys, I’ve got to make a trip close by anyway, so why don’t we say eleven thirty or twelve?”

      “Any time you get here is swell.”

      Christine hung up. She knew exactly where Gladys lived. The shack. Old car carcasses, rusted metal junk, and cats. Dozens of cats. Off the top of her head she couldn’t think of who would be putting in an offer. She took the price of an acre of land in Caledon, then multiplied it by six because a severed acre with hydro and sewage was worth that much more. Since the house was worth nothing, she planned to give that base figure as her estimate.

      She checked her watch. She’d have to leave soon. Hilary came into her study, followed by Pepper.

      “Hi, Mom. Busy?”

      “Never too busy to talk to you.”

      “I brought you a coffee.”

      “Wonderful. I’ve got just enough time for a coffee, then I’ve got to go.”

      “What are you doing?”