crowd, and his knowledge of the wilderness was a little too “real” for the tourists’ neatly tailored bird-watching trips. Still, somehow he was keeping body and soul together.
“Who you with, Rena?” Dee Dee squinted her eyes as she tried to make us out, a note of suspicion lingering in her voice.
“These are my friends Izzy McHale and Sean Tucker.”
“McHale? You related to Edie and Clem McHale who taught there at Eisenhower High?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m their second daughter.”
“Oh, well then. I had your folks in high school. Never really took to your dad’s history class, but he was a nice man. And your mom let us write poetry in English. Didn’t even care if it rhymed. Good people.”
Apparently the goodness of my parents gave me, too, a patina of goodness. At least in Dee Dee Lahti’s eyes.
“Well, come on over here so I can meet all those dogs you got.” Dee Dee didn’t put the shotgun down, but she did tuck it under her arm. I led the way as the three of us walked our menagerie over to meet Dee Dee.
As soon as the dogs got close, Dee Dee dropped to her knees in the dirt and began loving on all four animals, laughing like a rusty hinge on a windy day as the pooches licked her face and bonked their heads into her hands.
“Why don’t you all come inside while I get some treats for your fur babies?”
I still hadn’t figured out what Dee Dee was doing at the construction site, so I had no idea what to expect when I climbed the steps into the giant trailer. Still, I was surprised at what I found: an office space, neat as a pin, complete with architectural drawings andwhiteboards lining the walls. The only flaw in the otherwise perfect little office space was an ashtray overflowing with Dee Dee’s cigarette butts. The air was heavy with the dueling scents of the smoke and a lemon air freshener.
We piled into the trailer, four people and four dogs, and Dee Dee waved toward the tan twill sofa to indicate that we should have a seat.
She made her way around one of the desks, plopped into the chair, and dug through a drawer for a handful of dog treats for our critters. It was only then that I saw Dee Dee’s dog, a Shih Tzu with flowing auburn and white hair. The dog was perched on a purple velvet pillow resting on top of the desk. Next to the pillow, there was a china plate with what appeared to be scrambled eggs and sautéed chicken livers. This was one pampered pooch.
Dee Dee must have tracked my attention. “This is Pumpkin. She’s mama’s special baby, isn’t that right, Punky-kins?”
“She’s beautiful.”
“So what are you three doing out here again?”
Rena, sitting on the arm of the sofa, jumped in. “Just taking a walk. Trendy Tails opens late on Sundays, so we thought we’d take advantage of the beautiful weather and give the dogs some exercise.”
“You’re really not supposed to trespass on the work site.”
“Sorry about that. Curiosity just got the better of us. We’ve heard so much about the development that we wanted to see how it was coming along.”
Rena sounded so casual. Technically, she wasn’t lying, but she certainly wasn’t telling the whole truth. Personally, I’m completely transparent. I can’t lie to save my life. But Rena was born with a streak of grifter in her soul, and she could sweet-talk the devil.
“What about you?” she asked. “You working on the site?”
Dee Dee drew herself up proudly. “Yes. I’m working the office here. I answer the phones, take lunch orders, that sort of thing. It’s not a glamorous job,” she said, her sly smile suggesting otherwise, “but I’ve got my foot in the door now. Figure if I do a good job, maybe I can get Mr. Olson to hire me out at the RV lot. That’s why I’m in today. Get some files tidied up so Mr. Olson can see what a hard worker I am.”
For Dee Dee, who lacked some basic social skills and bordered on mental illness, this position at the work site probably represented a huge
“Who you with, Rena?” Dee Dee squinted her eyes as she tried to make us out, a note of suspicion lingering in her voice.
“These are my friends Izzy McHale and Sean Tucker.”
“McHale? You related to Edie and Clem McHale who taught there at Eisenhower High?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m their second daughter.”
“Oh, well then. I had your folks in high school. Never really took to your dad’s history class, but he was a nice man. And your mom let us write poetry in English. Didn’t even care if it rhymed. Good people.”
Apparently the goodness of my parents gave me, too, a patina of goodness. At least in Dee Dee Lahti’s eyes.
“Well, come on over here so I can meet all those dogs you got.” Dee Dee didn’t put the shotgun down, but she did tuck it under her arm. I led the way as the three of us walked our menagerie over to meet Dee Dee.
As soon as the dogs got close, Dee Dee dropped to her knees in the dirt and began loving on all four animals, laughing like a rusty hinge on a windy day as the pooches licked her face and bonked their heads into her hands.
“Why don’t you all come inside while I get some treats for your fur babies?”
I still hadn’t figured out what Dee Dee was doing at the construction site, so I had no idea what to expect when I climbed the steps into the giant trailer. Still, I was surprised at what I found: an office space, neat as a pin, complete with architectural drawings andwhiteboards lining the walls. The only flaw in the otherwise perfect little office space was an ashtray overflowing with Dee Dee’s cigarette butts. The air was heavy with the dueling scents of the smoke and a lemon air freshener.
We piled into the trailer, four people and four dogs, and Dee Dee waved toward the tan twill sofa to indicate that we should have a seat.
She made her way around one of the desks, plopped into the chair, and dug through a drawer for a handful of dog treats for our critters. It was only then that I saw Dee Dee’s dog, a Shih Tzu with flowing auburn and white hair. The dog was perched on a purple velvet pillow resting on top of the desk. Next to the pillow, there was a china plate with what appeared to be scrambled eggs and sautéed chicken livers. This was one pampered pooch.
Dee Dee must have tracked my attention. “This is Pumpkin. She’s mama’s special baby, isn’t that right, Punky-kins?”
“She’s beautiful.”
“So what are you three doing out here again?”
Rena, sitting on the arm of the sofa, jumped in. “Just taking a walk. Trendy Tails opens late on Sundays, so we thought we’d take advantage of the beautiful weather and give the dogs some exercise.”
“You’re really not supposed to trespass on the work site.”
“Sorry about that. Curiosity just got the better of us. We’ve heard so much about the development that we wanted to see how it was coming along.”
Rena sounded so casual. Technically, she wasn’t lying, but she certainly wasn’t telling the whole truth. Personally, I’m completely transparent. I can’t lie to save my life. But Rena was born with a streak of grifter in her soul, and she could sweet-talk the devil.
“What about you?” she asked. “You working on the site?”
Dee Dee drew herself up proudly. “Yes. I’m working the office here. I answer the phones, take lunch orders, that sort of thing. It’s not a glamorous job,” she said, her sly smile suggesting otherwise, “but I’ve got my foot in the door now. Figure if I do a good job, maybe I can get Mr. Olson to hire me out at the RV lot. That’s why I’m in today. Get some files tidied up so Mr. Olson can see what a hard worker I am.”
For Dee Dee, who lacked some basic social skills and bordered on mental illness, this position at the work site probably represented a huge