The Family Solution

“You’re not a believer in western hospitality, I take it?”

The doorbell rang and Bella went to answer it.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Niki took off her vintage fur and draped it on the coat rack, then gave Bella a hug that almost cracked her ribs. Niki’s shoulder-length blond hair had a lavender streak this week and her breasts spilled beguilingly out of the low neckline of her scarlet knit dress. “No word from the scumbag, I take it?”

Bella shook her head, frowned and jerked a thumb in the direction of her battered guest.

Niki raised her eyebrows and walked into the kitchen. “Well, hello there. I thought for a second you were Bella’s soon-to-be ex, and I was about to give you a choice piece of my mind.”

“No need for that—the lady of the house and I have already gone down that road. I’m Charlie, by the way. How do you do?” He extended a hand, and Niki took it in both of hers, turning it palm up and studying it closely.

“I’m Niki, seeing as how we’re only doing first names. Wow, that’s some long life line you’ve got there.”

“Oh, yeah? Wish I’d known that when bad guys were shooting at me.”

Bella was sure he was looking down the front of Niki’s dress. She needed to get him the hell out of here.

“You a drug dealer?” Niki sounded fascinated.

“Nothing so romantic. I was a cop.”

“Was?”

Bella was trying to give Niki the signal to lay off her questions, but of course her friend wasn’t paying any attention. Niki never did, if there was an attractive man in the vicinity. Bella knew it was all just show, since Niki was devoted to her husband, Tom. But the guys her friend hit on for fun didn’t know that.

“I moved on. Now I’m in real estate.”

“So you’re going to sell Bella’s house for her?”

“No, he most emphatically is not going to,” Bella snapped. “I’m selling it myself. You remember—you were the one who told me to, Niki. You said your uncle Giovanni would have helped me figure out a price, except—”

“Except he’s got Alzheimer’s,” Niki interrupted. “I know, I know. We agreed you’d sell it yourself.”

“There you have it.” He shrugged. “You ladies for sure know your own minds.”

“Have to be on the ball when you’re a woman.” Niki pointed at the tape and gauze. “What happened to your head?”

“Ms. Monroe and I were having a few words and she chucked a mug at me.”

“Go, Bella.” Niki gave her a thumbs-up. “Repressed anger leads to illness, and you don’t want that.”

“It was an accident.” Bella scowled at Charlie. “You don’t have a concussion, and I patched you up. So you can go now.”

Niki went over to him and stroked her finger over his bandaged wound. “Did you know she got a big chunk of your hair trapped inside the tape? Here, let me fix that for you.”

“Niki, for cripes sake, lay off, would you? You can’t take him home—Tom won’t like it.”

Niki sighed dramatically. “Sometimes marriage is very limiting.” She undid the tape and tenderly freed the hair. “You married, Charlie?”

“Divorced.”

“Kids?”

“One daughter. Emma’s twenty.”

“Which makes you what, forty something? You don’t look forty something.” Niki gave him a serious look as she patted the bandage back in place. “You don’t look a day over thirty. Eight.”

“Forty-four.” He grinned, obviously pleased with his view down the front of Niki’s dress. He had a pirate’s grin, Bella thought. That is, if pirates had good dental plans. But then, real-estate salesmen were pirates, weren’t they?

He said, “To misquote a famous lady, this is what forty-four looks like.”

Niki nodded. “Good old Germaine. What’s become of her, anyway?”

“She got herself married,” Bella said. “And there went another feminist.”

“Oh, marriage is no deterrent to feminism,” Niki said. Finished with her Florence Nightingale act, she wandered over to the cupboard and took down two mugs. “What’s your daughter’s name again, Charlie?”

“Emma. She’s in her second year at the University of British Columbia and she wants to be a doctor.”

“That’s encouraging. We need more women doctors, don’t we, Bella? There are some things only a woman understands.” Niki filled the mugs with coffee and handed him one.

“He can’t stay,” Bella said, reaching for the mug a moment too late. He eluded her and took a hefty sip.

“I’m not in any hurry,” he said. “Good coffee. Got any cream?”

Niki got a box out of the fridge, adding some cream to her own coffee before she handed it to him. She got two spoons out and gave one to him. They stirred companionably.

She said, “So what kind of career move is that, going from copping to real estate?”

“Not lateral, I’ll tell you that.” For the first time, Bella could sense he was uneasy. His grin faltered. “So what do you do, Niki?”

“Hair. Nails. On really bad days, bikini waxing.” She shuddered. “Yuck. And on the other end of the scale, brows and lashes. Didn’t you like being a cop?”

Bella gave up and waited for his answer. Trying to stop Niki was like trying to stop a tank. She’d just roll on until he’d told her everything she wanted to know.

“I liked it fine. It was just time for a career move.”

Niki nodded. “Midlife crisis, huh?”

“I guess you could call it that.” He downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp and got to his feet. “I hate to drink and run, but duty calls.” He gave Bella a wink. “I know you’re dying for me to stay, but I have other unfortunate souls to harass.”

“Important work. Don’t let us keep you.” She was on her feet in an instant.

“Interesting meeting you again, Ms. Monroe. A real pleasure, Niki.”

“Likewise.” She gave him a seductive smile. “And for God’s sake, call her Bella. Ms. Monroe smacks way too much of Marilyn, and we don’t need that much drama when we’re trying to clean up a house.”

Niki paid absolutely no attention to Bella’s glares, and fluttered her perfectly manicured hand at Charlie, who saluted and ambled toward the door.