“It’s going very well from what I can tell,” Marybeth said. “Despite much more drama than I’d like.”
She knew April was well aware of the situation that had occurred weeks before in the mountains and the fact that Sheridan had ended up in the middle of it. The murder plot against the high-tech executive had made national news and there were conspiracy theories online about what really had happened.
“Nate’s away right now, though,” Marybeth continued. “That’s why Sheridan is staying with Liv and the baby at their house.”
“Will he be here for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Doubtful, from what I understand.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s trying to track down a man who beat up Liv and stole his falcons.”
After a moment’s shock, April said, “That won’t end well,” with a ghoulish delight Marybeth found uncomfortable. But that was April. She believed in rough justice.
“We’ll fill you in on all of that later,” Marybeth said. “Or you can ask Liv herself. She’s bringing desserts. And she’s bringing Kestrel, their toddler. She’s fourteen months old and growing up in front of our eyes.”
“I’m glad you have a baby around to keep you occupied,” April said.
As before, the statement was more than a little provocative. All the girls knew Marybeth couldn’t wait to be a grandmother. Marybeth didn’t take the bait.
“So how are things going at the store in Montana?” she asked.
After graduating from Northwest Community College, April had taken a job in Cody at the Western-wear retailer she’d worked for in Saddlestring. Within two months, she’d been offered a promotion to manage an outlet in Bozeman and had moved north across the border.
“First let me get another beer,” April said. “It’s been a long day.”
* * *
—
“Everything’s going fine at the store, but it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life,” April said as she resumed her post next to Marybeth at the counter and began mashing hard egg yolks into a bowl. “The work’s okay, but being the manager of employees is no fun. Personnel management is a bitch. We can’t keep people very long. We train them and then they realize they actually have to work, so they start whining. I swear,” she said, “I really can’t stand being around most of the people my age. They’re just pussies.”
“April,” Marybeth cautioned.
“Sorry, but it’s true. They want days off after they’ve worked there for a week. I’m not kidding. And I’m just lucky I don’t have to drug test the associates or we’d have nobody to work.”
“I understand.”
She did. Marybeth headed the hiring committee at the library, and of the seven millennials they’d brought on, only one remained, and he had already exhausted all of his sick leave and vacation time for the year.
“Anyway, it isn’t going to be my career. I’ll do it until I can find something else. Something I can really dig into, you know?”
“Like what?” Marybeth asked.
“Well, you know how I always wanted to punish pukes?”
“You mean criminals?”
“Yeah. But I don’t want to be a cop. Cops give me the creeps.”
“Your dad is law enforcement.”
“Yeah, but he’s different. He’s out there with the deer and elk all day, you know? He’s not busting kids for speeding or possessing weed.”
Marybeth bit her tongue and didn’t argue. It was rare when April was so open with her. She didn’t want to derail the conversation.
April took another long drink and said, “So I was in the process of getting my name changed when this, um, opportunity came up.”
Marybeth froze, her knife blade an inch from another hard-boiled egg.
“What name change?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m getting it changed from April Keeley to April Keeley Pickett. Didn’t I tell you about that?”
“No, somehow you forgot,” Marybeth said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.
“Well, I am. I think it’s better, don’t you?”
Marybeth nodded. Her eyes misted suddenly. “Of course I like it. And so will your dad.”
“I’ll try not to get my name in the news and embarrass you,” April said. “Unlike Dad.”
Marybeth started to turn to hug her, when April laughed and stepped away. “Be careful with that knife,” she said. “Don’t gut me, Mom.”