Lucky Stuff (Jane Wheel Mysteries) by Sharon Fiffer Page A

behind the bar, and a terrible hypochondriac. He called in sick a few times a month, always with a specific array of symptoms.
    “I have a rash on my left arm, an earache in my right ear, and both of my eyelids are twitching,” Carl would report.
    “For God’s sake, Carl, put on a long-sleeved shirt, take an aspirin, and get your ass in here,” Nellie would tell him.
    “I quit,” he’d answer.
    “You’re fired,” Nellie would answer back.
    Around six o’clock, Carl would come in through the back door, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and sunglasses. He and Nellie would shrug at each other and Don would repeat the closing instructions he had give him every night for thirty-odd years.
    Jane could see that her father was tired. He was tan and healthy-looking from a summer of golfing and lawn mowing, but the lines around his eyes and mouth were cut more deeply than Jane remembered. She hugged him as he passed by and promised she would hold down the fort.
    The bar was completely empty. After all, it was nine A.M. —how busy should a neighborhood tavern be on a sunny September morning? Jane took out her own cell phone and programmed in her father’s number. Good for him, Jane was thinking. He might be embracing technology a little late, but then again, Jane was only a few years ahead of him. She was racing forward, though, what with her smart phone and all. As she admired it in her hand, it vibrated and she saw on the screen that Melinda, her realtor, was calling. Jane steeled herself to hear that the deal had fallen through.
    “Everything’s a go,” said Melinda, all energy with a mouthful of toast.
    Jane surprised herself by feeling disappointed and elated at the same time. She couldn’t honestly tell which came first or which carried more weight. She opened her mouth, ready to be surprised by whatever words escaped.
    “Yay,” she said. It came out in a cracked whisper.
    She knew her response was anemic, but Jane hadn’t received good news in a while. She was out of practice.
    “Okay, Janie, you better plan on getting back here to clear out what you want and we’ll get all the rest of the papers in front of you to sign. You don’t have to come to the closing if you don’t want. She’s nice, though, this woman who appreciates your stuff. Since this is such a wild offer, I warned her that we hadn’t listed any furniture as exceptions since they’re never usually included and you might have to do some picking and choosing when you got here. She’s cool with it.”
    “Well, my desk and chair and books,” said Jane, “but I honestly can’t picture anything else right now. A lamp or two … oh there’s a hook on the wall in Nick’s bedroom, a brass horse’s head…”
    “Don’t even think about doing this from memory. You’ll forget something. There’s going to be some kitchen things, you know, favorite pans and stuff. I don’t know, maybe you already gathered up all your faves. Aren’t you so glad I made you pack up all that junk you collected? So now you’ve got all your personal stuff with you and this walk-through and pack-up will be a piece of cake.”
    Jane agreed, without filling her in on the fact that her personal stuff was on a three to five state tour. She had to hang up. Francis had walked in midway through the conversation and he was tapping all of his fingers, using both hands. Jane could tell he was uncomfortable without Don and Nellie in sight and the fact that Jane was behind the bar talking into a cell phone added to his discomfort. “I’ll be there this weekend. Maybe tomorrow. And have I thanked you? I’m so sorry if I haven’t, Melinda. Thank you so much.”
    Jane hung up, slipped the phone back in her pocket, and walked over to Francis. She had tended bar for her parents only a few times and when she had, either Don or Nellie had been working with her. Alone behind the bar, she had to admit she was nervous. And excited. She had been an adult for a good many years, but