Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).
This story was originally written in the early 2000s. There are many technological differences from today's world. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.
Note: It is quite evident that readers do not care for Megan Wright in this story. As the subject of her damaged looks and how she feels regarding them is going to crop up again and again in the story, I respectfully suggest that perhaps you do not bother to continue reading it. It will only annoy you. Thank you for the time you spent reading so far, and I'm sorry it was a waste of time for you.
September Reprise
By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA
Chapter 10
Laura Hardy laid the last napkin in its place on the dining room table, and opened the buffet drawer. Gathering up a handful of silverware, she proceeded to arrange the place settings on the table, next to her best china plates. Crystal wine glasses came next, each one placed precisely at the point of the table knife. She stepped back and surveyed the table closely, then snapped her fingers softly and located the silver salt-and-pepper set in the china hutch. Again she stepped back and looked over her handiwork.
Plates…silver…wine glasses…water glasses. She glanced at the buffet top, where a bottle of white wine waited, chilling in a bed of ice, and went on with her mental checklist. Flowers…relishes…salt and pepper…. Everything seemed to be in order. Laura picked up a fallen chrysanthemum petal from the tablecloth, then turned and went into the kitchen.
She stood and mentally went over dinner: the chicken was in the oven, ready to be arranged on its platter. The potato salad and tossed green salad were in their bowls, waiting in the refrigerator. The glazed carrots and buttered zucchini were simmering on the stove. The rolls were on their baking sheet, ready to pop into the oven. Everything was ready.
I'm so anxious to see Erica Ranson again! Laura thought, smiling. Michael too, of course, but especially Erica! The young woman had been so sweet and shy on the Lake Tahoe cruise where they had met, and Laura had immediately had warm feelings for her, even though Erica wasn't much older than Frank. Erica and Michael were obviously deeply in love, and Laura was delighted to be renewing acquaintanceship with them. It will be nice to have a quiet dinner with friends – or potential friends – like this!
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Laura hastily stripped off her apron and hung it on its hook, then hurried into the living room just as Fenton ushered their guests into the entry hall. They look just the same as they did last month in Tahoe….
"Good to see you, Michael—"
"It's so nice to see you again…"
"Thank you so much for inviting us…"
"We were so pleased that you called…"
Welcoming phrases entangled themselves; cordial handshakes took place between dark, muscular Michael and Fenton, tentative hugs between Laura and fragile blonde Erica, who smiled brightly at them all.
"We really appreciate this so much," the blonde girl said.
"We certainly do!" her husband chimed in. "We've been on the move so much lately, I don't think we've had many good home-cooked meals since we've been married! And something smells terrific!" he added, sniffing the succulent aromas rapturously.
They all laughed. Laura was irresistibly reminded of her own sons; despite the difference in ages, Michael Ranson had a charmingly youthful enthusiasm about him.
"I need to do a few more things," Laura began to excuse herself, "but I'm sure Fenton can entertain you—"
"Please, can I come with you? I'd love to see your kitchen, and maybe I can help," Erica said hopefully. Laura nodded, and led the way to the kitchen, while Michael and Fenton headed for the den and a pre-dinner drink.
"Mrs. Hardy, your house is absolutely lovely; it's beautiful, and yet it feels like a home – it's comfortable and welcoming!" Erica exclaimed as they entered the kitchen. "I can hardly wait until Michael and I can be settled into our own place and I can set up house like I've been wanting to do!"
"Please, call me Laura….You've been traveling all this time, then?" Laura asked, whisking the pan of rolls into the oven after removing the chicken.
"Yes – oh, don't misunderstand me; I absolutely loved our travels, and I'm so lucky to see so much of the world that I might not have gotten to, otherwise. Michael's wonderful – absolutely wonderful – and he treats me like a queen!" Erica said, with a happy little laugh.
Laura smiled as she transferred the chicken to a large platter, then got the bowls of salad from the refrigerator. "Enjoy it while you can, then!"
"I will!" Erica walked to the window to briefly admire the view of the back yard. "How are your sons?" she inquired politely, after a moment. "I heard in Tahoe that they'd both been hurt while you were there – are they all right now?"
"Yes, thank goodness!" Laura nodded, pausing in her task of putting the vegetables in a serving dish. "Joe's recovered from his concussion, and Frank's broken arm is healing quite well. They're both in school – college, that is, at Bayport Community. Although there has been some trouble there recently—"
"I read about that in the newspaper!" Erica exclaimed. "Fires! That's so awful! Aren't you worried about them being on campus there – afraid that they might be hurt?"
Laura smiled ruefully. "I'm always concerned for them – always worried about them. Who wouldn't be, since they insist on taking after their father!? But I've learned that stopping them from being detectives – or going to school, or just about anything else! – is impossible, so I don't try."
"I couldn't do that," Erica shuddered expressively. "I'd be too frightened that something awful might happen! I mean, I worry about Michael, and he doesn't do anything dangerous like your husband and sons! But I'm afraid sometimes that he'll work too hard, and overdo. We travel so much because of his business…."
"What sort of business is Michael in?" Laura inquired. "I don't think I ever heard you mention…?"
For the first time, Erica sounded a trifle evasive as she replied. "He…owns a large business…it has many different interests. Diversified things. And sometimes he acts as a consultant for some of his in-laws' businesses."
"It must be nice not to have to worry about next week's paycheck," Laura observed mildly, not appearing to notice Erica's hesitancy.
"It certainly is." Erica's eyes twinkled as she made her reply. "Laura, is there anything I can do to help? Please let me?"
"Thanks, honey, but I think we're just about ready, as soon as the rolls are done. We can set things on the table in a few minutes. Would you like a drink before dinner?"
"Just a glass of water, please," Erica requested, and Laura poured her one, from a pitcher in the refrigerator.
#####
Fenton and Michael Ranson were comfortably ensconced in chairs in the family room, becoming reacquainted with their casual conversation.
"…and we were down south for a couple of weeks. The weather was so damned hot; I'm glad to get out of it."
"It's been nice here; we're having a very pleasant fall so far," Fenton observed, swirling ice cubes in his glass. "Do you follow sports at all, Michael? Baseball? Basketball?"
The husky dark-haired man grinned. "Oh yeah – I'm one of those hated Los Angeles Lakers fans."
Fenton chuckled. Personally, he had some affection for the New Jersey Nets, and Joe was a die-hard Knicks fan. Basketball season was sometimes quite acrimonious in the Hardy household. "Too bad they folded in the playoffs last year – well, maybe next time."
"And I pay enough attention to baseball and football and hockey that I can discuss them intelligently if I have to," Ranson said. "It's something a businessman has to do; it helps with networking. Officially I'm for the Miami Dolphins, the Detroit Redwings, and anybody but the Yankees!" He joined in Fenton's hearty laugh at this admission. "How are your boys, Mr. Hardy? Will they be here tonight? Erica and I've never met them, you realize?"
"No, afraid not – and make it Fenton, please, won't you? They're doing quite well. Perhaps you can meet them soon; they both had plans this evening. Joe had dinner plans with friends; Frank's girl was in a car accident yesterday, and isn't feeling too well just now, so he went over to visit her."
"I'm sorry to hear that!" Ranson shook his head. "Is that the same one who had the video camera stolen? Is she okay?"
"The same," Fenton nodded, "and yes, she was banged up some, but she'll be feeling better soon." He smiled reflectively. "Frank will do his best to make sure of that."
"That's good. I'm glad." Michael Ranson paused a moment, then plunged into the topic at the forefront of his thoughts. "Mr. Hardy – excuse me, Fenton – I have a request to make of you."
"Oh?" Fenton hid a smile behind his glass. He'd been waiting for this. "Let's hear it."
"I'm looking at a business in the area. I'm always looking to expand my business ventures, and it just so happens that an area I've been wanting to go into is in Bayport. It's a glass textiles company."
"Markham Glass?" Mr. Hardy inquired, lifting his brows.
"That's right," Ranson smiled, "It's been making great strides in glass strength. And now they're experimenting with adding a mix of plastics, to be stronger and thinner – but better!"
Fenton nodded. "I've heard about it. I know something of the company; I do keep my ear to the ground quite a lot," he admitted with a wry grin.
"Great!" Michael Ranson nodded with enthusiasm. "I was hoping that you did! The truth is, I'd like you to do some checking for me, if you could."
Fenton nodded again encouragingly, and waited for details.
"Markham Glass seems to have wildly fluctuating funds," Ranson stated soberly. "There's nothing consistent about it, and I can't figure out why it's happening, even after looking at the books and reading all the reports. I have a suspicion that something fishy is going on, and I'd like you to figure out what's going on, if possible. Do you think you could look into it for me?"
"I'd be quite willing to check it out for you, Michael; all I need are the particulars of the problem, and a contact person inside the company."
"I'll be more than happy to provide you with whatever you need," Ranson said. "I don't think it will take you all that long – at least I hope it won't – and it really would help me feel more secure about making the purchase…or not making it."
"Then I'll start working on it as soon as you can get the information to me." Fenton looked up, as Laura entered the room, followed by Erica.
"Dinner is on the table, gentlemen," Laura announced, smiling, and led the way to the dining room.
Over dinner, which the Ransons devoured as if they hadn't eaten for a week, the foursome chatted about many things. Erica and Michael told of their stay near Lake Tahoe, where they had remained after the Hardys' departure, and of their recent trip to New Orleans.
"Have you ever been there?" Erica asked, glancing at her host and hostess. "There are things that are lovely – the flowers, and the architecture – and things that are horrible, like the weather. And I have to admit, I'm not real crazy about Cajun-style food."
"She liked the beignets and café au lait at the Café du Monde, though!" her husband put in, his eyes twinkling, and Erica wrinkled her nose saucily at him.
"I did," she readily admitted. "But so did you. And so does everyone else!"
"I hope that you like apple pie too," Laura told them, rising to clear the plates before dessert. Michael nodded, making appropriately enthusiastic noises, and Erica immediately jumped to her feet to offer assistance.
Over dessert, Michael Ranson made an inquiry – and a proposition. "What are the golf courses around here like?" he asked. "I'm not an rabid golfer, but I like to do it fairly often, to keep in shape."
"There are two, the public course, and the Bayport Country Club," Fenton replied. "Both are quite nice. I must admit, I haven't played in quite a while myself."
"Would you consider a round, tomorrow morning?" Michael lifted inquiring brows. "Either course would be fine with me."
Fenton's lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile. "You sure you want to? I suspect you're far beyond my league!" He paused. "Hmmm…would you consider having a third person along?"
"Sure!" Ranson nodded. "Who do you have in mind? One of your sons?"
"No," Fenton denied. "But we have a friend – a charter pilot – who might be available. His name's Jack Wayne. The boys both work part-time for him. I might give him a call, and see if he's interested." He pushed his chair back from the table, preparing to go to the telephone.
Michael Ranson smiled and nodded again. "Please do!"
While Fenton made arrangements with Jack, who turned out to be at home, available, and agreeable to a round of golf, Michael and Erica helped Laura clear the dining table and begin the task of doing the dishes. As they worked, the ladies discussed the possibility of a shopping trip in the near future. Erica seemed delighted at the prospect of the outing, especially when Laura suggested that she see if others, such as Andrea Bender, Carolyn Wright, or their daughters, be included.
When the kitchen was tidy again, however, the fragile blonde girl pleaded weariness, and suggested that she and Michael take their leave.
"This was so much fun, and you were wonderful to have us here! Laura, the food was scrumptious! I hope we can get together for that shopping trip soon!" Erica bubbled, as they stood in the front hallway, making their farewells. She impulsively hugged them both, first Laura and then Fenton.
Fenton smiled down at her indulgently, and then turned to Michael. "I'll see you tomorrow at 8:00. You have the directions to the country club – and Jack will meet us there."
"Great!" Ranson grinned and shook hands again.
The front door closed behind them, and Michael and Erica walked to their car, hand in hand. As they reached it, Erica turned to her husband casually.
"Well…did he go for it?"