“Really.” She looked at him, noting his slack jaw. He seemed genuinely surprised by her statement. “You were the star basketball player. Every girl at Bygones High had a crush on you,” she said to minimize the depth of her own feelings just a bit. Though what was past was past.
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Not surprising. You never had a big head.” That was always one of the things she’d loved about him—his lack of an ego was very appealing. It still was.
“Yeah, my dad would never have stood for that,” he replied. “He’s one of the most down-to-earth, humble people I’ve ever known.”
“I remember.” Allison straightened the business-card holder on the counter. “Didn’t he make you and Lori contribute a portion of your allowances to charity every month?”
“Yep. I used to hate that, but now I appreciate it.” He unzipped his jacket. “In fact, I’m going to do that with the twins when they’re old enough to understand the concept.”
“You had a good role model, didn’t you?”
“The best.”
“You’re lucky. Not everybody has that.” Like her. Her dad had always been focused on the business rather than his kids. Unfortunately, her mom had the same mind-set, so there were zero good-parenting role models in her life.
He studied her. “I get the feeling you speak from personal experience.”
She swallowed. Oh, boy. But…she was being honest here. Would it hurt to open up just a bit, even though she usually opted not to share how dysfunctional the True family was? She’d always been so ashamed that she and her sisters hadn’t come first with their parents. But who better to understand her family issues than Sam, whose mom had taken off and never been seen since? He could probably empathize…
“Actually, I do. My parents weren’t the best role models in the world.”
Sam leaned on the counter, his eyes soft. Disarming. Yet compelling, too. “How so?”
Before she could shove out a response, Nicky came bounding up. “Hi, Daddy!” he exclaimed. “You are here.”
Sam turned and scooped Nicky up into his arms and gave him a big hug. “Yes, I’m back. Did you have fun with Miss Allison?”
“Yes.” Nicky nodded. “And Miss Amy, too. We had pizza with sprinkles on the top.” In other words, Parmesan cheese.
“I know. Is there any left for me?” Sam asked. “Or did you eat it all?”
“Prolly.” Nicky pointed to the back of the store. “Want to go see?”
“You bet I do.” Sam turned and looked at Allison. “Can we finish our discussion another time?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Go eat and I’ll be there in a few minutes to talk about the workshop to Scott and Rory.”
“Great.” He turned his attention to Nicky. “Let’s go look into pizza, okay, bud?” Still holding Nicky, Sam headed toward the Kids’ Korner.
Allison watched him go, letting out a belated sigh. Of relief, she realized. Hmm. Revealing. In theory, opening up to Sam about her family seemed doable. Maybe even good for her, in that talking sometimes helped her deal. But was Sam the right person to confide in? She hoped she could figure out the answer to that question before it was too late to turn back.
*
As Sam headed back to the Kids’ Korner, he thought about what Allison had told him.
She’d had a crush on him? Amazing. He’d never suspected. If he had, he would have asked her out for sure, no matter what Lori had done to discourage him. Even now, Allison’s revelation had his stomach doing jumping jacks. But…a lot had happened since his carefree days of high school. He was different now, wiser, toughened up. He had kids and job problems and a manipulative ex-wife to handle. Enough family drama for many years to come. He couldn’t let Allison’s confession matter, or lower his guard.
He found Rosie and the teens in the Kids’ Korner eating pizza as they lounged on multicolored beanbag chairs. Amy True, whom he recognized from school, had Rosie on her lap and was reading her a story. He could definitely see her resemblance to Allison; she had the same blue eyes and brown hair. The other girl, Tiffany Preston, a petite blonde, was texting on her cell phone. The pizza sat on a table in the corner, along with some bottles of water.
“Coach!” Rory lifted a slice of pizza. “You hungry?”
Sam put Nicky down and eyed the chow. “I could eat.”
“Daddy, Miss Amy is reading me a story,” Rosie said. “About a princess.”
Amy waved. “Hey, Mr. Franklin.”
He returned the wave as he headed over to the pizza and picked up a slice. “Amy, Tiffany. You girls keeping these boys in line?”
“Actually, Rosie here is doing that for us.” Amy high-fived Rosie. “You go, girl.”
“Yeah, Ro-ro, you go,” Nicky mimicked, plopping down in a beanbag chair next to Scott.
Allison returned to the Kids’ Korner. “Welcome, Scott and Rory. I’ve already laid out the parameters of the class for the other kids, but I’ll go over things while you eat, if you don’t mind.”
“Please do,” Sam said. He was looking forward to seeing her in her element.
“So, boys,” she said, “I already talked to the girls, and the other kids who were here earlier, about their goals for the workshop. Why are you here?”
“For the pizza,” Scott said, licking his fingers.
“Yeah, eating’s my goal,” Rory added.
“Well, that’s a given.” Allison picked up a napkin and handed it to Scott. “What I meant was, what do you hope to accomplish? I’m perfectly willing to tailor the class to help in any way I can.”
Sam piped up, “Writing in general would help a lot.” He knew from talking to Sharon Wells, the boys’ English teacher, that both of them were struggling with the essay assignments.
“Yeah, I’m bad at it,” Rory said. “My grade in English is, like, awful.”
“Me, too,” Tiffany said. “Grammar is not my friend.”
“Okay, I can work with that.” Allison looked at Scott and Rory. “The assignment for today is to write a personal-experience piece about your favorite thing and how it’s impacted your life.”
“Oh, man.” Rory rolled his eyes. “We have assignments?”
“I know, what a drag, huh?” Tiffany said, her eyes on her cell phone.
“Tiffany, remember the rule we have about phones?” Allison gave her a pointed look.
Tiffany looked up, then grudgingly put her phone down. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.” Allison went on, “Do you guys want to improve and pass your English class, or not?” She looked right at Rory, and then shifted her focus to Scott. “Won’t you two lose your spots on the team if your GPA isn’t good?”
Sam wanted to chime in with the answer but kept quiet, preferring to let the boys tell their own story. “Well, yeah,” Rory said, shrugging. “Not to mention my dad will freak if I fail English.”
“Well, then, there you go,” Allison said. “All the more reason to take advantage of this class. The format of the workshop is to do the assignment, and then we’ll discuss what you wrote at the next class and offer feedback.”
“So I have to read my stuff out loud?” Scott looked horrified.
“Yes, but everyone will do it, and we only allow constructive criticism, so it should be a very good way to learn.”
Sam liked the idea. Peer feedback was always helpful; teens often took more stock in what other teens had to say than they did in the opinions of adults.
“Actually, I have a suggestion,” Amy said.
“Go ahead,” Allison replied.
“How about we all write a skit together to do at the harvest festival when we man the literacy booth?”
“That’s a great idea,” Allison said. “Would you boys be up for that?”
“Do we get to work with them?” Rory asked, nodding toward Amy and Tiffany.
“Yep, you do,” Allison said. “You’d write the skit together, man the booth and perform the skit with them.”
“Then I’m in,”
Rory said.
Scott raised a hand. “Me, too.”
“You girls up for this?”
Both girls nodded.
“Great!” Allison grinned. “This’ll be fun.”
Rory held up his hand. “Yo, Ms. True. Does writing the skit count as our assignment for this week?”
Sam’s teacher’s sense had seen this question coming.
Allison paused, clearly mulling over her answer. She looked to Sam. “What do you think, Mr. Franklin?”
“I think it should count, especially since there’s a skit involved.” He gave Scott and Rory a skeptical glance. “I only hope you guys are better at acting than I am.”
Allison chuckled. “Don’t worry, boys, no one expects good acting. It’s the message being delivered that matters.”
“Good thing,” Scott said, nudging Rory with his foot. “Though I’m better at acting than this guy.”
Rory snorted. “No way, dude.”
“So,” Allison remarked, “I’m going to leave it up to you guys to get together before next week to write the script, and then you can show me what you’ve got then, all right?”
All the teens agreed.
“Great,” Allison said. “Why don’t you talk amongst yourselves and come up with the core idea for the skit, and then run it by me and Mr. Franklin before you leave. I’ll contact the other kids who’ve already left and let them know what’s going on.”
The teens put their heads together, and, surprisingly, Nicky in particular was content to sit still in his beanbag, “reading” his book, though his gaze kept darting to the older boys.
Sam took the opportunity to snag another piece of pizza, covertly watching Allison as she bent down and said something to Rosie. Rosie nodded, and then Allison picked her up and came over to Sam.
“We’re going to go wash our hands,” Allison said, holding out one of Rosie’s hands, which had smears of pizza sauce on them.
“I’ll take her,” he said.
“I want Miss Allison to take me,” Rosie said. “Please?”
“Do you mind?” he asked Allison.
“Of course not.” Allison rubbed a finger on Rosie’s cheek. “I think we may have to wash your face, too, Miss Rosie-roo. I see a little stray sauce there.”
Allison left the Kids’ Korner with Rosie propped on her hip. Just before they disappeared around a bookshelf, Allison whispered in Rosie’s ear. Rosie giggled and whispered back.
Something in the vicinity of Sam’s chest softened, sending tendrils of warmth outward. Nicky asked him to come look at a picture of a sports car in the book he was reading and Sam hunkered down next to him, grateful for the distraction.
A few minutes later, Allison came back with a spotlessly clean Rosie. The older kids wrapped up their discussion and presented their skit idea, which he and Allison approved. Then all the teens left together with talk of getting ice cream at the Everything on their way home.
Allison pushed the door closed after them. “Whew. It’s been a long day.”
“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I love what I do, so I don’t mind,” she said with a smile. “It’s way better than working my fingers to the bone for the Book Barn. This place is mine, and that makes all the difference.”
“You’re really determined to make the most out of this store, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” She lifted her chin.
“I admire your commitment.” He paused, then added, “You really have a knack with those kids.”
“Well, thanks again.” She turned and headed back to the Kids’ Korner. “I enjoy spending time with them.”
He followed her. “High school kids are a tough crowd. You really know how to talk to them.”
She looked over her shoulder. “I remember what it was like being that age, so I try to tap into that and make things interesting for them.”
“They seem very interested in helping out with the literacy booth.”
She stopped when they reached the Kids’ Korner. “Speaking of that, are you still up for helping build the booth?” she asked, her gorgeous blue eyes hitting him straight on. “I’m a mess with power tools.”
He paused. He had promised, hadn’t he? And he wasn’t one to go back on his promises.
She went on, “I’ve decided to ask the teens to help out, and that we’ll just build the booth in the church basement so we don’t have to move it there before the festival.”
So the kids would be there. Good. He rubbed his cheek. “I’m fine with that,” Sam said. “Just tell me when and I’m there.”
Allison’s mouth curved up into a lovely smile. “Wonderful. It’ll be fun. I was thinking Friday night after the store closes so Viv can help, if that works for you. We can make a party out of it with the kids.”
“That works,” he said. It would be a group activity, with the teens present, and Viv, too. Nothing more than him helping out where needed. Though he didn’t even want to think about why that even mattered.
Some things were best left as mysteries.
Chapter Eight
Allison looked at the pile of wood Sam had deposited in the basement of Bygones Community Church. “Thanks for bringing this here. It never would have fit into my car.” He’d picked up the wood she’d ordered from the Fixer-Upper, and she was beyond grateful for his help with the heavy lifting and hauling.
“Glad I could make use of my truck.” He gestured to Scott and Rory. “Luckily I had these two guys to help.”
Rory flexed his skinny arms. “Yeah, Coach didn’t do anything. It was all us, Ms. True.”
Scott snorted. “Not with those arms, dude.” He flexed, too, cartoon style. “Now, these are some guns.”
Allison chuckled. “Well, either way, I appreciate the help.” She looked up and saw Amy and Tiffany come in. “Ah, here are the girls.” Each girl carried a shopping bag full of treats to be eaten with dinner after the booth was complete.
“When’s dinner?” Scott asked.
Did these boys think about anything but food? “I brought sandwiches and chips, and I made cookies and brought some candy, but we have to work first,” Allison said. “There’s water over there in the blue cooler.”
Viv came in, her arms loaded down with the banner she’d made with the help of the electronic cutting machine her mother owned and the literature she had printed at Happy Endings. She was quite good with designing stuff on the computer. “I finally finished this banner,” she said. “Good thing my mom knows how to operate that machine, or I never would have gotten it made.”
“Here, Viv, let me help you with that.” Sam, gentleman that he was, went over and took the banner off her hands, along with some of the flyers.
“Thanks,” Viv said.
“No problem,” Sam replied, carefully placing the bright red paper banner on the floor in the corner.
Allison clapped her hands. “All right, everyone is here.” She pulled out some papers she’d folded and put in the back pocket of her jeans. “Here are the plans for the booth.”
Sam blinked. “Did you draw those yourself?”
“No, I did not.” She could expound books and literature from sunup to sundown, but design plans were not in her wheelhouse. “I got them off the internet.”
“Resourceful.” Sam grinned. “I like that.”
“I try,” she said. “I only hope your mathematical acumen comes in handy when you try to figure out the cut angles and such.” Plus, she was counting on him for the power-tool operation; her experience was limited to a one-time workshop at the Fixer-Upper, and she didn’t feel confident in her abilities. Maybe she could handle some of the nailing.
“I think I can do that,” he said, coming closer, holding out his hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure.” She handed him the plans and his fingers touched hers briefly. Sparks flew up her arm and it was all she could do not to gasp out loud.
Seemingly unaffected, Sam looked over the plans, his brow cre
ased. “These look pretty straightforward.” He glanced up at the teens. “Actually, I might find a way to give you guys some math credit for this project.”
“Cool,” Rory said. The other teens nodded in agreement.
Sam handed the plans back to Allison, and then went over and put on the tool belt he’d brought, slinging the leather job low on his hips. Allison made a concerted effort not to stare, but really, was there anything more attractive than a man in a tool belt? Unfortunately not. She was going to need to focus on the project, not Sam, no matter how good he looked in his craftsman persona.
After some discussion about how to proceed, and some rough division of labor, the group got to work. Sam supervised the board measuring and cutting as per the plans, and soon they moved on to nailing the pieces together. Allison could see the teacher in Sam shine through; he was very patient with the kids and took time to explain the building process in a way that made the project fun yet educational.
She found her gaze snagging on him often as he helped one teen or another with the detail work of putting the booth together. Something about his demeanor really struck a chord with her. And it was much more than just how manly he looked in the tool belt. He just had a way with the teens that impressed her to no end. He was a great guy. It was such a shame he had shut himself off to the possibility of love. He could make some woman very happy someday.
A pang darted through her, but she tried to ignore it. No sense in dwelling on impossibilities.
After an hour of work, they took a dinner break—her cookies were a big hit—and then got back to work. The booth had taken shape with Sam’s guidance, and soon it was time to tilt it up off the floor into an upright position. Everybody pitched in, and Allison ended up next to Sam, bent down close as they worked to get hold of the framework that formed the booth.
As they worked to lift the booth, he turned and flashed a quick smile, and her heart leaped. Then his large hand touched hers, his firm shoulder pressed against her arm and his hip jostled hers. He was warm and solid and she didn’t pull away, though she probably should have, except there really wasn’t room for her to move away with Viv on Allison’s other side. So she let herself enjoy the brief contact, telling herself touching him was just part of the job.
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