Love Notions

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Love Notions Page 2

by Mary Manners


  2

  “I’m not your baby.” Jami strode behind the counter and snatched a mint of her own. She unwrapped it and tossed it into her mouth, letting red-hot peppermint burn over her. She had to chew on something and it was the mint or Riley. She turned her back to him, taking a moment to straighten a small display of inspirational notecards. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Gets under your skin, doesn’t it?”

  “Not much has changed. You’re still incorrigible.”

  “Maybe by your standards, but not by mine. But if it’s a crime to have a dream—to pursue that dream—then I’m guilty as charged.”

  “Well, by your standards, Nana’s Novel Notions might just be business—a project— but, to me, it’s everything.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, that’s so.”

  “Well, I have a project, too. Did you notice the architectural firm next door?”

  “Yes, of course I did. Designs by Riley…” Jami did a quick spin, turned back to face him, dropping a notecard. It fluttered to the floor and slipped beneath the checkout counter. “Oh, no. Not that, too.”

  “Yes, that, too. And I have plans to expand. This complex is perfect, and I’m going to do my best to make it happen—soon.” He nodded to emphasize. “I’ve dreamed of building an architectural firm my whole life. I have goals too, you know, and Angel Falls is the perfect venue to bring them to fruition.”

  “You can’t. You wouldn’t. Not now.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

  “I can give you a million reasons.” Jami sighed and swiped hair from her brow, wishing the AC repairman would materialize and rescue her from this infernal sauna. Even the candles on display were beginning to wilt. By the grand opening, they’d be little more than a puddle. The scent of warm apple pie mingled with pine, making the shop smell more like Christmas than the dog days of June. “Look, it’s too hot in here to argue, and I don’t even know why you’re being so…unneighborly.”

  “Unneighborly?” He laughed out loud. “Is that what you’d call it?”

  “I would.”

  “I surrender.” Riley held up both hands. “You’re right. It is too hot in here to continue this…discussion. Let’s take it back to the Haven. I’ll drive.”

  “No, thanks.” She’d rather hitch a ride home in the jaws of an alligator. “I rode my bike.”

  “Which bike?” Riley eased over to the display widow and peered into the quiet boulevard. “That cute little neon-pink retro Schwinn parked out front—the one with a basket hooked to the front handlebars and a miserably flat rear tire?”

  “What!” She pushed past him to the shop door, her mood further deflating as her gaze swept the length of the bike. “Oh no! How did that happen?”

  “Looks like you ran over a sea of glass.” He motioned to a flurry of shards scattered over the concrete, sparkling like jagged diamonds beneath the late-June sun. “Creates a little emergency, doesn’t it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Jami tapped her nails on the polished window as her breath fogged the glass. “I’ll just walk.”

  “Nine miles?” Riley’s laughter echoed off the honey-tanned shop walls. “In that case, you might make it home by midnight.”

  ****

  “This isn’t the way home.” Jami leaned forward in the passenger seat of Riley’s truck and pointed west into a halo of late-afternoon sun. “Heart’s Haven is that way.”

  “I know how to get home.” Riley adjusted the radio dial and lowered the driver’s window so a breeze rushed through the cab. He loved the lush smell of Angelina Forest pine that made everything seem fresh and new. It reminded him that he was new, too. It would serve him well to remember that and rein in his emotions before he fell too far into old, destructive habits. He’d started off on the wrong foot with Jami—again—and he planned to rectify that. “I have to make a quick stop.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that cooler nestled beside my bike in the bed of your truck?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her lips curved into a scowl as her nose wrinkled, making a cute smattering of freckles more prevalent. “It’s not holding Bambi, is it?”

  “No.” Riley grinned as he changed lanes. “I gave up my hunting days after that accident and the dozen painful stitches—not to mention the tongue-lashing I got from my dad and the tears from my mother. Dad took my license, too. I have a job now—and a generous income—so I figure it’s safer to buy my meat in the grocery store.”

  “Well, I’m a vegetarian…sort of.”

  “Figures.” He turned the corner and headed down Pleasant Ridge toward Mrs. O’Leary’s house. “Though I don’t know how someone can sort of be a vegetarian.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” Jami shrugged. “I try to travel the vegetarian straight and narrow. It’s just that I crave a burger every now and then.”

  “Of course you do. But I would have guessed you’re more of a filet kind of girl.” He tapped the gas pedal, pushing the speed limit along the deserted road. “Or maybe even caviar.”

  “Fish eggs? That’s even more disgusting than Bambi.” She shook her head. “Besides, caviar is expensive.”

  “I didn’t figure that would be a problem for you, seeing as how your grandmother indulged you with everything you ever wanted. That dress alone must have cost her a month’s salary.”

  “It wasn’t that expensive.” Jami clasped her fingers, gnawing her lower lip. “And I worked hard to help out and earn my keep after my parents died. Oh, by the way, my cheerleading paid off with a free ride to Texas A&M so I could earn a business degree. What about you?”

  “I don’t look good in a tight little skirt.” He imagined she did, though. Actually knew it for a fact.

  “Very funny.” She waggled a finger at him. “Anyway, that’s how I afforded college—that scholarship and a part-time job shelving books at the campus library. So, say what you want about the merits—or lack thereof—of cheerleading. It worked for me.”

  “Sounds too exciting for words.”

  “Right. So, hop down from your high horse and grab a ring buoy before you drown in a sea of pity.” She grabbed the dash as he took a corner a little too fast. “You’re not the only one who’s had it rough.”

  “You’re right.” He glanced at her, a needle of guilt piercing him. “And I deserved that. I’m sorry about your folks. I know it’s been hard for you.”

  “I’ve managed just fine.” Jami’s gaze drifted from him to the whitewashed, clapboard house at the top of the street’s quiet cul-de-sac as the car slowed. “Is that…?”

  “Yep, Mrs. O’Leary.” The elderly woman sat in a wooden rocker, her shock of white hair curling in the breeze. She broke into a gap-toothed smile as Riley downshifted and turned into the blacktopped drive.

  “Is that you, Riley?” she called.

  He leaned his head out the window as he spun the steering wheel, angling to park along the length of the porch. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you brought a friend, too,” Mrs. O’Leary stood as Riley parked the truck. “All I can make out is a pretty wave of blonde hair. Who is it?”

  “Jami Mitchell. You remember her, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. Excellent student. One of the best.” She leaned on the porch rail, motioning as her voice, worn with age, cracked. “Come in dear and have some tea and cookies. This is such a treat. Riley didn’t tell me he was bringing company.”

  “I snagged you some of that mixed-berry yogurt you like and the rest of the things on your grocery list.” Riley switched off the ignition. “And I picked up a handful of surprises, too.”

  “Thank you. That’s perfect. My daughter’s coming from Dallas this weekend for a visit. She’s bringing my little grandson, too.” Mrs. O’ Leary turned as Riley eased from the truck and rounded the bed to grab the cooler. “She’ll be tickled pink.”

  “Good. I’ll just carry this in and put it away for you.” He paused at the passeng
er window and nodded toward Jami. “You remember Mrs. O’Leary, don’t you?”

  “Honors Calculus. You gave her fits our junior year.” Jami sighed. “She was old as dirt back then, the poor woman. She retired that spring.”

  “That’s right. My teammates and I caused her a boatload of stress. Now, I’m making up for my transgressions.”

  “So, you’ve grown a conscience?”

  “You could say that.” Riley jostled the cooler onto his hip. “There are worse things to grow. Come on inside and keep her company while I stash this stuff in her refrigerator. It’s not often someone ventures out to sit with her.”

  “Except for you, right?” Jami opened the passenger door.

  “Uh-huh. Every Thursday.”

  “Well, of course I’m game. Someone who taught as long as she did…I’m sure she has endless entertaining stories to tell—including an arsenal about you.”

  3

  “Would you like me to read, Mrs. O’Leary?” Riley’s voice, low and steady, drew Jami’s attention as she settled into a wing-backed chair near the living room window. “Or would you rather have a go at it, Jami?”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “No, you go ahead.” Her mind still reeled with the idea that Riley wanted to pray, that he so easily and comfortably shared his desire to speak to God. Was this the same guy who, through their high school years, had been tight-lipped to the core, sharing his thoughts and opinions mainly with his fists? What had happened to the old Riley—the in-your-face obnoxious know-it-all-bully she’d sat through classes with during high school? Maybe she was dreaming.

  Riley balanced the worn leather Bible on his knees as he flipped through the pages and the warmth of his voice told her they were really here together in Mrs. O’Leary’s living room, enjoying melt-in-your-mouth chocolate brownies a la mode and sweet tea while he prepared to read from Romans. The scents of vanilla and lemon, homey and cheerful, drifted.

  “OK, then…” Riley shifted in his seat and skimmed a finger across the page as he began. His voice held steady and sure as the words sang. “‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.’”

  The verse from Romans washed over Jami, touching a place deep in her heart. Had Riley been tested over the past decade? Is that what had brought about this change in him? Was she being tested as well—here? Now? What did it all mean?

  Riley continued. “‘For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.’”

  “That’s a beautiful passage,” Mrs. O’Leary broke in, her filmy gray eyes glancing their way. “And quite relevant, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Riley handed her a second brownie from the platter on the coffee table. “Would you like more tea?”

  “No, this is plenty.” Mrs. O’Leary nibbled the sweet and dabbed her lips delicately with an embroidered cloth napkin. “Just give me more words.”

  “OK, then.” And Riley continued through Romans chapter two as Mrs. O’Leary leaned forward in her rocker, drinking in every word.

  ****

  “How long have you been going to visit her?” Jami asked as she and Riley pulled through the entrance to the Heart’s Haven complex.

  “Almost two years.” Riley switched off the radio and inhaled. The scent of pine mingled with lilac from a flurry of bushes that lined the length of the drive. Above, moonlight spilled over a lush Angelina Forest, turning leaves to a shimmer of silver. He caught a glimpse of Andrew Hart strolling hand-in-hand with his new wife, Vivian, along the walking trail that skirted the forest’s edge. The crusty old codger had found love again in his twilight years. Lucky guy, as Riley wondered if he himself would ever manage to discover it for the first time. “I ran into her in the grocery store the week I returned here and she asked me to help her decipher something on her list. She’d forgotten her reading glasses.”

  “I can hardly imagine Riley Hunter pushing a shopping cart along the aisles of Breyer’s Grocery Store.”

  “How else am I supposed to eat?” He shrugged. “Anyway, Mrs. O’Leary and I got to talking, and she told me that her daughter had just been offered a job in Dallas. She was pretty torn up over the prospect of being separated from her grandson and fretting over how she’d make it to the store without her daughter’s assistance. She said her vision was failing due to macular degeneration. I felt bad for her, so, I offered to help.”

  “Just like that?” Jami snapped her fingers. “No questions asked, no hesitation or worry about what your posse of football friends might think?”

  “I’m not eighteen anymore, and my posse of football friends has long dispersed.” His sigh turned to a grimace, her apparent shock like daggers to his heart. “Yes, I agreed, just like that. I thought I was helping Mrs. O’Leary but the truth is, she helped me. It shames me to admit that the first time she asked me to read to her from the Bible, I flat out refused. By my way of thinking, I didn’t have time for such a fantasy world. I had never been much of a believer. I figured, so why start now, in my mid-twenties?”

  “And you poked fun of me for ‘kind of’ being a vegetarian when you were just ‘sort of’ a believer?” Jami dipped her chin, frowning at him. “Funny how your words come back around to kick you in the teeth when you least expect it.”

  “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Well, you know from sitting through Mrs. O’Leary’s calculus class just how feisty she is. I swear the woman eats nails for breakfast. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I finally relented. I dusted off the Bible and by the end of the first chapter, I was hooked.” He turned into Jami’s drive and parked. As the engine silenced, quiet enveloped them like a downy blanket. Riley rubbed a hand along the thigh of his jeans as he remembered that afternoon—the way everything looked greener, crisper…cleaner as he’d driven away from Mrs. O’Leary’s cozy little house toward Heart’s Haven and his new cottage, still cluttered with unopened boxes. “I can’t even express what I felt. Relief and a kind of peace I’d never experienced before. I wanted to devour that book like an endless buffet. I’m not ashamed to admit that on the way home that first evening, I broke down and bawled like a baby.”

  “You…cried?” Jami touched Riley’s hand as her voice hitched and softened. With her free hand, she lifted an index finger. “Wait. Give me a minute here.”

  “Take your time.” Riley’s gaze shifted, capturing hers. He hadn’t cried the night he’d bulleted an interception during the final minutes of the championship football game their senior year, cementing a painful and irrevocable loss, or when his folks announced the following spring that they were getting divorced. He didn’t even cry when his dad passed four years later, only days before his college graduation. But he’d cried that night he left Mrs. O’Leary as if the dam had finally cracked wide open. “I know it’s hard to believe this tough guy would ever shed a tear. But I did.”

  “Now it’s my turn to weep.” Jami dipped her head, breaking his gaze. She swiped one eye with an index finger. “That’s the most amazing thing, and now my words have circled ’round to kick me. I’m guilty.”

  “We all are.” He shifted his hand, twining his fingers with hers. “But it’s OK.”

  “I didn’t know…didn’t realize…” She pressed a palm to her lips, and her voice was muffled through her fingers. “I’ve been judging you unreasonably. You’ve…changed, Riley.”

  “Yes, I have. We both have.” He nodded slightly and again felt a measure of warmth as he sent up silent thanks for the grace he’d experienced. “Against all odds. God sure is good, isn’t He?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.” Tears pooled and spilled over to run freely down her cheeks. “I feel…”

  “I know.” He grazed a finge
r along her jaw, capturing a tear. “Let me walk you to the door. I’ll haul your bike to my place and see if I can doctor the tire.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Of course I don’t. But I want to.” He slipped from the car and rounded the hood to grab her door. “Let me get it for you.”

  “All right.” Jami stood and turned to face him. “I’ll find a way to repay you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Of course I don’t.” She smiled through her tears, lobbing Riley’s words back at him. “But I want to.”

  “I have a meeting in the morning, nine o’clock, over at the complex. I’ll stop by and drive you to your shop.”

  “Meeting?” Her eyes flashed in the shimmer of moonlight, and Riley noticed a hint of wariness. “Is it about…?”

  “Yes.” For some reason, he suddenly couldn’t bring himself to say the word he’d been salivating over for weeks now. But she could.

  “The buyout.” Her brows knit together as a cloud darkened her gaze. She backed away from him, swiping her eyes as she sniffled. “I almost forgot.”

  “Like I said before, it’s just business, Jami.” He reached for her, but she turned away and strode up the walk toward her door. Riley heaved a sigh. So much for a truce. By the set of her shoulders, the December freeze had blown in once again. He started after her, calling, “You’d do the same thing if you were in my shoes.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” She spun to face him, hands firmly set on her hips. Tears glazed her eyes as she continued. “I’d consider the situation from all sides—including its impact on others.”

  “Like you’re doing now, right?” Even as the words came, he regretted his sharp tone. Yet, the words continued to spew like molten lava. “You’re considering all sides at this very moment, aren’t you?”

 

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