Facing the Music
Page 29
“Oh, Lordy,” Miss Francine groaned. “Can you even imagine it?”
“I can!” Sarah answered. “Grant Chamberlain might be on the young side for you, but there’s got to be some eligible men in town who would be more suitable.”
Miss Vera shook her head. “I know every man in this town and not a one of them could measure up to my Herman. We had forty-three wonderful years together before he had that heart attack. I think my time to wade in the dating pool is long behind me.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah argued. “You could just start by dipping a toe in. I’ve seen Bert Swenson eyeing you at Sunday morning service.”
“Bert Swenson?” Miss Vera nearly choked, a red flush rising to her powdered cheeks. “Are you kidding me?”
“You know,” Pepper joined in, “I’ve noticed he always takes a second serving of your desserts at the community picnics.”
“Well, he shouldn’t,” Miss Vera snapped. “That man has put on at least thirty pounds since Margaret died. He’ll have the sugar diabetes before too long.”
Sarah put the last of the foils in Miss Vera’s hair and set the timer. “Maybe he just needs a good woman to take care of him.”
“Sarah, dear, I have spent my whole life taking care of other people. First my brothers, then my husband, then my kids, then my own parents. Now it’s the grandkids. I miss Herman, but I certainly don’t miss cooking three squares a day. Meat and potatoes. Every night. For forty-three years. Last night, I had a cheese sandwich. The night before, a can of soup. I haven’t washed a skillet in a month and I don’t mind a bit. A new man to take care of? No thanks.”
Pepper smiled, listening to Miss Vera’s tirade. She was protesting a little too much. Perhaps there really was some potential for senior romance in the air.
“Well, you know they’re talking about having a bachelor auction around Valentine’s Day.”
“I heard about that,” Miss Francine chimed in. “The fund-raising committee contacted me last week about sponsoring some flower arrangements and roses for the winning bidders. As though I’ll have spare roses around Valentine’s Day! Even if I did, my suppliers jack up the wholesale prices in February. They’re going to pay or they’re going to get some lovely red and pink carnations.”
Pepper frowned at Miss Francine’s long-winded complaint. Nearly a year ago, a tornado had whipped through Rosewood, wiping out the high school gymnasium and part of the football stadium. The town had rallied, organizing fund-raisers and even bringing Ivy Hudson, rock star and former resident of Rosewood, back to town for a charity concert. Sarah’s daughter had become a Grammy-winning performer with numerous albums and world tours under her belt. They had easily raised more than enough money to rebuild and modernize the school by having her come back. Pepper would know; she had been on the committee.
But she hadn’t heard about this. She stopped going to the meetings once they started construction on the new gym. “Why is the fund-raising committee still trying to raise money? The high school is paid for.”
“Well, where there’s one tornado, there’s always another,” Miss Vera said with sage wisdom in her voice. “From what I heard, they’ve decided to continue planning community events to raise money for the future.”
“I think it’s just a good excuse to throw some parties and make money in the process,” Sarah said. “Although, when another tornado comes through, and one will, it might be nice to have some money put away for emergency relief.”
“But a bachelor auction?” Pepper said. “That’s just so . . .”
“Tacky?” Miss Francine offered.
“Yes, tacky, thank you. What single woman with any dignity is going to go to a party and buy a date for Valentine’s Day? Especially when you can have most of the men in town for a plate of fried chicken and a Bundt cake.”
“I don’t know,” Miss Vera said thoughtfully. “Depends on who’s for sale. If Grant Chamberlain is on the auction block, I might have to dip into Herman’s life insurance money. You know, for a good cause.”
“Might be fun to watch,” Sarah said. “They’re selling tickets for the event, so everyone contributes to the cause, whether or not you bid.”
Pepper got out her scissors and started trimming the ends of Miss Francine’s hair. Morbid curiosity might get her to the auction, but she wasn’t bidding. She was saving every penny she could for renovations to her house. A date for Valentine’s Day was fleeting. Her home was forever.
It had taken her five years to save up for a down payment on the tiny house just off the square in the historic district. Unlike many of the other houses in that area, it was just in her price range, but unfortunately, there was a reason for that. It needed a lot of work. She’d lived in the house since last summer and had gotten it to functional, but only mildly livable.
If she was going to drop a couple hundred or even a couple thousand dollars for a man’s time, he would have to be an electrician or a plumber. Maybe a drywall guy. She certainly wasn’t going to waste her money on a hard body and a pretty face.
Besides, she’d already had Grant Chamberlain for free.
About the Author
Andrea Laurence is an award-winning contemporary author who has been a lover of books and writing stories since she learned to read. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be able to share her books with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own “happily ever after” with her boyfriend and five fur-babies. You can contact Andrea at her website: AndreaLaurence.com.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Andrea Laurence
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition September 2014
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ISBN 978-1-4767-7642-2