Love Is All Around

by Rae Davies

  “If you want jewelry, why didn’t you tell them that?” Sometimes Ruthann was as spineless as a jellyfish.

  “I don’t know. I’ll just be glad to get out of the B & B. I ran into Leroy at the BiggeeMart too. If you wait too long, all their openings’ll be gone.”

  Horror of horrors. “I’ll risk it.” Patsy touched her pocket to make sure her phone was still there. It was.

  “I don’t know why you’re so set against working there.” Ruthann slumped in her chair. “We’ve worked together since high school.”

  Patsy looked at her friend. “Don’t you ever want more? See the world? Live someplace where everybody doesn’t know everything about you—from when you started your period to your first kiss? Where people don’t judge you based on your family or mistakes in your past? Where people aren’t constantly scrapping for a job to keep a roof over their heads? Don’t you?”

  Ruthann blinked. “I never thought of living anywhere else. I guess it doesn’t bother me people know all about me. Saves me having to explain, but sure, I want more. Everybody does.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Patsy’s pie was almost gone. Should she open a second?

  “You want a pie?” she asked.

  Ruthann’s look bordered on horrified. “I don’t know how you eat those things. They’re disgusting.”

  Patsy was unapologetic. “I like them. Besides, they have fruit in them. I just wish they still made the pudding ones. Then I could get my dairy too.” To emphasize her point, she ripped into the second bag.

  Shaking her head, Ruthann switched back to the earlier topic. “You really want to leave us? That’s what you want more than anything?” A tear threatened to roll down her cheek.

  Damn it all. Patsy didn’t mean to upset her. She set the untouched pie to the side. “‘Course not. I just want...” A chirping sounded from her pocket. It took a beat to recognize her cell’s ring. Will. She yanked the phone out of her pocket, then realized he wouldn’t have this number. Disappointment caused her to stare at the small screen blankly. The phone rang again, breaking the spell. Rolla number. Glenn.

  She signaled Ruthann she’d be back and popped out the back door onto the patio.

  “Patsy, you interested in the web job?” Glenn’s voice boomed at her. “It doesn’t pay much, but it could lead to bigger things. You still interested?”

  Nervous, Patsy’s confirmation came out in a squeak.

  “Great, meet me tomorrow for lunch? We can iron out the details then.”

  Clutching her phone to her chest, Patsy performed a little pirouette. This was it, her chance. She was leaving Daisy Creek.

  The bluebird popped back out of his simple home, looked around and flew off over the neighboring house’s roofline. Blowing him a kiss, Patsy skipped back into the kitchen.

  Chapter 5

  A pigeon stared down at Will as he pulled into the newspaper’s parking lot. Probably looking for a good place to crap. The way his week was going, he was surprised Patsy Clark hadn’t organized a whole flock to circle overhead and drop missiles like B52 bombers on a raid. Giving his exquisitely clean Beamer a final look, he tromped toward the News building.

  Only published Wednesdays and Saturdays, the Daisy Creek News was a small operation, not big enough for a separate building. Instead, they inhabited an old factory a block off the courthouse square. The front was occupied by a diner, the kind of place where coffee was served in thick china cups with a saucer, the tables were chrome with scarred Formica tops, and biscuits with white gravy was the special of the day.

  Will wound his way up the metal staircase. A twenty-something with a gigantic coffee stain on her blouse gave him a tired smile when he stepped through the door.

  Dabbing at her shirt with a shredded paper napkin, she said, “You Will Barnes? Richard told me to wait on you. Go on in.”

  With the unsettling feeling he should apologize for something, he quickly stepped past her and into the office.

  Richard looked up from an oak desk yellowed with age. “So you planning on making your next million in Daisy Creek?”

  Richard hadn’t changed much over the years.

  “You tell me. Is there a million to be made here?” Will settled into an office chair that matched Richard’s desk.

  Richard laughed, a startling sound in the little room. “There’s always money to be made. The problem is you have to have some to make some, don’t you?”

  Will chose not to respond. He was smart enough to not volunteer financing until he’d heard the other man’s proposal. Besides, he wasn’t interested in backing something. He wanted to start something. Make something from nothing.

  Richard leaned forward. “I’ll be straight with you. I’ve got a line on what could be the best thing to hit Daisy Creek since the mines moved out and the factories closed up.”

  The chair’s hard back cut into Will’s shoulders, but he remained still.

  “It’s a real humdinger of an opportunity for the county—new jobs and not flipping burgers either. Good paying work in construction to start and then driving and management.”

  Might as well let him talk.

  “People around here need this. The problem is it’s going to take some delicate handling. Now, I’ve talked to some of the guys on the town council and people like David Wood, and we’re all in agreement, but there will surely be some folks as don’t see it our way. We’re going to need money to help convince them, especially if we want to put a road through somebody’s hay field. Or, even better, with a little financial backing, we might be able to just step around them altogether.”

  Will didn’t bother to hide his confusion. “What kind of project are you talking about?”

  “A smelter.” Richard beamed at Will like he’d just handed him a hundred million shares of Microsoft stock. “Sunrise Mines is working on starting a new mine south of here, and they’re interested in building a second smelter closer to the excavation site. Daisy Creek is prime territory, right on the route north to St. Louis. We just need to help them smooth things over.” He drew his hands out in a straight line. “You know, getting land for a new road and the smelter itself. Plus, there will probably be a few environmental types whining and stomping around. But if we can pull it off, it’ll mean big money for everybody.”

  With his face devoid of emotion, Will asked, “I can see how this might bring jobs to the area, but how’s it going to bring me personally a return on any money I invest?”

  Richard grinned. “Simple. We’ll all keep mum about the new smelter. No reason to get people riled up before we have to anyway. You go in and buy up cheap farm land for the smelter and as much of the roadway as possible. Then you get to turn it around for a quick profit to Sunrise.”

  Richard leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “Then there’s the land around the new road. It’ll be a major roadway. Taking it will cut off miles for folks coming down this way from St. Louis, with the benefit of still being scenic. By the time word gets out what’s going on, you’ll already own the best frontage. You turn over a few acres for the road itself. Wait a bit and sell that prime property for big money. In return, we’re able to guarantee Sunrise no resistance from the locals who own the land right now, ‘cause by then you’ll be sitting on all the deeds.”

  Richard’s grin indicated the Microsoft shares just split.

  Will had doubts of how “scenic” a road past a smelter would be, but he let it pass. “And what’s in it for you and the others?” he asked.

  Richard pushed himself away from his desk an inch or two. “Well, mainly we’re just looking out for the financial needs of Daisy Creek. That’s the major motivator for all of us.” He paused. “But since you’ll be pocketing such a substantial chunk of change from the deal, we think it’d only be fair if we took a small cut. Say twenty-five percent of the profit once you sell to Sunrise.”

  Sounded like a fair cut for bilking farmers out of the profit on their land. Maybe they could talk some old ladies out of their
wedding rings too. Or break into some preschoolers’ piggy banks.

  “That’s certainly an interesting proposal,” Will replied.

  “I thought you might like it. Nothing like having a surefire moneymaker handed to you, is there?”

  “Nothing like it.” Will studied the man across the desk from him. Should he turn him down cold or let him simmer a few days?

  “Sure wish I had the assets to let my money do my work for me.” Richard chuckled. “It’s a rough life, but one of us has to live it, right?”

  “Right.” Let him simmer.

  Claiming problems with his home remodel, Will escaped without having to endure an hour over greasy biscuits with Richard. His Beamer sat where he left it, as did the pigeon. He quickly assessed his paint job—not a spot on it. Finally, his luck was turning.

  Opening his door, he waved a thank-you at the bird. With a lift of his tail, the pigeon returned the gesture. Hell. Will slammed his door and drove for home.

  o0o

  Today, Patsy planned to drive to Rolla to meet with Glenn. Her life was on track. Her latest tour past Will’s revealed a convoy of panel trucks and a procession of welcome-to-Daisy-Creek casseroles. Hope he liked Campbell’s mushroom mixed with everything. She grinned into the mirror.

  Behind her reflection, Ruthann sulked on the bed.

  “He didn’t say what kind of job this was? Who it’s for?” Ruthann roused herself to ask.

  Patsy flung open her closet. Suit, too formal. Cargo pants, not formal enough. Patsy’s hand touched the smooth material of an ocean-blue cotton skirt. Perfect. It stopped right below the knee, not too sassy, not stodgy. Team it with a peasant blouse and she’d be set. She started changing.

  Ruthann raised her voice. “Did he say who the job’s for?”

  Through the filmy material of her shirt, Patsy answered, “No, but it doesn’t matter. I’d design a site auctioning souls for Satan if it got me out of here.”

  Ruthann crossed her arms and slumped against the pillows. “That’s nothing to joke about.”

  After zipping up her skirt, Patsy climbed onto the bed to get a view of herself in the dresser mirror. “Damn. I need shoes. I wish I’d bought those sandals we saw at the Shoe Hut last week. All I have are satin pumps from my cousin’s wedding. I’ll look like a prom reject.”

  “You talked to Will lately?” Ruthann asked.

  Busy analyzing her footwear choices, Patsy ignored her.

  “Jessica said his house is looking real nice, guess he got that window fixed and now they’re working on the kitchen.”

  Jessica had been at Will’s?

  “I guess he offered to take her to lunch, but she could see he was real busy. He insisted on sharing some of the dishes that people have been dropping off for him, though. She said it was real cute the way he pressed them on her.”

  Patsy would like to press something on her, or press her under something—like a semi.

  Ruthann smoothed the wrinkles out of Patsy’s bedspread. “He invited you over yet?”

  Patsy was not playing Beat the Bimbo. Well, not unless there was actually some real beating involved. “What am I going to do about my shoes?” She thrust her bare foot into Ruthann’s face.

  With a sigh, Ruthann leaned over the side of the bed and yanked her backpack up beside her. Rooting inside it, she said, “I knew you’d do this. You never think about important things like clothes, at least not until it’s too late. Here.” She flung a package wrapped in rainbow paper across the bed. “They were supposed to be for your birthday, but since I don’t even know if you’ll remember me by then, I thought I should give it to you now. Think of it as a good-luck present.” Her frown didn’t exactly relay kisses and hugs.

  “Are you sure?” Patsy lowered to her knees next to the gift. “My birthday isn’t for....”

  “Just open it.” Ruthann shoved the box closer.

  Patsy ripped aside a rainbow and peeled the lid off the box. “The sandals. But you can’t afford....”

  “I took the job at BiggeeMart. I start in two weeks.”

  Patsy blinked at her friend. “You took the job?”

  “Yeah, now try on the shoes.”

  “Did you get jewelry?”

  Ruthann reached into the box and removed a silver sandal. Tiny shells hung from its thin straps. “I don’t know why you like this beach stuff. There’s not an ocean for what, three states?”

  Who thought in states?

  “Here, try it on.” Ruthann pushed the shoe into Patsy’s hand.

  Patsy pulled on the shoes and fastened the tiny buckles. “What do you think?” The shells clicked against each other as she twisted her foot.

  “I think I’m losing my best friend,” Ruthann replied.

  Imagining Jessica spooning casserole into Will’s open mouth, Patsy had to wonder if she might be losing something too.

  o0o

  Ruthann had walked Patsy to her Jeep, then sped off to her shift at the B & B. Patsy stuffed a notebook and some pens into a bag and headed to Rolla. She wasn’t really worried about losing something to Jessica again. If Will started seeing Jessica, it would make him that much more off limits. Patsy wouldn’t touch a man Jessica had touched with rubber gloves and a face mask.

  She hit the brake as she passed into Rolla’s city limits. Glenn had let her pick the restaurant. She chose a childhood favorite, a pizza parlor with thin-crust pies cut into little squares and served on dented aluminum pans.

  Glenn was waiting when she arrived.

  Over six feet tall and what her mother would call big-boned, he was attractive in a kilt-wearing, caber-tossing kind of way. Not a bad thing in a man, if not exactly Patsy’s taste. She shook her head to dislodge the thought. She was not thinking about Will. She was thinking about getting a job.

  Glenn whipped a chair out for her to sit down. With butterflies performing a two-step in her stomach, Patsy plunked her bag into her lap and dug inside for a notebook. This was it. She had to act professional, put all other thoughts behind her. When she looked up, Glenn was watching her.

  “You excited?” he asked with a huge smile.

  The waitress wandered over, and they placed their order. Not surprisingly, Glenn was a meat eater.

  “Top mine with pepperoni, sausage, hamburger, and ham.”

  “How about a little poodle? I think I saw one on my way into town,” Patsy quipped.

  “If you can round him up, roast him and toss him on. I haven’t had good French food since I left Minneapolis.” Glenn slapped the table and let out a belly laugh.

  Patsy grinned back, but spoke to the waitress. “Onion for me.”

  “Guess I know where I stand.”

  Patsy couldn’t tell if he was teasing or serious. She hadn’t thought of today’s lunch as anything other than an opportunity to get some web business. Did Glenn think it was more? Just what she didn’t need, another man messing with her mind. Not that she thought the first one would leave too much room for a second. He seemed to fill every unguarded moment.

  Glenn plowed on. “Well, let’s get down to it. I’ll fill you in on what Sunrise is up against and then you give me your thoughts.”

  Mention of the mines jerked Patsy back to the conversation. “Sunrise?”

  “Yeah, didn’t I say the site is for Sunrise Mines? They’re starting a new operation south of Daisy Creek, near Sauk City.”

  Lead mines. The butterflies turned in their cowboy boots for clogs.

  “Is something wrong? You got kind of pale all of a sudden.”

  The waitress arrived with their pizzas, giving Patsy a minute to consider her response.

  “You have a problem with the mines? ‘Cause that’s the whole reason they want a special site. Some locals are putting up a stink, and they want somewhere to present their side of things.”

  That sounded reasonable. “I wouldn’t say I have a problem really.”

  “But…?”

  Patsy hesitated. Glancing at Glenn’s earnest gaze, she cont
inued, “When I was little, there was a creek near Blackhaw where we used to hunt sparkly rocks.” Patsy paused. “All closed in by oaks and dogwoods, shallow water, perfect for wading in, but deep enough in spots for crawdaddies and minnows. We’d take off our shoes and splash around. My brother’d catch crawdads, and I’d hunt rocks.”

  Patsy picked an onion off her pizza with her nail. “Last time I was there, it was gone. The mines filled it with slag. The trees are dead. No stream, no crawdaddies, nothing but slag. It looks like a graveyard out of some old black-and-white movie.”

  Glenn set the slice of pizza he’d picked up back on his plate. “If you don’t want to do this, I can find someone else. There’s no pressure.”

  Yeah, no pressure at all—just the only opportunity she’d ever have to get out of Daisy Creek. Patsy peeled another onion off the pizza. Face it, Sunrise wasn’t Satan.

  She picked up her new ballpoint, clicked the button on top, and replied, “No, I want to do it. Tell me what they need.”

  Glenn gave her a quick rundown on what Sunrise wanted, timeframe, and pay. “So you think you’ve got a handle on it?” Glenn asked, a meat-laden square of pizza inches from his mouth.

  “Yeah. Basically, they want to play up the pluses and downplay the minuses.” Patsy twirled the aluminum plate around in a circle.

  “I guess that’s one way to put it, but I think of it more as showing there’s two sides to every coin.”

  “Even a wooden nickel?” What made her say that? She smiled to take the edge off, but Glenn just chuckled.

  “I don’t think Sunrise is going to be buying land for beads. They aren’t conning anybody, just reassuring more like.” He took another chomp of pizza.

  Yeah, just reassuring. She could do that.

  o0o

  The next day, Patsy wandered into work bleary-eyed and fuzzy-headed. She hadn’t slept too well. Her dreams had been haunted by slag-covered beavers and hollow-eyed children, both in search of a stream free of mine waste. In her slumber, she worked away the night, scraping gray gunk off the beaver and justifying her web job to the children.

  It was like a bad episode of The X-Files.