Sticky Notes - A clean romance (Ethel King Series Book 1)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  “I think it looks nice,” Quinn said.

  “I know you went to Benton’s office, the beauty parlor, and Tidyman’s. Did you visit someone? Grandma, you were gone for over seven hours.”

  “I was out and about. It was a beautiful day.” Looking at Quinn, Ethel ever so casually used her left foot to kick Katherine in the shinbone again beneath the table.

  Katherine’s jaw dropped. But, of course, she had no idea where she’d been.

  “Back to your exciting news, Ethel,” Quinn said.

  “Yes, when I paid my parking ticket, you see . . . I was inspired to tell the young woman behind the counter that I had an idea to improve the university in regards to senior relations. These three sweet gals rallied together and decided to send me straight to the top. I was escorted from the ground floor up to President Morrison’s office.”

  For some reason, Quinn smiled first across the table at Katherine before he smiled at her.

  “Believe it or not, President Morrison liked my idea so much that he said . . .” Ethel pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to recall his exact wording. “He said, and I quote”—she held up two fingers of each hand and did the little bunny ear sign—“‘I feel your idea is visionary on a broader scale.’ He wants me to write up my plans, and he’ll submit it to the law school, maybe even Latah County.”

  “What was your idea, Grandma?”

  “Well . . .” Ethel took a sip of milk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Katherine waving the new package of yellow sticky notes. Maybe Katherine’s electrolytes were off. Too bad she hadn’t bought her Gatorade when she’d been at Tidyman’s. When Ethel turned to look fully at her, Katherine dropped the sticky notes onto the counter behind her and rubbed the back of her head like she had a sudden ache.

  The bout of food poisoning had affected her brain. Hopefully, it wasn’t too severe. Had Quinn read Katherine’s Oh, brother paper yet? Maybe he was in for a good laugh.

  “Yes, Ethel, I’m curious, too.” Quinn leaned forward and snagged another slice of bread. “What idea did you tell President Morrison?”

  “Has the US ever had a President Morrison?” Ethel wanted to get the question out of the way before she forgot about it.

  “No. We’ve had a Hamilton and a Harris,” Katherine said. “No Morrison.”

  Even Quinn looked impressed.

  “Back to my idea.” Ethel giggled. “It was parking for seniors—over age sixty-five. The sign will be a white background with a green turtle walking on her hind legs carrying a cane. I kind of like the idea of it being a female turtle wearing a straw hat with maybe a flower pinned to the side.”

  Quinn clapped.

  Ethel turned to Katherine and waited for her response.

  Mouth ajar, she set both elbows on the table. “That’s wonderful, Grandma. I’m very proud of you. For your sake, I hope it gets put into action.”

  “Me, too. Especially at the Palouse Empire Mall and Tidyman’s.”

  Quinn dangled his fork and smiled whole-heartedly across the table at Katherine.

  And she smiled back.

  The two were finally getting along.

  Ж

  Friday morning after Katherine strolled off to school, Ethel ambled out the back gate and opened her trunk. She pulled out the rolled-up poster of Miss Palouse. Fran, one of Claire Westin’s staunch supporters, had just happened to have an extra behind the counter. When Ethel returned home yesterday, she’d parked next to Quinn’s car and immediately stashed the poster in her trunk. Whew! It had been a close one.

  According to Fran, Claire Westin had once owned the only video rental store in Palouse and knew everyone in town by name. Just like Ronald Reagan, she was making the big step from movies to politics.

  Ethel carried the poster into the house. She knew exactly where she was going to hang it. She pulled open her junk drawer in the kitchen, nabbed the roll of Scotch tape, and proceeded to her room. Years ago when she’d been trying to slim down a bit, she’d taped a poster of calories to the back of her bedroom door. The fancy molding on the door almost made the poster look framed. It was the same with Claire’s. The poster gave her room a fun, Western feel. After the November elections, she might just keep it there.

  During her drive home yesterday, Ethel had prayed about how to handle Miss Palouse’s poster and where to hang it. That was when the Lord had reminded her of the big cupcake on the front of her old calorie poster. If for some reason, Quinn or Katherine ever went into her bedroom and saw Claire Westin, it was God’s doing, not just hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Friday evening while Katherine did the dinner dishes, she contemplated if she should stay home or go to the library to study. She didn’t have any research that she needed library resources for, but the idea of simply staying home while Benton was on his date with Miss Palouse didn’t sit well for some reason. She needed to keep her mind busy.

  The last time Quinn had visited, he’d left his beloved book on the kitchen table. Grandma had moved it to the coffee table. Seated in the recliner, Grandma was immersed in a crossword puzzle. Katherine picked up the books The Last of the Mohicans and American Scripture off the coffee table and strolled into the kitchen. She held the books against each other. They were exactly the same size. She smiled and switched jacket covers. She slid American Scripture, which was now titled The Last of the Mohicans, into her backpack and carried American Scripture into the living room.

  “Grandma, Quinn left his book here last night.” She set it down on the coffee table.

  “I tried to get him to take it home, but right before he left, he set it on the table. I agree with you. You should focus on your studies; your studies come first.”

  “Thank you, Grandma.” Her heart warmed.

  “And I think for Quinn’s sake, you should read a chapter or two of his book and then tell him you tried.”

  “That’s called straddling the fence.”

  “Can you heat me up a cup of coffee?” Grandma peered over the top of her glasses at her.

  “Sure.”

  While a cup of coffee rotated in the microwave, Katherine began reading the lengthy introduction to American Scripture.

  The phone rang. The clock on the stove read 6:50. Maybe it was Benton. Maybe Miss Palouse had canceled, again. She hoped not for Benton’s sake.

  “Hello,” Katherine said into the receiver.

  There was a sniffle on the other end of the line. “Is this Katherine?”

  “Hi, Angel. What’s wrong?” Katherine pulled a chair over from the dining table and sat down.

  “Greg and I just broke up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I built him up for our four-month, just like he’d built me up for our three-month.” Sniffle. “He wasn’t very happy about the chili.”

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” Poor Angel.

  “I just found out that my boyfriend.” Sniffle. “My ex-boyfriend has no sense of humor. I had candlelight, Billy Joel music, and one of those silver lid things covering the chili. When I lifted it up, I knew we were history.”

  It wasn’t a very pretty picture.

  “Remember how I told you about Joe and how he broke my heart?”

  “Yeah.”

  “After he broke my heart, I wrote a list of all the reasons I’d never fall in love with him again. My Joe List helped me see that he wasn’t the one God intended me to be with.”

  “Yeah, but you’re too smart to fall for another dumb jock like Joe. But Greg, I thought we were perfect.”

  “When we get off the phone, I want you to write a list, and I’m going to pray for you tonight. And I’m so sorry that I ever told you to make chili.”

  “Greg’s so stupid.”

  “Write that as your first line of your Greg List.”

  “I will right now.” Sniffle. “Thanks for praying for me.”

  After Katherine hung up the phone, she lifted Angel up in prayer.

  “Was that Angel, who was here the o
ther night?” Grandma asked.

  “Yes, her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s heartbroken, and asked for prayer.”

  “Awh . . . I’ll do that right now for her, too.”

  Katherine delivered Grandma’s coffee. She couldn’t just sit at home for the next four hours waiting for the clock to cuckoo away four hours. What if Benton’s date went well? Would tonight be the last professors’ group? Would he still come to dinner occasionally at Grandma’s? She had to get out of the house. She grabbed her backpack off the floor near the couch.

  “Where are you going, honey?”

  “I think I’ll study at the library tonight.” She shrugged and gave Grandma a brave smile.

  “Oh, well, before you leave why don’t you go in my bedroom and look at yourself in my mirror.”

  “Why?” Didn’t Grandma like her outfit? She was still wearing the clothes she’d worn to class. The day had been overcast, and she’d chosen jeans and a short-sleeved, crisp white blouse with little black buttons and a gathering of front ruffles.

  “Well, you don’t have a full-length mirror in your room.”

  “Okay.” Katherine flicked on the overhead light in Grandma’s bedroom and strolled across the shag carpet. In front of the oak framed cheval mirror, she checked her zipper, turned and swiveled. Lastly, she peered at her face, smiled like a horse, and checked to see if there was something in her teeth. Hmm . . . She looked fine.

  The phone rang in the living room. There was only one phone on the main floor, and Grandma was quick to pick it up.

  “I think it’s the guy from that radio commercial for Werther’s candies,” Grandma said covering the receiver. “Maybe it’s a survey.”

  Who in the world?

  “Tell him I like butterscotch best.” Grandma handed her the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Katherine, it’s Evans. We have a social emergency.”

  “What’s happened?” Knees weak, Katherine pulled a dining chair close to the cabinet and sat down.

  “For the second time in a row, Miss Palouse has canceled on Benton. Water issues in her basement, most likely it’s her water heater.”

  “Oh.” It dawned on her that Evans had said social emergency. Relief flooded her. “How’s he holding up?” In the kitchen, Grandma closed a cupboard.

  “As we all know, Benton could have easily fixed it, but Miss Amazing Phone Voice had already called a plumber. He’s in need of cheering up. Therefore, Cindy and I have decided . . .” He exhaled a heavy sigh. “To make our date at the antique store a fivesome.”

  “Miss Colfax’s antique store?”

  “Yes. I just got off the phone with her, and she is absolutely fine with our party being upped from two to five.”

  Five meant Carl was going. Benton wasn’t with Miss Palouse. Their evening had been canceled for the second time. The poor man.

  “Bring your checkbook or cash. Miss Colfax won’t be on site for Visa transactions.”

  “Oh, I won’t buy anything.”

  “Can you be ready in the next ten minutes?”

  “Huh?” She glanced at the cuckoo clock. Usually, the group met at eleven not seven. “I have so much reading; I really shouldn’t.”

  “Bring your books. I expect we can find a place for you to study. Dinner will be Taco Time takeout on fine china. Cindy made a Bundt cake for dessert.”

  Katherine had already eaten, not that it mattered. Could this possibly be just another creative way to set her up with Carl? She hoped not.

  “Cindy confirmed—you can bring your books.”

  Katherine pictured Cindy’s dangly earrings bobbing as she nodded in the background.

  “It’s going to take all four of us to bring Benton out of his quandary.”

  She inhaled deeply. Evans wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  Hopefully, Evans wasn’t kidding when he said she could study. Katherine packed a flashlight and extra AA batteries. She might have to camp out in a separate room if the group was loud. She’d always been a studier who needed peace and quiet to focus; she should have declined.

  “That was Evans, Grandma; Miss Palouse canceled on Benton for the second time.”

  “Wow, poor Quinn. That’s the second heart broken tonight. Be careful,” Grandma said from the recliner.

  “Grandma.” Katherine bent down and kissed her cheek. “I have no idea what time I’ll be home. Knowing this group, it’ll be late; they’re a bunch of night owls.”

  “Then they’re a parliament, not a bunch. Are you discussing Miss Palouse tonight?”

  Clasping her hand, Grandma looked up at her.

  “Yes and no. She canceled, which is why the group’s going to Colfax to cheer Benton up. Why I’m invited is an oxymoron.” In the front windows, Evans’s silver Cadillac Seville rolled up beneath the weeping cherry tree.

  “I bet he’s crushed.” Grandma sighed. “What’s an oxy . . . moron again?”

  “Bittersweet. Um . . . me cheering Benton up.” It was the best that she could do at the moment.

  Grandma’s skimpy brows gathered as she nodded.

  Katherine strolled down the concrete walk and unlatched the gate. Cindy sat in the front seat; her Giorgio perfume was subtle, pleasant. Katherine placed her backpack on the floor in the back and glanced across the cab at Benton. For some reason, Carl wasn’t present. Maybe they were picking him up on the way, which most likely meant she’d sit in the middle.

  “Cute little place. Has your grandmother lived here long?” Evans asked, turning onto the Troy highway.

  “Forty years.”

  “So you grew up coming here?” He glanced back at her in the rearview mirror.

  “Yes, I always wanted to attend the U of I and live with Grandma, like several of my older cousins.”

  She forced herself to acknowledge Benton, somber in jeans and a Yale-blue polo. “I’m sorry to hear that Miss Palouse canceled.”

  His jaw muscle twitched. “If it happens a third time, I won’t try again.”

  “I should hope not,” Evans said.

  They passed several good restaurants as they cruised north on Main Street; instead, they were driving over twenty-five miles to order fast food. The atmosphere was what Evans and Cindy were definitely after.

  “Is Carl coming?” Katherine forced herself to ask.

  “Yes; he’ll be pleased to hear you inquired of him,” Evans said. “He’s meeting us there.”

  “I was simply curious.”

  Benton was quiet while Cindy and Evans conversed up front. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable drive. Katherine unzipped her backpack and pulled out her Lewis and Clark textbook.

  “You won’t get carsick?” Benton asked.

  “No, thank goodness.” In her undergraduate years, she’d spent countless hours studying in the team van while the coach drove to away matches.

  Benton flipped open his phone and, looking at a piece of scratch paper, entered a number. “Hello, Marci, it’s Quinn Benton. A group of friends and I are heading to Colfax tonight for a get-together at Colfax Antiques, the two-story brick building on the main drag. I don’t know if you’re doing anything tonight, but Colfax is, at least, ten miles closer than Pullman for you.”

  The man was interesting; probably another woman from a neighboring small town. He was zealously searching, she could say that for him.

  “Yes, she’s a regular member of the group. Uh-huh. I see. Well, in case you change your mind, we’ll be there for several hours. Great group of people.” Benton clicked his phone closed. “Miss Garfield is a Realtor. She had a sale fail today.”

  “Is the she that Marci referred to . . . Katherine?” Cindy asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  “Yes. I informed her once that one of our graduate students attends the group.”

  Nothing to read into, Katherine told herself. It was odd that Marci asked about her, though. Hmm . . .

  “Isn’t she the one who’s also actively blind dating?” Evans asked.


  “Yes. I forgot she’s on a blind date right now.”

  “Oops.” Cindy giggled. “Isn’t she the one who describes herself as quite attractive, but won’t send a picture?”

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Do you send pictures?” Katherine asked.

  Benton frowned and shook his head.

  “All he has to say is ‘college professor, early thirties, never been married,’” Evans said.

  “Tonight, while we’re there, remind me that I want to look for a chair for my office,” Benton said, “something solid and a little more inviting than that old, metal one.”

  “Miss Colfax said there’s a calculator at the front counter, and to remember to add seven percent sales tax,” Evans said.

  “She’s very trusting,” Cindy said.

  “She knows Benton, and most professors are a good lot.” Evans pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket and handed it to Cindy. “It’s Carl. Tell him I’m driving.”

  She flipped it open. “Hello, Carl; it’s Cindy. We’re just reaching Pullman. Where are you? Oh. Uh-huh . . .”

  Katherine capped her highlighter. Was he canceling?

  “Yes, I’ll remember.” Cindy snapped the phone closed. “Carl’s running twenty minutes late. But he wants us to get him two burritos and an empanada.”

  “Make sure he reimburses you, Benton,” Evans said.

  Another clue about Carl.

  “And make sure that you both apologize to him tonight,” Evans added. “He was a little peeved with you for your driveway getaway scene last week. Was it planned?”

  “No,” Benton said.

  “Good.” Evans glanced in the rearview mirror. “Katherine, I’d personally like you to apologize to Carl about The Breakfast Club scene. It’s very difficult for most men to summon the courage to ask a woman out.”

  “Not Carl,” Benton said.

  “To be rejected on speaker phone in a public place proved difficult even for Carl. It’s affected him more than you realize,” Evans said.

  Brows gathered, Katherine glanced at Benton.

  “There were three tables of people listening,” he said. “Have you ever been to The Breakfast Club?”