Thankfully, he’d probably already seen the cartoon movie playing downtown—with Mims.
Competitive outrage tried to smother the flutter in her chest. Mims had identified David as a catch before she had. Edith ignored her annoyance. Colorado winters were long and cold. Men needed to warm up. Food…food they could get anywhere, including down the hall in the cafeteria. The holiday season was always busy, and she had matchmaking duties to fulfill. But David…He was popular, like Charlie had been. Whatever woman landed him would belong wherever he belonged.
She ran her hand over the cool, smooth granite. She was living on a single income in a run-down bungalow she and Charlie had purchased a few years after their marriage. She didn’t think she could afford an apartment like this, even if she sold her house.
She wanted to be in the Widows Club but, if she couldn’t be on the board, she’d take David.
Edith smiled harder.
* * *
“There you are.” A few days after Iggy fired her, Mary Margaret entered Olde Time Bakery and came to stand by her grandmother. “You had me worried. You said you wanted to talk and then you didn’t answer my calls.”
In the morning, the bakery catered to harried moms who needed treats for work and school. In the afternoon, its business relied on weary workers, harried families, and high school students. Shy little Louise was at a nearby table with her mother. The Bodine twins sat at a table in the back sucking down iced coffees and smiling at teenage girls behind the counter. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, covered in twinkle lights and white crocheted snowflakes.
“I’ve been catching up on my research.” Grandma Edith flipped through Cosmopolitan magazine in between bites of strudel. She paused on a feature about what men really wanted, which seemed to involve lots of lacy lingerie and chocolate-covered strawberries. “This will be helpful as I re-enter the dating scene. I can’t rely on Mims for advice.”
Mary Margaret escaped the image of her grandmother dating and needing sexy underthings, and stood in line for coffee. On impulse, she also ordered a small chocolate cake pop because she deserved a treat and it was in the day-old case.
Laurel and Hardy entered, immediately making Mary Margaret feel guilty for her one-dollar cake pop splurge. It was snowing outside, and as usual, the two out-of-towners looked cold in their thin, black leather jackets. That cold spread to Mary Margaret’s veins.
Sour Mr. Hardy rubbed his arms and headed straight for the counter, shouting for a hot black coffee.
Tall Mr. Laurel paused just inside the doorway, took in Grandma Edith and her magazine, took out a much-bitten red stir stick from his mouth, and grinned. It was an I’m-interested-in-you smile.
Now Mary Margaret was afraid for an entirely different reason. Grandma Edith was too friendly for her own good. And Mr. Laurel wasn’t good enough for her grandmother.
“Stop that,” she told him, having reached deep and found her spine.
Grandma Edith glanced up to see who Mary Margaret was speaking to. Edith had at least fifteen more years on her tires than the taller half of the debt-collecting duo but she blushed under his grin. “You’re never too old to brush up on new tricks.” She slid the open magazine in front of Mary Margaret. “Thanks for letting me have a look-see.”
Mr. Laurel joined his partner in line, humming to the cheery Christmas carol filling the air.
“That is a hard no,” Mary Margaret told her grandmother, nodding toward Mr. Laurel.
“Young lady.” Grandma Edith squared her shoulders. “I haven’t let anyone tell me a boy is off limits since high school.”
“Boy?” That man could break both their legs.
As if privy to her thoughts, Mr. Laurel snapped the remains of his chewed stir stick in half and tossed it in the trash.
Mary Margaret gripped her grandmother’s forearm. “I still say no.”
Kevin entered the bakery with Tad. “It’s not a mile-high whip, buddy, but a cold day like today deserves a hot chocolate.” His gaze lit on Mary Margaret, the magazine, and the cake pop, which she had yet to eat. He grinned. “Now that’s living dangerously.”
His sly smile didn’t get past Grandma Edith. “I must be doing something wrong with you,” she muttered, studying Mary Margaret. “If it was any of my business who you date”—she sniffed—“I’d tell you to date that one.” She jabbed her finger in the direction of Kevin’s retreating back. “Aren’t you the least bit interested?”
Mary Margaret stuffed the entire cake pop in her mouth and shook her head.
Laurel and Hardy sat at the next table with giant cups of steaming coffee.
Mr. Laurel had swiped a fresh stir stick. He also swiped Grandma Edith’s Cosmo. He read the headline out loud. “‘What a man wants’?” He smoothed out the pages and scanned the article. “They’ve got it all wrong. They don’t even have a warm bed and a foot massage on the list.”
“My husband used to love foot massages,” Grandma Edith said in a dreamy tone of voice. “Whatever made him happy, made me happy.”
Mary Margaret choked down her stale cake. “I don’t want to be part of this conversation.”
“I like a woman who speaks her mind.” Chuckling, Mr. Laurel slid the open Cosmo back onto their table.
Mary Margaret flipped the magazine closed, cover face down on the table. “What did you want to talk to me about?” She had a dance number to practice and worksheets to grade.
“Do you come here often?” Mr. Laurel asked Grandma Edith.
“Do you mind?” Mary Margaret scowled at him, pulled her table farther away from him, and then tugged her grandmother’s chair to her side.
“Have we met?” Grandma Edith’s brow furrowed as she eyed Mr. Laurel. “I feel as if I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“You haven’t met. He’s a stranger. Eyes on me, Grandma. Have you forgotten why you wanted to talk to me?”
Her grandmother’s frown deepened.
Tad skipped over to lean on Louise’s table, gushing toward his crush. Someday it’d be Tad and Louise with the teen crowd at the back of the bakery. Maybe he’d remember his kindergarten teacher fondly. Maybe he’d recall how she’d mysteriously disappeared one Christmas, body found in the woods years later.
Maudlin! Maudlin! Stop being so maudlin!
Kevin came to stand near Mary Margaret with a cup of coffee. He studied the pair of cold debt collectors. “Have we met?”
“No.” Mr. Hardy held his open coffee cup beneath his nose, as if the steam was needed to warm his face.
Grandma Edith warbled with the carols piped through the speakers. She was off-key and off-tempo but her heart was in it. She never did anything in half measures.
“She’s good,” Mr. Laurel commented. “Do you sing in a choir, honey?”
“No, but I should.” Grandma Edith had the kind of confidence and thick skin Mary Margaret could only dream of. If only her grandmother had better taste in men.
Mary Margaret tried to reach through the mist of her grandmother’s attention again. “If I step outside and call you, will you pick up the phone and tell me what you wanted to talk about?” That earned her a no-nonsense smirk from Grandma Edith.
Pearl Conklin marched in. She was the head waitress at the Saddle Horn diner and was spry for her age, not that anyone had the audacity to ask her age. “Mayor Hadley. Just the man I was looking for. You’ve got to put the kibosh on that distribution center nonsense. We’re not that kind of town.”
“What kind of town?” Kevin watched Tad run over to pick up his hot chocolate from the counter. He doted on that rascal. If Mary Margaret wasn’t so stressed about her financial situation, her heart might have melted a little.
“The kind of town that grows into a city.” Pearl white-knuckled her grip on the slim strap of her white purse. Her puff jacket was also white and matched her white snow boots. “The next thing you know, we’ll be building a sports complex and a foreign car dealership.”
“Would that really be so bad?” Kev
in asked her, weary yet serious, gaze still on his son.
Pearl clutched a hand over her chest. “You joke but these are dangerous times. Mark my words. The day we get a frozen juice bar is the end of mile-high whips.” She stomped out.
Tad gasped. “No more mile-high whips.” He gave his father a look that said, Say it isn’t so.
The bakery fell silent. Even the Bodine boys were quiet. And everyone was looking at Kevin the same way. Like he was the town fun-killer.
Mary Margaret turned to Grandma Edith. “Where do you stand on the distribution center?” Her input might be useful when she showed up for that panel Kevin was forming.
“I don’t care.” Her grandmother shrugged. “By the time things change around here, I’ll most likely be dead. I’ll save my energy for more important endeavors.” Her gaze drifted toward Mr. Laurel.
“I think it’s a good idea,” the object of her interest said. “Think of all the good the extra tax revenue will bring.”
A thug with an understanding of economics?
Grandma Edith leaned closer to whisper to Mary Margaret, “Why do these two look so familiar?”
“Miss Pearl’s right, you know,” Mr. Laurel said to Kevin. “A significant influx of jobs means a significant influx of chain restaurants.”
That earned him a scowl from Mary Margaret, Kevin, and Mr. Hardy.
“I hear those fancy coffee shops are good places for first dates.” Grandma Edith rifled the pages of Cosmo as if preparing to reference what men wanted once more.
“I can take you to the Starbucks in Greeley if you’re interested,” Mary Margaret offered. “And we can talk about…whatever.”
“Can’t you take a hint?” Grandma Edith frowned at Mary Margaret. “I was talking about fancy coffee shops being good for you. First dates for you.”
Mary Margaret didn’t believe that for a minute. “Then why are you brushing up on your man skills with this magazine?” She tapped the back cover.
“It pays to be prepared when you do start dating.” Her grandmother’s cheeks flushed with color.
Mr. Laurel grinned so hard that Mr. Hardy swatted him on top of the head with a real estate brochure.
“Are you in town visiting someone?” Kevin asked the two men.
“No.” Mr. Hardy drained his coffee and stood, heading for the door with his partner.
Across the room, Tad tried to take the lid off his hot chocolate and spilled it. It was a small splash but Kevin rushed to his aid, as did Louise’s mom.
“Finally, we’re alone.” Grandma Edith reached into her purse. “I heard from your mother today.”
Mary Margaret had been about to take a sip of coffee. She set her cup back down. “She called?”
Grandma Edith shook her head. “Christmas card. She says she’s fine but it included a holiday letter from your father’s church.” She shook her head some more, her words turning uncharacteristically vicious as she placed an envelope on the table. “Like that man she married has a Christian bone in his body. After what he did to you…” She laid her petite palms on Mary Margaret’s cheeks.
Mary Margaret covered her grandmother’s hands with her own. “He was angry. Haven’t you ever been angry and done something you regretted?”
“Don’t say you deserved what he did.” Grandma Edith pressed her palms deeper into Mary Margaret’s cheeks when she didn’t immediately answer. “What he did—”
“What who did?” Kevin sat down. “Sorry to eavesdrop.”
Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, leaning back so her grandmother’s hands dropped away. “You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right.” He grinned, unrepentant.
Something had happened between them the day he’d asked her to be on the development committee. Perhaps it was the shared moment when they’d joked about unfortunate echoes in school hallways. Regardless, suddenly they seemed more comfortable with each other, which wasn’t wise.
Grandma Edith was considering Kevin the way she considered long menus with high price tags, which usually meant she was going to say something inappropriate like, My granddaughter was physically abused by my son-in-law. She wouldn’t qualify her statement that it had been one time.
“It’s no big deal,” Mary Margaret blurted before her grandmother could speak. The back of her neck tingled. She took the Christmas card and slid it into her purse. “Water under the bridge with my dad. He was always fire and brimstone, a strict disciplinarian, a devout minister. He…uh…”
She didn’t want to admit it but felt she had no choice. If she didn’t say it, Grandma Edith would. “We argued. You know how it is with parents when you’re out of high school and pushing for independence. I said something…I took him unawares. He lost his temper and hit me.” She’d boiled it down to a no-big-deal event. She didn’t mention the ambulance ride to the hospital and the surgery to her neck. “We haven’t talked since.”
Except in her head.
Kevin’s expression turned thunderous. “Don’t make light of it. I’m assuming your mother divorced him.” He turned his dark look on Edith.
“No. My Rinnie assures me he’s never been violent with her,” Grandma Edith said in a small, worried voice. It was why they poured over the annual Christmas card, looking for any clue that things weren’t as they seemed. She gestured weakly to Mary Margaret. “And this one is convinced it was her fault.”
“He was angry,” Mary Margaret insisted but her words were hollow. “I was raised to forgive.”
“If he was a good man…a just man…he’d have apologized by now, and you could forgive him in person.” Grandma Edith frowned, reaching for Mary Margaret’s hand under the table.
Kevin’s forehead smoothed. Wheels seemed to be spinning in his head. “Have you considered sharing your story?”
“No.” Mary Margaret clutched her grandmother’s hand. “It was one time. I’m sure, when you were younger, you got in a fight and exchanged blows, maybe with one of your friends. And then you moved on. I wasn’t abused. Abuse is such a…such a harsh word.”
Besides, what good did labels do her? Other than to make her feel like she was weak and vulnerable?
“Honey,” Grandma Edith said, “he put you in the—”
Mary Margaret shushed her.
“Your father wasn’t a kid.” Kevin leaned forward, lowering his voice as if aware of her need for some privacy. “He was a parent. A minister.” And then he added in a whisper, “He knew better.”
Mary Margaret couldn’t argue with that.
“Whatever happened to you,” Kevin said, still in that soft, understanding voice, “you’ve prevailed. You’ve grown stronger. You’ve moved on.”
Mary Margaret nodded. She liked the sound of that.
“Have you ever considered telling your story?” Kevin’s gaze swung to her grandmother, missing the recoil that had stiffened Mary Margaret’s body. “I bet it’s inspirational.”
“Mr. Mayor…” Grandma Edith glanced down at Mary Margaret’s white knuckles gripping her hand. “Kevin. This is a personal family matter. I’m sure you understand that we don’t want it spread around town.”
Kevin nodded. He stroked his hand down Mary Margaret’s arm.
But he looked at her differently than he had before, with less manly interest and more gentlemanly care.
Chapter Five
As mayor, Kevin judged a lot of events—art shows, bake-offs, float competitions. He wasn’t qualified to judge most of them but he tried to be a good sport; he tried to be a good person.
He hadn’t felt like a good person when Mary Margaret confessed that her father had hit her. He’d felt like a man who needed to howl about insensitivity and injustice. He’d wanted to shout, to punch, to push her father to the ground and tell him mistakes like that weren’t to be tolerated.
And then…
A corner of his brain, a dusty, cobwebbed corner he hadn’t known existed, had whispered about the value of a woman triumphing over adversity, allowing Mary Margaret
to feel like a survivor rather than a victim.
So he calmed himself down and thought about her feelings rather than about punishing her father.
Tonight, he was part of the judging panel for the poetry slam at the local retirement home. And because he’d been assured it was a night of holiday poetry, Tad sat on his lap as an honorary judge.
So far, only one person had channeled Scrooge and told Kevin he’d be a fool to support the distribution center being built. But it was a small crowd and not everyone had had a chance to speak to him yet.
The retirement home’s rec room had been decorated for Christmas with a large tree, wreaths over the windows, and red bows on the chairbacks. A small area had been cleared to serve as a stage. Kevin, Tad, and Clarice, the other judge, sat at a table near the windows.
“I love poetry with deep meaning, don’t you?” Clarice nudged Tad with her elbow.
“I like rhymes.” Tad had taken two sprinkle cookies from the refreshment table. He was breaking them into bite-sized pieces. He offered the point of a star cookie to Clarice. “And I like Santa poems.”
A flash of red hair had Kevin lifting his head. Mary Margaret had arrived. She escorted her grandmother to a seat and brought her refreshments, gracefully weaving in and out of the crowd.
Tad waved madly to get her attention. Kevin fought the impulse to do the same.
Mims asked for everyone to take their seats. She usually favored blue jeans, lugged-sole shoes, and sweatshirts, but tonight she wore a black blouse over a pair of burgundy velvet slacks. “This is our third annual Holiday Poetry Slam, co-sponsored by the Sunshine Valley Widows Club and the Sunshine Retirement and Rehab Center. Tonight’s event benefits our annual toy drive. Thank you to everyone who brought a new toy.”
Kevin and Tad had brought a set of Hot Wheels and a baby doll that wet its diaper, both purchased by Kevin’s assistant Yolanda.
“Do you take last-minute poetry entries?” Edith Archer got to her feet. She’d also dressed up for the event in a flowing black dress, ruby red lipstick, and sky blue eye shadow. Her short, unnaturally auburn hair was almost completely hidden beneath a red Santa cap.
A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella Page 7
