Second-Chance Sweethearts

by Cindy Caldwell

  They slowly walked down the rows of clothes, dishes, old books and used children’s toys.

  “Oddly, not one feather boa,” Corinne said, and Allen laughed.

  “I guess I really wasn’t expecting we’d find what we’re looking for, did you?”

  “I was actually hopeful, yes,” Corinne said as she picked up an antique kettle. “Do you suppose we should get some supplies for the background?”

  “I thought about that,” Allen said. “I talked to the set designers last night and they helped with some ideas. They said for this purpose, it would be easier if we just hung some curtains. Velvet, that we can hang and take the portraits in front of. All I need to do is build a rack to hang them on, and that should be pretty simple. I was hoping you could help with the curtains. So all we need to find, besides costumes, is a couple of chairs. think I have an antique table that would look good. You know how those poses are. We can’t really get too elaborate for this occasion. What do you think?”

  Corinne blew dust from the kettle and set it back down. “I think you’re right. Maybe just a chair or two, a table with some flowers on it, in a lovely old vase. These are going to be black and white, anyway.”

  “Right. Maybe we should find some of the old photographs to see what they look like.”

  “You know, the photo booth with silly props and this studio for old time photographs are really two completely different things,” Corinne said as she picked up a big pair of sunglasses and tried them on. She added a red sequined hat. “These would be more appropriate for that.”

  Allen laughed and slapped his thigh. “You look like Hobo Kelly. Remember her?”

  Corinne made a face and laughed. “Maybe it’s the red hair?”

  Allen stopped laughing and tugged at his collar. “Oh, no, I meant the glasses. You don’t really look like Hobo Kelly.”

  Corinne smiled and patted his arm. “I know you didn’t mean that. I was just teasing. I can’t believe we remember Hobo Kelly. And Mr. Green Jeans. Remember him?”

  “Oh, good grief, of course. So you were a TV watcher, too?”

  “Well, when we were really little, and they were new, of course. It was all so very exciting.” Corinne set the glasses down and wandered a little further. “Gilligan’s Island was my favorite. I always wanted to be marooned on a desert island.”

  “You did?” he asked. “I liked Bonanza. I wanted to live there. That, and Gunsmoke,” he said, picking up a small toy rifle.

  “Oh, my. Remember these?” she asked, holding up an original copy of a Nancy Drew book. She looked at Allen, who was smiling. “No, maybe you wouldn’t.”

  “I was more of a Hardy Boys fan, myself. But same idea.”

  Corinne turned at Allen laughing behind her. “I haven’t seen one of these in a hundred years,” he said, holding up an old yellow rotary-dial telephone, the receiver still attached with the curly wire, just like the one she’d grown up with.

  “Wow. Remember when there was only one phone in the house and everybody had to take turns? With two girls, my father had time limits.”

  “My brother and I were outside, mostly, but I do remember that when the phone did ring we both ran for it. No idea why, but it was exciting.”

  Corinne laughed at the memories.

  “I often wonder about those kinds of things. I doubt that Tamlyn has ever seen a rotary phone. When she was born, we’d already done away with those in favor of pushbutton phones.”

  “Yeah, and now everybody has their own cell phone. These kids don’t know how easy they have it,” Allen said and laughed. He pointed to an old microwave on a table that had a timer that turned and dinged. “Remember when we didn’t even have those?”

  They wandered down the aisles, laughing at the older things that many people wouldn’t even remember. They got to the end of the rows and Corinne threw up her hands.

  “These things are fun to look at, but they’re not going to suit our purposes at all. We need to go back about a hundred more years.”

  “Right,” Allen said as he looked around the big auditorium of the church. “We’re going to need to come up with a Plan B if we’re going to pull this off.”

  They hadn’t quite decided what to do when Gillian, Allen’s sister-in-law waved them down from the cashier’s table.

  “Hello, you two,” she said as they headed over in that direction. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  Allen and Corinne exchanged quick glances. Corinne didn’t want to tell her the bad news, but Allen clearly had other ideas.

  “All of this is great, Gillian, and we appreciate you pointing us in this direction. But we’re really focusing on the old-time photos and need some older things. Like around the turn of the century.”

  “The year two thousand wasn’t that long ago, Allen,” Gillian joked. “But if it’s antiques you’re looking for, from the last turn of the century, I’d suggest you go to Quinn Valley. They have a row of shops where most of the older items find their way. It’s a really fun place, anyway. A quirky little town.”

  “I’ve heard of it, but have never been.” Turning to Corinne, he said, “It’s a little over an hour west. We could head over that way. Greg’s there, too, and we can ask him about the photo booth. Maybe get lunch first?”

  “Sounds great to me,” Corinne said. She was always up for a new adventure and with a wave and a thank you to Gillian, they were on their way.

  Chapter 11

  Allen offered to drive, but Corinne insisted. He followed her to her car, whom she’d apparently named Bertha. He stopped a few feet from it when she pointed it out. He’d been curious when she told him she’d named it, but he honestly stifled a smile when he saw it.

  The big, blue Land Cruiser was in great shape, even though he could tell it was a little on the older side. It had obviously been around a while. The interesting thing about it was that she had several beads dangling from the rear-view mirror, and inside—it was amazing. All along the head liner were decals from places all over the country, as far as he could tell. He leaned his head back—wow, there were even decals from Australia, and Kona. Mt. Rushmore, Key West, Niagara Falls—almost everywhere he could think of.

  She started the engine and put the car in reverse, and he finally looked back in her direction.

  “Have you really been all these places?” he asked.

  Corinne looked up and smiled.

  “Yes, I have. I try to make a point of buying a decal everywhere I go and putting it in here to remind me. Probably kind of silly,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Not silly at all,” he said, looking around again. His eyes lit on a small file box behind the driver’s seat. “What’s that?”

  She looked behind her and smiled. “Oh, that’s my map box. I have maps for all fifty states, Canada and Mexico. I usually don’t keep one in here for places I’d fly to.”

  He stared at the decals—the last one he saw was from Charleston, South Carolina—and turned back to her.

  “Have you always traveled? How did you find the time?”

  She turned onto the highway in the direction he indicated and began to follow the signs toward Quinn Valley.”

  “I will tell you that I loved teaching. I’d wanted to be a teacher since I was a little girl, and when it came time to decide on a career, I tried it out as a substitute. It’s hard work, let me tell you. If I had every hour of my own time back for every one I spent grading papers late into the night, I’d—well, I’d have lots of hours,” she said as she laughed.

  He laughed, too, and noticed that the sound of her voice was comforting to him.

  “But the time off was worth it,” she continued. “I saved up and took advantage of summers off. My niece was a great travel partner, and we’d hit the road. If she couldn’t go, I’d go on my own. I don’t do that quite as much anymore.”

  “Tamlyn went with you?”

  “Yes, she did. Her mother—my sister—was busy working and raising her family, and
Tamlyn was always up for an adventure, just like I was. One time, we drove from Michigan to Las Vegas just because. The air conditioner broke and we stopped at a store to get bags of ice, which we put on our heads.”

  Allen laughed and slapped his knee.

  “That’d be something to see. Any pictures?”

  Corinne glanced at him.

  “Mercifully, no. It was before cell phones, so no pictures. It’s not on Instagram.”

  “You drove halfway across the country with no cell phone? Just the two of you?”

  “Yes, and it was absolutely one of the most wonderful adventures. When we set out, we didn’t even have a map. In fact, that was the trip where we started the map box. Somehow, we ended up at Mt. Rushmore,” she said, and pointed to the Mt. Rushmore decal he’d seen earlier.

  He shook his head slowly. He’d not spent much time out of the state of Texas, except when he’d come to Idaho. Mary hadn’t been much for traveling.

  “You’re very brave.”

  “Brave? I don’t know about that. How else do you see all the colors of life? All the spices?” she asked, and he wondered—how, indeed?

  As they drove down the highway toward Quinn Valley, he answered all of her questions that he knew the answers to, and there were lots of them. The taller trees were pine trees, the brighter green ones that were leafing out aspens or sycamores. He explained what he knew about River’s End Ranch, but as they neared Quinn Valley, he was stumped.

  They stopped at the first diner they saw, and as they waited for their food, he called Greg, asking for a little more information about the photo booth. He shook his head after he ended the call.

  “I’m not sure this is something we can do along with the old-time photos,” he said. “That’s a whole different thing, and I’d have to figure out how to make a booth. He said we could go take a look at it, but I think maybe since we only have two weeks, we’d better focus on one thing at a time.”

  “Hm. I hate to give up on an adventure,” Corinne said as the waitress set down her BLT and his burger.

  “I know. I can see that after being in your car,” Allen said with a laugh as he squirted ketchup on his fries. “Want some?”

  “I’ll trade you some fries for half my onion rings,” she offered, and he quickly agreed. It was the best of both worlds for him, and it felt good having someone to share with again.

  They finished up and he read the directions to Greg’s house. She navigated expertly, and they were there in no time.

  After Greg had shown them all the props—Mickey and Minnie Mouse hats, magic wands, tiaras and Cat in the Hat hats, they’d thanked him and headed back to the car.

  “What do you think?” Allen asked as he closed the door and she turned over the engine.

  “I think you’re right. One thing at a time. Maybe you could tackle that project after the party? It looks like a really fun idea, but you’d have to physically construct the booth as well as get the computer program. Seems like a lot, while we’re still trying to make the old-time photo shoot work. That’s what it seemed to me Wade really want. It goes with the theme much better. This theme, anyway.”

  Allen drummed his fingers on his knee. “You know, there was a time in my life—well, most of my life—where I’d tackle it all. Stay up all night, get stressed out, do too much. How about if I explain to Wade and see if he’s okay with just the old-time photos. Maybe we could do the photo booth later, maybe for Opal’s wedding, like you said.”

  He realized he’d said “we” after it came out of his mouth, and he looked out the passenger window so he didn’t see if she’d heard him.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” she said finally. “All of it.”

  She turned into the parking lot of the antique store Gillian had mentioned and they both laughed as they walked up the stairs and into the store. They’d hit the mother lode of antiques, and they didn’t seem to be overly priced, either.

  “Look at this,” she called from one side of the store as he perused the other. He crossed over to where she was, and he slipped his arms into the long, tailed coat she held up for him.

  “It’s perfect,” she said, waving her hand at a rack of clothing. “And they have several in pretty generic sizes.”

  He buttoned the coat and turned toward her. She straightened his collar and patted the shoulders.

  “My, don’t you look handsome. Just like Doc Holliday,” she said, and his cheeks heated.

  There were several satin vests on the same rack and they flipped through them.

  “You know, I’m sure we’ll have people of various heights and sizes. It’s really impractical to try to have a dress in every single size,” she said as she tapped her chin. “What if I made some things, just kind of generic aprons or corsets with Velcro that people could slip into. Long skirts under the corsets and the like.”

  Allen nodded. “It’s a good thing we aren’t trying to do the photo booth after all if we’re making the set and costumes, too,” he said.

  He went through the rack of dresses and pulled out an emerald green satin one. On impulse, he turned toward Corinne and held it up to her. She turned, and it was the exact same color as her eyes.

  “This is a beautiful dress, and it looks great with your eyes,” he said.

  He cleared his throat and placed it back on the rack as she said, “Thank you,” and turned back to the menswear.

  They strolled through the store and found some other props that they could use. Corinne picked out a beautiful, Victorian vase for the small table, and they even found two rocking chairs in the back of the store.

  “My great grandmother had one of these,” Corinne said. “I kept it for years, but somehow it disappeared.”

  He walked over to the table she was standing near. She held an antique hand mirror, the back of it covered in mother of pearl. She gazed into it briefly before she set it back down on the table.

  There was something about the way she spoke—about her adventures, her family, her history—that tugged at his heart.

  “You look very nice, by the way,” he said, his smile changing to a quirk as he looked away.

  Corinne looked down at her scarf, surprised that he’d noticed.

  “Well, thank you,” she said.

  They wandered over to the jewelry, and picked out some things for people to wear in the photographs. He looked at the pocket watches as she tried on some bracelets and rings.

  He glanced over as she tried a ring on what would be her wedding finger, and he was suddenly curious if she’d ever been married. She knew a lot about Mary, and about him, but he knew very little about her history. Well, her relationship history, actually. But now he was determined to ask. As soon as the time was right.

  Chapter 12

  They’d piled the clothes into the back of Corinne’s car, along with the two chairs, the vase and the other things they’d found. The next day, they’d gone together to the lumber store and gotten all the materials to build a frame for the curtains that Corinne was going to make.

  Corinne had laughed as Allen had tagged along at the fabric store as she shopped for the perfect fabric. She’d never been to a fabric store with a man before, but he held his own—and maintained his sense of humor as she browsed through bolts of velvet and satins until she’d found exactly the right one.

  She’d felt a little guilty about leaving Tamlyn to her own devices—after all, she’d come all the way out to help her and hadn’t been around much—but Tamlyn assured her that just having her around for company was all the help she needed.

  They’d spent almost every evening at either Allen’s cabin or Tamlyn’s apartment. At Tamlyn’s, they sewed while watching a movie, and at Allen’s, she’d hand him the hammer and nails as he put together the things they’d need for the set. She loved the sewing, but she particularly liked being at Allen’s. He was a very precise worker and knew his way around lumber and tools, a skill she found most impressive. Her motto was if you’re going to do a job, do it
right—and he obviously felt the same way. The old-time photos were going to be a hit. She just knew it.

  About a week before the cast and staff party, they’d been laughing about some old TV show they’d both liked—maybe it was Green Acres—when he put his hammer down and sat down beside her on the bench behind his cabin.

  “Corinne, I have to ask you something. I’ve been waiting for the right time, but there never seems to be one. So I guess the right time is now.”

  Corinne sat up a little straighter and held her breath. They’d been talking every day for a long time now. What could he want to know about that she hadn’t already told him?

  He cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his knees on his elbows, looking at the ground.

  “You know all about me and Mary. And Texas. But I don’t know that much about you.”

  Corinne laughed. “You know more about me than anybody else. I’ve told you everywhere I’ve been and all the silly things I’ve done.”

  He sat up and leaned back on the bench, his eyes meeting hers.

  “I know, and I can’t believe some of the things you’ve done,” he said with a smile. “But there’s something I don’t know. Why haven’t you ever been married?”

  “Oh,” Corinne said, surprised by that question. All of that seemed so long ago that she barely ever thought about it anymore, and it surprised her when anyone else did.

  The pain was no longer fresh, so she normally just breezed over it. She wished she could now, but as she looked at Allen, his eyes so sincere and questioning, she knew she couldn’t.

  She stood and paced along the back patio of the cabin. The sun was just setting and the mountains that ringed the ranch were purple, the snow at their tips still ablaze with white.

  “It seems like such a simple story now. But I can imagine why you’d want to know.”

  She sat down beside him again and took his hand in hers.

  “It really was a blessing, Allen. But it was pretty painful at the time.”

  He waited, and she took a deep breath.