by Diann Hunt
“No problem,” Scott said. “We’re finished here. Where do they need me?”
Amber stared at them so long, Scott felt hot around the collar. “The kitchen.”
“Be right there.” He turned to Melissa and tossed a quick smile. “Well, have a nice day.” One glance at the way she batted her eyelashes and he shot out of there as fast as his legs could carry him.
Stepping into the bedroom, Carly closed the door and made sure it was latched. Though Magnolia had gone back to her house to bring another load of belongings, Carly didn’t want her sneaking up behind her.
She sat on her bed and pondered the situation. Magnolia had actually taken her up on her offer. She was more than happy to help family when they were in need, but now she found herself wondering just how long this arrangement would last. Surely it wasn’t going to be permanent.
Not that she didn’t love Magnolia. She did. Her stepmother could be sweet when she wanted. She just didn’t want to very often. Occasionally she messed up things. Like the time she used barbecue sauce for the caramel icing. And French dressing on the French fries instead of catsup. And then there was the wedding when she’d tried to pass the ring to her sister during the ceremony and accidentally dropped it. The ring pinged and ponged its way down to the front of the old church and ultimately dropped down a floor register, while everyone watched in disbelief.
And now Magnolia would be in the same house. What if she burned down the spa? Carly made a mental note to up her insurance.
She shuddered and lifted her eyes heavenward. “Haven’t I been through enough?”
Just then a slight tinkling sound lifted from her teacup terrier’s name tag as she trotted toward Carly. A pink bow captured a tuft of black-and-brown hair. Pinkie stopped at Carly’s feet long enough to lift her muzzle and receive a few strokes on her snout, then off she sauntered to her bed, circling three times, and finally spilling into the soft cushion. As a full-fledged adult, Pinkie weighed three pounds. Sometimes Scott joked that the little dog would one day be sucked into the vacuum.
Carly eyed Pinkie, who was curled up in a little furry ball. The terrier had been a gift from Scott and Ivy when Carly was sick.
Why did I accept a dog that makes me look like Gladiator Woman? Taking a walk with a St. Bernard would definitely have given her more of a dainty appearance. She’d have to shrink to the size of a raisin to appear dainty with Pinkie around.
With a quick glance in the mirror, Carly ran a brush through her long hair. As she stood there, the evening sun squeezed through the window with the strength of a halogen bulb and spotlighted an imposter in the midst of endless strands of brown. The air in Carly’s lungs swirled to a halt as she leaned in for a closer look. Pulling the offensive gray strand upward, she squeezed her eyes into focus while her jaw dangled in disbelief. Outrage roared through her head.
“I do not have gray hair!” She plucked the offensive hair. Then another. And another. Her hands worked through the strands like a monkey on a bug hunt.
It was useless. There were too many. She gave up and looked at herself in the mirror. How had she not noticed their arrival? Shouldn’t there have been a fanfare of some sort? At the very least a lone bugler announcing the departure of her youth?
When she glanced at her eyes, she felt sure her vibrant green irises had faded to the shade of a stagnant lily pad. A snow-capped head, colorless eyes, and a missing boob.
She was every man’s dream.
Sighing, she set to work. With careful skill, she dabbed on a little more mascara and eyeliner, then rearranged her hair, tucking in first this gray, then that one, and dousing it with so much hair spray she was afraid her forehead wouldn’t move for a week.
She dared one more glance in the mirror, this time at her body. She was beginning to understand how the wicked witch felt when she looked into the enchanted mirror. This mirror wasn’t saying her name either.
“Well, you can say what you will, but I plan to do something about it,” she said in no uncertain terms. She would get the weight off even if it meant—
No, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Not yet.
Still, weight was something she could change about herself. She remembered the brochure outlining the reconstructive surgery options. Obviously, other problems wouldn’t be so easily remedied. She made a mental note to get the brochure from her living room stand after she checked her e-mail. She didn’t want that information getting into the wrong hands. Namely, Magnolia’s.
Hoping to feel better, she turned to her computer. It was nice being able to leave it on during the day. Then she could sneak away from the office, run up to her bedroom, and see if there was a note from Jake. Oh sure, she could check her computer in the office, but she wasn’t comfortable with that. Scott—or worse, a client—could step in and see what she was reading. She couldn’t risk it. Besides, if she allowed herself to do that, she’d never get any work done. When she checked her bedroom computer, she knew she couldn’t stay up there long—she had to get back down to work. It was a mind game, she knew, but it worked for her.
Clicking into her mail, her heart skipped when she read the words “Marine Man” in bold black letters. Such a cute name for him. He’d been out of the service for a couple of years, but talking with him it was easy to see those were his glory days.
Hey, Squirt, how’s it going?
To this day it irritated her that he called her by the nickname he had given her when she was twelve. She had lived for the days when he would come over to visit her brother, and all he did was call her Squirt. Not only that, but she no longer qualified. Hello? Twenty-five extra pounds.
Did I tell you that I’m retiring? Plan to leave my sales job in a few weeks. I just wasn’t cut out for this. Funny. I retired from the job I really enjoyed in the Marines and moved to Chicago to take this sales position to save our marriage. Lisa had given me the ultimatum, “Either you accept that position and move to Chicago or we’re through.” We move here, then she bails on us six months later. It’s been hard on Katelyn. In two years, Lisa’s only contacted Katelyn once. She’s been hanging around the wrong kind of kids and that’s another reason I want to move. I need to get her out of here. Then the other day the thought hit me, why not go back home? Probably wouldn’t have thought of it if I hadn’t been writing to you. This will help us get to know each other even more. The renters moved out of the family homestead, so it’s a good time for me to make the move back.
There it was. Confirmation. Jake was moving back. Wonder why he had told C. J. before he told her?
She considered his words. Katelyn was his sixteen-year-old daughter. Now Carly was no Ma Walton, but she did like kids. Unfortunately, Gary had never wanted children. Carly knew that going into their marriage, and she loved him so much she had respected his wishes.
Little had she known what that would cost her.
Anyway, C. J. tells me he spilled the beans about me moving back. I wanted to surprise you. Sorry you had to hear about it that way. Counting the days until we get home. Love, J.
She reread the final sentence about ten times, each time thrilling her more than the last. Walking over to her bed, she lay down and stared at the ceiling. “He’s counting the days,” she said dreamily.
After such a long dry season, could it be You have brought me joy once again, Lord? Thank You.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, but her eyes drifted to a close and didn’t open again until there was a knock at her bedroom door.
“Carly?”
Magnolia was back.
“Dinner is ready and Scott is here. Are you all right?”
“Dinner? Scott?” Had she been up there that long?
“Remember? He told me you invited him.” Carly could hear the strain in Magnolia’s voice.
The truth worked through Carly’s fuzzy brain. Scott had said he was out of groceries, and she had told him to come upstairs and they’d feed him.
That means they’ve been alone. And worse,
Magnolia has been cooking.
Carly sniffed the air. Nothing out of the ordinary yet, but her door was still closed. She listened carefully. No smoke alarms were sounding. Carly made a mental note to check their batteries.
Magnolia was into “healthy” eating. Carly felt it didn’t matter how healthy asparagus was—if it was charred, the nutritional value was pretty much nil.
Still, at least Magnolia tried to eat right. Carly knew she should eat better, but there were just so many tempting items at the grocery store. Somehow her cart got sucked down those aisles like metal to magnets.
“Be right there.” Hopping off her bed, she stopped at the dresser and spruced her hair once more—making sure the gray was still hidden. “I can’t believe I fell asleep,” she said, joining Magnolia in the hallway.
“The veggie burgers are getting cold,” Magnolia said as they walked into the living room.
Right then she saw Scott and they locked eyes. She felt sure if he had known veggie burgers were on the menu, he would have opted for the grocery store.
She made her apologies and they soon settled down to dinner. When Magnolia headed to the kitchen for something, Scott turned on her.
“How could you leave me alone with her? She could have killed me,” he said. “Not only that, but I’m not exactly her favorite person these days.”
Magnolia had a reputation.
“And veggie burgers? Did you see these?” He lifted a burger. “You could slap some mortar between these babies and build a fireplace. I thought you were my friend.”
“Just trying to help your diet,” Carly said, smothering a giggle behind her hand.
“Speaking of diets . . .”
She stopped laughing and clamped her hand on his arm.
“Ow.” He pulled away and rubbed his arm. “What’s with the violence?”
“Don’t talk about diets. You’re ruining my appetite.”
“You need anger management classes.” He glared at her while he not-so-discreetly scooted his chair in the opposite direction.
Magnolia entered carrying a bowl. “C. J. tells me Jake Mitchell is moving back,” she said, directing her comment to Carly. It wasn’t as though she was ignoring Scott completely. It was more like she didn’t speak to him unless she absolutely had to. She placed the bowl of hummus dip on the table. At least Carly thought it was hummus dip. Was it supposed to be green? She didn’t think so. At least she’d never seen green hummus dip before. Probably not a good sign.
“When he was a kid, he used to sack my groceries down at the store. Nice young man.”
“Yeah, Jake is moving back.” Carly studied Magnolia as she made her way across the dining room to retrieve a serving spoon for the dip. Though she looked a bit frumpy in her oversized dress, comfortable shoes, and crooked belt, there was a sweetness about her smile, her soft, grayish-white hair pinned loosely at the back of her head with wispy tendrils dangling happily at the sides of her face.
“Well, it will be nice to see him again,” Magnolia said.
Scott’s gaze cut to Carly, but she said nothing.
“Would you like another veggie burger?” Magnolia asked.
“No, thank you,” Carly said, waiting on Magnolia to ask Scott.
She didn’t.
“Would you like any more, Scott?” Carly asked.
Magnolia started clearing the table and hovered at Scott’s plate, waiting for his response.
“Oh, it’s tempting, but no thanks.” He rubbed his midsection. “Trying to cut back.”
Magnolia said nothing but swooped up his plate before he could change his mind. Carly’s plate was still holding half of her veggie burger. Well, she had to cut calories somewhere. She stood and cleared her place at the table. “Want to watch a movie?” She’d rented a comedy she’d yet to watch. “I can make some popcorn.”
“Sounds good,” Scott said, joining her in the cleanup.
“I have baked pumpkin seeds, if you’d rather snack on those,” Magnolia urged.
“No thanks.” Carly didn’t bother telling them that the popcorn would have caramel drizzled over it.
Scott went into the living room to get the movie started while Carly reached for the popcorn. Maybe the caramel thing was a little over the top. She was trying to lose weight, after all. On the other hand, she’d only had half a sandwich for dinner. Hopefully, the half side of watermelon she’d had for her afternoon snack didn’t add up to too much.
It was practically all water.
Just when she resolved to overcome the sweet temptation, she remembered a stash of chocolate in the back of the towel drawer. Hiding them there had kept them out of sight when she was weak, but close at hand when life was out of control. Like now. Should she? Shouldn’t she? Truly, she wanted to lose weight, but what was the big deal if she only had a couple?
Just as she was about to pop four into her mouth, Scott walked in.
“Caught you.” Looking meaningfully at her, he took the chocolates from her hand and threw them down the garbage disposal. “You asked me to help you, remember?”
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched her favorite candy swirl to its gruesome end. She turned to him and shoved her palm against his shoulder. “Our friendship is on the line here, Scott.”
He shook his head. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I had no idea.” He reached into his pocket. “Here, try these.”
She looked at the shell-covered pistachios in his hand, then looked up at him. “That’s it? That’s your remedy for getting me off chocolate? Nuts aren’t exactly low calorie, you know.”
“They take the edge off your appetite. It takes time to shell them and you only eat a few a day. It’s your treat.”
“Oh, joy.” She grabbed the nuts from his hand before he could change his mind. She was desperate.
“Where did you get those?” he asked.
“What?”
“The chocolates. Where are they?”
“Well, duh. You put them down the garbage disposal.”
“Do you want my help or not?”
She sighed. “Yes, I want your help. Those were the last of them.”
He gave her the trademark stare.
“Oh, all right.” She reached back into the towel drawer, pulled out the bag, and plopped it into his outstretched hand. “But don’t you dare throw these away. Just hold them for me until I reach my first goal of losing ten pounds. Then I’ll reward myself before going on to the next ten.”
He seemed to consider it a moment.
“I’ll run out and buy more if you get rid of these,” she threatened.
“I’m just trying to help you.”
“Diet Nazi.”
Scott pulled tumblers out of the cabinet and filled them with ice while Carly got the popcorn bowl. Getting a glimpse of him, her heart squeezed. He was such a great guy—well, all except for that diet thing—and she knew he missed Ivy so much.
“Scott, you would never leave Spring Creek, would you?”
He turned to her. “Why would I?”
“Well, with Ivy gone, I just wondered—” The question stuck in her throat. She wasn’t even sure where it came from. “Losing one good friend is enough. I couldn’t stand to lose you too.”
He walked over to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and smiled. “I’m not leaving. Besides, somebody has to keep you away from you-know-what.” He grinned and got a soda from the refrigerator.
“I work with chocolate. Chocolate is my world. No one can keep me from it.” At his raised brows, she quickly added, “Okay, okay, I’ll try not to eat it.” Her second fib in the last hour. Carly flipped him with a nearby towel.
“Oh, so that’s the way you want to play, huh?” Scott grabbed a towel from the drawer, twisted it, then snapped it with precision until it whipped the back of her leg.
“Ow, that hurt.”
He danced around the kitchen like Rocky Balboa. “That’s what happens when you mess with the big guys, little girl.” Snap. Anothe
r hit. He raised his fisted arms in victory.
“Okay, now you’re making me mad.” She pulled the nozzle on the faucet way out and pointed it at him like a Glock pistol.
Scott held up his hands in surrender. “Carly Westlake, don’t you go there.”
Carly could feel the evil intent rise up within her. She turned the faucet and squeezed the nozzle. But just as water sprayed across the floor, Magnolia reentered the room. Carly watched in horror as the older woman’s right foot kicked out in front of her.
Scott dashed to her, literally slid beneath her, and broke her fall just as she was going down.
He looked like a squashed bug on a sidewalk. A surprised squashed bug.
Magnolia blinked three times as though she had no idea what had hit her. “Oh dear,” was all she said.
“Are you all right, Magnolia?” Carly ran to the older woman’s side and hauled her upright, noting how Scott gasped for breath when relieved from his load.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m not sure what happened.” With a frown, she pointed an accusing finger at Scott. “I think I tripped over you.”
Scott hauled himself up and brushed the dust from his pant legs.
“Actually, Scott protected you by taking the brunt of your fall,” Carly defended.
Magnolia let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Scott. “I suppose I should thank you.” She paused to think it over. “So, thanks.” She hobbled out of the room, evidently forgetting why she’d come in.
“Well, that was heartfelt,” Scott said with a laugh. He grabbed a tumbler for his soda and leaned in to Carly. “I’ll get you later.”
“Not if I get you first.”
Once the movie was over, Magnolia went to bed. Carly walked into the living room carrying a tray for their coffee mugs.
“I’m sorry I don’t have tomato juice. Hopefully, this won’t put you over your coffee limit for the day.” She placed a steaming mug on the stand beside the recliner.
“I don’t think this will hurt me too much.” He winked.
“You doing okay, really, Scott?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Each day gets a little easier.” He picked up his cup and took a sip.
