Hungry for Love

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Hungry for Love Page 26

by Nancy Frederick


  “You think you’re just so smart, don’t you?”

  “Look, we’re on the same side here. We’re both trying to save this business.”

  “The business was just fine until you swooped down like some damn crusader rabbit. Dad and I were doing just fine.”

  “Dad asked me to come back. You know that.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Big Shot Financier. Reorganize the whole business so I don’t have a clue. Set new hours. Act like the boss around here.”

  “Grady, what is it you want anyway?”

  “I want a life, the life I had, when we were doing just fine. I don’t want to be a slave to this place.”

  “If we don’t make some changes the business will go under in a year. You know that.”

  “I damn well don’t know that. And besides....”

  Annabeth walked up to the door where all the shouting was, but she didn’t want to barge in, so she waited outside a bit, hoping the voices would calm. She looked down at her watch. It was a few minutes after five. Maggie would soon start to wonder where she was. She coughed, hoping she would be heard and the men inside would stop arguing.

  “Oh, go to hell!” said the first man, pushing out the door and past Annabeth without even seeing her.

  Annabeth took a deep swallow and walked toward the door. She hated angry scenes like this and didn’t want to appear an eavesdropper. “Excuse me,” she said softly.

  The man behind the desk looked up from his computer. In one glance he took in Annabeth’s situation and rose to greet her. He was quite tall, and his white shirt was crisply starched. His hair, formerly dark, but now shadowed with silver, was neat, as was the nicely trimmed beard he wore. He smiled at Annabeth in a way that made her relax. His eyes, black and sparkling, were confident yet kind, honest but also shrewd. “Annabeth Copeland,” he said. “You cut your hair.”

  “Yes,” she said, startled, touching her hair, “But it’s Welner now.” He was familiar looking….Her eyes opened wide, “Doug Hawkins! My goodness! Look at you—you have a beard! I thought you left town years ago.” She smiled at him then. “It’s so nice to see you again.” He remembered her long hair. How amazing.

  He smiled back. “How are those math skills?”

  She laughed. “Probably no better than when you were my tutor. Luckily I don’t need them very often.”

  “You were always an artist anyway, not a mathematician.”

  Annabeth smiled at him again, thinking him sweet to remember her silly hobby. “And you were always good at noticing the details about people.”

  “Yes,” he smiled, “And you look like a damsel in distress to me right now.”

  “My car broke down a few blocks from here. It needs jumper cables or something. It breaks down all the time. And I have food melting inside.”

  “The mechanics are gone for the day, but let me see if I can help you.”

  “Thank you so much. The car’s parked a few blocks from here toward town.”

  Annabeth looked down at her dress as Doug peered under the hood of her car. He attached the jumper cables, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. She walked to the trunk and opened it. The Jambalaya was fine, still pleasantly warm. She lifted the lid of one of the coolers in the back seat. The cake was sweating and looked ominously soft. Carefully she lowered the cooler lid.

  Doug sighed as he raised his head from the hood, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can get this vehicle going again. I think the fuel pump is gone, and there are a lot of other problems as well. I’d be glad to have our mechanics look at it on Monday, to give you an estimate. Then you can decide if it’s worth fixing or not.”

  “Oh my. I should have called Maggie from your office. They’re waiting for me and this food.”

  “Let me take you where you need to go. Then I’ll come back and have your car towed to the garage.”

  “Oh thank you so much,” she said, relieved.

  He walked to the car, carefully lifting the coolers into his back seat. Annabeth opened her trunk, removed the breads in their bags and Doug placed the Jambalaya on the floor of his trunk. “Smells wonderful,” he commented.

  “Thank you. I hope it isn’t spoiled.”

  In a few moments they arrived at Maggie’s and Doug helped her in with the food. “Annabeth!” exclaimed Maggie as she spotted them, “What happened to you?”

  “Damn car,” said Annabeth. “Maggie, do you remember Doug Hawkins?”

  “Yes, of course, Grady’s brother.” Maggie said. “How are you?”

  Doug glanced at Maggie. “Always the brother of the football hero. My claim to fame.” Then returning his focus to Annabeth, he continued, “All right, we’ll have your car. Come around on Monday and we’ll give you that estimate.”

  “It was so nice to see you again.” Annabeth smiled. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk. Why don’t you stay and have some food with us?”

  Doug looked around at the party preparations. “No, I can see it’s a family affair. I don’t want to intrude.”

  Maggie, not wanting to be topped in courtesy by Annabeth, insisted, “Please, stay. You’re welcome to stay.”

  “Another time,” he said, backing out of the room.

  Annabeth followed him, saying, “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure.” He smiled at her then, an open and friendly smile, one which caused his dark eyes to flash.

  Annabeth smiled back, and watched him walk down the driveway and pull off in his car. Then she turned back toward Maggie. “I need to go home and change my clothes. But first let’s get these cakes into the fridge.” They walked back toward the kitchen, and Annabeth carefully lifted the lid of the cooler. She gently pulled the cake up and out, slowly turning toward the refrigerator which Maggie held open. It was the slight turn that did it. The mousse, already melting, separated from the cake, causing the top layer to spin off, landing on the floor. On seeing it swirl off, Annabeth jumped, and that movement caused the final layer to fly off the plate.

  “Oh my God!” exclaimed Annabeth and Maggie simultaneously. Annabeth scraped the soggy cake and puddling mousse off the floor and into the trash can, walked to the sink, rinsing her hands and drying them, then opened the other cooler. The second cake was collapsed, the mousse puddled around its sides. There was no way to remove it from the cooler in one piece, and it wasn’t fit to eat anyway.

  “Now what?” asked Maggie. “I didn’t make my sheet cake. We do have some cookies.”

  “Oh God!” sighed Annabeth, “I’m really sorry, Maggie. I have to go home anyway. I’ll stop at Ed and Betty’s and get a cake.”

  “Fancy food just doesn’t work in this climate,” complained Maggie, her face a mask of aggravation. “I’ll give them a call while you go. Take my car.”

  “Thanks, hon.” Annabeth touched Maggie’s arm gently.

  Annabeth pressed her hand to her head. It was pounding. She looked down at her party dress, now utterly ruined. Could the cleaners remove that stain? It was doubtful. At least she still had her other new outfit. She pulled into the open spot in front of Ed and Betty’s Bakery and walked the few steps to the door.

  Betty smiled warmly at Annabeth. “Hi. Your friend already called me. I wish we had more cakes left.” Betty pointed to the nearly empty display case. There were two small cakes, one frosted in pink, one chocolate.

  “These will be great,” said Annabeth, smiling courteously.

  Betty went about boxing the cakes while Annabeth fished in her purse. She retrieved her credit card and handed it to Betty, who ran it through the machine. “That’s odd,” murmured Betty, who then swiped the card again. She picked up the phone and started speaking, then turned toward Annabeth, “They say this card has been canceled. Did you bring the wrong one?”

  Annabeth blanched. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, “There must be some mistake.” She looked in her purse for her checkbook, but she had left it at home. In her wallet were two five dollar bills, which she pulled out. “This is all the ca
sh I have with me.”

  “Listen I understand about these credit card mix ups. Why don’t you stop by on Monday with the cash.”

  Annabeth smiled at Betty. “Oh thank you. I’m already late now.”

  “No problem.” Betty handed the two boxes to Annabeth and followed her to the door, placing the closed sign on it and locking it behind Annabeth.

  Not wanting to take any chances with these cakes, Annabeth walked to the kitchen to deposit them in her refrigerator, despite the fact that she knew there was no cream in them to melt. “What’s this?” she said softly to herself, removing a note held to the door with a magnet.

  Sorry I missed you, it read in Julie’s handwriting. I needed you to take a seam in that black dress you made for me, but I guess it can wait. I borrowed those gray palazzo pants from your closet for tonight. See you at the party.

  Julie had borrowed her new silk slacks. Annabeth dashed up the stairs, wondering what she would wear to the party. She flipped through the clothes in her closet. There was nothing special enough. Annabeth shook her head, which was still pounding, and she slumped down onto the bed. She sat there silently, trying to banish from her mind the thousand thoughts that were overwhelming her. Finally she rose, walked into the bathroom, downed two aspirins with some water and then reached into the closet for one of her cotton skirts. She thought of wearing the gray silk top that belonged with the pants that Julie had borrowed, but she knew it would look odd, so instead she settled on one of her soft knit tops. She looked in the mirror and sighed, shaking her head. There lay her pretty dress on the sewing machine. She held it up briefly. No, it was unlikely it could be cleaned. All her plans for this party…. At least now nothing else could go wrong.

  Mother Welner was the first one to spot her as she walked in Maggie’s door. “Do you ever take off that uniform, Annabeth?” she asked.

  Laurel, having arrived late and gone directly to Maggie’s, walked over to her rescue, steering Annabeth away from R.J.’s mother. “Mom! What happened to your pink dress?”

  “The car exploded all over it. I’m ready to lose my mind.”

  “Why did you let Julie borrow your new slacks then?”

  “She took them while I was out. She didn’t know I needed them. Is your father here yet?”

  “Nope.”

  Annabeth looked at her daughter. “Don’t you look beautiful.” She stopped to give Laurel a hug, an act that calmed her. They walked about the room together, stopping to talk to family members and old school chums that Laurel hadn’t seen in a while, then Annabeth went to help Maggie with the food. The party continued for a couple of hours, people laughing and chatting, balancing plates of excellent food on their knees, while others rose and offered toasts to the smiling couple.

  It was nearly eleven when R.J. Welner entered the room, his arm around a young girl who was easily a head taller than himself. She wore a tight-fitting, low-cut black vinyl dress that would not have been suitable for any event held in Gull’s Perch, let alone an engagement party. Her hair, bleached an even brassier shade of blonde than it had been when Annabeth first saw her, was piled high on her head, and adorned on each side with rhinestone clips. She wore heels so high that each step required careful concentration, and because the skirt was so tight, she could move only a few millimeters at a time. Sally took one look at her father’s companion, held her hand to her mouth and raced for the downstairs bathroom.

  “Where’s my little girl?” asked R.J. loudly, first shaking Jackson’s hand. “Jackson, this is Linna—isn’t that cute—short for Linda.”

  “Hello,” said Jackson politely.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Linna in a soft, little girl voice. She looked around appraisingly, “Nice house you have here. I love these old houses.”

  “Thanks,” said Jackson, peering down her neckline.

  “You look familiar to me. Do I know you? I used to tend bar at the Rusty Lantern.”

  “Don’t think so.”

  Linna continued her conversation with Jackson as Sally approached, prompting R.J. to walk toward his daughter, reaching his arms out for a hug, which Sally granted stiffly. “You brought a—” and here Sally paused for a long time before continuing her thought “a—a—date—to my engagement party. How could you!” Sally once again held her hand to her mouth and dashed toward the bathroom.

  Linna was enjoying herself immensely as she regaled several of the men with barroom jokes. One by one, their wives came over, standing by their men in a protective manner that was quite clear in its intent. “Buzz, could you get me a drink,” she called to R.J., who was walking back toward her.

  Annabeth watched this scene from the corner of the room, her stomach churning. R.J. hadn’t said a word to her and had brought this girl to the party. All the hopes she’d had about a reconciliation, about wooing him back, and then he pulls a stunt like this. How could she ever forgive him now?

  “Are you feeling all right?” asked Maggie. “My stomach is upset.” She rushed off then, up the stairs toward her private bathroom.

  “You know, I feel odd too,” commented Julie, holding her hand over her mouth and walking swiftly toward the bathroom where Sally was once again throwing up.

  Annabeth walked toward her husband. She wanted to shout at him, to eject him and his companion from the party, but instead controlled the anger that was rising from her knotted stomach and said, “There’s something wrong with my credit card, and the car broke down today. It needs major repairs.”

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow and we’ll go over it all,” he said calmly, then filled a glass with some wine and walked back toward Linna.

  Annabeth looked around the room. Everyone would be thinking the worst about R.J. and about her. It was humiliating. She spotted her father and walked over to where he and Ginger were standing. They both looked a bit green.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, momentarily forgetting her own problems.

  “No, I feel awful,” answered Ginger. “Something I ate,” she continued, pressing her hand to her stomach and cringing.

  “I think we’d better head on home,” said Will. “Thank Maggie for us.”

  In a matter of minutes the room was cleared, the weary and nauseated guests praying they would arrive at their homes in time to lock themselves in the privacy of their own bathrooms.

  Annabeth remained, along with Laurel, Sally, who was now recovered, although looking quite pale, Jackson, Maggie and Hugh.

  “That damn Jambalaya nearly killed us all,” said Maggie sharply. “The shrimp must have turned. Or the sausage. Did it taste odd to you?”

  “I didn’t eat at all,” commented Annabeth. “Gosh, Maggie, I’m really sorry.”

  Maggie looked at her with annoyance.

  “Um, I have something to say,” interjected Sally. Jackson reached his hand to cover hers, as she continued, but she removed her hand from beneath his. “Maybe we are too young. I’m sorry Jackson, but I don’t think we should get married now. I think I should go back home to Mom for a while.”

  All eyes turned toward her.

  “What?” said Jackson.

  “You’re kidding, right?” said Maggie, glaring at Annabeth.

  “My goodness!” exclaimed Annabeth.

  “What’s the hurry?” said Laurel as Jackson scowled at her.

  “Why don’t we go in the other room to let the kids work this through on their own,” said Hugh.

  “Jackson and I can talk alone tomorrow. Tonight I just want to go home to my own room and get some sleep,” said Sally.

  “Let me help Maggie clean up a bit first,” said Annabeth.

  “No need to bother,” answered Maggie coldly. Annabeth reached to hug her friend, who was wooden and unyielding, and then glared at Annabeth as she walked through the door behind her daughters.

  *

  On Sunday morning Annabeth sat with her daughters at the kitchen table, all three of them gloomy in the aftermath of the party. R.J. had said he’d drop by sometime and A
nnabeth was nervous.

  “Oh, Mom,” Sally wailed. “Daddy with that trampy girl last night. What was he thinking?”

  “When does the bastard ever think about anything,” said Laurel.

  There was a pounding at the door, and Annabeth let Jackson in. He was carrying a large bundle of mismatched flowers, which he presented to Sally. “I stole these all over town.”

  Annabeth placed a glass of juice in front of Jackson, asking “Have you had your breakfast yet?”

  His expression was guarded as he replied, “No, but I’m not hungry.”

  Annabeth looked toward Laurel. “Come on, let’s go in the other room.”

  “No, Mom, I need you right here.”

  “I know you're upset about your dad,” said Jackson in a voice that was calm and quiet. He reached a strong hand toward Sally, enveloping her smaller hand in his.

  “Daddy’s a big jerk.”

  “I’m not your dad, you know.”

  Sally dissolved in tears. “Oh, God,” she mumbled, “I don’t know. I just want to stay here with Mom for a while. Then maybe we can talk? Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay, but what choice do I have?” Jackson sighed and rose to leave.

  Annabeth walked him to the door, then spoke softly, “I wanted you to wait a bit, but I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  Jackson shook his head and walked through the door.

  Annabeth returned to the kitchen where she sat next to her daughter, “Listen to me, Sally. You can stay here as long as you want. But I just want to make sure you know what you want.”

  “Yeah, kid what’s the hurry? Trouble with living in a small town like this is that there’s nothing to do but get married. In the real world there are other choices, you know,” said Laurel, trying to be kind but sounding gruff.

 

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