by Annie Rains
Joy took the bill and hugged her aunt. “Thank you.”
“I wholeheartedly agree with Darby about needing more culture in Sweetwater Springs,” Ray said.
Darby seemed to melt as she turned to him, her back and shoulders rounding softly. Then Ray tilted his head toward hers, resting his forehead briefly against her temple. Once again, Joy felt like she’d fallen into a time warp. A week and a half. That was the very definition of a whirlwind romance. And whirlwind romances didn’t have a stable foundation. They fell apart. Joy knew this firsthand, and that’s what concerned her.
She was still worried as she drove away from Sugar Pines a little while later with a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill in her pocket to put toward leasing her gallery. Well, that was a start toward rebuilding her funds.
Joy’s eye caught on two little girls walking on the sidewalk away from the local school. Sweetwater Elementary had gotten out forty-five minutes ago. Joy recognized the girls from behind. She slowed and pulled over to the roadside, rolling down her passenger window. “Hey, Abby. Hey, Willow. Are you walking home?” Surely they weren’t. Their house had to be about three miles from here.
Abby pushed her glasses up on her nose as she scrutinized Joy. She was in mama hen mode, assessing the stranger-danger potential of this situation. Joy saw the girl seem to relax as she realized who Joy was.
Willow ran over to Joy’s car. “Mrs. Townsend usually picks us up after school so we don’t have to ride the bus two times in one day. She says that’s one too many bumpy rides. She must have forgot about us today.”
Joy’s heart ached. Apparently, Willow didn’t know that Mrs. Townsend had retired. Judging by the look on Abby’s face, however, she did. “What about your dad? Why didn’t he come get you?”
Willow shrugged. “He’s working. So are Nana and Papa. Plus, they thought Mrs. Townsend was coming. Abby said if we went inside and told the principal we were forgot about, that he might call bad people who’ll take us away.” Willow’s wide smile dropped. “I don’t want to be taken away.”
Joy’s mouth fell open. Her gaze jumped to Abby, who looked down at her feet.
“I said that might happen, Willow,” the older girl muttered just loud enough for Joy to overhear. “I mean, it could.”
Joy’s heart broke again, even as anger curled in her belly. Granger knew Mrs. Townsend wasn’t picking the girls up. How could he leave them out here all alone to worry about things like social services and being taken into foster care? “Hop in, girls. I’ll drive you home.”
Willow jumped up and down and grabbed the car door handle but Abby hesitated. “What if Dad is just running late? And he shows up and we’re not here? He’ll be worried.”
Joy offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll call and let him know, okay?”
Abby nodded and then climbed into the back seat. Before taking off, Joy dialed Granger’s number. No answer. She wasn’t worried that he was going to show up. In fact, she was willing to bet that he’d forgotten all about his parental duties today.
“Buckle up,” Joy said. “Let’s get you girls home.” And after that, she planned on having a chat with their father.
* * *
Granger headed away from the woods where he had gone for a walk to clear his head. Earlier today he’d called every tree farm he knew, and no one had trees to spare for Merry Mountain Farms.
What was he going to do? It was almost Christmas. Customers would be filing in and expecting their usual evergreens. And if he couldn’t provide them, they’d have to go elsewhere.
Granger turned toward the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway. He lifted his gaze and recognized Joy’s car driving toward him. His heart gave a funny little jolt. He’d thought of her a couple of times since Halloween night. Okay, he’d thought of her before that too. She’d caught his eye when he’d taken the girls for arts and crafts at the library. And when he’d seen her selling her art in various festivals in town.
Joy’s car came to a stop, and Granger’s mind was slow to process three doors swinging open. His daughters exited out of two of them.
“Daddy!” Willow said, hurrying toward him as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Abby wore a thick frown, her pale brows furrowed as she latched onto the straps of her book bag, clinching them tightly to the middle of her chest.
Granger looked at Joy, who wore a thicker frown. His mind caught up, and his heart dropped. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, turning to Abby first.
“Not your fault, Daddy,” Willow said. “Mrs. Townsend didn’t remember to pick us up.”
He swallowed past the familiar guilt. As a single father, he always felt guilty about something. There was always more that he could be doing or some ball in the air that he was letting drop.
Joy cleared her throat. “Girls, it’s chilly out here. And Willow, you said you were hungry.”
“I’ll make her a snack,” Abby said, not waiting around for any protests. Granger would gladly go make that snack for Willow but Joy wasn’t heading back toward her vehicle so he suspected she wanted to talk to him.
“Thanks, Abs,” Granger said. Tin left his side to go in with the girls, perhaps sensing that it would be a lot more fun in there than out here. Granger had a feeling Tin was right.
Joy waited to speak until the girls were out of earshot. Once the door was closed, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
“I already feel awful, okay? I didn’t mean to,” he said immediately.
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? They were walking home alone. Abby didn’t want to tell the principal they didn’t have a ride because she was worried about getting taken away by social services.”
Granger shifted on his feet. “Principal Nelson knows me. He would’ve driven the girls here himself.”
Joy shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Abby was scared, and she felt like she had to protect her younger sister. And you. You never should have put her in that position.”
Granger held out his hands. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. The day got away from me. And I’m used to having Mrs. Townsend get them. Otherwise, I would have gone and picked them up myself. Or asked my mom to help.”
Joy looked away.
He knew she was judging him right now. And maybe he deserved it but he was doing his best. Even when his best wasn’t nearly good enough.
“Anyway, thank you for helping the girls. I appreciate it.” He turned to go inside, stopping short at the sound of Joy’s huffing. Granger turned back to face her. “Is there something else?”
She narrowed her brown eyes, which seemed a shade darker than usual. “You haven’t even told Willow about Mrs. Townsend.”
“Not yet, but I’m doing that just as soon as I go inside. I was hoping to have a new plan to give her when I did, but…” He trailed off. There was no new plan. Abby would likely be taking care of her sister. And he and his mother would pitch in between trying to keep the farm afloat. “I’m going to call a few more contacts. I spoke to Dawanda at the fudge shop earlier. She knows everyone in town so maybe she’ll find a suitable person for the time being.”
Joy shook her head. “I don’t work in childcare anymore,” she finally muttered.
“You made that clear the other night.”
“I only take jobs involving art,” she added.
Granger nodded and stepped closer. “Noted.”
She stared at him for a long moment. Was he missing something? “So I’m only available if you want to hire me for art-related services.”
Granger folded his arms over his chest, mirroring her now. “You’re going to have to be clearer than that with me. What are you suggesting?”
Joy’s expression softened. “Like I told you the other night, my parents were always working. I walked home alone more days than not. It’s lonely, and I love your girls too much to watch them go through that.”
“Forgetting them today was an honest mistake. I’m not going to let it happen
again.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m doing my best.”
Joy’s expression softened a touch more. “I think that’s true. And I don’t mind coming over every day after school to nurture your girls’ artistic skills.”
“Art lessons?” Granger asked, thinking he was catching on.
“Exactly. And play is very creative. It feeds the imagination, which feeds the art. Snacks too. And artists need to keep their work space clean so chores are included.”
Joy was being creative with her proposed job description but Granger wasn’t going to argue with her. He was desperate, and he trusted Joy.
“Just until after the holidays,” she added. “By then, I’m hoping I’ll have a place for my studio and gallery. I actually have my eye on a place on Main Street.”
“Is that right?” Granger asked.
Joy nodded. “So I won’t be able to keep coming after Christmas.”
“I should be able to find a suitable nan— art teacher to replace you by then.” Granger stuck out his hand.
Joy hesitated in reaching for it. When she slipped her palm against his, everything inside him came alive. And that sent off his internal warning bells. He needed her for his girls, not himself.
“Great. I’ll start by picking the girls up from school tomorrow.”
Chapter Four
Joy stepped into her town house later that night and shrieked as Chelsea launched a premeditated attack. Knowing her cat, Chelsea had likely been stalking the door for hours, waiting for Joy to arrive home.
Joy blew out a breath and laughed as she bent to pick up her lovable fur ball. “What kind of greeting is that?” she asked, flipping on the light switch and heading toward the kitchen. “How are you? Did you miss me?”
Chelsea purred loudly in her arms. Joy loved that sound. It was soothing, and it broke up the silence of living alone.
“I got a job today,” she informed her cat, placing Chelsea back on the floor and flipping on the hot water kettle. She glanced over her shoulder and gave Chelsea a stern look. “It’s an art-related job, just like the one at the library.” She was trying to convince herself as much as her cat. The girls needed her, and Joy needed to replenish her funds so that she could lease that storefront on Main Street for her gallery.
She went through the routine of preparing a cup of tea and then sat down at the kitchen table to drink it with Chelsea vibrating on her lap. She pulled her laptop to her and decided to search for leasing details on Mountain Breeze Realty’s site. Within a few clicks, she was staring at her would-be gallery on her screen. Her breath suspended in her chest as she scrolled through nearly twenty photographs. Not only was the location perfect but it looked amazing on the inside. Not too big, not too small. It was perfect for displaying her pieces on the walls and with easels as stands. And there was enough room in the back to hold small classes of six or seven.
Meow.
Joy ran her hand over Chelsea’s fur, satisfying her pet. “I agree, Chels. It’s the one.” More likely, she was urging Joy to pay more attention to her instead of the computer screen. Joy couldn’t tear her attention away from the old clockmaker’s store though.
She scrolled farther down to see the price, and her heart deflated as if someone had taken a pin and popped it like a balloon. Fifteen hundred dollars a month was more than her town house’s mortgage. Joy believed there was truth in that saying that you had to spend money to make money, and she was sure that she could bring in enough monthly profits to cover the expense eventually. It was just the start-up that would be hard. And she didn’t have enough savings in her account to cover a few hard months.
Still…Joy could picture the gallery in her mind’s eye. It was exactly what she needed to take her career to the next level.
Meow.
Joy nodded, running her hands through Chelsea’s thick fur again. “You’re right, Chels. It doesn’t hurt to call and take a look.” Before allowing herself time to second-guess, she picked up her cell phone and tapped in the number that she’d taken down earlier when she’d driven by—the same one that was on her computer screen right now.
“This is Janelle Cruz,” a woman’s voice answered a moment later.
Joy knew Janelle from the Ladies’ Day Out group that she belonged to. The LDO, as it was affectionately called, was a group of women in town who got together for the sole purpose of having fun. It’d been a while since Joy had joined them in their outings but she had good intentions of doing so again soon. “Hi, Janelle. It’s Joy Benson.”
“Joy, it’s so nice to hear from you. It’s been a while.”
“It has,” Joy agreed. “I’m actually calling because of one of the properties you’re representing on Main Street.”
“Oh, you mean the old clockmaker’s shop?” Janelle asked.
“That’s the one.” Joy nibbled on her bottom lip. It was a pricey property but it was perfect. “I was hoping that I could schedule a time with you to go look at it.”
“Really? You’re interested?” Janelle asked.
“I am. I’ve been looking for a place to open an art gallery all year.”
“Oh, how exciting. An art gallery would be absolutely perfect there!” Janelle said, sounding over-the-top with excitement.
Joy was sure it was a Realtor’s job to sound enthusiastic about all the ideas potential clients brought to her. Even so, Janelle was right—an art gallery would go perfectly in that location.
“I’d love to show the place to you. How would Friday be?”
Friday was a few days away. “I was hoping to see it sooner than that,” Joy confessed. Did that make her sound too eager?
“Let me see…” Janelle hesitated for a moment. Joy imagined her going through her booked calendar. She was apparently a busy woman. “Okay. I can meet with you tomorrow at one thirty if that would be better.”
Joy exhaled a breath and smiled to herself. “Much better. Tomorrow would be perfect.”
* * *
The next day, Joy glanced around the hospital cafeteria impatiently looking for “Dr. Mom,” the nickname she only uttered for her mother in her mind. She was supposed to have met her here for lunch.
This was so like Dr. Mom. She was punctual for her patients but her daughter could wait.
Joy huffed. She knew she was being irrational. Her mom’s patients needed her, and these days, Joy didn’t.
Dr. Mom walked into the far side of the cafeteria, her gaze moving around the room until she located Joy. Joy lifted a hand and waved. She’d already gone through the line and had gotten their food. Her mom had requested a garden salad with grilled chicken—the healthiest option on the menu. Joy had gotten a hot dog with all the toppings and a bag of potato chips—not the healthiest choice, and she was certain Dr. Mom would make sure she knew it.
Her mom approached, looking pleased. “You’re still here,” she said, sitting across the table from Joy and reaching for her container of salad.
“Of course I am. We had a lunch date.”
Dr. Mom nodded as she slipped the covering off her plastic utensils. “I thought you might have something else to do other than wait me out.”
She said it with a smile but Joy knew better. Her mom was subtly implying that Joy should be working. And by working, she meant a “real job.” How many times had Joy listened to her stance on Joy’s current occupation being a side job? A hobby? Not practical?
“Well, it would be rude to stand you up for a lunch date. I have better manners than that, Dr. Mom,” Joy said. As soon as her mental nickname rolled off her lips, she felt her eyes widen. She gave a small, nervous laugh and shook her head. “I mean, um…Mom.”
Her mom stiffened. Then they fell into silence as they began to eat.
“I do have plans this afternoon. I have an appointment at one thirty.” No need to mention that it was with Janelle Cruz. Joy didn’t want her mom’s opinion on that front. “And I have a private class after that,” Joy said, glancing at the time on her phone’s screen. She had to be
in the car pool line in front of Sweetwater Elementary two hours from now in order to pick up the students for their private class.
“Oh? Another class at the community center or at the library?” Her mom stabbed a piece of lettuce and looked at her with interest.
Joy shook her head. “Actually, I’m going to start giving art lessons to Granger Fields’s daughters, Abigail and Willow.”
Her mom continued to stare at her as she ate her salad. “How often will you be giving these lessons?”
“Every day,” Joy supplied. “After school.”
Her mom lifted an eyebrow. “So you’re babysitting the girls?”
“No.” Joy stiffened. “I’m giving art lessons.”
“For how long?” her mom asked.
“What?”
“Every day after school for how long? I know that Mrs. Townsend recently retired. A colleague of mine told me. Has Granger hired you to be the children’s new nanny?”
Joy felt all her defenses rise as she sat up straighter. “No, I’m not their nanny.”
Her mom ignored her objections. “Well, I think that’s good news. It’s honest work, and you can still dabble in your hobbies while the girls are at school.”
Joy felt like her head was going to explode. She felt like a teenager instead of a thirty-year-old woman. “Art isn’t a hobby for me, Mom. It’s a career. I’m not a nanny. I’m a full-time artist. And I’m about to lease a store for my gallery.” So much for not telling Dr. Mom about her appointment with Janelle Cruz.
Her mom took a sip from her water bottle. “This is news to me. Where?”
“On Main Street.”
Dr. Mom gave her an assessing look. “That’s expensive real estate.”
It was. But Joy had promised herself last night that she would do what it took to make it happen. A gallery was the next step in her career, and it was definitely time.
“I didn’t realize your online store was doing that well,” her mom said.
“I have more than an online store.” But her mom already knew that. Joy also consigned her pieces at the Sweetwater Café that her mom frequented and in the hospital’s own gift shop. “And yes, I’m doing very well.” Joy was proud of her accomplishments. She just wished her parents could appreciate them too.
