“Hey, I was as much a guest as anyone. It just happened to be at my house, that’s all. The one you want to thank is Rita. She was the one who put it all together.”
“I’ll do that.”
They had reached the vestibule, and Sarah was able to put a couple more feet between them. She could deal with Chris more easily if she didn’t have to look up to do it. “I do owe you an apology, though.”
Chris raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Yeah, the crack about the instructions was uncalled-for. It was a poor joke and I’m sorry.” There. She had said it, and now she could be done with Chris Reed.
“Oh, that.” There was that aw-shucks grin again. “Well, I sure didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t cook. I was just trying to make it easy for you.”
She couldn’t help it. She smiled back. “Well, I appreciate it. Because you know what? I do need written instructions to boil water.”
“It’s not nearly as hard as it looks, but I could write out the instructions for that too, if you want me to.”
Chris’s furrowed brow and the concern in his eyes confused Sarah. Surely he knew she was joking. Then she noticed the tiny grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and she burst out laughing.
“You do that. And don’t forget the part about filling the kettle first. That’s the bit that I really struggle with.” Through the church doors Sarah could see that Elizabeth had finished her conversation with the pastor and was making her careful way across the parking lot. She tossed Chris a hurried wave. “Gotta go. Again, sorry for the cheap shot, and thanks for the . . . ?”
“Boneless chicken breast with mushrooms and artichokes.”
“Uh, right, that.” Sarah turned and, stopping at the door for only the briefest handshake with Brother Parker, raced to catch up with Elizabeth.
Chris watched her go, wanting to kick himself. Why did he have to sound like a menu? Why couldn’t he have just said “chicken”? Everyone likes chicken. And why did he, one of the fastest and most agile running backs his high school had ever fielded, and a smart guy too, always feel like a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal whenever Sarah Cooley was around?
“Well, that was a heavy sigh.” Chris turned to find Lurlene entering the vestibule and smiling at him.
“Hi, Lurlene.” He decided to ignore the comment about his sigh. What could he say to explain it, anyway? “It was a good service today. And I especially liked the offertory. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the choir sound better.”
“Funny you should mention that, Chris, because that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Uh-oh.
“You have a very nice voice, do you know that? And I’ll just say it straight out. We sure could use you in the choir.”
“Thanks, Lurlene, but I just don’t see how I can take on anything else right now. I just don’t have the bandwidth. I’m still trying to get my feet on the ground at the Dip ’n’ Dine.”
“Well, yes, I have heard a little bit about that.”
Oh you have, have you? And where would that come from, as if I didn’t know?
Lurlene smiled and patted his arm. “You’re doing just fine. We’re proud to have you in Last Chance. And the choir’s not going anywhere. We’ll be here when you’re ready for us.”
Chris wanted to hug Lurlene. Her encouraging words made him realize how few he had heard since he arrived in Last Chance. It almost made him want to join the choir, just to please her. Almost. He smiled instead.
“I’ll remember that.”
“And here’s one more thing for you to remember.” Lurlene had walked with him to the door and paused before she went to her own car. “If God has something for you to do, he’s going to give you the wherewithal to do it, whether it’s the time, the energy, or the bandwidth, whatever that is. That’s your filter, not how you feel about things.”
Chris watched her go before heading to his Jeep. For a few seconds he had thought that she understood how overwhelmed he was, that she might be concerned about him as a person, not just a baritone. He couldn’t blame her, though. She was devoted to the choir.
He had just climbed into the front seat when Lurlene drove by and leaned out her window. “And I’m not talking about the choir, either!”
With a wave, Lurlene drove out of the parking lot, and Chris watched her go. Okay, then, if she wasn’t talking about the choir, then what? The image of Sarah Cooley floated through his mind again. Could Lurlene possibly have seen something there? Could she have been encouraging Chris to follow up on that?
Chris turned the ignition key and shoved the gearshift into Reverse. Get real, Reed. The only thing anyone could have noticed about you and Sarah Cooley is that she pretty much can’t stand you. Lurlene just meant what she said—let God decide what you have the bandwidth for.
“Was that Chris Reed I saw you talking to after church?” Elizabeth settled herself in the front seat as Sarah started her car.
“Well, there aren’t too many other behemoths floating around, so I guess it must have been him that you saw.” For a moment Sarah thought she may have gone too far. Gran let a lot go by, but when you crossed the line from sassy to what she considered disrespectful, she yanked you up short. But Gran seemed ready to let this one pass.
“Did you get things straightened out with him?”
“I guess. At any rate, I said I was sorry, and he said okay, so we’re done.”
“Did you invite him over for coffee or something?”
“Good heavens, why would I do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just to be friendly, I guess. There aren’t that many single young people in town, and he doesn’t have much of a social life here.”
“Well, I sure don’t see it as my job to provide him with one. Are you matchmaking, Gran?”
“Of course not. I just think he’s a nice young man and he seems lonely to me. I know between Carlos and Juanita, they’re giving him fits at the Dip ’n’ Dine, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a life beyond that. A friendly cup of coffee might go a long way toward making him feel at home in Last Chance, that’s all.”
“Well, I have to say this.” Sarah stopped in her grandmother’s driveway. “I don’t think he’s quite as stuck on himself as I once did. He does have a sense of humor. But do you know what was in those packages he brought?” She lowered her voice to an affected baritone. “Boneless chicken breast with artichokes and mushrooms.”
“Sounds good. Different anyway.” Elizabeth gathered her belongings and prepared to climb out.
“Want to come have lunch with me? We could have chicken with artichokes and mushrooms.”
“Not today, sweet girl. I’m just too tired for anything. It seems I can pretty much do anything I ever could, but it just takes me longer and longer to recover.”
“Are you okay?” Sarah covered Elizabeth’s hand with her own. She wanted to take care of Gran, but that didn’t mean Gran was supposed to get old.
“I’m fine.” Elizabeth opened the door. “I just need my nap. You can come back this evening for some waffles, if you want. But you should know I’m going to call Chris Reed as soon as I get up and invite him too. I think that boy could use some company.”
“Wish I could.” Actually, those waffles were sounding good until Gran mentioned inviting Chris. “But I really need to get finished with my unpacking. School’s going to be starting soon, and I won’t have time then.”
Elizabeth just nodded. “Suit yourself, honey, but you have to eat something, so if you decide you have time, just come on over.”
Sarah watched her grandmother go into the house before heading down the street to her own place. She never could shake the feeling that Gran could see right into her soul, and she felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. Truthfully, she did have some more boxes to unpack, but she knew that wasn’t really what was keeping her from Gran’s. Gran would never admit it, but if she wasn’t actually into matchmaking, she was certainly providing the opportunities.
&n
bsp; She slipped off her shoes at the door and padded into the kitchen. It smelled like coffee, and sunlight spilled through the window and left a wide patch of light on the linoleum floor. She found herself humming as she opened the refrigerator and took out some of last night’s leftovers. She loved her little house. She loved being back in Last Chance. She loved knowing that she’d be teaching her first class in a few weeks, and she even loved the fact that she had squared things up with Chris and could let him go his way while she went hers. A sense of well-being filled her to the bursting point and poured out in song. Who cared whether or not it was on key? This was her house.
The muffled ring of her phone summoned her to the living room. Still singing, she danced her way back to the sofa where she had tossed her purse and dug through till she found her phone. The song died, and so did the dance. For a long moment she stared at the name and face that appeared on the screen. The ring stopped, probably heading to voice mail. Sarah turned off the ringer, knowing it would just chime again, and buried it under the lime green throw pillow. One of these days, she would take the call, but she wasn’t up to it just yet. She just needed more time.
6
The sun was just slipping behind the mountains on the horizon to the west when Sarah collapsed her last cardboard box, poured herself a glass of iced tea, and plopped down in front of the little window air conditioner in her living room. She propped her feet on her coffee table and leaned back against the cushions. It was done. She was all moved in. She closed her eyes and let the cool air and the gentle drone lull her almost to sleep.
The lime green pillow under her elbow vibrated, and she peeked under it to find the still silenced phone. She smiled at the slightly annoyed face filling the screen. Gran hated getting her picture taken.
“Hey, there. What’s up?”
“Hello, sweet girl. I didn’t wake you, did I?” Gran firmly believed that Sunday afternoons were made for naps as surely as Sunday mornings were made for worship services.
“Nope, I’m just sitting here drinking some tea.”
“Well, I was just wondering . . . did you happen to get any syrup last night?”
“Two or three bottles. Why? Need some?”
“I’ve got about enough for one waffle. I’m so put out with myself. I didn’t even think about it when I invited Chris over. If you could lend me a bottle, I’ll replace it next time I go shopping.”
“No need. I’ve got more syrup than I’ll ever use. Just give me a little time to clean up, and I’ll bring it over.”
“Thank you, honey. There’s no rush. I won’t need it for another hour or so.”
Sarah hung up the phone and headed down the hall to the bathroom. She stopped just before she got there. Why was she cleaning up to run a bottle of syrup down to Gran’s, unless she was falling into Gran’s matchmaking plans? And despite her grandmother’s protests to the contrary, she was pretty sure Gran was matchmaking.
Sarah turned on her heel, grabbed a bottle of syrup from her stuffed cupboard, and ran down the street to Elizabeth’s house.
Elizabeth was sitting in her recliner crocheting and watching television when Sarah came through the front door. She looked up in surprise.
“Well, Sarah! I thought you were coming over later.”
“You know, I just want to take a shower, climb into something comfortable, and kick back. I thought I’d run this down first.”
“But I was hoping to talk you into staying for supper.” Elizabeth rested her crocheting on her lap and looked up, clearly disappointed.
“Gran, what am I going to do with you?” Sarah gave her grandmother an exasperated smile. “I’ve already told you that trying to play matchmaker between me and Chris Reed is a waste of time. I am not interested.”
“And I’ve already told you that I am not matchmaking. I just thought it might be more of a party with you here, that’s all.”
A twinge of guilt poked Sarah somewhere in her middle, but she refused to give in to it. Even if Elizabeth had absolutely no intention of matching her up with Chris—and she had to admit she’d never known her grandmother to tell even a half-truth—she didn’t want Chris getting any ideas. She was not so naïve or so clueless that she didn’t know what Chris’s puppy dog stares meant, and if he came for dinner and found her here, he just might think she was being served up with a side of sausage. The thought made her shudder and completely erased the twinge of guilt.
“I’m sorry, Gran.” Sarah tried to make her smile conciliatory. “But I really am beat. I would be terrible company, I promise you. But we’ll have waffles next Sunday for sure. In fact, if you let me borrow your waffle iron, I’ll fix them for you and we’ll eat at my house.”
“Well, all right then.” Elizabeth seemed to know her battle was lost. “Go on home and get some rest. But I have to say, if you end the Lord’s Day more tired than you began it, you might need to rethink the way you spend it.”
Sarah tried not to heave the sigh that filled her chest. Gran could be so . . . Granish. “It’s been a really busy week with moving and all, but I’m settled in now. This coming week should be easier. I’m going to run up to San Ramon one day to get some things to decorate my classroom. Want to come?”
Elizabeth’s smile lost all trace of disappointment. “I’d love to. Fixing up the classroom was one of my favorite parts of teaching, although back then we didn’t have near what you all have today.”
“Great.” Sarah set the syrup on the table and headed out the door. “I’ll give you a call and we can decide when to go.”
“You do that.” Elizabeth picked up her crocheting again. “Shall I tell Chris you said hi?”
Sarah stuck her head back in the door. “No.”
Chris parked in front of Elizabeth Cooley’s just before six. This was his first invitation to a meal with anyone since he arrived in Last Chance. That in itself wasn’t too unusual. Chefs, he had discovered, didn’t get many dinner invitations, and neither, it seemed, did chefs-turned-diner-owners.
Elizabeth and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee met him at the door. Her eyes lit up at the flowers he held. “Well, aren’t you sweet? These are just lovely. Come with me to the kitchen while I put them in some water.”
Chris followed. His mom had told him never to accept a dinner invitation and go empty-handed—to always take wine or flowers. And since he had a feeling Elizabeth wouldn’t appreciate wine, that left flowers. The only problem was, there was no place in Last Chance to buy flowers, and the only place in San Ramon he could find that was open was the grocery store. They seemed to please her, though.
When Elizabeth set the flowers in the middle of the table, Chris noticed it was set for two. He tried not to let his disappointment show. Elizabeth had not mentioned that anyone else would be here, but, face it, ever since she had called him this afternoon, he’d been hoping to see Sarah here. He had made one bad impression after another, and a nice, relaxed evening away from the diner might have given him just the chance he needed to finally get her to stop looking at him as if he really needed a keeper.
Elizabeth stopped talking, and he realized she had asked him about his family. He tried to regroup his thoughts and hoped he was answering the right question.
“They’re in Scottsdale. My parents have their own real estate company, which keeps them really busy, and I have one sister, Kaitlyn. She has a little girl, Olivia.” Thinking about Olivia always made him smile, and Elizabeth seemed to pick up on his delight right away.
“I bet she’s darling. How old is she?”
“She’s seven. I don’t know that I’d call her ‘darling,’ though. I think of darling as someone in a fluffy dress sitting on a cushion, and that’s definitely not Olivia. She’s so smart she scares me, but she hasn’t had an easy time of it, and she’s a tough little cookie. She’s been sent home for fighting more than once. I worry about her.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds like you need to worry more about the other kids. Olivia’s doing okay.”
She plugged in her waffle iron, set a mug of coffee on the table next to Chris, and started stirring up the waffle batter before she returned the conversation to Olivia.
“You didn’t mention a brother-in-law. Is Olivia’s dad in the picture?”
Chris shook his head. “Nope. Both he and Kaitlyn were just kids, and he ran. Kaitlyn’s done this pretty much on her own.”
“But your folks were there.” It was more a question than a statement.
Chris shrugged. Ordinarily he was fiercely protective of his family. He had built a high wall around them in his heart and stood guard, sword drawn, daring any outsider to judge or even criticize. But Elizabeth wasn’t coming across as doing either. She just seemed interested and warm, and he felt himself relaxing a bit. “Well, they gave her and Olivia a home, of course, until Kaitlyn could get out on her own. And they put her through beauty school so she could take care of herself and Olivia, but they’re too busy to babysit and stuff, if that’s what you mean.”
“Do you get to see them often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. I tried to get them to move out here with me, but they wouldn’t even move to Albuquerque. There’s no way I could get them to a place like Last Chance.” Chris felt his ears grow red as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Nice. Eat a lady’s waffles and insult her town in one fell swoop.
But if he had offended Elizabeth, she gave no sign; she just nodded.
“Well, Last Chance isn’t for everyone, that’s for sure. And I, for one, am glad. If it were, it wouldn’t be Last Chance. It would be just another big city in the desert. Not that we wouldn’t love to have your sister and Olivia here in Last Chance, of course.” She put a cast iron skillet on the stove and took a paper package from the refrigerator. “Now, how about putting those chef skills to work and frying us up some sausage? It should be done about the time the first waffles are ready.”
Chris was grateful for the task. He had talked more openly about his family to Elizabeth than he had ever talked to anyone, and even though she was easy to talk to, he was glad to leave the subject.
One More Last Chance Page 5
