“Alex for sure, then.” Francie wondered why calling him Alexis would be a jab.
He stood watching her, his cheeks spread in a smile, and the shadow that had been lurking in the back of his eyes disappeared. Had her anger and coldness to him been a part of that? Well, not anymore. Francie smiled back, as warmly as she could, happy that her boss wasn't an ogre after all. Alex coughed and went into his office.
Back in his office to get what he needed for his next class, Alex paused. Mrs. Davis—Francie—was humming. The tune was soothing, and he decided she probably had a pleasant alto voice when she sang. Her smile came to mind.
Stepping back so he could see where she sat, Alex watched Francie work. What had happened to make her so happy the last couple of days? Had she met someone? An unusual sensation swept him, and he frowned. Why would it rub him wrong that she might be seeing someone? He didn’t care.
She pulled out a drawer, revealing bright folders, obviously color coded. The anal organizer in him wanted to check out her system. Alex nodded. That was it. He didn’t like the idea of her seeing someone because, if she got all loopy over a man, it would impact her productivity.
“Do you need something, Alex?”
She watched him expectantly with her bright, happy eyes. Where they had once been cold, they were now dark and expressive. Rich and deep. He blinked, confused.
“No, I, uh,” Alex stuttered. “I forgot something.”
He fled back into his office and grabbed his jacket. What was that all about? Alex didn’t look at her as he hurried out the door. He was in bad shape if a pretty woman's pleasant manner was enough to mess with his head like that. Maybe it was a good thing he had let Sam write that dating profile for him.
Outside, Alex shivered and turned up his collar against the cold, late September wind. The trees in the foothills were already changing color. It was going to be an early winter. Few people realized that hot and muggy North Carolina had sections with a cold climate. It might be one of the state’s best-kept secrets. Opening the folder, he tried to distract himself by flipping through the tests he would be returning in the next class.
Alex almost ran into someone and had to close the file for everyone’s safety. At once, Francie’s dark eyes and beautiful smile came to mind. He shook his head and started to jog. If he got to class a little early, he might have time to check the email Sam had set up for the online dating account. If he could remember the password.
There were already a few students in the classroom. All of them had questions which kept him busy right up to the start of class. After back-to-back classes, Alex was ready for lunch, so he headed over to the Central Dining Hall. He grabbed a burger and sat near a window where he had good reception.
It took three tries, but he finally got into the new email account. He leaned back in his chair. A dozen emails? The first two were instructional ones from the site, so he moved to the next one. Holding his sandwich in his left hand, Alex clicked open the first email from someone called IAmUrDestiny. He groaned. Not that he could say anything. Sam had chosen KnightWeight for his user name.
“KnightWeight?” he had asked.
“Sure. Don’t you get it? Knight is for history, and Weight says you’re a lifter.”
“No, I think it says I’m an idiot to do this.”
“Daddy! Work with me on this.” Sam had giggled and nudged him with her elbow, giving him a sly look. “And Knight hints at being a hero without being in your face about it. Because you are, you know, to me.”
With the lump in his throat, Alex hadn’t been able to argue anymore. So his dignity had been sacrificed on the altar of fatherly love. If his baby was willing to forget their recent arguments, he would do just about anything for her.
Reading through Destiny’s email, he wondered what Sam had written in his profile. Stupid of him not to have looked. How much fun had she had at his expense?
By the time Alex finished his lunch, he had deleted seven of the emails. He sent tentative responses to the other three women. Peering more closely at one of their pictures, he noticed a billboard in the background for a movie that had come out at least ten years earlier. The woman in the picture looked forty, so she must be fifty now. What age had Sam put on his account?
He was throwing away his garbage from lunch when his phone dinged receipt of an email. Did he really want to see who it was from? Alex reached into his pocket. Sam would ask him at dinner, so he had better look. It was from Destiny. She wondered if he would like to meet. That seemed really fast. What did he do now?
By Thursday, Francie and Rose had eaten lunch together every day. Francie wanted to ask the girl about her meeting with Professor Eldred, but none of their topics had come close enough to make a natural transition. Maybe if she came over again on Friday night, they could talk about it.
“What are you up to this weekend?” Francie carefully folded the paper bag. One more time, and she could throw it away.
“Ugh.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I had to promise my mother I would stay the night with her on Friday. She’s such a drama queen.” The girl scrunched her face. “I am too, sometimes. This summer I thought if I tried to be like her maybe she would let up on me and my dad. She married this creepy guy from France, and she’s moving there in January. Mom wants me to live with her.”
Francie considered her response, trying not to show her alarm. It seemed that almost every new revelation about Rose’s life added to Francie’s unease about the girl’s situation. It was obvious she was keeping a lot back. A mother who was never satisfied with her daughter was bad enough, but a creepy stepfather too? Francie had learned the hard way to pay attention when her instincts said a guy was creepy. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her desire to bring Rose home with her where Francie could keep her safe.
“What’s it like at your mother’s? Does she do fun things?”
“They’re really into parties. Mom likes the French approach to underage drinking.” Rose scowled and leaned closer. “I swear Michel’s tried to get me drunk a couple of times, whenever his friends are there.” She shuddered then blushed. “I didn’t mean to say anything about that.”
“Does your mother know about this?” Francie reached across the table and laid her hand on Rose’s.
The girl shook her head, her expression closed off. She sat stiffly in the chair, almost daring Francie to ask any more questions. She had a strong feeling that if she did, Rose would leave, so Francie put her folded brown bag in her purse.
“It’s supposed to freeze tomorrow night.” Rose handed back Francie’s empty plastic container. “Do you need help tonight bringing in the rest of your stuff? I can come over after school. You keep bringing me these yummy foods. I feel like I need to pay you back.”
“You can come over any time you want, and not because you need to pay me back. I don’t know how to cook small, and my son's not there to eat the leftovers. You’re doing me a favor.”
“If you’re sure.” Rose stood and picked up her backpack. “I have to get to class.”
“Rose.”
The girl turn back, her expression guarded.
“Listen to your instincts.” Francie clenched her fists and tried to push away the ugly memories. “I used to clean houses. Early on, I didn’t listen to mine, and a guy tried to rape me.” She brushed at her eyes. He had threatened to press charges against her for assault when she’d hit him in the head with a lamp to get him off her. Since it was a situation of her word against his, her boss had fired her.
Rose’s face softened, and she whispered, “I will.” She started to turn but looked back. “Is five okay? I can start picking if you’re not home yet.”
“That’ll be great.”
Rose was already busy in the garden when Francie got home. Throwing on some jeans and a sweater, she dashed outside. The wind was picking up, and she wondered if it might freeze sooner than forecasted.
By the time they had lost the light, their baskets were full. Shivering, they
hurried into the warm kitchen and washed up. Francie watched with satisfaction as Rose went right to work, remembering every detail from Friday. While the girl worked, Francie got dinner out of the fridge.
“Sorry you have to eat this twice today.” She tilted the casserole dish so Rose could see the contents, before sliding it into the oven.
“Why don’t you just nuke it?”
“Foods lose their crunchiness in the microwave. This dish is still good cold, but not soggy.”
When they had finished washing all the fruits and vegetables and stowing them in the large, old refrigerator, dinner was ready. Francie put the steaming dish in the middle of the table, while Rose got the plates. She leaned over it and took a whiff.
“All this summer while I was trying to be like my mother, I was starving myself so I could get super skinny like she is.” Rose scooped out a huge helping of crispy vegetables and cheese. “If I keep eating your cooking, Francie, I won’t fit all those tiny clothes she bought me.”
“Do you mind gaining weight? You’re awfully thin.”
“If I get to eat like this every day, I don’t care if I weigh two hundred pounds.” Rose took a bite and chewed, practically humming with pleasure. “Besides, I’ve felt better all this week than I have in months. I like eating like this. When I was hungry all the time, I got so depressed. I’m not sure I could go back to that. I want to try some of your recipes on my dad. Do you dry all your spices? Will the ones we have at home taste as good as yours?”
“I just dry the standard stuff and buy the exotic ones, like cinnamon. How did your dad like the jam?”
“Oh, no!” Sam put her hands to her mouth and giggled. “I totally forgot. When I got home I helped him sign up at an online dating site. The next morning I was in a hurry and pulled them out and forgot about them. I don't even remember where I put them. If find them, I can use them for dessert with my special dinner. I wish I didn’t have to go to my mother’s tomorrow.”
“Why do you have to go? You’re over eighteen.”
“You don’t know my mother. The price is too high to pay if I don’t make a showing. Choose a recipe you think I can handle, and I’ll fix it for him on Sunday.”
The wind gusted and rattled the screen door. Francie and Sam ran to look out the window. In the light of the back porch, huge drops of rain had begun marking the dirt outside.
“Oh, honey. You’d better hurry home before it gets any worse.”
“Yeah.” Rose threw on her coat and grabbed her bag. “Can you send me the recipe?”
“Of course. Text me when you get home.”
“Okay.”
Once again, with Rose gone, the house seemed to close in on Francie. She watched from the front window until the car’s rear lights faded. Another gust of wind made the windows rattle, and a squarish object flew down from the roof.
“No, no, no!” Francie jerked open the door and dashed out front. Whatever had come down was long gone. She faced the house, lifting a hand to block the porch light. The wind blasted her, and she stumbled. Another piece of the roof came flying off, and she scrambled to catch it before it blew away. The brittle shingle was split nearly in half and came apart in her hands.
A large rain drop hit her cheek, and she brushed it away, but it was followed by another and then another. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and a couple more shingles flew off. Would she still have a roof when the storm was over? The rain hit like someone had poured a bucket of water over her, and she darted under the shelter of the large porch.
How could she pay for a roof patch? What if the whole thing had to be replaced? Granny Gladys had trusted Francie with her home. The old woman would hate to see how it was falling apart. The wind shifted, and the stinging rain drove Francie into the house.
With a huge sigh, she went to the kitchen to get some pots. She hoped she could find all the leaks.
Alex checked the address for the historical house again. He hadn’t been out that way in years. Driving down the road, the bright Saturday morning sunshine made the clean air sparkle. After the freakishly cold storm on Thursday night, it had taken most of the afternoon on Friday before the ice melted. While still chilly, the day promised to be beautiful.
The sudden drop in temperature had made the trees change colors practically overnight. The crisp, bright reds, golds, and oranges of the leaves made him smile. Fall had always been his favorite season, and the changing colors were one of the reasons. He wished Sam hadn’t had to go to her mother’s. It would’ve been a beautiful day to take a hike. Maybe Sunday.
Alex saw the corner of the building, the roof hidden behind bright yellow leaves. His pulse sped up as he turned into the drive, and he got a full view. What a great old house. With the feel of an old farmhouse, it was surrounded by a covered porch that, even in this cold weather, seemed to invite him to pull up a rocker to sit and enjoy the scenery.
He parked the car and got out, turning so he could see the same view as the people in the house. It was far enough from town to give any visitor looking for peace and quiet exactly that. Taking his time, Alex walked around the front, examining the status of the upkeep. The place was shabby, but not crumbling. A fresh coat of paint would fix a lot, though it looked like there were some shingles missing, maybe from the storm the other night.
The porch was even better looking than it had been from the street. The owners had a quirky assortment of old chairs that added to the charm of the place. He stepped onto the doormat and stomped his feet as he knocked. At first, he didn’t hear anything, but then a sharp rap rang out like someone hitting wood with a hammer.
Alex moved back onto the sidewalk. The noise came again, this time obviously from above. The owner must be fixing the roof. He walked toward the back where the sound was coming from. A figure in a red knit cap and a heavy coat raised an arm.
“Hello there,” Alex called.
The person jumped and turned toward him. “Alex?” the familiar voice said. Then she lost her balance, sliding off the steep roof with a scream.
He ran forward, reaching out his arms as if he could do something from where he stood below. For a second she clawed at the eaves of the roof, but her grip failed. She hit the porch’s roof with an awful crunch and a cry of pain, before tumbling off the edge. Alex lunged to catch her, but her heavy boots hit him square on the chest, and they both went down.
It took a second before Alex could catch his breath. He put his arms around the moaning woman on top of him. When he was able to speak, he tapped her red cap. “Francie, are you all right?”
She lifted her head and looked at him, tears running down her bright red cheeks. “Ow. Ow, ow,” she gasped. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. Can you move?” She nodded, and he gave her a soft push. As she moved over to her back, she cried out in pain.
Alex rolled to his side. “Where does it hurt?”
“My ankle.”
Alex got to his knees and rubbed his chest. That was going to leave a mark. He scooted down to her feet, and he could tell immediately by the way she was holding it which one she had hurt. After he unlaced the boot, he pulled it off as gently as possible, but she still cried out.
“Sorry, sorry.” It was already swelling and showed signs of bruising. Alex’s stomach turned; he was responsible for this. “I have to get you inside, so we can put some ice on this. And I’ll drive you to the hospital. They should x-ray it to see if you’ve broken anything. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I don’t know; I hurt everywhere. There’s ice in the freezer. Alex, I can't go to the hospital. I don't have insurance.” Francie rolled to her side, moaning as she moved the foot.
“What are you doing?” Alex put his hand on her hip and rolled her to her back.
“I have to get into the house.”
“Let me help you.” He stood, wondering how best to get her upright without jarring the ankle. He bent over her, moving his hands first to put them under her arms, then shifting them to he
r hands then back to her arms.
Francie choked back a laugh, and Alex relaxed. “Is there anyone else here who could help me?”
“No one close. I live alone.
“I don’t think I’ll have a problem carrying you inside.”
Her already flushed cheeks seemed to go a little redder, and she struggled to sit up. Alex stepped behind her and put his hands under her arms. She stumbled and fell back against him. He put his arms around her waist to keep her from falling again. How had he never noticed how good she smelled, like fresh air and sweet summer days and comfort food?
“Can you hold yourself up on your good foot? You do have a good foot, don't you?” He let her go, keeping one hand on each elbow to steady her.
“I think so.” Her breathing was ragged, and her hands shook a little.
He stepped to her side and moved to put an arm behind her legs. “I’ll carry you inside.”
“No.” She hopped away from him and turned to face him, wincing with the movement. Her eyes were wide.
“You can’t walk in by yourself,” Alex said, frustrated. “Just that little movement hurt you, didn’t it?”
She stiffened her chin.
“Fine then. I'll do something else.” He turned his back to her and backed up until he was right up against her. She had to put her arms around his waist to keep from falling over. Before she could say anything, he reached back and grabbed a leg with each hand, squatted down, and hefted her onto his back.
Squealing in surprise, Francie threw her right hand over his shoulder and down his chest, clasping her hands together. He carried her to the front door and turned so she could reach the handle. She opened the screen door, and he used his foot to push it more open, before repeating the process with the front door. He paused in the spacious entryway, Francie still on his back, and looked around.
Second Chances 101 (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella Book 5) Page 6
