Falling for You Again

by Catherine Palmer

  Sunday was a long way off for a man afire. Pete didn’t like the idea of waiting, and on top of that he resented Patsy’s obvious preference for the company of her female friends. All that smooching in the movie theater must not have meant a thing to her. His profession of love—words that had come from the deepest place in his heart—had been insignificant.

  Despite her tears, Patsy was cold and indifferent to him. Pete had never thought of her as the sort of woman who would lead a man on, but she had admitted it just a few minutes ago. She’d been playing with him. Messing with his mind. Pete could endure a lot, but not that.

  “You don’t have to explain your heart to me,” he said, standing and brushing off his jeans. “Your heart is as hard and icy as a stone. I may not be born again, but I’m not dead and buried either. I have feelings, Patsy, and I don’t like anyone stomping on them.”

  “I know you have feelings.” Tears welled again. “And I have strong feelings for you, too. But I’m scared. I’ve been alone a long time, and I’m used to it. If I keep going the way I was in the theater, I’m liable to end up in a real pickle. Can’t you see that?”

  Shaking her head, she stepped closer and pointed in the direction of the women now gathered in the tea area. Esther Moore had risen from her chair and was reading something to the group. Cody, grinning like a skunk in a cabbage patch, sat beside Jennifer. He had no idea that girl was going to break his heart into tiny pieces.

  “You know how I feel about gossip,” Patsy whispered to Pete. “If you repeat any of what I tell you right now, I’ll be so mad I won’t ever speak to you again.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “See Kim Finley over there? She told me that she’d made a mistake when she ignored the Bible’s teachings about marriage. Derek is a good man, but he doesn’t share her faith, and that has brought trouble to their marriage. They’re working hard to build a strong foundation, but it’s almost impossible without that common ground.”

  Pete regarded the thin, dark-haired woman across the salon. Kim was beautiful in a silent, mysterious kind of way. She had always fascinated Pete, and he was glad Derek Finley was married to her. They were both fine people, so it surprised Pete to hear that they’d had marital problems.

  “Now, see Brenda Hansen?” Patsy murmured. “She and Steve have had problems too. But they’re both committed to God. I think that has made a big difference in the way they’ve gone about working through the difficulties.”

  Pete scratched his head. Kim and Derek. Brenda and Steve. Had those decent, hardworking couples really struggled in their marriages? Who was Patsy going to bring up next—Esther and Charlie Moore?

  “You and I,” she said. “We’re too different. My faith is what I cling to, Pete. It’s all I’ve had for years and years. It’s all I really need in order to have a fulfilling life—and you don’t even understand it. You’re doing all the right things, and you’re trying your best. But I’m scared that you and I don’t have what we need to make things work out well between us. That’s all I’m trying to say. I’m scared, okay? I’m just too scared, Pete.”

  Before he could respond, she laid the cape on the back of the chair and hurried toward the tea area. Pete considered putting his ball cap on and stalking out of the salon. He deserved to be mad. Nothing like pouring your heart out to a woman—offering to behave like a saint every single day for the rest of your life—and then finding out you don’t have what it takes to please her.

  Sure, Pete knew he didn’t understand living for Jesus the way Patsy did, but he figured he was close enough. When he died, he might not get inside the pearly gates, but he’d probably be able to see them, anyhow.

  Besides, how important was faith if it didn’t keep you from having problems like everyone else? If Brenda and Steve Hansen—Mr. and Mrs. Perfect Church Couple—had trouble in their marriage, who wouldn’t? What was the point of having a relationship with God if it didn’t make life easier? And why did it matter so much to Patsy Pringle?

  For a few moments, Pete studied the women sipping their tea and chatting with each other while Esther Moore tried to make herself heard. There they all sat—a flock of peacocks in their matching outfits and sparkly jewelry and well-sprayed hair.

  Then Pete’s attention focused on Cody. By golly, that was a handsome kid. If he wasn’t marching to his own drummer, he’d probably have Jennifer Hansen swooning in his arms. But Cody didn’t seem to notice that he was different. He was smiling, eating cookies, drinking tea, and gawking at the girl beside him.

  Come to think of it, Cody never missed a meeting of the TLC. If that kid could attend, why couldn’t Pete? The fellow he’d hired to help out now and then planned to be at Rods-N-Ends a few more hours. Maybe Pete would just … well, why not? He’d become the second full-fledged male attendee of the Tea Lovers’ Club.

  Patsy noticed Bitty Sondheim slipping into a chair near the hot water urn. She was late for the TLC, but no one minded things like that except Esther Moore. As usual, Bitty looked pretty and strange all at the same time. She had on a red skirt, blue leggings, and a pink polka-dot sweater. Bitty’s blonde hair hung loose and full around her shoulders, and Patsy could almost feel her fingers itching to snatch up a pair of scissors and snip-snap that glorious mane into shape. She had even hinted around a few times, but Bitty never took the bait. Clearly the transplanted Californian enjoyed her long tresses and had no intention of letting Patsy anywhere near them.

  As Bitty settled in, another movement caught Patsy’s eye. The sight of Pete Roberts taking the empty chair beside Cody Goss almost made her gasp aloud.

  He was saying something to Cody and Jennifer, who both laughed and then turned to look right at Patsy. Pete set his ball cap on the table and leaned back in his chair to ponder the glass container of baked treats near the hot water urn. Obviously not listening to Esther’s reading of the minutes any better than Patsy was, he stood up again and went to fetch himself a cup of tea.

  Patsy could not help following Pete with her eyes as he selected a bag of Earl Grey and put it into a delicate china teacup. Just as she had taught him, Pete filled the cup with hot water, then set it aside to steep while he chose a dessert.

  Oh, he truly was a decent, well-meaning man—and it wasn’t as though he had asked her to marry him. He’d only said he loved her and wanted to talk to her about their relationship. And Patsy had informed him that he couldn’t ever live up to her high-and-mighty Christian standards. As if she herself was any good at following the teachings of Jesus.

  Feeling worse than the night she saw her lipstick-smeared reflection at the movie theater, Patsy watched Pete carry his teacup and a lemon bar back to the table beside Cody. So what if Pete hadn’t figured out how to surrender his life to Jesus? Though Patsy called herself a Christian, she believed that becoming Christlike was a gradual process—two steps forward and one back. Maybe in time, the men from Pete’s Bible study group would help him understand what Jesus had meant when He said a person had to be born again.

  “Now where was I?” Esther Moore said. “I don’t think anyone’s paying a bit of attention to me this afternoon. Patsy, what was I talking about?”

  Tearing her focus from the man at the next table, Patsy could feel her cheeks heating up. “I’m not exactly sure myself, Esther,” she said. “But I was wondering about the Thanksgiving get-together in Deepwater Cove. Did you already discuss that?”

  “Thanksgiving?” Esther blinked several times. “Have we had Halloween yet? I don’t remember. … Oh, nuts, Patsy. Now you’ve gotten me all mixed up.”

  “It’s already November, Mrs. Moore,” Cody spoke up. “Halloween passed us by like a witch on a broomstick, which is a metaphor. Brenda says I’m very good at metaphors. When you compare two things inside a sentence, then you’ve made one. Like … Pete and Patsy are as cozy as two worms in an ear of corn. Or … Patsy is as pink as a rose.”

  “Thank you, Cody,” Esther said. “And to my surprise, I see Pete Roberts himself s
itting right beside you. Pete, are you just visiting today, or do you plan to become a member of the Tea Lovers’ Club?”

  As if Patsy weren’t already mortified enough by Cody’s metaphors, now Pete stood to address the group. “I hear the TLC is open to anyone who likes a good cup of tea and wants to help the community. That fits me to a tee, and if no one minds, I’d like to enlist.”

  Esther beamed. “Are there any objections? No, of course there aren’t. Pete, we’re delighted to have you. I would invite Charlie to join, but he’s making me crazy about my arteries. You know how he can be. One thing after another. Mutter, mutter, mutter. He won’t buy me a car because of the accident and the problem we had with falling asleep while we were driving. Well, I was driving, so Charlie blames me, naturally.”

  As Esther spoke, it occurred to Patsy that the older woman was now talking only to Pete—as if she had forgotten she was standing before the members of the TLC.

  “Besides all that,” Esther went on, “Charlie insists on checking on me all the time. ‘How’re you doing, Esther?’ he says, even though he asked me the same question not two minutes before. Yesterday, I got so fed up that I told him to go to California and visit Charles Jr. and the grandkids. Or go to Florida and see Ellie. With winter coming on, I’m not about to travel anywhere, but Charlie could make a trip without any problems. He won’t leave my side, though. It’s like living with a vulture hovering over you all the time. The TLC is the only place I can get any rest from the man.”

  And then Esther seemed to notice she was back in the room.

  “Oh well,” she said, waving a hand as if she could brush away everything she’d just been talking about. “Does anyone remember where we were in the meeting, because I cannot find my place in these minutes.”

  “We were adding Pete Roberts as a member of the TLC,” Cody reminded her. “And Patsy wanted to know about the Thanksgiving get-together.”

  Disturbed at Esther’s revelation of the tension between herself and Charlie, Patsy glanced around the table. How could Esther have said such things in front of the whole group? And why did she appear to be drifting in and out of awareness about her surroundings? Everyone in the room, it seemed, had noticed Esther’s confusion. The usual chatter ceased, and now only the whirr of a hair dryer and the splash of running water sounded from the salon area.

  Patsy could see that Ashley Hanes, who had spent the most time with Esther recently, was frowning.

  Esther was rapidly turning pages in her club notebook. “Are you sure Halloween is over, Cody? I don’t remember it at all. Did the children come around this year?”

  “Not too many, Mrs. Moore.” Cody didn’t seem the least bit aware of Esther’s odd behavior. “It was raining that night. Jennifer says the rain was God’s way of showing His disapproval of Halloween. The other Mrs. Finley says it was nothing more than a weather pattern. But they didn’t get into an argument this time. They’re trying to be friends about Halloween and Buddha and Jesus and if many paths lead to heaven.”

  “I have a report on the Thanksgiving plans,” Kim said suddenly, standing and drawing everyone’s attention from Esther’s befuddlement. “Bitty and I have been working hard on this for several weeks now. Derek talked to the subdivision committee, and we’ll be able to hold our event on the Saturday afternoon before Thanksgiving. We’re planning various activities on the commons area in Deepwater Cove. Bitty, do you want to share our ideas?”

  “I certainly do.” Bitty rose, flipped a handful of blonde hair over her shoulder, and read from notes she had scrawled on a napkin. “We’ll have apple bobbing and a cotton candy machine. I’m going to set up a stand for people who want to dip caramel apples. Steve Hansen found a wagon and tractor we can use, and Brad Hanes knows where to get hay—so we’re planning a hayride around the neighborhood. Charlie Moore and several of the other men are gathering wood for a big bonfire.”

  “Instead of bringing grills down to the lake this year,” Kim continued, “everyone will roast hot dogs over the fire.”

  “Oh boy, hot dogs!” Cody crowed. “I love hot dogs! Hey, Jennifer, did you hear that? Hot dogs!”

  “This is a sign-up list.” Bitty displayed a sheet of yellow legal paper. “We need marshmallows, baked beans, salad, cornbread, buns, desserts—that sort of thing. Each family has to provide its own wieners. Write down your name, the number of people coming, and what you plan to bring. If Patsy will promise not to do any of her lawn chair gymnastics, I promise not to have a hissy fit about how unhealthy all this food is. Though I’ve got to say, you can now find vegetarian hot dogs in the stores, and they’re every bit as good as the regular ones.”

  “Vegetarian hot dogs?” Esther had closed her book of meeting minutes. “That sounds like the worst thing I can ever imagine. Don’t you agree, Pete?”

  Patsy held her breath as the big man pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “To each his own is what I believe,” Pete said, walking toward Esther. “If Bitty wants to eat vegetables and I prefer pork, well, so be it. We ought to all do our best to get along with each other—especially us members of the TLC.”

  Gently, he slipped an arm around Esther’s shoulders and helped her sit down. “I think we’ve about covered all we need to discuss today,” he said, dropping the notebook into her purse and snapping the clasp. “You can adjourn the meeting now, Mrs. Moore.”

  Esther smiled up at Pete. “Thank you, sweetie pie. Yes, let’s end the meeting. Why don’t you sit down here by me and tell me what’s going on with you and Patsy? I hear the two of you went to the movies the other night. How about that? A real date!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Charlie was climbing into his golf cart when he spotted Cody walking toward him.

  “Hey there, young fellow,” Charlie called out. “What are you up to this fine autumn day?”

  “I’m up to the Haneses’ house, but I still have a long way to go,” Cody said. “I have to walk all the way to Tranquility to work at Just As I Am.”

  Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle at the typical Cody comment. Laughter was a welcome respite from his glum mood. This morning, he had risen before dawn and found that he couldn’t stop thinking about George Snyder and the sketch. Each time Charlie tried to bring the man’s name into conversation, Esther deftly changed the subject. That was a pretty good trick for a woman who had taken to putting nearly everything in sight into the dishwasher. Charlie regularly opened the machine to find artificial flowers, lace doilies, place mats, and even candles set in among the plates and glasses.

  Not only was Esther putting things into the dishwasher and refusing to discuss George Snyder, but she wouldn’t let Charlie even broach the subject of her artery condition. Everything he did annoyed her, it seemed, from his TV game shows to his muttering to his efforts at bead sorting. The more Charlie thought about these things while lying in bed watching the sunlight creep across the wall, the more he wanted out of the house for the day.

  So he had eaten a hasty breakfast, left Esther a note, and driven his golf cart over to the Hanes work site. He arrived early enough to greet Brad and discuss the construction problems they’d been working on. Both were concerned that the seam where the old roof joined the addition might leak.

  Ashley left the house a couple of hours after Brad had driven off to his job. She was on her way to make beads at the Hansens’ house. In all, it had been an uneventful morning—Charlie stapling insulation to the studs and visiting with the occasional passerby until he decided it was time for lunch.

  For once, Charlie had been able to concentrate on the job rather than on his wife, and that gave his nerves a chance to begin untangling. But at the sight of Cody coming along, he felt himself tighten up again. Cody had a way of being warm, kind, and helpful while at the same time driving Charlie a little wacky with his talkativeness and oddities. But Charlie had answered Cody’s cheerful wave and greeting with one of his own.

  “It’s high time for window washing, Patsy told me,” Cody was
saying now, as he paused beside the golf cart. “And I’m the man for the job.”

  “I’ll bet you are.”

  “If I had a driving slicer …” Cody paused. “I mean, a driver’s license, then I wouldn’t have to walk everywhere. But I don’t have one, and also I don’t have a car. Sometimes Jennifer drives me to Tranquility when she’s on the way to her missionary classes at Hidden Tribes near Camdenton. But not today. She’s packing her suitcase because she’s going on a trip to help build a church in Mexico. She’ll be gone for two weeks. That’s seventeen or maybe twenty days. It’s a long time.”

  “It’s shorter than you think. Only fourteen days,” Charlie said. “I hadn’t heard about the mission trip. I guess you’ll miss her.”

  “My spirits are as flat as a turtle that got run over on the highway, and that’s a very good metaphor for how I feel about saying good-bye to Jennifer.”

  “It’s difficult to see someone leave, but she’ll be back.” Charlie glanced down at the empty section of cushion beside him. “How about if I give you a ride to Tranquility, Cody? I was thinking of buying one of Bitty’s wraps for lunch today. I can drop you off right at the door to Just As I Am.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Moore,” Cody said, climbing into the cart and seating himself.

  Charlie stepped on the gas pedal and guided the vehicle along the roadway toward the entrance to the Deepwater Cove neighborhood. He knew Esther would be all right if he didn’t show up at the house for lunch, but he considered phoning her just to check in. On the other hand, both of them needed a break from each other, and he might as well leave her in peace.