Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Alice grimaced. “Sounds like the clinic where Aurora’s doctor has his office.”

  “Doctor,” Aurora said. She dragged the cat toy from Van Winkle’s nose to his tail. He didn’t move. Roxie reached out and tickled his back foot. No response. She hoped the cat wasn’t dead and nobody had noticed.

  Roxie closed the catalogue and said, “Let’s go at it from another direction. What would you put in the room?”

  Roxie started to say she had no idea, but images started popping into her head. “There’s a children’s book called The Journey. You know it?”

  “A picture book? Sure. A little girl in a red boat, then there’s the forest with lanterns and a castle.” Alice looked under the desk. “I thought I had a copy right here. It’s one of Aurora’s favorites.”

  “A library in Ohio decided to model their whole children’s section after the book. Not just the picture but the furniture, the reading spaces, everything. It’s like walking into the book. You are the little girl in the boat, on a journey through the forest and flying to the castle.”

  “Castle,” Aurora said. She was batting Van Winkle on the head with the toy now.

  Alice’s eyes widened. “So, the room could actually be a book?”

  “I think ‘Goodnight Moon’ was made into a room you could walk through.”

  “Aurora has hundreds of picture books at home. We could do anything.”

  “Maybe not Harold and the Purple Crayon.” Roxie couldn’t help laughing at the idea of a toddler’s area that was all white except for a fat purple line of paint. “Unless you made it all washable and the kids could color it themselves.”

  “Color,” Aurora said.

  Alice sat back, eyes on the ceiling. “A coloring book room. Everything in black and white. The chairs and walls and table would be covered in intricate medallions and designs. Markers would be washable.” She sat up straight. “And why just for kids?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It could be for everyone.” Alice searched around on her desk for a moment. Roxie thought she saw Van Winkle shift to the side then realized he was sliding around with the papers. “Coloring books for adults are really popular right now. Studies show they’re as relaxing as meditation.”

  Roxie couldn’t imagine coloring for fun. It sounded like busy work and she had enough work. “A whole room of this might be too much.”

  “It’s a pretty big room, almost two hundred square feet. We’ll segment it into two areas. The walls, chairs, shelves, and the floor will be a coloring book. The mini play bakery, play grocery store, and comfy chairs in the other side can be whatever color Aurora chooses. ”

  An older woman approached the desk, adjusting her scarf and smiling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I couldn’t help but hear your idea about the coloring room. I think it’s fantastic. I love coloring. I’ve always wanted to color on the walls but didn’t want to get in trouble.”

  “A coloring room?” A man with a bushy beard leaned out from the science fiction section. “So, everything would be a―”

  “A big piece of art.” The woman nodded. “I drove here from LaFayette for the Steel Magnolias weekend but I’d have driven that far just to play in a room like that.”

  “Me, too. I want my room like that now.” A teenage girl joined then. “It would be so much fun.”

  Alice beamed. “That’s it. I’m going to contact a designer this afternoon. You’re a genius, Roxie.”

  Roxie tried to look enthusiastic until the patrons were done chattering about the coloring room and had all wandered away. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t know. Maybe you should get a second opinion. Bix should be in soon, right?”

  “Bix,” Aurora said and tossed the cat toy on the ground, finally decided that Van Winkle was never going to wake up.

  “He’s out fishing with Andy, Mark and Paul. We’re all watching the play tonight. You should come, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  “Oh, no, I can’t butt in.” She bent her head over the article, pretending to read the rest of the page. She tried not to react to the idea of sitting next to Andy for a few hours.

  Alice didn’t say anything for a while. Aurora had pulled out some sheets of wrapped paper and was carefully placing her board books in the middle of them, then trying to fold the paper up like Alice did for purchases.

  “Paul told me something interesting,” she said.

  “Oh?” Roxie thought of the conversation she’d overheard at the bakery. Somehow, Mark had gotten the impression she and Andy were dating. Paul knew the truth but rumors spread, especially between friends and spouses.

  “He said Andy was talking to one of Sunshine Bakery’s employees and it changed his whole perspective on Natchitoches.”

  “Huh.” She bent back over the paper. “Probably Raylene.”

  Alice’s voice was carefully innocent. “Maybe. He doesn’t know who it was because they were in the cupcake suit.”

  The woman with the scarf approached the desk, holding two small leather bound books. Roxie waited until Alice had rung up the purchase, wrapped the books and sent the woman off with a cheery wave. Roxie’s stomach knotted, thinking of what to say next. Alice knew that the only people who ever had to go out in the stinky suit were Ricky and Roxie.

  “And you said?” Roxie asked.

  “I said whomever it was must be really special to help him work out his problems without even speaking.”

  Roxie looked up at her. She felt like a kid who’d been caught lying, which she had, in a way. “You probably think I’m a horrible person.”

  Grabbing her hands, Alice said, “Why would I ever think that? Because you didn’t tell Andy that he’d talked to you when you were in the cupcake suit?”

  “I didn’t mean to lie to him.” And it all came tumbling out. That first, horrible day when he brought her iced tea. When he’d mentioned the cupcake and she just didn’t want to change the way Andy saw her as a person. How every time they met, she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find a way. How he’d tried to talk to the cupcake and she’d waddled down the block as fast as her chubby legs could carry her.

  “I ended up flat on my back, skinned knees, blubbering away in that stupid suit.” Even now, tears started to leak out of her eyes.

  “Bless your heart, sweetie,” Alice said, sympathy in every syllable.

  “I’m not crying because I feel bad for myself.” Roxie swiped a tissue from the desk and wiped her eyes. “I’m just so mad that I created this whole thing by― by trying to be better than I am.”

  There it was. The truth of it. Her whole life she’d tried to be something other than she was. She’d dieted, copied styles, moved far away, did her best to lose her accent, denied her childhood… But in the end she was still Roxie.

  “I knew he’d never be interested in me, the real me, so I hid who I was. And now it’s way too late to explain,” Roxie said.

  Aurora was staring at her from where she sat on the floor. “Owie? Owie, Roxie? Bandaid, Roxie! Bandaid!”

  She laughed but it came out sort of soggy and sad. “I’m okay, Aurora. I’m fine.”

  Alice scooped Aurora up and gave her a hug. “Just girl talk, baby. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Bandaid,” Aurora said and leaned forward to pat Roxie’s cheek.

  Roxie sniffled into her tissue, avoiding the eyes of the customers. She didn’t want girl talk to be tears. She wanted girl talk to be powerful and uplifting and positive. But then, she supposed, a person had to start with the truth and not be living a big cupcake-shaped lie.

  ***

  Andy stared into the bottom of his empty water glass. The little kitchen was the coziest place in the apartment and he still felt out of sorts. The sound of a cheering crowd echoed from the living room. Mark was watching Free Willy, narrating the scenes to himself. Andy knew he was moping. He should really get up and so something productive, like a quick run through the new top-secret game ScreenStop would
be releasing next year, but the lethargy he felt made getting out of the chair seem like far too much trouble.

  If anyone happened to see Andy at that moment, he’d say he was just thinking, but the reality was he’d been slumped at the kitchen table for fifteen minutes, and mentally in the dumps for the last twenty-four hours. Seeing Roxie in the bakery yesterday had been all kinds of wonderful, until it became all kinds of whoops. He couldn’t blame Mark. The guy just said what was on his mind.

  A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He considered not answering, but the knock came again so he trudged from the kitchen to the living room.

  Alice stood there, Aurora in her arms. The baby was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that said, ‘Four Legs Good, Two Legs Better’ in red letters.

  “Animal Farm is a brilliant political manifesto against Communism, but I don’t quite believe my goddaughter has read it yet,” he said.

  “Andy,” Aurora squealed and waved her hands. He reached out and took her from Alice.

  “Charlie insists on balancing out her literary T-shirt collection. We’ve been over this. So far, nobody has complained except you. If you’re unhappy, you should start designing a few of your own,” Alice said.

  “I’ll put that on my to-do list,” Andy said, moving out of the doorway. “And come on in.”

  “No, we can’t. Paul’s waiting downstairs. He says y’all have to come down for a little bit. Even if you don’t stay to watch the play, just come downstairs with us and walk around.”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like my kind of thing.”

  Aurora made a grab for Andy’s hair. He caught her chubby fist and pretended to gobble it up. “No grabbing,” Andy said.

  “No grabbing,” she repeated, giggling.

  Alice put a hand to her mouth. “Her first sentence,” she whispered. “Did you hear it?”

  “Hasn’t she been talking all this time? I hear her say lots of words.”

  “But not two together. That’s a sentence. Paul’s going to be so mad he missed it. He’s just downstairs.” Alice’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s growing up. It’s just so exciting.”

  Andy wondered if all parents cared as much about little milestones, or if it was just the good ones. If he ever got the chance… Andy shook away the thought. He’d been brooding all afternoon. It was time to jump off the pity train.

  “I’m sorry. Hormones.” She wiped her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Anyway, the play’s good, I promise. You know I don’t watch movies very often and I can tell you that Steel Magnolias isn’t some big-screen heating pad for the masses. It has a plot.”

  Andy knew Alice was like Paul, all about the story. If she said it was good, it was probably great. “Okay, we’ll come on down. I think Free Willy is almost free. Mark is always up for a walk around the neighborhood, but I’d better bring him back after a few minutes so he can go to bed. He’s an early riser and likes his sleep.”

  “Is he adjusting? He seems pretty happy.”

  “I think more people know his name than mine, and I’ve been here six months. He’s a little bored, even. He’s been asking to find a little part time job and learn the bus schedule. I really think it might work.” He was proud of his brother. It hadn’t been completely smooth sailing but Mark had tried to be accommodating to the new surroundings and it had paid off big time. Mark was more comfortable every day and Andy had allowed himself to think of the months and years to come with optimism. Andy never wanted to go back to eight hour days making deals and meeting with clients, but he definitely was ready to get back into some projects. He’d taken the vacation, not knowing if he would end up moving back to New York City, or even resigning from ScreenStop.

  “I’m so glad,” Alice said. “I’ve been praying that this would be the right move for both of you.” She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “I know it’s a big responsibility and it might seem like you have to give up all your other plans, but I hope having Mark closer will help you see that you can have your own life, too. And I’m not talking about working more.”

  Andy focused on Aurora’s little face for a moment. He knew Paul wouldn’t have shared the genetic test results, even with his wife, without Andy’s permission. Alice wasn’t talking about meetings or fishing. She was talking about Roxie. “News travels fast in Natchitoches. But I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “Yeah, Mark pretty much announced it to the whole bakery. But I don’t think kissing can be really misunderstood unless someone was unwilling.”

  Andy didn’t know how to answer. Roxie had been more than willing. There was no question she had been just as happy to be kissing him, as he had been to be kissing her… at least until he’d realized what a jerk he was being.

  “Listen,” Alice reached out and touched his arm. “Whatever it is, just―”

  “Go with my heart?” Andy couldn’t help the bitter tone in his voice. It was such pat advice.

  Alice started to laugh. “Before we met, before Paul came into my world, I was a little― how can I describe it? Unromantic doesn’t quite cover it. I had a boyfriend but I couldn’t stand him. I think I chose him on purpose. I knew there wasn’t really any future for us. All my boyfriends were short term and I think I liked it that way. I was perfectly happy by myself and I let everyone know they could be perfectly happy while they were single, too.”

  “I always thought you were the romantic type.” Andy thought back to when they first met. All he’d known was a woman who quoted poetry as randomly as Paul did, who would have fought the whole world to protect her store and her people.

  “No, sir. Not at all. In fact, I probably prevented so many relationships that I noticeably affected the town’s population growth.”

  Andy snorted and Aurora put her hand on his face. “Funny,” she said.

  “Yeah, your mama’s funny.” He sighed. “Anyway, things are more complicated than they seem. I can’t just go with the flow, embrace the future, or seize the day.” The last phrase made his chest ache. He wished he could. He wanted to believe there was a plan for him that didn’t include a lot of suffering and self-denial.

  “I’m just saying you should be open. Don’t decide all by yourself. Pray for direction.”

  “Direction,” he repeated.

  “Di’ection,” Aurora said.

  Andy couldn’t help grinning at her. “You’re going to be a talker like your papa.”

  “Papa,” she said and looked around.

  Alice held out her arms. “We’ve got to get back downstairs. We’ll be checking out the booths and sampling the food before the play, knowing my husband.” She took Aurora back and smiled. “Life doesn’t always go the way we think it will, and that’s not a bad thing.”

  Andy shut the door behind them and took a moment to think before asking Mark if he wanted to go out. Pray for direction. Alice’s faith always seemed to come so effortlessly. He was more pragmatic. God wasn’t a fairy godmother who handed out wishes. You did what you had to do, and hoped for the best. But then he remembered the moment of grace he’d had just a few weeks ago. Direction did come. Not like a neon sign or a flare, but a nudge. And very rarely, a gut-sure certainty.

  This is what it meant when your mind was at war with your heart. He couldn’t justify starting a relationship with Roxie, even if she wasn’t leaving soon. But every instinct in him said that Roxie was the kind of woman that arrived once in a life time, and that this moment might never come again.

  All right. He would stop holding on so hard to his idea of the future and ask for direction. Andy looked in the living room where Mark was seated on the couch eating Pringles. Andy had a lot of power, more than he’d realized, but he wasn’t the author of the story. He couldn’t make anything turn out the way he wanted. He could only use what he’d been given, hoping he was going in the right direction. Drawing in a breath, he allowed himself to consider, for the first time, that Roxie Hardy was any part of that plan.

  Chap
ter Fourteen

  “The past beats inside me like a second heart.”

  ― John Banville, The Sea

  The grassy riverbank was even more crowded than it had been for the crawfish festival. The stage was set up a few hundred feet away and the rows of chairs reached all the way to the sidewalk. There wasn’t a live band or a dance floor, but a music system played country tunes for the crowd and a few people danced at the edges of the group. Roxie inhaled. The cold medicine she’d taken helped her to almost smell the fried food.

  Her original plans for the evening involved reading something light and drowning her sorrows in hot tea. Her knees were sore and scabbed, her back still twinged when she moved suddenly, her head was aching dully, but she was here because Alice had convinced her otherwise.

  She glanced around, glad that Mamere had gone home to rest. Her aunt decided to stay with Mamere this weekend, probably organizing the refrigerator or something else that would drive them both crazy. Roxie had offered to drive over and pick them up, but Mamere said she’d seen the movie too many times and didn’t like the sad parts. Roxie understood. She wasn’t looking forward to those scenes, either. Her emotions felt raw and tender after the past week.

  “Roxie,” someone called and she turned to see Mark walking toward her, his blue backpack on one shoulder. He was waving with both hands and Roxie couldn’t help but wave back the same way. Andy was right behind, looking as if he’d tried to keep Mark from calling out to her. Roxie flashed back to the bakery conversation and had to laugh. Poor Andy probably thought she was going to introduce herself around the entire city as his girlfriend.

  “Hey, Mark. Do you like the music?”

  “Oh, yeah. Did you bring cookies?”