Prescriptions and Promises

by Jessica Matthews

  He rose. ‘Why don’t you lock up and go home? Carrie’s probably wondering where you are. I’ll swing by after I pick up a pizza and the ice cream.’

  ‘I thought you were busy this evening.’

  ‘Only until eight,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing that can’t be changed. The guys can get along without me.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Carrie and I can occupy ourselves for the next few hours.’

  He cupped her face in his hands. ‘I’d rather eat pizza with you than play basketball with a bunch of over-the-hill men.’

  ‘Are you saying that you’re over the hill?’

  Noah grinned. ‘I’m still in the prime of my youth.’ He pressed his lips against hers in a brief but spark-filled kiss.

  Prime condition was an apt description. Her toes curled in her sandals as he tasted her mouth with the ardor of a man savoring a delicacy. She dreamily wondered how many times she could manage to travel from Grand Junction to Springwater during the next school year.

  Jenny would simply pin her hopes on the adage, ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’

  ‘I’ll be at your house in about forty-five minutes,’ he said, pulling away. ‘After we eat we’ll put our heads together and figure out the reason for Herb’s vendetta.’

  If he could focus on the situation at hand, so could she. Before she could explain Herb’s motives, as she knew them, Noah had left. She quickly straightened the merchandise she’d knocked over, locked away the petty cash and bolted the doors.

  Shortly after Jenny came home to a sunburnt but bored Carrie, Noah arrived with a large half pepperoni, half hamburger pizza, a carton of vanilla ice cream, and a two-liter bottle of root beer. He’d also exchanged his heather-green twill trousers and matching polo shirt for a pair of gray athletic shorts and plain T-shirt.

  ‘When are we going to set up for the sidewalk sale? It’s tomorrow, you know,’ Carrie said as they sat down at the kitchen table.

  Jenny slid a slice of pizza onto a plate. ‘I brought the boxes out of the basement and stacked them by the front door. In the morning, we’ll carry out our tables and you can arrange everything just the way you want it.’

  For the rest of their meal they discussed the best sales strategies, and Carrie talked of all the things she would buy with the money she earned.

  Jenny hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed.

  After they’d cleared away their dirty dishes the phone rang as if on cue. Suspecting that Susan was making her weekly phone call, Jenny sent Carrie to the extension in her uncle’s den. Ten minutes later, Carrie returned.

  ‘Mom wants to talk to you,’ she said.

  Jenny picked up the wall-phone’s receiver. ‘Are you tired of roughing it yet?’

  Susan moaned. ‘You can’t imagine how tired I am. But good news. I should wrap things up in a week. I’ll drive out for Carrie on the Saturday after the holiday.’

  ‘So soon?’

  ‘Yeah. I guess you could say that Mother Nature’s been co-operative. We stayed on schedule.’

  ‘I’m glad for your sake, but I’ll miss your daughter. She’s been a great help. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ll even miss Bugs.’

  ‘Yeah, the furball does grow on you,’ Susan admitted before her tone became teasing. ‘I hear you’re entertaining company. Handsome company. Maybe I should pick Carrie up earlier. I’d hate for her to put a damper on your love life.’

  Jenny’s skin heated at the sly note in her friend’s voice. If Susan only knew how one-sided the romance actually was.

  Aware of Noah sitting nearby, she turned her back and chose her words carefully. ‘She isn’t. Besides, I need her.’

  ‘Ah,’ Susan said, knowingly. ‘You need a buffer.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Her answer was telling in itself. In her thirty-two years, she hadn’t met anyone before who had challenged her restraint like Noah did. With his kisses packing so much punch, Carrie’s presence had kept her from throwing her morals out the window.

  Then again, Noah had never asked her to discard her principles. Either he’d opted against pursuing that avenue or he was simply biding his time.

  Hoping for the latter, a shiver coursed down her spine.

  ‘Something tells me there’s more to it than that, but I’ll leave it alone for now,’ Susan said. ‘When I get there, though, I want details. Every last one.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Noah smiled at her as she sat down again. ‘Everything all right?’

  She nodded. ‘Susan’s coming for Carrie next Saturday. This weekend will be our last one together. I’ll have to plan something special.’

  ‘A carnival’s coming to town. Maybe she’d like to go.’

  Jenny beamed at him. ‘Perfect. She loves those.’

  With that decided and Carrie ensconced in the living room, watching an old Lucille Ball episode, Jenny watched Noah adjust his glasses. The motion seemed a signal to open the subject she’d been dreading.

  ‘The best defense is a good offense,’ he began.

  Inwardly she groaned. ‘I’ll warn you right away. I have a mental block where football is concerned.’

  He grinned. ‘It’s OK. I’m trying to make a point. We can spend our time trying to defend you, or we can take the offensive.’

  ‘You mean, dig up some dirt on Herb and spread it around.’

  ‘Not exactly. If we can figure out Herb’s motives, we can turn the information to our advantage.’

  ‘I know his motive. He’s angry because Earl didn’t leave the pharmacy to him.’

  ‘Should he have? I mean, was Herb a long-time employee?’

  Jenny thought a moment. ‘He came three years ago. Four at the most.’

  ‘Could there have been a verbal contract between him and your uncle?’

  ‘It’s possible, but I doubt it. Herb would have said something right away and he didn’t.’

  ‘Good point.’

  ‘My uncle was very protective of his livelihood,’ Jenny explained. ‘He could have taken a partner at different times, but he always refused.’ She paused. ‘You two were good friends—did he ever mention anything to you about changing his will?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not even a hint.’

  Carrie’s giggle drifted in from the other room. Jenny chuckled at her enthusiasm.

  ‘She’s enjoying herself,’ he said.

  ‘Oh my, yes. She loves I Love Lucy reruns.’

  Noah slid his fingers underneath his glasses and rubbed his eyes. ‘Why do I feel like we’re missing something?’

  ‘I don’t know what it would be. He probably thinks that if he can’t own the store, neither should I.’

  ‘Did he plan a buy-out? Either from Earl when he retired, or from you?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But, again, he never mentioned it. In fact, he didn’t even make me an offer. Believe me, I would have considered one.’

  He seemed incredulous. ‘Were you that anxious to dump the store on someone else?’

  ‘Yes, but not for the reasons you suspect. After dealing with my aunt for a month, I wanted to sever all ties between us. She was just as eager to see the money from the sale and her attitude was the sooner, the better.’

  ‘So she sold her half to you.’

  ‘Between my savings and a hefty loan, I managed to scrape up the funds. Tom Rigby pulled quite a few strings for the bank officials to grant my application.’

  Once again he fell silent, as if mulling over possibilities. ‘Herb resigned, right?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Since then, did he ever indicate that he regretted his action? Maybe he wanted to come back.’

  ‘Then he had a funny way of showing it,’ she said, dismissing the theory outright. ‘When he came into the store the other day, he seemed surprised at all the changes. I’m sure he thought I couldn’t manage without him and was shocked to see how well I had.’

  Noah leaned closer, his gaze intent. ‘What did he say to you?�
��

  She hesitated, trying to remember. ‘He asked about a box of personal income-tax papers that he’d stored in the basement.’ Anticipating Noah’s next question, she added, ‘He went downstairs to get them, but returned empty-handed. I told him that I’d keep my eyes open and let him know when I found his files.’

  ‘Was he satisfied with your answer?’

  ‘I thought so. He offered to help me look through the boxes whenever we decided to clean out the basement, but I didn’t commit myself one way or another. At the time, it seemed a nice gesture on his part.’

  ‘So why would he switch from being kind and courteous to spreading malicious rumors?’

  ‘What can I say?’ She shrugged. ‘He has a screw loose.’

  Carrie walked into the room. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘He has a screw loose?’ Jenny asked. Carrie nodded and Jenny clarified, ‘It means he has a mental problem.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you were talking about real screws in people. One of my friends’ moms had screws put in her ankle.’

  ‘Doctors sometimes use them to hold people’s bones together while they heal,’ Jenny said. ‘My comment was a figure of speech.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Noah’s eyes took on a thoughtful gleam. ‘Maybe…’

  Jenny jumped to her feet, guessing what had torn Carrie away from her program. Besides, their discussion should wait until they had one fewer member in the audience. ‘We’ve hashed this over long enough. How about a root beer float?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say it was time,’ Carrie said happily.

  Jenny ruffled her hair. ‘Want to help?’

  Carrie nodded, then faced Noah. ‘Do you wanna help, too?’

  He rose. ‘Sure, sprout. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘You can get the glasses from the china cupboard in the dining room,’ Jenny directed. ‘They’re on the top shelf. Carrie will show you.’

  Carrie and Noah disappeared into the other room while Jenny dug her ice-cream scoop out of the silverware drawer and pulled the carton out of the freezer.

  ‘We found ’em,’ Carrie declared as she led the way into the kitchen, carrying one of the three tall, crystal parfait glasses. ‘They’re kind of dusty, though.’

  Jenny squirted dish soap into the sink and turned on the tap. ‘That’s easily fixed,’ she said. ‘The teatowel is hanging on the oven handle.’

  ‘Hinting for me to dry?’ Noah asked.

  Jenny looked at Carrie. ‘He’s such a smart man, isn’t he?’

  Carrie giggled.

  As soon as the glasses were clean, Jenny scooped ice cream while Noah poured the soda until the foam rose high above the rim. ‘And now for the crowning touch,’ Jenny said, opening the refrigerator to retrieve a small jar. ‘Maraschino cherries.’

  ‘Can we eat outside?’ Carrie asked. ‘Bugs would like the company.’

  ‘As long as you don’t drop your glass on the concrete,’ Jenny cautioned.

  ‘Is it ’cause these are ’loons?’ Carrie asked, studying her drink.

  Puzzled, Jenny glanced at Noah. ‘Loons?’

  His eyes took on a teasing glint. ‘Yeah, Jenny. You know about loons, more commonly known as heirloons.’ He winked.

  ‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Carrie said. ‘So where’s the bird?’

  Jenny laughed. ‘The word is heirloom,’ she said, emphasizing the ‘m’ sound. ‘They’re personal family possessions that get saved and passed on to descendants. These particular glasses belonged to my grandparents.’

  Carrie listened wide-eyed as she slurped the foam off the top. ‘I guess they’re yours now.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Jenny said slowly, realizing the frightening responsibility she’d inherited.

  But later, as they sat outside on the porch steps in what seemed like domestic bliss, Jenny wondered about the next generation of Ruscoes, and if there would even be another generation.

  Why couldn’t Noah be someone who trusted in forever-after promises?

  The next day—Thursday—keeping his promise to Carrie, Noah arrived bright and early to carry the tables and boxes of saleable junk outside for the annual sidewalk sale. Carrie insisted on organizing everything herself so, after casting a benevolent smile upon her, he left.

  Throughout the morning Carrie conducted a booming business while Jenny struggled to occupy her time. She filled the hours with odd jobs and busy-work, carefully watching Carrie wheel and deal with prospective buyers for her merchandise.

  Although the people who stopped to purchase the odd assortment of gifts, games and other sundry items were friendly, Jenny sensed a wariness in their attitudes.

  Don’t be paranoid, she told herself, forcing herself to act as if she hadn’t noticed the change. As for her own lack of customers, she blamed her decreased sales volume on the sidewalk sale. Shoppers were nosing out bargains, not necessities like aspirin and corn-removers.

  After lunch, Carrie started her ‘two-fer’ special, which meant customers could purchase two items for the price of one. Children popped out of the woodwork to buy the knick-knacks, intent on purchasing the best for themselves.

  ‘I hope you consider a career in sales,’ Jenny said at the end of the day. She’d been pleasantly surprised to see how well Carrie had done, both in terms of money earned and merchandise sold. Even board games with missing pieces had been purchased after she’d parceled them into packages of replacement parts.

  ‘You’ve got to convince people you have something they want,’ Carrie said importantly. ‘The rest is easy.’

  How sad to be taught marketing concepts by a child.

  ‘Miranda’s lemonade stand did real well, too,’ Carrie commented. ‘Can I set one up next week?’

  ‘Don’t expect to earn as much as she did,’ Jenny cautioned. ‘You won’t have the crowds we saw today.’

  Carrie pursed her lips together in thought. ‘That’s OK. I’ll think of something to draw people to my stand.’

  Jenny smiled, wondering what Susan would say when she heard about her daughter’s exploits. ‘All right.’

  Carrie’s smile grew wide and she hurried to the phone to share her good news with Miranda.

  Friday morning brought in two customers. A teenager who played tennis purchased an elbow wrap and Rodney Meder bought a box of insulin syringes.

  The afternoon dragged by, and as Jenny locked the doors for the night, she excused the day’s decreased sales on people not being in a buying mood.

  Her theory sounded lame even to her own ears.

  That evening, Noah obviously saw through her fake cheerful front. ‘Not a good day?’ he commiserated.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I usually hear the rumors flying around town, but no one has said anything to me.’

  ‘Do you expect them to?’ she asked. ‘Everyone’s aware of how much time you’re spending with me. They’re probably afraid to broach the subject.’

  ‘I’m sure everyone has already dismissed the gossip.’

  ‘Could be,’ she said noncommittally, unable to ignore her lack of customers but not wanting to dwell on the situation. Her applicants would arrive on Tuesday, after the July Fourth holiday, and then she’d implement her own plan to salvage the Ruscoe business’s reputation.

  ‘What are you doing this weekend?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m sifting through Earl’s things in the house.’

  He frowned. ‘I’m booked for an overnight fishing trip—the guys planned this months ago—but I can cancel.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Carrie and I will manage on our own.’

  He studied her for a long moment. ‘Are you sure?’

  She smiled. ‘Of course. How hard is it to pack things in boxes and give them away?’ Actually, the task wouldn’t be easy. These were Earl’s possessions, the items he had used or saved for posterity. Things like an old pocket watch, photographs of long-dead ancestors, and a quilt her grandmother had made. They deserved her time and reverence as she decided their fate. />
  ‘You can join us, though, when we go to the carnival on Sunday evening.’

  ‘Great. I’ll be here.’

  Although Jenny and Carrie spent the weekend inspecting the nooks and crannies of the house, Jenny realized how time dragged without Noah. Even the box of old papers and ledgers she’d removed from the pie safe didn’t capture or hold her interest.

  Get used to it, she scolded herself as she shoved the box back in the closet where she’d originally placed it. He won’t be in Grand Junction.

  As the hours drew closer to their date for the carnival, her spirits rose. Although she normally avoided the stomach-dropping, head-twirling rides, she actually enjoyed them with Noah at her side. The teddy bears he won at the ring toss—one for her and one for Carrie—touched her. The stuffed animal with its lopsided smile earned the status of a prized possession.

  Picnics and fireworks filled Monday. Each event, each moment spent with Noah, entered a special place in her memory, to be removed at some later date and savored once again.

  All too soon the realities of life intruded. Tuesday morning brought an increase to her business traffic, but not to its previous levels. By lunchtime she’d sold a few items of little consequence and decided that Carrie had proved herself capable of handling the cash register while she conducted her interviews.

  After Jenny had dutifully admired Carrie’s sign for her lemonade stand and tasted the tart drink she had prepared, the first job applicant arrived.

  John Bellamy was a quiet man in his early fifties, had never married, and liked the idea of having a nearby lake in order to pursue his boating and fishing interests. Although he was personable and willing to follow Jenny’s direction, he seemed more focused on his hobbies than on providing ideas to attract new clientele.

  Zoe Doran was a vibrant redhead in her mid-twenties, who professed to love challenges and was excited over continuing the plans Jenny had outlined. She even made a few suggestions that Jenny thought had merit.

  Her enthusiasm reflected the very traits Jenny wanted in the future manager of Ruscoe Pharmacy. Although Ms Doran seemed somewhat vague about her reasons for relocating to Springwater and, in fact, seemed almost desperate for the job, Jenny didn’t press for answers. Zoe went on to promise a minimum one-year commitment, which reassured Jenny. Zoe wouldn’t be here today and gone tomorrow.